The Barn

[Light Ice]

Requests. Whispers. Secrets.

In these moments they were all the same. He knew of them. Knew what it meant to have a want inside you that would not, and could not, relent. It was like an itch that would not be scratched. Each effort, each attempt, to turn from it gnawed at you until the end was neigh and the want was born out and satisfied. This was the greater truth of the human experience. Resistance, will, nomatter how great had a limit. The true power of a man was measured beyond his inhibitions.

In his experience the same could be said of women.

Her little plea came up from tip toes and breathlessness and the way his arms had begun to lift and snake up to encompass the trim of her waist. The entirety of his sinuous forearms fell to rounded hips, feminine arches, holding there the promise of the evening and the gorgeous woman who'd shared with him the land and the quiet hopes and passions of his lifestyle.

But he did not just hold her. He pushed her down, helped her to her knees onto the floor at his feet. She, so delicate and soft, curled gracefully in a collection of gentle curves and silken skin. The stroke of his fingers left to brush only through the wavy darkness of her hair, keeping it from her face, touching her chin and cheeks to keep her from looking down to the massive length of him before her. He wanted her eyes. Needed them.

He wanted to look through them into the desires that twisted beyond their surface. There was a truth there that he needed from her. A certainty. Because, like the place he'd come to sleep, there were layers of him that extended beyond what she'd known. Dark places behind trap doors. Indulgences. Violence.

Power.

Before her, swaying heavily, his cock stretched a turgid and smooth length. The dark hair clipper-cut short to the skin, whirls of ebon along the expanse of his navel and the angles of muscle gathered there. From the delicate stretch of her fingers his girth would defy her, unable to be circled entire. The vision of her, their games, provoking him to incredible and unrelenting hardness. Precum, gathered in pearly drops at the crease of his plump, plum-colored crown, dripped down in erotic and filthy dribbles that fell between them to the floor and would cling to her skin. He was flesh-covered steel. Pulsing hotness. Distinct, corded veins twining down from the underside of his shaft to the base of his cock. Smooth, heavy balls beneath, full and potent. A promise. An assurance.

His hand wound in her hair and she'd but seconds before his strength took her. His arm, tightening, goading her forward to force her pouted lips to kiss the cum-covered tip of his massive length. The desire was to feed her each inch. To force, command, demand what he'd wanted from her.

To see her want it as well.

 

[RainingHeat]

A gentle pressure. Insistent. But never brutish, never harsh, as he allowed her, yes, he allowed her, to go to her knees before him. The motion was fluid, the slither of a droplet of moisture down the smooth surface of a leaf, to come to rest upon the ground. For her, the ground was the floor at his feet.

Fingers stroking, weaving thru her long dark mane, as if playing, silken strands winding around rough digits, slipping free as his hand keeps moving. Her eyes, still captured within his, she could not look away. They were haunting, hypnotizing, windows to a man she wanted to know so much better..

She did not need to see the length that was now free before her. She could scent the arousal, that distinctly male scent, clean, musky, and she longed to taste. She thirsted for him. Hungered for him. A desire so deep, it growled and whispered inside her. It had since that first time he spoke to her, asked her if she wanted to ride.

Hands, fingers, tightening, gripping within, tendrils of hair, held within a fist, claiming, for the moment owning. Her own, smaller, delicate, fingers resting to his thighs, on each side of the serpent between. Lips parting, one hand grasping the base, slender fingers unable to encircle, thickness, steel, the smooth head brushing her lips, and she kisses, a gentle, passionate kiss, the smooth skin feeling good, soft, she wanting to taste more, her mouth opening, an invitation of the heat, the soaking wetness within, for him to claim, to feel, wrapped about his girth.

He controlled, the slow dipping of his cock, pulsing, throbbing over her pink lips, inch.... by... inch.... sinking within the satin tight grip of her mouth, lips, so very slowly. A low purring moan escapes past, a gentle vibration, she opening further as he pushes, inch... by... inch... her tongue beneath, a silken surface for his cock to slide along..

