Friday, April 6, 2012

A Darius Lemon -- So She Did

Character: Darius

Fandom: The Hunger Games

OC: Wren Elphinstone, Age 19, makes peacekeeper uniforms

Inspiration: Fitting Darius for a uniform :3

It had been a calm day, until Wren had realized that she had work to do.  It would have stayed calm throughout her work, as well, except that the man she was working with just wouldn't keep quiet.

It was a pretty normal procedure, actually.  She had worked with Darius before and knew how much he loathed these fittings.  If it was his decision, he'd just have one uniform to wear throughout his entire service and be done with it.

But his incessant whining wasn't the only thing that made Wren on edge.  She had always been plaintively aware of her feelings for Darius and it was unsurprising to her that being so close to him was making her shaky and nervous.

Their relationship hadn't stopped at friendship, either.  It was so obvious that there was something there between them, like some invisible wall -- or lack thereof -- which creased and trembled with every glance.  She was attracted to him, and the way his flaming red hair fanned out over his forehead, and the merry twinkle of his eyes, and the way he made her feel like she was the only woman on the planet.  He had to be attracted to her, otherwise he wouldn't be purposefully dragging out their session together.  …Right?

"Stop moving so much," she told him quietly, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.  She wasn't angry at him at all, but every moment spent touching him was sweet agony. 

He frowned, but she was aware that he didn't actually look angry either.  There was a spark of mischief dwelling in those eyes that made her strangely excited.

She took his shoulder-to-shoulder measurement and jotted it down on a pad of paper beside her.  When she came back up, she tried to ignore the intense look in his eyes.

Control, she told herself.  Keep your control.  Just because he's standing in front of you without a shirt doesn't mean you get to stare at him.

She took his arm measurements, and then his waist.  The minutes slipped by like water, and soon she had slid back into her work mode.  He was stiller now.

The control she had built up, however, disappeared when she realized she had to take his leg measurements.  She knelt, body fluid but shaky, and peeked up at him.  He was staring down at her, eyes filled with an emotion she recognized.  It wasn't the first time he looked at her like this, but she was only beginning to understand the meaning behind it…

She touched his thigh, trying to ignore the overwhelming fact that what made him a man was just before her.  Her other hand slid the measuring tape down his leg, past his knee, and stopped at his ankle.  She was thankful he was wearing his pants for this one, because the strange aching in her body would probably be far worse had he been showing more skin.

She was rather reluctant to draw her hands back, but she couldn't hesitate any longer.  She slid the number of his last measurement onto the paper and then looked toward the white peacekeeper cloth that lay bundled up on another table.

She slowly stood up, eyes locked to the fabric, and was about to go get it when her name was suddenly calling her back.  It was the emotion in Darius' voice that stopped her, and the exhilarating way it contorted her name that made her turn to him.  When she looked into his eyes, Wren saw him giving her that look again.

It suddenly shocked her at her closeness to him.  Their bodies were less than a foot apart.  Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't look away.  But she didn't need to, because then he was leaning in, slow as though trying not to scare her off, and his lips were edging onto hers.

It was their first kiss together, but it felt like their last.  She gasped as though a shock had drawn through her body and moved closer to him.  Her shyness was thrown to the wind as she tore her arms around his neck.  She wanted this so badly -- had wanted this for months on end -- and would be damned if she was too nervous to seize it now that it had fallen into her lap.

His lips grew more demanding as the seconds slipped by, but it wasn't a bad thing.  He caught her wrists and drew them to his chest.  Her fingers scrabbled uselessly against his skin and her head tilted back in wonderment.  Was this what it felt like to love someone?  Perhaps, but she was sure the feeling was incomplete. 

"Wren…"  he groaned into her neck, hands sliding down her back and inching over her butt.  She inhaled sharply as he brought their lower bodies closer.  The feel of his hardened manhood rubbing against her had her nerves going haywire.

What did she want?  Did she want to lose her virginity to him?  Would this relationship last long enough for her not to regret doing so?

Her eyes slid open and she stared at him, brooding at the flickering desire in his eyes.  She knew Darius well enough -- enough to know that it was more than physical desire that caught his movements.  And, she thought, she'd probably regret it if she stopped this now; would probably spend many sleepless nights wishing she had continued.

So she did.  Her hand curved up around his neck and locked into his hair.  She pulled him close and pushed her lips onto his once more.  As they lost themselves in the heated way their mouths moved, his hands flourished over her body, lifting her up onto the work table and drawing her legs around him.

