Children of the Moon

I stand silently in the garden, inhaling the heady scents of the night-blooming flowers. Nearby water runs and bubbles over rocks. Bats flutter overhead, making almost inaudible sounds. Occasionally one will fly off in search of food. Something rattles through the bushes, just past my hearing. It is huge, predatory, a cat perhaps. I sense its hunger but feel no threat, and dismiss it as unimportant. Above all the stars twinkle brightly around a sliver of a moon.

I kneel in the grass, feeling the breeze caress my bare flesh. Long hair flows down my back, tickling my heels as I stretch my arms toward the sky. Softly my voice begins the lyrical chant, my nightly prayer to Luna. I have no faith or conviction toward the night gods. If I did, it would be for Nox, or Loki. It amuses me to pay tribute to my captor, She who binds me to the night.

My senses are dulled, I think. How else to account for the fact that I sensed nothing? The "cat" I had dismissed as no danger, perhaps that is why I hear nothing.

My hair is grabbed roughly, my head pulled back. My body arches upward as I feel the sharp edge of a blade against my throat. A harsh voice whispers in my ear, sending a thrill through my body. "Don't scream." The blade presses harder, its tip drawing blood.

I close my eyes tightly as lips move to taste the blood, tongue flicking across the wound. His breath blows across my cheek as he pulls away, looking down upon me. Still my eyes do not open.

There is danger. This man hungers for blood and violence. I sense that on him. The air around him tastes of blood. The sharp tang that only a lifetime of killing can account for. There is strength here. I feel the air vibrate with it, and with his hunger. He growls softly, the sound coming from deep within his chest. He is frustrated with my silence. He is frustrated that he cannot read me. Yes, there is danger here, for I can sense a kindred soul…

I know that he will not harm me. He can sense my hunger as I wait, silent and patiently, for his command. His hunger matches my own. His passion and lust hang on the air around us. It is a bubble, a rip in space and time. All the world is gone for now, as I wait for him to move, to realize that we have been brought together for a purpose. A bloody purpose that will feed the Chaos that burns within us both.

He growls again, replacing the knife with his hand. He squeezes for a moment, causing me to gasp softly. My eyelids flutter but do not open. He inhales deeply the scent of my arousal. He moves forward, growling in my ear. "I could kill you right now" as his hand squeezes tighter.

Bursts of light go off in my head. I whimper softly, leaning into his touch. Softly I whisper. "You won't" The words causing pain in my throat as breath struggles past the constriction.

He laughs softly, amused and intrigued. "No?"

I lean further into his touch, my lips forming the word "No" but unable to speak. The light fades slowly. My body begins to tingle. Tiny electric shocks radiate outward from the pressure of his hand at my throat. A drop of blood is squeezed from the wound, slowly tracing a trail of fire down my breast, hesitating for a moment on my hardened nipple. It falls onto the back of my hands, which are folded together, arms resting across my thighs. With the last of my strength, I open my eyes, gazing up at my attacker.

He gasps sharply, the hand falling away. I feel a pang of regret as the darkness recedes. Our eyes hold as I take several gasping breaths. "Damn" he mutters, at a momentary loss for words. The moonlight is caught and reflected in our eyes.

He sits abruptly on the nearby blanket as I continue to kneel. Our gaze is still locked, neither of us blinking. I see recognition flicker and feel a momentary hope as he stares at me. I can almost hear the wheels turning as he thinks, wondering where I got the "shine" done and why. It is rare for females and, far as I know, I am the only one.

I speak softly, anticipating the question, wanting to get it out of the way. "I don't know. I have always been a child of the moon. Whatever life I lived before, I can't tell you because I do not remember." I lean toward him slightly, letting my hair bring some slight modesty to my appearance as it covers my breasts and falls into my lap. "I am called Sylver, or Syl. For the hair. As you can imagine, few who see the eyes have lived to tell of it."

He smiles appreciatively as he watches me. Finally he opens his senses. I watch, amused, as his body reacts. He can smell the taint of blood and death on me. He feels an echo of himself, the predator, as he studies me. Muscles ripple under his skin as he leans forward. Deeply he inhales the scent of me. A trace of vanilla as well as the taste of blood and the overwhelming arousal.