And she accepted every inch, devoured every inch, her eyes still within his, the one hand, fingers tight, at the base of him, the other, slipping around behind him, palm resting on his ass cheek, and she is applying her own pressure, forward, wanting more, needing more, she pacing her breathing to be able to take him as deep as he desires to go, as deep as she can take him. Dripping, soaking, wetness, flooding about his member, deeper, inch... by.. inch ... the smooth head finding her throat, muscles tightening for a moment, she tries to pause, another breath needed, but nearly unable to take, yet she does not flinch, only moans around him, in want, in need. She would take him within the deepest of her throat, until she could not anymore. She wanted him that deep, needed him that deep...

 

[DarkWarrioress]

​

She drained her coffee, setting the empty cup in the sink. Her strides took her out of the house and along a faint path. It wasn’t one that was well trodden. In fact, it was seldom used. Her feet took her to the barn. The people hired to look after the animals in his absence had left the barn doors unlocked. Safety first. She knew his living quarters were secured.

Storm nickered as she entered and she felt badly. She hadn’t been here as much as she should have to ride her horse even though he was looked after.

“Hello, boy.”

She stepped up to his stall door where he met her. His soft muzzle pushed against her shoulder, making her laugh. She backed up, stroking between his eyes while her free hand reached into her back pocket and removed a carrot. She grinned.

“Yes, I’m spoiling you. It’ll make me feel better for having neglected you.”

It didn’t take long for the greedy horse’s soft lips to find the end of the carrot she held out and snap off the end. She petted and stroked the horse while he munched away. The carrot didn’t last long.

“I promise to do better. We’ll go for a ride in a day or so.”

She gave Storm a quick hug before she walked off. Toward the stairs. One booted foot rested on the bottom step. Why was she hesitating? He wasn’t home. She needed to clean up or at the least, dust up there. The maids were driving her crazy with their bickering over whose turn it was to come here. God, he spoiled them rotten.

One foot. Then the other. She climbed the stairs. Stopped. Fished out the key from her back pocket. It fit into the lock with ease and she turned it, hearing Agatha inside. His labordoodle. She was a pistol. Bracing herself, she eased into his apartment, going down on her knees even as she hit the floor and found herself bowled over by four legs of closely cropped curls. She went down on her back laughing, fending off Agatha’s enthusiasm.

“Well, hello to you too, Aggie… Okay okay… “

Her hands moved over the dog. Petting. Hugging. There were wet kisses from the joyous furball and laughter from her. She gave the dog a moment more of loves then pushed her off, getting to her feet.

“I’ll tell you what, Agatha. You can come home with me. I’m sure Ice won’t mind. He’ll know where to find you when he gets back. I could use the company, but right now…”

She looked around critically, rerolling her sleeves.

“I need to give this place a good dusting.”

Cait set to with a vengeance. Dusting. Straightening. She drew the line at his bedroom however. Already she felt like she was trespassing on his personal space but his bedroom? No… he was going to have to have the maids see to that room. She washed what little was in the sink. A couple of glasses at best. One had a hint of lipstick. Not surprising. A wry grin crossed her lips as she rinsed and dried them, setting them in cupboard. Her eyes ran critically over the living space. That hadn’t taken long. Agatha had settled down to her usual spot while Cait cleaned. Her head perked up as the red-headed woman moved to the door again.

“Agatha. With me.”

The dog obediently came to her side. She reached down to run her fingers into the dog’s fur for a moment. Then she turned the door knob, opening the door for them to exit. She insured the door was properly locked before Agatha and she headed down the stairs and back to the big house.

​

 

[DarkWarrioress]

His hand in her hair, the force of him throwing her toward the bed, almost made her fall to her knees, so unexpected it had been, but she recovered. Barely. Her hands braced on his bed to keep herself from falling face first onto it.

"You asked for it."

She heard his voice behind her. Heard the door close and the key rasp in the lock. She wet her lips, came down from her toes and turned, slowly, to stare at him, drawing herself up to her full height, such as that was. Her chin went up. Her eyes defied him.

"Have I? What exactly have I asked for, Ice?"

Her green eyes shot fire, defiance. It was etched in every line taut line of her body. She folded her arms over her chest, legs slightly apart and firmly planted on the floor now.

