Dragon Quest VIII (Eight/Jessica)
Aug. 25th, 2007 06:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
queenoftheskies.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kinkfestTitle: Touching Heaven
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: graphic sex
Word count: 1,529
Summary: Eight and Jessica have sex on the wing.
Prompt: #12. Dragon Quest VIII, Eight/Jessica: Wingfic/Sex in high places - Dragon wings.
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm late posting this.
Touching Heaven
I remember the first time. Wings the color of rubies sprang from his back, a tail extended from the end of his spine. His slitted eyes glowed like jewels in the late afternoon sun. But, there he stopped, choosing to remain only half-Dragovian, in protest, I assumed, to the family that had cast him aside.
He took me in his arms and pulled me close, touched his lips to mine.
“I love you,” I said, but he looked away.
His skin was rough beneath my fingertips as I stroked his cheek, but still skin and not scales. I’d never understood why she discarded him for being different when he’d loved her even when she’d been cursed.
“Eight, look at me.” I understood how he felt. Once our quest ended, Angelo had left me as Medea had left him, alone and miserable. And, so we’d turned to one another until the uncontrolled shapeshifting began.
At first, he’d hidden for fear his other form would frighten me and then for fear he’d hurt me unaware. I knew they were all excuses for him to avoid the pain and heartache again, even when I assured him that none of it mattered to me and that I’d be with him always.
And so he’d come to me, of his own accord, at last. Now that he was able to control the shifting, he seemed more at peace with himself. But, he still hadn’t conquered his fears if he couldn’t even so much as look at me with those beautiful jeweled eyes.
“Take me with you,” I begged. He didn’t think I knew that he took to the heavens in dragon form, but I did and had watched him from afar, envious of his grace and his freedom as he slipped the trappings of Earth.
He kissed me again, so sweetly it brought tears to my eyes. Then his wings unfurled and he flapped once, propelling us into the sky. The wind whispered between us and around us, rustled our hair and stirred our clothes. In the chill of the air and the rush of excitement, I felt a blush of desire spread through my body and into my cheeks.
I knew he could feel my nipples hard against him as they pressed through the thin fabric of my blouse. He hardened against me in response. His wings beat the air again and we soared higher as my hands found their way into his pants.
I wanted him, more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. He was so kind, so vibrant, so alive. And, I wanted to live again, past Alistair’s death, past my possession by Rapthorne, past abandonment by Angelo.
His head dropped to my chest, his breath warm between my breasts. I shivered, more from arousal than the touch, or the cold of the air around us. He must have sensed it, might have smelled it on me in his half-dragon form, for he dipped his tongue into my cleavage, leaving a wet trail as he worked his way back up to my lips.
He looked past me and above me, his eyes alight in the failing sun. I followed his gaze, but barely saw it, a dark blur high above the highest clouds. We circled upwards, through misty wisps that dampened our skin and blocked out the care-filled world below.
It was a temple, carved so high near the top of the tallest peak that I wondered if eagles even dared to fly so high. But, Eight could and so, I assumed, had his Dragovian brethren, many years before. The temple was so old as to crumble, the ledge barely holding our weight when we touched down.
“I found it,” he said, leading me into the courtyard, “when I was learning to fly. It looks like it was abandoned...a long time ago.” He folded his wings across his back as we crossed to a series of buildings carved directly into the cavern wall.
Dust motes danced in the thin air, lit by an ethereal glow that rose from somewhere deep inside the ruins.
“What is it?” I asked in a whisper, afraid that speaking aloud would break the spell.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head; a smile crept across his face. “But, look at this...”
And, he dragged me until I followed, across the cracked and splintered stone to the base of a pair of towering double doors far too high off the ground for us to reach.
“Do you think...” I hesitated, torn between awe and fear. “Is it all right for you to bring me here? I’m not...” I felt an unexplainable twinge of regret that I wasn’t like Eight. Not that there was anything wrong with who I was, not because I wanted to be someone else, but more that I envied him the freedom the wings gave him and the richness of past that his heritage presented.
He kissed me, pressing my back against the metal doors, freeing my breasts from my blouse with trembling fingers. I gasped at the warmth of his touch. My nipples hardened again at the chilled breath of wind that whispered through the ancient ruins. He noticed and ran his tongue, with the hint of a fork, across one before latching onto the breast while he cradled it in both hands.
I shuddered as he dragged my breast deeper into the heat of his mouth, clutched at his arms, at his tunic, to keep my feet. It felt good, so good that I moaned, arching my back to push myself further into his mouth.
His teeth raked the nipple as his lips broke the latch with a slurp that sent chills of desire down my spine. I fingered my other breast while he watched, then his mouth joined in, taking each of my fingers inside before I pulled them away to allow him free access to the sensitive skin.
