Yellow Roses
I want to remind you that, but for a very few exceptions, these stories do not run consecutively. They are not dependent on one another.
This one may seem a bit more ‘familiar’ to some… at least the lover may. *smile* But I think I was far more brave when I wrote it, not too long ago.
Blushing ahead. Be prepared. But then, I really am very shy and blush easily.
SC/sc
From the crystal lamp resting peacefully in the centre of the wooden night stand, there is a warm, yet somewhat wan glow bathing the small room in liquid, amber light. It mingles serenely with the silver beams of moonlight that make their way through the tightly closed slats between the Venetian blinds that stand as stoic guards of the solitary window, hiding the two figures within from prying eyes and the curious gazes of feathered watchers outside. Hung with lace curtains that cradle the night’s darkness, suspending its touch from these two stolen lovers, the silent window is a solitary witness to the dancing shadows that meander through the intimate quarters.
In the darkened and silenced house, each room is empty but this little corner, tucked away at the rear of the home, nearly forgotten but for the two who share the smallish bed that fills most of the room. Close together they lay upon the fluffy, new pillows, bedecked with white shams sprinkled with the same clusters of yellow roses that have been woven into the soft, cotton fabric of the sheets that surround them. To guard against the cold of Winter’s kiss, there is a pretty, blue and white quilt, once neatly tucked over the delicate sheets, now slightly dragging along the floor where the eager lovemaking of only a short time ago abandoned care and left our lovers too languid to right such a meagre detail.
Warm in the lingering shadow of their lovemaking and the heat of soft kisses, the two lay comfortably supported as much by the slightly sagging mattress as by each other’s arms. Hovering slightly over the lady, we see her lover first, silver hair catching the glints of light in silken threads that border the darkness of grey. The smooth arch of his back exposed to the threads of moonlight and the crystal, lamp-lit glow, is deliciously free of any covering, as is the rest of his form, hidden beneath the spreading covers. Elegantly balanced on one hip and the bent elbow of the arm that circles her shoulders, his other arm is wrapped loosely around her waist to lightly caress her hip as he presses a soft kiss against her brow.
The blushing and somewhat timid lady reposes prettily against the pillows, her auburn hair spread across the yellow roses, mingling with the lace trims and trailing against the sheets. She too is free of any covering but the dainty sheets and taller form of the lover who rests lightly above her. Pale arms are wrapped gently around his shoulders, as the tips of her fingers trace idle circles over the smooth skin, dipping low along his back to tease his waist before once more rising.
"Ah, your hands are cold!" Shivering with the pleasure of her touch and not truly the cold, he laughs playfully against her ear and whispers somewhat conspiratorially, "Here, let me warm them for you..." Seeing her pause with a questioning look, he raises his eyebrows before laughing once again. "Don’t you trust me?"
Feigning a look of exasperation, she places a hand lightly over his heart and speaks quietly. "I am not at all certain that I do trust you, as you seem to have forgotten my name..." Her soft laughter and gentle admonition brings a look of surprise to her lover’s face before his laugh joins with her own and he quickly soothes his lady with a light kiss, quietly whispering her name against waiting lips before repeating the gesture, deepening the kiss and drawing her closer into his embrace.
Without releasing her lips, abandoning the warmth of her skin for only a moment to grasp the edges of the pretty sheets, he pulls them up and over their two forms, covering them in a soft wave of white fabric. With one hand still upon his heart, she laughs as his twinkling eyes meet her own beneath the somewhat dim and murky light filtered through the pretty weaving of this makeshift tent.
What does his quiet gaze see in the reflection of her own? This tender lady who keeps his heart under such close guard, both with her gentle hand and with her love? And what does she glean in the emerald of his eyes or in the beat of the heart she so lightly caresses beneath the press of her palm? Quietly, his whisper breaks the silence between their gaze as he asks once again, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes. I do.” Her reply is soft, given amid a small smile and the almost indistinct press of her fingertips against his skin.