 

[Light Ice]

She was something. But she was still, for it all, small and delicate. A woman. The girlish one. It'd been a game until now. Playful. Too much, though, and she'd found the limits to his restraint. There was nothing to crossing the distance between them. He came on like a rush, aware in this moment of that absolute certainty of what would follow. She, with nails and teeth, was a paltry measure of resistance. The defiance lay within her. Coiled. Steel. But the great secret she'd given. He guarded. His hand found her throat, coiled tight around the soft column. She may slap him. Claw him. It didn't matter. He drew her face to his own. Willing, more than most, for whatever it meant.

The cut of his eyes cold and certain as they found her own.

His fingers cut off her air.

"Ask me again." He said.

The flat rumble of his voice betrayed nothing but the ease of this. His strength. If she thrashed his fingers would cinch down. If she tried to twist away he'd lift her off her pretty little feet. For now, he watched her, waiting. The only way she'd ever understand was if it became her choice to understand. For now, he stood with her there, aware of the bed behind her and its massive posts. Aware of the desk, the small chair. Aware, more than anything, of the gorgeous length of silk between his fingers.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Just out of sight had always been something coiled in him where she was concerned. She knew it. He did too. There had always been something about him that fired her blood. She could be soft for him. She could be a hellcat as well. This moment. Tonight. She was hellcat and defiant.

She saw him move. She braced herself. His hand found her throat. His fingers became the guardian of her air supply. She wasn't stupid. She liked breathing. Instead, her chin lifted slightly. Her eyes remained defiant. Her lips, mute. Green eyes flashed. Unspoken. Daring him....

Here, in the quiet of his room, she could hear her own heart pound. She could feel his breath on her skin, searing her. A battle of wills. How long would hers hold out, she wondered.

 

[Light Ice]

A good start. They'd a long way to go. He could tell in the light of her eyes. That fire. It burned in him, too. Lifting her entire, clear off her feet, he felt her slight weight take on the sinuous stretch of his arm. His muscles responded. Tensed. All at once the strength came on and he felt it, felt her, held her and shrugged. It all came there, his power exploded outward from the shoulder and she was airborne. He liked that. Liked the look of it. Liked the way it felt. For a moment, she was his. Then she was free.

Save for gravity.

And then the bed beneath her. This was not new to him. But it'd get that way, soon. Already he was unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves. The braces on his broad shoulders were left as they were, the top-button of his collar freed. He shrugged the tie loose, exhaled steadily. The words that came from him came as he turned his back to her, lit a candle on the desk.

"You wanted a fight, little girl." He said simply. "You've got yourself one."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He lifted her off the ground. Instinctively, her fingers locked around his wrist as he did so. The need for survival was a hard thing to fight, even though she knew she was in no fatal danger from him. Danger, yes. Just not of that sort. She trusted him with her life.

Her fingers slipped from his wrist as she was tossed back toward his bed as if she was nothing more than a rag doll. She wasn't shocked. She knew his strength. She bounced on the bed. It was with great discipline that she didn't utter a sound then. She watched him. Her eyes roaming over his body, taking in him rolling up his sleeves, the opened collar of his shirt. The tie he loosened. Fuck. He was glorious.

The moment his back was turned, she scrambled off the bed. To the far side. Then she remembered. He had the damn key in his pants pocket.

"You wanted a fight, little girl. You've got yourself one."

His words made her shiver.

 

[Light Ice]

He heard her. Tracked the frantic sound of her feet upon the hardwood. Distance. It'd not help her. There was no smile. He didn't take her for granted. Didn't, even now, overestimate himself. Another candle. Another. The soft light stretched out against the darkness, feeble against it. She, he imagined, stood veiled in his own shadow. There wasn't anything to deny on how he wanted her. There never would be. He'd known it over a year ago, when she'd first arrived, and he'd come to her in the night before the others. He knew it, and more importantly she knew it, when he reluctantly respected her enough to temper his own appetite.

That was what she was dealing with now, whether she knew it or not. Months of restraint. Patience. The IPad sat on the desk. He left it there, for now, and moved instead to take up the small glass of Bombay that he'd left for himself.