How long we languished there, lost in the pleasure of touching and being touched, I don’t know. But, a shifting of metal and a creak behind the great gates made us start, sent Eight back a step, dragging me with him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, and we ran toward the ledge from which we’d entered, hand in hand.
Intoxicated with the fear of being caught, we stumbled over the edge and it wasn’t until we hit free fall with the cold air stinging my skin that the fear turned to terror, and I clutched Eight in a death-grip. He smiled as he pulled me close, cradled me so he could get at my breasts still. And, between the thrill of his touch and the thought of falling, I couldn’t decide which made my heart pound faster.
At length he spread his wings, arched to catch the air, and we floated, drifting with the currents of wind. His mouth sought my lips while he freed himself from his pants. I pulled up my skirts in invitation, felt him hard and wet against my legs.
I screamed at the first touch from behind, until I realized it was his tail that tore at my underclothes, drawing them down until the wind caught them and whisked them away. There was something so funny about it, of the thought of someone finding them snagged in the branch of a tree, that I forgot my fear of flying and laughed against him, the happiest I’d ever been.
The first thrust brought pain, the second release, and we joined as if we were one like the Goddess intended us to be. I wrapped my legs around him, forcing myself closer, forcing him deeper. Each thrust wrung a cry from me, no longer of pain, but of pleasure and desire.
His tail wrapped around me, teasing me, then dipped between us to explore between my legs until it touched that place where true pleasure was born. With the tip, he stroked me while his thrusts grew slow and desperate, each movement wringing a grunt from his trembling body.
With each caress of his tail, pleasure burned inside me like flames fanned into a great, all-consuming fire. When it left me, I reached for it, begging him not to stop, but his hand replaced it, all slow sweeps and pressure in just the right places until the heat low in my gut built to excruciating pleasure. There I teetered, muscles knotted and tensed, begging for release.
His tail uncoiled, retracted until it slid lovingly around my waist and down my back to caress my backside. It parted my cheeks, explored with ever-so-delicate sweeps and prods until it burst into me and I climaxed with a scream, wave after wave of ecstasy sweeping over my body.
I tightened around him and he came, his own body shuddering in time with mine.
We touched down so gently I thought we were still floating. With him still supporting me, we sagged to the ground. His wings enveloped me, protected me from the cold.
And in the whisper of wind and the faint blush of fading sunlight, he whispered, “I love you, Jessica. Will you marry me?”
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: graphic sex
Word count: 1,529
Summary: Eight and Jessica have sex on the wing.
Prompt: #12. Dragon Quest VIII, Eight/Jessica: Wingfic/Sex in high places - Dragon wings.
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm late posting this.
Touching Heaven
I remember the first time. Wings the color of rubies sprang from his back, a tail extended from the end of his spine. His slitted eyes glowed like jewels in the late afternoon sun. But, there he stopped, choosing to remain only half-Dragovian, in protest, I assumed, to the family that had cast him aside.
He took me in his arms and pulled me close, touched his lips to mine.
“I love you,” I said, but he looked away.
His skin was rough beneath my fingertips as I stroked his cheek, but still skin and not scales. I’d never understood why she discarded him for being different when he’d loved her even when she’d been cursed.
“Eight, look at me.” I understood how he felt. Once our quest ended, Angelo had left me as Medea had left him, alone and miserable. And, so we’d turned to one another until the uncontrolled shapeshifting began.
At first, he’d hidden for fear his other form would frighten me and then for fear he’d hurt me unaware. I knew they were all excuses for him to avoid the pain and heartache again, even when I assured him that none of it mattered to me and that I’d be with him always.
And so he’d come to me, of his own accord, at last. Now that he was able to control the shifting, he seemed more at peace with himself. But, he still hadn’t conquered his fears if he couldn’t even so much as look at me with those beautiful jeweled eyes.
“Take me with you,” I begged. He didn’t think I knew that he took to the heavens in dragon form, but I did and had watched him from afar, envious of his grace and his freedom as he slipped the trappings of Earth.
He kissed me again, so sweetly it brought tears to my eyes. Then his wings unfurled and he flapped once, propelling us into the sky. The wind whispered between us and around us, rustled our hair and stirred our clothes. In the chill of the air and the rush of excitement, I felt a blush of desire spread through my body and into my cheeks.
I knew he could feel my nipples hard against him as they pressed through the thin fabric of my blouse. He hardened against me in response. His wings beat the air again and we soared higher as my hands found their way into his pants.
I wanted him, more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. He was so kind, so vibrant, so alive. And, I wanted to live again, past Alistair’s death, past my possession by Rapthorne, past abandonment by Angelo.
