Lycan's Affection

The spring was enclosed, very much like Conaan's bath house, just that it was a little smaller, and lacked a roof. Eleanor went first, and a female servant helped her get out of the dress she had come in. She then gave her a smaller dress, then a robe to cover it. Her hair was put up in a ponytail too.

She swallowed as she pulled the robe around her. She was barefoot as she walked slowly to the spring, then stopped by the edge, enjoying the many different scents and the light heat.

"Leave us."

She turned to the entrance, and Conaan was standing by it, one hand holding a glass of wine while the other adjustedge the edge of the robe. It was the same as hers, and she could see the bare skin of his chest and chiseled stomach underneath.

His eyes were fixed on hers, his hair up in a messy bun, his lips slightly parted. The scar had blended with his skin, and it now looked like something he had willingly opted for. The edge of the glass caressed his bottom lip suggestively, sending goosebumps to her skin. He was ethereal.

She felt her breath hitch as the servants walked away, letting both of them be alone. Slowly, she turned away, then walked closer to the spring, her feet stopping on the first stair that led downwards into the spring.

Conaan had walked a little closer, but he still stayed a little behind her, his free hand now clenched behind him, his eyes a little dark.

She turned to him, then gently brought her hand to the band that held her hair up.

"Eleanor..." his voice was low, his breaths a little ragged.

She turned again, her eyes a little questioning. She bit down on her lip, then acknowledging his silent demand, she removed her fingers from the band.

She stayed with her back turned to him as he slowly covered the distance between them, the wine now forgotten. He was already intoxicated, and wine was starting to taste a little bland now.

Eleanor said nothing as his warmth filled her, even more than that of the spring, his right hand reaching for her shoulder, the other gently cupping around her waist.

His thumb lightly grazed the edge of the robe she was wearing, then slowly dropped it lower exposing her fair skin.

His feet guided them further into the spring, till she could feel the water up to her waist, adding to the warmth his hands had already introduced.

Slowly, his thumb pushed the robe even further down, and his other hand left her waist. She couldn't feel it, until his fingers tugged at the band in her hair, then gently set it free, letting it fall over her back, and a little over the shoulder.

She found herself at a loss for words, his movements so slow it almost felt like a punishment on its own.

She turned when he did nothing more, but she could feel him behind her, his fingers caressing her shoulder and her waist against the thin material of the inner dress.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes met hers, and they looked like he was reaching the edges too, just like her. "Getting you to lose control."

She swallowed. "What if I already have?"

She moved slowly in front of him, as they went deeper into spring, till she was facing the carved edge. She found herself between him and the wall, and she swallowed.

"What if I already lost?"

Her voice echoed softly, and he moved his hand on her waist, the pressure in his fingers tightening.

"Then, let me make you forget him."

She felt a stab of guilt at the slight vulnerability that showed in his voice and even though he didn't say it, she knew he felt a bit insecure since she had once been thrown over by her for Alexander.

"Conaan..."

"It's been torture, Eleanor. Every single day."

He moved even closer like him being this close wasn't already fogging her mind up, like him being this close didn't make her want to crave more.

"Let me feel you," he said, his voice going even lower. "I don't want to talk. I yearn to feel."

She tried to turn again, but his hand on her waist kept her in place, his hair lightly teasing her neck, his breaths hot against her skin.

"Then, feel."

He said nothing more, his lips speaking for him in a completely different way. He leaned forward to the bare skin of her upper back, his fingers drawing the signatures his lips started.

His lips were warm and soft and wet, the kind that made her want to grab fistfuls of his hair, the kind that made her want to gasp his name like she was chanting a prayer.

"Conaan..." She said, but he didn't reply.

His hand came down to her shoulder, his fingers tracing small patterns she wished would stay engraved on her skin all through.

His lips on her skin felt like ecstasy, like the only way to really belong to him. He suddenly moved away, getting her to face him. He looked just as breathless, and her hand reached for his face again.

It felt like trying to tame a beast, and Conaan was every inch one.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing gently against hers, taking her breath away. She bit down on her lips as his body pressed closer, his hand pulling her towards him as he sought to close up all the spaces and she found herself anxious, waiting for that one kiss.

"Look at me that way forever," he whispered into her ear.

Before she could reply, he suddenly lifted her so she was sitting on the edge, her legs dangling into the water, her now wet hair dripping around her. He looked up to her, his eyes dark beautiful swirls of green. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, as if making sure he wouldn't leave her hanging.

She leaned to him, her hands wrapping around his shoulders and his hands gently carassed the nape of her neck, his lips gliding down the sensitive skin right under her earlobe. She didn't realize when she tilted her head slightly to give him more space, her eyes closing as his left hand massaged the curve of her waist, his fingers gentle against her skin.

She could tell he could wait to kiss her, and he would rather claim her in any other way.

Suddenly, the door opened with a loud bang and a breathless man ran in, causing her to almost jump off the edge.

"Fire!"

Conaan pulled away from her, his breaths haggard, his eyes wide. "What?"

"There is a fire! In the children's village! All the children are trapped in! Fire, please help!"

Without another look to Eleanor, Conaan made his way out of the spring at inhumane speed, then out the door, managing only to keep his robe around him.