Marcuus Fenixx

A/N: This was just something that popped into my head and I had to get it down before it vanished. Just a simple little scene. And I'm terrible at naming things so I simply left the title of the second draft file. Also a re-worked ending is looking to manifest. Enjoy.

Mae


Marcuus Fenixx


It had been a long time and the war had been rough. An added four years in prison didn't make things any better. It had been a really long time. Despite his lust for battle, the years of adrenaline driven pandemonium that had helped to hone his seemingly cold and somewhat impulsive killing skills, he felt as though something was missing. There was something inside of him that yearned for the other side of that same adrenaline driven lust. The taste of a satisfaction earned far from war but delivering sensations not unlike those that he was in constant company of. Sensations that were deeply engrained in man's instincts. Something Marcus was afraid he'd forgotten.

The girl was thin, almost stringy but deep within her pale face lay a beauty that seemed fitting in the war torn environment. As a Stranded, her green eyes reflected the struggle of her survival. Fathomless and deep, they were crowned with a darkened nimbus, the wear doing nothing to detract from the pleasantness of her face. Her lips were a crimson red, a lot like the blood that was caked on her boots. Like the blood he’d seen spilled countless times. She was so delicate in his arms that he was almost afraid he would break her. Her fingers, long and thin, slid with ease over the buckles under his armor, the straps sliding away under her soft instruction. Her fingernails were caked with dirt but he barely noticed as she reached up and let the silken pads of her fingers trace a curve across the scars on his cheek. A loving gesture, something so familiar yet so remote.

Gently, Marcus slipped the Lancer from his back, stray strings of ammunition tinkling lightly as they joined the gun on the small table. When he turned back to look at her she was pulling the torn sweater over her head, the light tank top underneath twisted slightly with her movements. A slight, almost shy smile blossomed at the corner of her mouth. He reached out and curled and arm around her waist, the bulk tightening around slender curves. He could have sworn her smile widened.

Pulling her in he could smell the sweetness of her sweat. The slight tang of gunpowder could have been on either of them. The Stranded hadn’t survived because they were timid. He could imagine her pulling a trigger with the same ease that he used. She lifted her hand to his face, slipping her index finger into his mouth, sliding the pad across his lips. He could feel the beginnings of a callus there.

A smile crept across her face and pulling her hand away, wrapped it around the back of his neck, urging him forward, her lips just above his. Her tongue was wet and her lips soft when she came to him. A kind of raw hunger seized him, a weightlessness in his gut at the touch of her lips. It was something he hadn’t tasted for so long and he couldn’t be patient, he wanted more.

He pulled her tight against his body, her warmth seeping into him, bringing him closer to the old feeling of comfort and satisfaction…eons before the Pendulum wars, before the massacre of Emergence Day.

Gently, she moved away, her fingers touching lighting on his arm as she led him down to the makeshift bed behind her which consisted mainly of a cot rigged upon the box spring remains of a mauve couch. The springs groaned under the strain of two bodies as Marcus joined her on the cot. A hallow thud drown out the squalling as the armor plating on his boots hit the floor, filth and dried grime shaking loose of the tread and scattering across the floorboards. She lay back and looked up at Marcus as he crouched above her. Reaching out he trailed his fingers through her hair, allowing them to become entangled in the softness. Moments later, more fabric fell to the floor in a rustle.

Her breasts were small and delicate, adding to the fragile appearance of her body as Marcus cupped the flesh in his large hand. He let his fingers graze lightly over her skin for a moment before lowering his head to her body and pressing his lips to her sternum. Her hand wound itself around the back of his head as though to steady and guide him as he began to trail down her chest and onto her stomach. Very lightly, he opened his mouth, his tongue spilling from inside and sliding across her skin, the taste of salt tingling his senses. He could feel her fingers contract in their grip on his neck, her short nails digging slighting into his skin.

Leaning forward, he slipped his knee between hers and slowly pushed her thighs apart. Marcus could feel the tickle of her hand as it crept down his stomach and his thigh, slipping boldly over the warm flesh between his legs. A knot of pleasurable tension began to twist in his lower spine, radiating through his stomach and burning inside his thighs. For a moment the Lieutenant lost composer and jerked forward in her hand, her long fingers twisting around him in light, teasing touches.

He could feel the cool whisper of air breathe against his burning skin, the sweat that was creeping across his flesh prickling in the sudden chill. Arching his head back he gasped in a mouthful of that cool air, the stiffness in his neck popping under the movements. He slumped back down, his arms catching his fall just inches from her face. Her green eyes were searching his, her face not betraying the excitement that was boiling in her stomach.