The rest was finished. It was a faint bit. A taste. The fire lit down his throat and tumbled down into his belly where it was stifled by another. He shook out the match, sulfur filled the air. Smoke, slate-grey, curled lazily upwards in a fine twisting spiral. He watched it a moment before looking back to her. There was no shame in showing her the way he adored her. No shame in showing her the way her shape, her sleek little self there across the bed, inspired his admiration. Masculine, and otherwise, as he flexed his big hands.

"There's no running, little girl. Not tonight."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He was danger incarnate. The kind that made women shiver and wet. She was no different.

She watched him from the shadows of the flickering candle light. Damn him for knowing so much. The candle light added intimacy to his room. Glowing. Warm. An intimacy that had always scurried on the edge of their awareness, their knowledge of one another. Had the time come to finally pay the piper?

His back was still to her. She let her eyes wander over it. Let them linger with unseen admiration of the broadness. Admired the unseen muscle she knew rippled beneath the shirt. She remembered the feel of them beneath her fingers. Her nails.

She wanted to simply stalk up to him and tear that shirt from his body. Trace muscle and bone with fingers and lips. She wouldn't though. Not yet at least. She was his for the taking. She always would be but now that, that time was here, she found herself fighting it. Like water crashing against a rock, instead of reaching the shore.

She watched him silently as he lifted a glass with his signature drink in it. Watched as he tipped it to his lips. Her eyes fell to his throat and watched him swallow. She could only imagine the heat as it made its way down. Her eyes closed. She swayed where she stood for a moment.

"There's no running, little girl. Not tonight."

His words brought her back. There was such a finality to them. As if they were meant for this moment. In this fashion. She knew the futility of the fight. The battle that was lost before it even began.

She raised her eyes to his face.

 

[Light Ice]

The glass was abandoned to the desk it came from. And she, soft-bodied and alive beyond the bed's edge, was made his goal as he took a lazy path toward her. The sound of his shoes, simple round-tips that straddled the boarder between casual and dress, was muted. Faint. Still, with the relative quiet of the loft that was his, they sharpened for themselves a distinct and immutable echo. What actions did not?

As he approached he lifted a hand. Found her cheek. The soft line. An elegant shape. For a moment he considered how they'd come to this. Anger. Desire. They were twins in the moment, wound tight to one another, and spiralled upwards to some great and unforgettable oblivion. It escaped his reach and his mention. It existed on some plane that he'd only seen a handful of times. It was there, lurking and lingering, like a haunt that hovered beyond calloused fingertips. She was there. Under his fingers. And still, for what lay within him, so very far away.

Because at the end of the day, despite his most ambitious of wanting, he had never truly caught her. She'd played a game that he could not win. She'd not allowed even a sliver of hope for it. She'd loomed large in her shelter of faux hearts given and received. He'd never let the weight of his opinion crush her or her spirits. Still, it'd been enough to sharpen every fraction of his desire, into one solitary and singular certainty.

He reached back and claimed the IPad. The brush of his finger bringing the screen onto the LED TV mounted along one wall. Pages, upon pages, of tally marks on the yellow notepad utility. And endless tide of them.

He let his eyes find her own.

"You've been a very bad girl."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He moved toward her. She retreated. For every step forward he took, she took a step back until his hand did what his steps couldn't. She felt his palm glide across her cheek and it was that simple act that stilled her. He reminded her, in that moment, of the first time that seemed so long ago. His gentleness, feigned or not, was the beginning of her undoing. He had always been inevitable, no matter where he roamed or to whom.

She knew him to an extent. As much as he allowed and she knew he would never ever truly be hers. For a moment or for a few heartbeats perhaps. She never lied to herself where he was concerned. He would always be the wind and she, the water.

Her eyes left his as he moved to reach for the iPad. Her eyes widened as the screen on the wall showed the yellow lined pad with dozens and dozens of tally marks. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something. Her eyes turned back to him and found his own on her.

"You've been a very bad girl."

"You.... you kept track... every single time?"