The heat of their cores was intensified by this new position, and Wren couldn't help but jerk against him.  He groaned into the kiss and pulled their lower bodies together again, this time not allowing any space to come between them. 

His fingers eventually slid up her body again, up her back before sliding the buttons off.  He was fairly skilled at removing her clothing, it seemed, because soon both her shirt and bra were laying on the workroom floor.

Her cheeks instantly flared red when her bra came off.  This was the first time she was so bare in front of anyone.  But Darius only gave her a reassuring smile before gingerly touching her, cupping her breasts in a way that sent heat flying through her.

His affection did feel good.  His mouth kissed down her collar and around her breast.  As her head tilted back, his tongue raced over one taut nipple and she whimpered. 

Her legs drew him closer, locking tightly around his waist as he worked on her chest.  She wanted him so badly that it was starting to become painful.  The movement of their bodies seemed to draw Darius from his daze and he looked up at her, locking his eyes with hers and exchanging a silent agreement.

His hands moved down her waist.  He gave her breast one last kiss before turning all his attention to her pants.  The button popped easily and she was soon lifting her body up so that he could pull her pants away.  As they fell down her legs, Wren knew that there was absolutely no turning back.

She watched him as he looked at her, admiration swelling in his eyes.  His hands slid over her legs gently, as though touching her for the first time, before he turned his gaze up to her face.  His grasp on her loosened as he brought his hands to his own pants.

And then, when all was said and done and the rest of their clothes had joined the pile, Darius nudged her onto her back and climbed up onto the table after her. 

She swallowed thickly, trying not to clamp her legs shut as he nestled himself between them.  He leaned down to give her a kiss -- one that was filled with reassurance and promise -- and then jerked his manhood against her.

The effect was instantaneous as she let out a shaky breath.  It felt so foreign to feel him so close, but there was a certain fervor of emotion that came from it.  She glanced down and felt a thrill of excitement pump through her at the sight of him rubbing against her.

It was silent when he entered her, but she broke the silence with a pained whimper.  He drove himself completely inside her and then paused, worry playing itself over his features.  It felt like someone had broke her insides in half; the pain was so real that Wren felt tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

Darius shakily brushed them away, trying to catch her eye.  He pressed fluttering kiss over her cheek and tried to be a still as possible.  Her hands rushed over him, drawing up his back and tousling his hair as she writhed.  Long, lingering minutes had slid by before the sharp pain had faded into a dull ache.  And then, she whispered his name, and Darius knew that he could move.

So he did.  And the pain suddenly flew away and was replaced with a growing pleasure that had Wren gasping.  Her arms fell away from him and he brought his head down to kiss her fully on the mouth.  As his hips jerked into her, she felt that invisible wall crumble and disappear.  There was nothing, now, that kept them apart.

"D-Darius-!" she moaned, arching her back and pressing her breasts against him.  His hands slid into the small of her back as he clutched at her and his lips caught her nipple again as he sucked.  Her fingers locked into his hair, pulling her closer to her breast.  Her legs, which had been slack before, now were thrown about his waist.

It was insane, the blistering pleasure.  It tore up their bodies and caved into their souls.  Their intimacy was overriding coherent thought and physical satisfaction.  It was a state of being that neither had truly grasped before this moment.

He pressed kisses all over her, up her body and face.  She retaliated as much as she could, but the waves of passion took away most of her movements.  As his mouth pushed itself against hers, he whispered an awe-inspired, "Do you love me?"

It was those words that made her stop.  Everything stopped: the movement of their hips, and passion behind their eyes, and the growing satiation that had begun to tear through them.  Did she love him? 

She wanted him, for sure.  She had longed for him since the moment she saw him.  Every moment spent in his presence was like a gift from the heavens.  But did that mean she loved him?

She looked at him -- truly looked at him -- and saw a man who was just like her: dedicated to a cause, passionate, awkward.  They shared a link that she'd never had with anyone before. 

Her heart seemed to bloom in her chest.  It ached with a feeling that was not pain, but rather happiness.  It was so strong that she could hardly breath.

Her lips moved forward and she caught him in a kiss.  Into it, she breathed a word that made him grin a heart stopping grin.  And then suddenly they were moving again, rushing toward a plane of reality that was rife with love and fulfillment, and they were becoming one as a man and a woman were supposed to, and that word was suddenly becoming a mantra that left her lips again and again and again: 'Yes, yes, yes.'  And she meant it.


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