Marcus studied her for a few moments before curling his strong fingers under her jaw and leaning down, covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. Her tongue slid gently in compliance with his. He felt her hand leave the heat of his abdomen, her fingers moving to slide across the curl of his ear. Reaching up with his other hand he grabbed her wrist and pushed it down against the bed, holding it still. He felt the moisture on her fingers brush against his skin, sending another wave of heat through his thighs. His tongue continued to memorize the crevices of her mouth, his body leaning down, pressing closer to hers.

The mattress continued to whine in protest under their movements, but all that filled Marcus’ ears were the light moans from the girl beneath him. He could feel each rush of air against his tongue, urging him to deepen the kiss. Pushing his knee up further, he could feel the warm dampness radiating off her skin. Releasing her lips, he moved his ministrations to her neck, his hand freely moving across her body, settling against her hip and gripping it tightly. Their bodies were pressed together, her skin slick and smooth against his, her breasts pressed against his chest.

As Marcus continued to glide his tongue across her flesh, her body began to sway , her hips pushing into his. Her moans were more audible now and he could feel the tendons in her throat tighten against his lips. Again, an almost desperate need consumed him and he shifted his body so that both knees rested under her thighs. Gently, he put a hand under the small of her back. Looking down at her Marcus couldn’t fight the small grin that was blooming at the corner of his mouth. Under heavy lids her eyes gazed out, expectant, her chest heaving slightly faster than it had been. Swiftly he thrust his body forward.

She cried out sharply, a rapturous spasm seizing her muscles, pulsating through her stomach. Suddenly her warmth surrounded him. Marcus paused briefly to catch the breath that had abruptly escaped him. He could feel her body tightening and with it came the unraveling of the knot that continued to twist at the base of his spine. His hand continued to grasp her hip, his grip inadvertently tightening. He had almost forgotten…

Slowly, Marcus slid against her, their bodies meeting in waves. The girl’s moans were caught in her throat, her voice so breathy that they were almost a whisper. But it seemed that she was also as impatient as he was. Her hips were thrust against his in an eagerness that matched his own, his grip so tight now he thought it might bruise.

Wrapping his arm fully around the small of her back, he leaned back on his haunches, pulling her with him so that she was almost sitting in his lap. She swung one arm lazily over his shoulder for support, her nails grazing his skin playfully. With both hands firmly on her hips Marcus began again. Her body felt weightless in his arms. Another wave of pleasure flickered through her body. Skin quivered as her breasts bounced with each gyration. Marcus bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself composed. It wasn’t easy to do with her gasps becoming more urgent, her own force helping his as she pushed herself onto him with blissful repetition.

It was as though Marcus suddenly remembered himself. All the senses and feelings that had been dormant inside him for so long were suddenly fluttering to life. His breath too was becoming sharper and more difficult to control. Sweat slipped from his brow, trailing along the paths the scars had carved into his flesh. Looking down Marcus saw that the girl’s face was flushed, her eyes closed her mouth open, glistening. This image along was enough to urge his body faster, her warmth seeping into his very pores.

Arching her back the girl pressed her body fiercely against his, the muscles in her thighs tightening so much they began to shake. A hissing intake of breath cut through the air and was ended with a deep groan. Marcus selfishly used her momentum and shoved himself hard into her. Another sharp cry escaped her lips and Marcus bit down hard on his own flesh, but that didn’t stop a grunt from rumbling over his tongue. A hot bliss spilled itself over him, the knot in his body becoming completely loosed.

For a moment he lost his composure and slumped down onto the bed, the girl lay shuddering slightly in his arms. He felt the warm wetness spill from his lips moments before the metallic taste of blood invaded his mouth. Carefully, Marcus set the girl down on the bed and fell forward over her, his arms outstretched to keep from crushing her beneath him. She reached up and with soft fingers wiped the blood that has slipped down his chin.

He closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch. For the moment he allowed himself to feel the vulnerability he barely remembered. He wasn’t sure that he liked it, but he drank it in regardless. He allowed the warmth of his memories to mix with the retreating tingle in his guts. At that moment he felt far away. Again to that place in time that felt further out of reach with every pull of the trigger. But now he could feel it, coiling within his reach.

A heavy golden light poured into the room as a cool breeze danced over Marcus’ bare skin…an evening breeze. That mean the darkness was coming soon and with its advent meant the awakening of the kryll. Marcus turned away from the window and focused on the figure lying on the bed. He watched her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He paused for a moment before leaving the window to return to the bed. The fleeting daylight was, after all, reason enough to wait out the night. Besides, he figured, there will be plenty of locust waiting tomorrow.