Eyes Like Mine
Eyes Like Mine
Rating: R.
A companion to "Night" What followed after their eyes met.
A warm touch ghosting over his face. A brush of lips to his cheek. The sensation of warm breath caressing his skin, and Edward was pulled toward consciousness. He gazed sleepily up into eyes like his, and the countenance of a man with conflicted emotions. Ed frowned slightly, confused. He watched his father lean down, moving as though time itself had slowed.
Those lips loomed closer and closer until flesh met flesh. The gentle press soon gave way to ravenous devouring, as though Ed was food to a starving man. Perhaps he was.
Had he ever kissed Mother like this?
Those lips trailing down the side of his neck. The moist trail left behind. Fingers making short work of buttons. A hand caressing a sweat-sheened belly. A mouth following in that hand's wake. Ed's hand fisting in golden hair. He shivered at the tickle of a beard. He gasped as pants were slid down toned thighs, revealing his most private part to air.
Eyes looking up into his, desire and a last ounce of morality warring for control. The battle won, a heated mouth engulfed him whole. Here was bliss. And passion.
And wrong.
There were those who still believed that the dead were in a better place. That their spirits watched over the ones that they loved. Looking down on the two of them now, what would she say?
Rating: R.
A companion to "Night" What followed after their eyes met.
A warm touch ghosting over his face. A brush of lips to his cheek. The sensation of warm breath caressing his skin, and Edward was pulled toward consciousness. He gazed sleepily up into eyes like his, and the countenance of a man with conflicted emotions. Ed frowned slightly, confused. He watched his father lean down, moving as though time itself had slowed.
Those lips loomed closer and closer until flesh met flesh. The gentle press soon gave way to ravenous devouring, as though Ed was food to a starving man. Perhaps he was.
Had he ever kissed Mother like this?
Those lips trailing down the side of his neck. The moist trail left behind. Fingers making short work of buttons. A hand caressing a sweat-sheened belly. A mouth following in that hand's wake. Ed's hand fisting in golden hair. He shivered at the tickle of a beard. He gasped as pants were slid down toned thighs, revealing his most private part to air.
Eyes looking up into his, desire and a last ounce of morality warring for control. The battle won, a heated mouth engulfed him whole. Here was bliss. And passion.
And wrong.
There were those who still believed that the dead were in a better place. That their spirits watched over the ones that they loved. Looking down on the two of them now, what would she say?