"It excites you." He sounds curious. There is a sandpaper tone in his voice that, with the obvious tightness of his pants, betrays his own excitement.

I say nothing, merely watching him. My eyes trace his form, admiring the savage strength and barely subdued violence of him. I allow my own lust and hunger to show as he reaches for me.

"Riddick." He says softly, answering my own unspoken question. His lips graze across the hollow my throat, tongue flicking across the cut from earlier. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into his lap as his teeth nip along my shoulder. My arms go around him, nails scraping at the back of his head and up over his closely shaven scalp. Vaguely I wonder where else he shaves as my all thought is cut off.

One of his hands move to my throat again, squeezing slowly as his teeth sink into the bundle of muscle and nerves where the neck joins with the shoulder. I whimper softly, hands running down his bare back, nails digging deep furrows.

The scent of blood is in the air as my nails and his teeth draw blood. My nails dig deeper as my body tenses. I wrap my thighs around his waist, rubbing against his hardness. Only a thin barrier of cloth separates us as I squirm and moan against him. I bite into his shoulder, finding that same spot to stifle my moans as my body tightens and contracts in a series of tiny orgasms, juices soaking the crotch of his pants, making the barrier of fabric seem thinner.

As I calm down slightly, he pushes me back onto the blanket, quickly stripping away the barrier. His mouth comes down on mine as he stretches out beside me. Hands wander over heated flesh. Lips part, tongues dance and explore. Our bodies are just far enough apart to give access to wandering hands, close enough to feel the heat and needs that radiates from both of us.

My hand moves down his belly, across neatly trimmed hair. My fingers brush along the silky length as I take him in hand. I marvel at the weight and girth of him as I realize that I have never done this before. Strangely I feel no hesitation or embarrassment about it. Briefly I consider and discard the idea of warning him. Instinct tells me I have waited for this moment, for a man… perhaps this Riddick… Who will claim me as His. It must be an act of violence, lust and, possession, else the wait is pointless.

I put a whimper into my voice as I break the kiss. "Now. Take me…" His eyes gleam as he moves over me, pushing my thighs apart as he moves between them. His lips close over a nipple. He pulls my arms above my head, holding wrists with one hand as he uses the other to guide himself into my dripping entrance. He rests there for a moment, fingers digging into my hip as the teeth close over my nipple.

My whimper is real this time. "Now. Yours." I gasp as he pulls me towards him, thrusting forward. A swift movement, he is broken through the barrier and buried fully within me. He stops there, letting me adjust to the feel of him. I worry for a moment that he will be angry with me, but I recognize the glint in his eyes as hunger. His mouth comes down over mine.

He releases my arms and pulls my legs so that my knees rest on his shoulders. My body lifts off the blanket with the move, not wanting him to leave me. His tongue moves within my mouth, mimicking the long, slow strokes as he moves within me. He pulls out every time, then thrusts fully in again. My thighs tighten against his shoulders, providing leverage to push myself onto his thrusts.

There is no pain, only a slow fire that builds in intensity as he moves within me. He senses this and moves faster, harder. I cannot breathe, he drives all thought away. His hands on my hips bring us together with bruising force. I feel his body tense as he growls "Come" into my mouth.

I was wrong before, when I was sure he would not harm me. I know now that I am dying, that he is killing me with his entire body instead of just his hands. I know this, and I do not care. I am his, and if he kills me, I welcome it. I exist for this moment. I exist for him.

He pulls his mouth away as he pounds into me, letting my cries fly out into the night. My legs slip down to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper inside. I grind against him as waves of sensation radiate outward from our joining. My breathless moans are answered by his soft gasps. Inner muscles tighten around him and I feel a throbbing as the tension within his body is released into me.

The moment seems to drag on toward eternity before we finally begin to relax. My legs open, feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls out slowly, still semi-hard. Every movement sends another wave of sensation through me, making the muscles flutter, causing him to moan. He lays on his side, pulling me close for another kiss.

He pulls the blanket, wrapping it around our exhausted bodies. Softly he whispers "I think I'll Keep you."

"Yes." I say, snuggling against him. "Yours."

Wrapped securely within his arms, the blanket, and the night… I drift into a dreamless slumber.

I hear him whisper as his arms tighten around me. "Mine." But am too tired to respond.