She should have moved. Anywhere. Out of his reach, but she couldn't make her legs work. It dawned. Sharp, like a wet fingertip traveling the rim of a crystal glass.

The time had come to pay the piper after all.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

​

With the intruding of the world beyond this one, the scene she was in with him was frozen in time with the promise that they would finish it, as time allowed. She believed him, trusted his word and his promises, for he never made one without following through. It may take some time to do so, but she could wait. In the meantime, the sands of time continued to fall, which brings us this moment, right now.....


Her hands were full, she could barely see around them. Aggie was prancing around her feet. So aside from trying to make it up the stairs to his loft, she had to avoid Agatha as well. It wouldn't do to trip and fall. Not only would there be a mess to clean up, but if she injured herself, he would probably laugh at her, then fix up the injuries and then simply make it better. She rather liked the idea of the latter.

He wasn't home. She had a key. At his door, she brushed aside her bundle, inserted her key and opened the door. Stepping inside with the dog at her heels, she managed to close the door and then glance around the living space as she took off her coat.

There. That was a good spot. Cait moved across the space and set the tree down in the space she had chosen for it. Out of the way, yet it could be seen and enjoyed. She removed the bag from her shoulder and started fishing out decorations. There were a few store bought ones, like horses with saddles and ones of dogs. There were homespun snowflakes and strands of popcorn and cranberries that could be hung out after the holidays for the birds. A string or two of small twinkle lights and for the top, a star.

Stepping back, she admired her work. A star for the top because she always made wishes on the stars and the Universe answered or nay as was its whim. She had one major wish for him and he already knew it. It was a constant prayer of hers every night. It wasn't a big tree nor was it decorated grandly. Simple. Homestyle. He'd understand. From the bag she fished out a present or two, wrapped in gold with a silver ribbon. One larger, one smaller. The latter, obviously a tie box. She couldn't look at a tie these days without remembering that day he sent her an image and all but told her what to do. She still blushed thinking about how obtuse she had been until she had caught on. Of all the memories they had made together, that one stood out the most and she suspected it always would. The larger one, again, had to do with the picture he sent. One of the things he had bought that day. He looked quite the dashing figure in them. A scoundrel. A rogue. But a damn fine sexy one. In the larger box, nestled among the tissue paper, was a small gift, for his keychain. A small golden sprig of mistletoe. To remind him of a red-headed imp of a girl.

Moving back to the door, she paused in the open doorway and glanced back. Aggie had curled up under the tree, next to his presents and was asleep. Cait left her there. One of the hands would come upstairs and let her out later. She'd leave instructions with one to do so.

The door was closed and locked once again. Her running steps were light on the stairs. She paused long enough to give Storm some attention before she slipped from the Barn and returned home to see to her own decorating.

​

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The only sound was the soft click as the key turned in the lock. She gently pushed open the door, letting herself in. The ornaments came down first, placed gently into a box for safekeeping and that box found a home on his closet shelf. The tree itself was taken down. The pine needles swept up and disposed of. His space was returned to its previous pristine way. From the looks of it, he hadn't been around for awhile. Agatha wasn't there either. With him, she supposed. Her gifts were gone, so he had at least been here at some point to claim them.

A busy, busy man.

She let herself out, leaving not one thing behind. Not even a footprint. Closed and locked the door, taking the tree with her down the stairs and out of the barn. One of the hands took it from her and would mulch it down. She moved to the paddock, one foot finding a lower rail to rest upon. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area. Beauty. Serenity. Glory. It greeted her eyes in the form of horses dotting the land. Idly she wondered how many he acquired by now. Behind tinted glass that protected her eyes, she hoped, wherever he was, he was well and found a measure of happiness and peace. Time to get home. She had things to do. Once last glance at the barn and the loft contained within. She left nothing of her presence there. His home would come into the new year with no residue of her person to be found. It was simply their way.