Gently now, his lithe fingers lift the light hand that rests against his chest, drawing it slowly to meet his lips, though his eyes have not yet forsaken her own, watching her intently as the first kiss falls against her fingertips. The trace of a smile crosses her mouth as his lips continue to bless her fingers with tiny, warm kisses. Beneath the shadows of yellow roses, he turns her hand to press the heated gift of his lips upon the palm. In winding rivers that traverse the cool plateau, his kisses follow the faint lines until they reach her wrist, leaving delicious shivers against the delicate skin before carefully replacing her hand upon his heart.
Sighing, she raises her other hand to trace with a trembling fingertip the slight cleft in his chin. The result is his familiar, somewhat shy smile as he takes her hand in his own, lifting it to the waiting kiss of his lips. This hand too is covered in tiny kisses though he does not stop at her wrist this time but rather continues the line along the sensitive inner side of her arm, pooling at her elbow and bringing a light, innocent giggle from his lady.
“Alright! My hands are warm now!” But her laughter and gentle pleas do nothing to stop his kisses and he follows the pale length of her arm, delighting in her ticklish skin until he can bury his lips against her shoulder to reply with a sly smile.
“Mm... Yes, they’re warm, alright. But the rest of you is shivering with cold!” His whisper falls among a bevy of slow, heated kisses that follow the line of her collar bone to the other shoulder, and back again, disappearing along her throat, rising over her jaw to her temple.
“No. Not with cold...” She breathes the words softly against his ear, one hand reaching to stroke through the thickness of his hair, pulling him close, making of him her covering as though only his form can quench the frost of her need. Closing her eyes and leaving a heated kiss upon his cheek, one graceful leg bends so that she can feel the silken caress of his thigh against the hidden inner side of her own. In quiet understanding, his lips fall against hers in a slow, deep kiss as his hand finds the path along her hip, dipping between their two bodies to lightly caress the heated centre.
Sighing, he releases her lips, bowing his head to place a reverent kiss upon the round of her breast, lightly distracting her with tiny kisses that circle the darker nipple as smooth fingers slip along the warmth he holds, delving carefully into the sensitive folds. Her quiet gasp becomes a trembling moan as his lips close upon the tender flesh beneath his mouth while gentle fingertips stroke the intimate heat between them.
Beneath the hand that still rests against his heart, she can feel the tripping beat within him, mingling with the light rise and fall of his breath. As his lips languidly release her breast to similarly worship the other, her fingertips slip as if to move away from his chest, but with his other hand, he stays her motion, covering her fingers with his own, pressing her palm more firmly against his skin.
“But... you...?” Her words are the mere stirring of sound behind quiet breaths as she peers questioningly into his eyes.
“Shh... This is for you. Only for you.” His words are soothing, soft against the rise of her breast as his fingers continue to bring rivers of delight along her skin teasing the hidden folds, slipping deep within her until at last, she whispers his name in quiet supplication before shivering beneath the heady fall of pleasure with a lost moan.
Raising his gaze to meet hers once more, he smiles at the bright flush that stains her cheeks and places a tender kiss against her lips before pressing his cheek to her own. “Ah, you’re all warm now. Beautiful...” His whisper disappears with a light kiss against her temple. So quietly now, his voice sings softly at her ear... words she has known forever, it seems, yet they breathe new melodies each time they sound. Warmed and deliciously heated by this gentle lovemaking, one arm encircles him even as her hand maintains its place above his heart.
As he wraps his arms around his lady now, drawing her closer, their movements dislodge the makeshift tent that hides them and he draws it away to rest at his waist, exposing them both once more to the muted lamplight. The soft quilt upon the sheets slips away, falling to the floor, leaving the two lovers only partially covered now in a shower of white cotton woven with yellow roses that hide their stolen kisses.
Comments
Post a Comment
If you do not have anything kind to say, then do not say anything at all.
Thank you.