His head dropped to my chest, his breath warm between my breasts. I shivered, more from arousal than the touch, or the cold of the air around us. He must have sensed it, might have smelled it on me in his half-dragon form, for he dipped his tongue into my cleavage, leaving a wet trail as he worked his way back up to my lips.
He looked past me and above me, his eyes alight in the failing sun. I followed his gaze, but barely saw it, a dark blur high above the highest clouds. We circled upwards, through misty wisps that dampened our skin and blocked out the care-filled world below.
It was a temple, carved so high near the top of the tallest peak that I wondered if eagles even dared to fly so high. But, Eight could and so, I assumed, had his Dragovian brethren, many years before. The temple was so old as to crumble, the ledge barely holding our weight when we touched down.
“I found it,” he said, leading me into the courtyard, “when I was learning to fly. It looks like it was abandoned...a long time ago.” He folded his wings across his back as we crossed to a series of buildings carved directly into the cavern wall.
Dust motes danced in the thin air, lit by an ethereal glow that rose from somewhere deep inside the ruins.
“What is it?” I asked in a whisper, afraid that speaking aloud would break the spell.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head; a smile crept across his face. “But, look at this...”
And, he dragged me until I followed, across the cracked and splintered stone to the base of a pair of towering double doors far too high off the ground for us to reach.
“Do you think...” I hesitated, torn between awe and fear. “Is it all right for you to bring me here? I’m not...” I felt an unexplainable twinge of regret that I wasn’t like Eight. Not that there was anything wrong with who I was, not because I wanted to be someone else, but more that I envied him the freedom the wings gave him and the richness of past that his heritage presented.
He kissed me, pressing my back against the metal doors, freeing my breasts from my blouse with trembling fingers. I gasped at the warmth of his touch. My nipples hardened again at the chilled breath of wind that whispered through the ancient ruins. He noticed and ran his tongue, with the hint of a fork, across one before latching onto the breast while he cradled it in both hands.
I shuddered as he dragged my breast deeper into the heat of his mouth, clutched at his arms, at his tunic, to keep my feet. It felt good, so good that I moaned, arching my back to push myself further into his mouth.
His teeth raked the nipple as his lips broke the latch with a slurp that sent chills of desire down my spine. I fingered my other breast while he watched, then his mouth joined in, taking each of my fingers inside before I pulled them away to allow him free access to the sensitive skin.
How long we languished there, lost in the pleasure of touching and being touched, I don’t know. But, a shifting of metal and a creak behind the great gates made us start, sent Eight back a step, dragging me with him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, and we ran toward the ledge from which we’d entered, hand in hand.
Intoxicated with the fear of being caught, we stumbled over the edge and it wasn’t until we hit free fall with the cold air stinging my skin that the fear turned to terror, and I clutched Eight in a death-grip. He smiled as he pulled me close, cradled me so he could get at my breasts still. And, between the thrill of his touch and the thought of falling, I couldn’t decide which made my heart pound faster.
At length he spread his wings, arched to catch the air, and we floated, drifting with the currents of wind. His mouth sought my lips while he freed himself from his pants. I pulled up my skirts in invitation, felt him hard and wet against my legs.
I screamed at the first touch from behind, until I realized it was his tail that tore at my underclothes, drawing them down until the wind caught them and whisked them away. There was something so funny about it, of the thought of someone finding them snagged in the branch of a tree, that I forgot my fear of flying and laughed against him, the happiest I’d ever been.
The first thrust brought pain, the second release, and we joined as if we were one like the Goddess intended us to be. I wrapped my legs around him, forcing myself closer, forcing him deeper. Each thrust wrung a cry from me, no longer of pain, but of pleasure and desire.
His tail wrapped around me, teasing me, then dipped between us to explore between my legs until it touched that place where true pleasure was born. With the tip, he stroked me while his thrusts grew slow and desperate, each movement wringing a grunt from his trembling body.
With each caress of his tail, pleasure burned inside me like flames fanned into a great, all-consuming fire. When it left me, I reached for it, begging him not to stop, but his hand replaced it, all slow sweeps and pressure in just the right places until the heat low in my gut built to excruciating pleasure. There I teetered, muscles knotted and tensed, begging for release.
His tail uncoiled, retracted until it slid lovingly around my waist and down my back to caress my backside. It parted my cheeks, explored with ever-so-delicate sweeps and prods until it burst into me and I climaxed with a scream, wave after wave of ecstasy sweeping over my body.
I tightened around him and he came, his own body shuddering in time with mine.
We touched down so gently I thought we were still floating. With him still supporting me, we sagged to the ground. His wings enveloped me, protected me from the cold.
And in the whisper of wind and the faint blush of fading sunlight, he whispered, “I love you, Jessica. Will you marry me?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-05 09:17 pm (UTC)And, sorry I'm late to respond to your comment...too much work, sickness, and real life in general. :)