Dar

Tammany carries me from the door to the bed, whispering sweet-nothings the entire way. He lay down with me, wrapping an arm protectively around my upper half, his body pressed up against my back. I turn my head as far as I can to try and see his face, and he responds by propping himself upon his free arm and pressing his mouth to mine.

"Stay with me..." I breathe, a smile beginning to form on my lips, and he nods in response.

Why aren't I more scared of him? I know what he is capable of, and yet I want his touch, so hot against my skin. I am so conflicted, my head and better judgment telling me to make him go, yet my body yearning for him to stay.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asks, bringing a hand up to brush the hair from my face when I'd made no more progress in conversation.

"Oh, ah..." I blush. "I feel I should be afraid of you. That you're dangerous."

"Why?"

I hold my arm up in response, the bright red line against my white skin terribly obvious.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, bringing my hand around to his face and kissing my palm. "I don't mean to hurt you. I get..." he shakes his head, frustrated, searching for the right words. "Stupid, in the heat of the moment."

"But why blood?" I try not to sound absolutely revolted; though I'm sure I fail.

He smiles a bit. "It's just so...intimate." He practically sings the word, a smile lighting his face, and I very nearly smile back. It is hard not to, the way the simple thought of being that close to someone makes him so happy.

My fears, (at least temporarily) abated, I lean in to kiss him. He takes my far shoulder and brings it around, turning my body to face his, the both of us squeezed into my impossibly small bed. The arm that had been wrapped around me now rests on the small of my back, pressing my torso into his. The rough spun cotton of his shirt is uncomfortable on my tender skin, and I long, not just for that reason, to remove it from him.

I stop kissing his smooth, warm lips and tuck my head, looking up into his eyes through my thick black lashes. My cheeks begin to burn as I take the top button of his shirt into my fingers. A deep, satisfied breath escapes him as he no doubt realizes I am ready to give in to him. That I am finally acknowledging that I want him as well.

As I move further down his shirt, exposing his perfectly sculpted chest, his breathing becomes labored. A slight sheen of sweat dampens his face, and he seems, not for the first time, that he is having a hard time controlling his hands. I know by now that if I looked into his eyes they would be nearly black.

When I'd gone all the way down the row of little white buttons he shrugs the offending piece of clothing off his shoulders and onto the floor, where it joins the myriad of my clothes previously abandoned earlier that evening. My hands come up to run over his chest, his muscular arms, his flat stomach, all covered in white, unblemished skin.

Tammany lets out a small groan and pushes his hip up against mine, grabbing at my protruding hip bone so that I stay unmoving against him, able to feel the physical effects of his desire.

"I don't know what to do for you," I admit quietly. "I've never been with a man before. Never even seen one so exposed as this." I glance again at his muscled form.

Outside the hospital walls, such a situation as this simply would not happen. Women were meant to be chaste until their wedding night, dates between couples were chaperoned by parents, and courtship was a lengthy process. But here, among the orphaned and the indigent, none of those rules apply.

"I'll go slow. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere tonight." He runs a hand gently down my side, from my shoulder all the way to my knee.

"Don't you have work to do?" I tease.

"Samuel is the second on tonight. He can handle an empty hall and a ward full of sleeping girls," he grins.

I nod, and he fingers the knot of ribbon at my waist. He unties it, painfully slow, savoring the moment. His free hand brings the hem of my shift up and over my thigh, hips, and stomach. I lift my hands and arch my back as he slips it above and over my head, discarding it on the floor. I exhale.

Tammany takes up my face in both hands and kisses me, bringing my body in to touch his. The feeling of his bare skin against mine is almost overwhelming. His skin is as smooth and perfect as my own (sans the scalpel's marks) yet coiled underneath with hard, tight muscles. I press as close to him as our bodies will allow.

My senses seem heightened in this new intimacy. Everywhere our skin touches tingles. I can feel his rapid breaths upon my lips and all but hear his heart beating. I have an ache between my thighs I've never known before, begging to be touched.

And then he does. Tammany's hand rubs hard down my stomach and between my legs, cupping his hand to cover the entire expanse of my most intimate area. I jump and moan, bringing my head back to allow him to kiss my ear and neck.

He rubs with the palm of his hand twice, sending little waves of pleasure all the way to the bottoms of my feet. The he shifts, and I can feel him grab at me, more than simply rub with a flattened palm.

I arch back in surprised surrender as he takes my nipple into his mouth at the same time his finger enters me. My nails sink into his ribs and he rubs his thumb across the little ridge outside my body, while another digit works from within. His hips move rhythmically in time with his hand, yearning to be inside.

I squirm and writhe, Tammany kissing up and down the length of my heaving chest. I am truly disappointed when he slowly withdraws his hand, taking both of them to either side of my stomach and scooting my body to the center of the bed. He brings himself atop me, his pants straining to conceal his building enthusiasm.

Kissing farther down my torso, he rocks back on his heels, reaching to the back of his trousers, retrieving the scalpel he kept there. I eye it suspiciously, but say nothing, reminding myself that I agreed to give myself to him willingly.

Bending once again, Tammany plants a soft kiss directly below my navel. He continues to slowly work his way down, bringing my legs up on either side of him. My entire body trembles with a heady mix of adrenaline, fear, and anticipation as I am laid open before him. The warmth of his breath on my sensitive patch of skin is making my head light with pleasure, and his mouth has not even touched me yet.

By the time his lips truly meet my fold I am nearly begging for it. I moan loudly when he buries his head between my thighs, arms wrapped around my legs, hands planted firmly upon my hips.

He works for a little while with his mouth and then fingers, until I squirm and writhe beneath his touch. He pauses momentarily, bringing the scalpel up. He kisses my left inner thigh, once, then cuts a small thin line, no more than three inches, and runs his hot tongue along the fresh mark. The pain of the cut is lost in the pleasure of his mouth on me.

Tammany alternates between using his hands and his mouth, occasionally moving to taste the thin line of blood trickling slowly down my thigh. A sensation like none I've ever felt before is mounting within me, bringing me closer and closer to a breaking point. Tammany sensed my growing urgency and moves quicker, deeper, pushing me over the edge in a fit of release. My hands clutch tightly to the sheets beneath me as waves of ecstasy wash over my body and stars shot behind my eyes.

I lay, stunned and panting, as Tammany sucks at my thigh once more, then moans into it, catching his breath. After a moment he begins to apply pressure to it, and I know it must have begun to bleed rather profusely, though in the moment I could not have cared less, my body still alight with the sensation of my very first orgasm.

My head is just beginning to clear when there comes a knock upon the door.

"What?!" Tammany snapped, a feral edge to his voice. It is a stark contrast to the tenderness he'd shown only moments before.

Samuel pokes his head into the room but does not meet our faces, staring at the floor instead.

"Stella's having another fit. I need your help restraining her. There's no one else here." He doesn't wait for a reply, just closes the door and retreats back down the empty hallway.

Tammany sits up and sighs, then smiles at me, calm once again washing upon his features.

"The bathwater should still be warm. Get some sleep, Love."

He was gone before the lovely sound of his accented voice had left my head, leaving me to contemplate the meaning of what we'd just done, alone.