Words for Pain

She didn't wait until he opened the door completely, she pushed her way in and leaned back against it. She swallowed hard and stared into his eyes. Yes, it's there. He's felt it too. "I'm not so fragile, and I like to bite."

Tears stang her eyes, her breath came in short, angry pants. He held her gaze for a moment before he gave a short nod.

Her body hit his at full force, but he barely took a step back. One hand fisted in his braids as she attacked his mouth with hers. There was no elegance or persuasion in her lips, just dominance, tasting slightly of blood. She knew the leather of her armor could not be comfortable against the soft fabric of his clothing, but he just pulled her closer. There would be finger-shaped bruises on her thighs where he grips her beneath the flaps of her war skirt.

Her free hand reached for the side laces of her brigandine, but fumbled. He pushed her hand out of the way and had the laces out in the next breath. The armor hit the floor with a thump, followed by the whisper of her linen undershirt. Her back hit the stone keep-wall and scraped as he hitched her body up to grant access to her breasts. Teeth found the tender flesh of an inner swell. Her legs tensed around his ribs as heat shot down her torso. A high-pitched wail filled her lungs. He looked up from the angry red mark on her breast, only to grin when she pushed his face back into her cleavage.

His hands had not been idle either. With another tug, her warskirt fell to the ground. The rough homespun of his clothing made her shudder in want. She clawed at his shirt, desperate for skin. When her gauntlets and pauldrons got in the way, she attacked the buckle with her teeth. More leather hit the ground, accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric.

Beautiful honey skin turned white under the pressure of her fingers. She pushed one booted foot to the wall and kicked off. He hit the floor with a grunt and she was glad for the height of her boots as they protected her knees. If she'd been in a mood to speak, she might have complained about too many clothes. Instead she just finished ripping his shirt away.

He seemed as impatient as she. With a twist of his hips, her back was to the hearth rug. He stripped her boots from her legs and she was finally naked. He paused a moment, eyes wide as if stunned by the revelation. She grunted in irritation and reached for the laces of his breeches. He intercepts her, grabbing her hands in his own. He shook his head slowly and pushed her back to the ground, arms above her head. She didn't object because his teeth were on her again, at the crook of her neck. He transferred her hands to one of his and reached the other downward, over her breasts, belly, between her legs. One finger sank right in and she cried out because it wasn't enough. Her hips bucked, silently begging for more.

"You're so small, kadan," he murmured.

"It'll stretch!" she snarled, struggling against his hold. She froze and groaned when he added a second finger. Her back arched as his thumb found her clit and pressed hard. She jerked a hand free and grabbed his braids again. "I want you in me, now." Even voicing the want brought her close to tears.

Angry at herself, she kneed him in the side and shoved him into the footboard of the bed. With all the armor scattered around the room, finding a knfe was child's play. She grabbed one as she rolled up to straddle him. A new light lit his eyes as he tilted his chin up invitingly. She ran the flat of the blade down the side of his throat, turned closer to the sharp edge when she passed away from major blood vessels. Over his right pectoral she moved to the full edge and applied just the smallest bit of pressure. She flicked her wrist and blood beaded to the surface. The Sten gasped with closed eyes. She felt his cock twitch against her ass, still seperated by his breeches.

So she made an identical cut on the other side. Blood dripped in a trail over his nipple. She couldn't resist, she leaned forward to pull the disc of dusky flesh between her teeth. The copper flavor burst on her tongue and she wasn't sure who groaned first. Her fist clenched around the hilt of the knife. She wondered if she had enough fine motor control to mark him again.

"Should we wait until you've soaked through to the floor, kadan?" His voice nearly lowered to a never-heard-before octave.

She dropped the knife. A quick shuffle and he pushed into her and he was _big_ and she was not, but somehow he continued to slide inside. The fullness approached pain and it was almost, _almost_ enough to alleviate her emptiness. It was then she felt the tears on her face, but she could not have said the reason for her sobs.

She ground herself into his hips, relishing the heady mixture of pain and pleasure. She tilted her head back, breathing through her nose. His teeth went unerringly back to the mark at the crook of her neck. The resulting mark would last for weeks.

Or until she died.

She peaked with a shout, hands clenched in his hair, black spots dancing on her eyelids. Beneath her, the Sten stiffened and the skin on her shoulder parted with a small pop.

She went over again.

They spent the night on the hearth rug. He curled around her protectively. Not another word was spoken, even when she redressed and left the room.

Some pain just wasn't meant for words.