Holler Me Home by The Norrington

Love Isn't Always Happy

She saw so much of what he was, and in anger, named him correctly.  With blood streaming from the gash across her brow, she closed her robe and turned from him.  She was so beautiful, standing there in the moonlight, and he felt his heart contract in revulsion at the blood on his claws.  Then she turned her face to him, and her hot stare made him hesitate.  

And when she spoke, it was with an icy sharpness that was unbecoming to her.

"You are a thorn to me.  You are disguised as a beautiful flower, with pistons that glimmer and a smell that entices, but in reality you are nothing but a thorn.  A thorn that stabs into my heart, and punctures it anew every time I am foolish enough to open myself to you.  And yet I will again, and why?  Because even though you are a thorn that draws my blood, I am still blinded by your petals."  

When his lips met her's in a heated embrace to silence the words that stabbed into him, her's opened with a plea.  A plea for him to not hurt her any more.  A plea to love her in return.  As he laid her on the bed and stripped her robe from her, and nestled himself possessively between her thighs, he was met with no resistance.  She spread her legs and let him enter her with a growl of pleasure, and when her moan echoed he was relieved.  

He met her plea with one of his own.  He pressed it into her skin with each kiss and into her body with each thrust. 

A plea for her to know that despite being a thorn, he loved her.  

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A/N:  I couldn't sleep, so here's one more.  This was from SunsetMiko's Once A Week Challenge, and the prompt was Thorn.

1/18/13