 

[honey_nut]

She stumbled into the barn with a curiosity and enchantment that drew her forward. It was Fall, and she dragged gold and amber leaves behind her over the threshold of the massive barn doors. The crisp Autumn air seemed to heighten her senses, and the sweet smell of feed cut the earthy mix of hay and leather. This place impressed upon her. It was massive…stunning. As she wandered further into the barn her eyes fell upon the line of stalls that stood to her left, every one occupied with a creature more beautiful than the last. The horses acknowledged her presence as she drifted passed them…a shake of the mane or a light stomp of the hoof. They hadn’t expected the presence of the newcomer, and they seemed just as curious about her as she was about them.

She stopped in front of a stall that housed a beautiful, onyx-colored horse, so dark it appeared to shine blue as it moved in the bright Autumn light. She pondered its shape, the way it moved, and wondered what it was thinking. The stature and sheer magnitude of these animals had always intimidated her, but she felt at ease as her eye met his. She outstretched an unsteady hand. Unsure of herself, she let it hang in the air inches above the horse’s soft nose.

Just as she had worked up the courage to run her fingertips down the horse’s whiskery nose, something interrupted her. A sound…a creak, coming from the top of a wrought-iron staircase she only just become aware of. She quickly retracted her hand and felt embarrassed for having intruded unannounced. She debated retracing her steps and escaping the barn undetected, but before she could decide a tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs, and caught her silhouette under his gaze.

 

[Light Ice]

My Nut,

Write for me! That's what you said. And I did. A few things. A blurb. Some sexiness. A seduction. I wrote it. Deleted it. Wrote it. Deleted it. Sometimes, when you were at the dining room table reading reddit threads, I'd pull this laptop out and hammer away a few things.

Nothing really felt right.

You know that I've been struggling when it comes to writing, lately.

Loving you, though, isn't a struggle at all. You're at work right now. I didn't leave you a note and I imagine when you checked your pad out and didn't see it there you were a little sad.

Surprise.

In a few weeks I leave for another giant adventure. You know what I have planned and where it will lead me. You cheer lead, adorably, and with staggering sincerity. Still, for all the times that I have told you that I love you, I don't think that I've ever been able to make you appreciate just how much I love you. Two days ago we went into that stupid cowboy restaurant in the mall and had lunch. You had a giant beer that we both knew you wouldn't finish.

I loved you a little more.

This note is about all those little tiny moments that make up a given day spent with you in which I find myself staring, watching, listening, and feeling more than I ever have before. You were not expected. You weren't someone that I wished for or waited for. You just happened. You dropped into my life and detonated inside of it and threw my entire world into chaos. I've never been so happy. I've never been so overwhelmed on the daily with another human being.

Loving you was never really a choice for me. It just was. And it just is. And I am so glad that we do it so well and so humbled that I am learning, constantly, to do it better. You are here, now. This small secret slice of who I am. A place where I explore the dark and dirty, the rough and tumble, and the flat out impossibly intolerant asshole part of my self away from the hustle of making a living and the wildness of living my dream.

You've even met a secret friend (Hi, Cait! <3).

It's a trip to be so entirely loved by someone so miraculously magic.

So, while you're still working, I'm going to close with this.

I love you.

Entirely.

In all measures and manners of the word - I love you.

I love the way you lose everything you touch almost instantly and then ask me to find it.
I love the way you laugh.
I love the snow shovel dance.
I love your glasses.
I love the intensity with which your curiosity manifests itself.
I love your kindness.
I love your inner hood rat. (hilarious)
I love those freckles that you hide with your makeup.
I love you.

















PS. I'm going to fucking wreck you tonight. Seriously.
PPS. I'm about to get you that bottle of wine you asked for.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

*soft laughter*

I don't mean to interrupt here but I just have to.

Ice, I have worried about you. I still do but in this one area called love... while there is this small hesitation (that will dissipate with time), there is so much more happiness I wish for you. It fills my heart to see you like this. That you have found someone to share life with.

I read the note you left for her and it makes me laugh with happiness for you. THAT! THAT is exactly what I have been wanting for you.

Take care of each other. Hell, wreck the damn sheets and break the damn bed while you're at it. Love just happens. You don't go looking for it. You might not particularly want it, but it will find you when the time is right. This is your time. Enjoy it. Be good to each other. Love each other.

you, LI.

for you, honey nut.

Be happier.

Cait~

PS, Happy New Year you two.