Re: Spoil of War, book 2

Date: 2006-02-28 01:36 am (UTC)
These feelings, these cravings; he’d felt them before, and he knew what came next; the inexorable conclusion, the ultimate betrayal of his own body. His wanton flesh reacted the same, whether it was Heero’s loving hands or his rapist’s brutal cock. What was the difference? What was the difference?

He trembled on the edge of release, hanging on with all his desperate strength, unable to breathe, unable to see. He was drowning in a pleasure, a pressure so intense that any moment now it would flash over into pain. What was the difference?

A motion dimly registered; a sound broke through the fog, reaching him just enough that he could open his eyes. His vision focused on blue, the beautiful blue of Heero’s eyes, and was filled with a wave of self-loathing. What kind of disgusting creature was he, to use Heero for his own sexual gratification like this? He was no better, and now Heero saw, and now Heero knew...

But Heero looked down at him with such a soft, such a tender expression, and one hand was cradling his cheek so gently. “Let go, love,” Heero coaxed him. “For me. I love you. Let go.”

Love.

Not hate.

Given.

Not taken.

That was all the difference.

A despairing sob broke from him, in the instant before he surrendered to his climax.

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windandwater

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