Blacken by Alandra Rankin (i love reading books txt) 📕

“I am used to that. I do not mind,” he smiled, soothing her, “will there be any ill will towards you for continuing to see me?”

She blinked in surprise, “No… No, Owen… I mean, he understands, but he won’t do anything to stop or convince me otherwise now.”

He hummed, “That is good then. I do not want to stop seeing you, dear Avie.”

She smiled at the new nickname, “I don’t want to stop seeing you either, Rhulle.”

In the dim light, she focused on the illumination of his eyes. They played with the contrast of fire and moonlight, red seeping in more as the hours ticked by, taking over. There was such power there, in his eyes. Avie found herself falling into them more often than not.

“Would you dance with me?” His statement came out of the blue.

“Right now? The movie isn’t even finished…”

“We were not watching it anyway, besides, I know you enough to realize when you would enjoy a change of subject.”

A quick glance to the television, she saw a scene that made no sense with characters she didn’t recognize. He was right…

“Yes, I would love to.”

His eyes lit up, standing to prepare and moving furniture. The boombox she left in his space started up, its soft music playing while they settled into a rhythm. Still entranced by his eyes, her own could not leave his face, drawing over the quills that surrounded the alabaster skin.

For the better part of the music’s duration, Avie’s gaze kept on the features, tracing over them with her eye’s trail, wanting desperately to touch and explore them. What did they feel like? What was the texture of his skin like? Would it be silly of her to ask?

“Avie, I see the questions on your face, I do not mind, if you would like.”

She smiled sheepishly, taking a moment before raising her hand that previously clasped in his; tentatively brushing the small, silky feathers. His eyelids lowered, the dance slowing to a crawl while Rhulle’s hand replaced itself on her hip.

Her fingertips traced the outline of tufts, the other hand caressing down the plumed bridge of his nose and brushed against the pale skin of his cheek. The skin there was soft, much like velvet—contrasted against his coarse and dark hands. It surprised her, her thumb caressing over the feel of him before moving, fingers starting to shake while her index touched his lips. She didn’t mean to, her hand followed her gaze, pausing there in her realization.

Their bodies weren’t moving now. In a standstill, soaked in the attention of each other.

“So bashful?”

His smile and voice caused her fingertips to briefly touch sharp teeth. Avie’s eyes flicked up, caught in his amber elegance. She watched the colour swim, mixing together, drinking in heavy breaths as she focused on them. Rhulle unfurled his wings; fluttering them in a gentle grace as her hand dropped to his chest.

Perhaps it was the way the moonlight danced across his feathered wings—the flex of muscle demonstrating power against gentle light trickling in through the darkness. A juxtaposition wherein beauty, power, command, and caress all joined in one fleeting moment, causing a sharp inhale of realization from its observer.

She was shaking now, a hot band burning in her chest, constricting and squeezing, as all she could do was stare. Avie should not feel like this; it was taboo, it was outlandish—it was something she had to stifle down. Rhulle only gazed back, features cooling down to a serious look, increasing the apprehension, those heavy eyes filling her attention.

He grasped at the hand that still attached to his face, pulling her astride to the sofa where they had been seated only moments ago. Rhulle sat, grabbing her hips to place her atop of him. Avie gasped in surprise, his action causing that constricting feeling to tread lower.

She felt the plumage, soft and caressing on her legs where the hem of her pajama shorts had ridden up, hands instinctively going to his shoulders. Rhulle was bathed in moonlight, shadows from the tree outside waved on his face as he stared at her. At this moment, Avie found him so incredibly… beautiful.

What was he doing? What was she doing?

A hand went back to his face; thumb stroking the side, a soft crooning could be heard from him. His hands stroked up and down her back, eyes rolling back and closing as her hands massaged his nape and neck. That sound increased to a staccato of sighs, croons and warbling, the pleasant noise he emitted because of her. He held her legs now, absentmindedly kneading the flesh there, opening his eyes to find hers.

There he sat beneath her, sighing and gasping, trying to keep eye contact despite his eyes fluttering closed periodically. He looked nothing like the cryptid she first met, full of power and malice... He looked, he looked…

Like he needed a kiss.

She leaned down, lips meeting his. Avie felt him stiffen, his eyes snapping open and casting that amber-scarlet glow. Even though her eyelids the radiance penetrated, the kiss only lasted a second before a soft moan escaped him. She deepened the kiss, that sound bringing molten lava to burn wildly in her abdomen.

The burning made her bolder. In the rush, the stifled feeling finally came out and she let her emotions race, feeling him enthusiastically kiss her back.

God… It felt… He was…

Incredible.

The wind blew harshly outside, causing a loose bough to snap and hit the side of the manor with a crack; the noise caused them to startle and separate.

Heavy breaths filled them both as the adrenaline wore down. The woman still sat on top of him, hands curled in long feathers while his encompassed her back and thigh. They just stared at the other, unsure of what to say over their actions.

The front door slammed open, alerting them that someone had broken in.

“Avie! Avie, where are you? I know you’re here!”

She threw her head back towards the door, “Owen?”

Jumping off, a quick apologetic glance was cast