Winter's Kiss

by DS Williams

  Excited beyond the ability to articulate it, he was devolving into a much more primal state. He leaned down and kissed the first cut and then licked his lips. Her blood, like fire, burned his mouth and throat at first. Then the warmth flowed through his whole soul and he began to chuckle. Another cut, another mark, another trickle, another kiss. As he reached his hand to make the third stroke he could see the age spots fading already, the youthful strength of his hands returning. Another cut and another kiss, a lick and his flesh burned, his body began to transform, to grow backwards. Each cut, each kiss and he was younger. . .his vitality returning through the poetry. He finished the third line and felt his muscles achingly redefining themselves. Stronger, stronger, stronger, his body was burning with new life.

  He felt his face tightening, who he used to be returning over who he was. He kissed and licked her flesh, each kiss made her body tremble. He had never felt her tremble like this before. He began to work faster, cutting then strokes with more and more confidence. The blood smeared on her, on him. He was making her the perfect poem. She was to be the words. His forever beauty. His body was young and tight and powerful again. He panted as he worked, intent on carving it perfectly into her flesh. This stroke, and then a lick across the flesh. The soft, alabaster skin so cold to the touch and then the cut, warm, like fire in contrast. Each kanji a delicate sculpture of her flesh, love carved into her.

  His mind was racing and he began to laugh as he worked. His body no longer aching, no longer weak, no longer cold. The WuJen within was awake, he was alive, he was hungry. He began to chant as he worked, old words that had no real beginning nor end, they were part of some stream of thought that began when the world first came into existence. Now he spoke portions, parts, of fire and passions as he cut the last line of kanji into her. His mind focused like it had not been for many years, he chanted words she could not understand, meanings she would never grasp. His mind was fire, pure fire now, the WuJen was here.

  As he chanted she felt herself getting more and more aroused, mor and more thrilled by the sound of his voice. She did not know the words but she knew the voice, that voice of power and fire. She knew the WuJen so well. He cut her again, deeper now, she cried out and he licked her wound. He was laughing and she moaned. The hunger she felt from him was like a force in the room swirling around them pushing them together. Another cut, deeper, she moaned as the blade sliced her, as she felt her blood dripping and him lapping at it, taking her life into his body. As he spoke again, he spat the ancient words wetly and rubbed his hand over her flesh, it was now slick from her own blood. Then another cut and another and another and it was done. She collapsed forward, the flesh already knitting together, she felt her body healing even as he crouched over her and drank from her unreservedly and mercilessly.

  He stood over her and spoke the words again, the words he had created for her. He spoke them now and it was less a poem of love and more a poem of ownership, claiming, naming her as his. She looked up at him and he was young and beautiful, every inch of him strong and powerful and as young as he had been when they first met. Hair jet black, eyes burning green, skin taut, smooth and rippled over his muscles. His cock, harder than hard, bigger, bobbing up and down slightly as he spoke.

  “Skin like virgin snow,” He looked down at her and his skin began to darken in strips, wild slashes of darker tendrils of skin began to snake up the contours of his muscles. Starting at his cock, they seemed to grow and slither out from there up his body and down his legs.

  “Flesh chill to intimate touch,” The darkened marks forming into great tribal swirls of black that molded to his muscles and painted him with the design ancient fire. From head to toe his body became marked with these great fiery swirls, painting his flesh with fire older than mankind.

  “My Forever beauty,” Yes. . . his. The tribal swirls grew jet black and then seemingly deeper than black. Slowly the black yielded to tiny pin pricks of bright red that grew in number until the entire swirl began to smolder and then cracks of red spider webbed across the dark as though he was cracking apart. She watched in amazement as the fire on his flesh at first spat out tiny puffs of flame and then with a great rushing sound combusted and became actual fire. His flesh seeped fire from its pores, it burned freely, and the fire engulfed him in a flash of pure energy that coiled around him and shrouded him in flames.

  He was a WuJen fire master. He burned with a fire that helped to forge the world, that created the first stars, that gave even the dragons their fiery breath. He was that fire, that arcane power so much older than the oldest man, older than the world itself exploded out of him. He breathed deeply and embraced the flames and then smiled a wicked smile as he reached down and grabbed her. He lifted her to him as easily as a child lifts a doll. The fire seething all around him encompassed her without burning her. It swirled and grabbed her with tangible physical force. . .a living thing, it too embraced her. She moaned as she felt the warmth of it penetrating her form, her flesh. The poem began to burn, every cut searing in pain as the fire licked blood from her as well, turning it into pure flame and branding the words into her flesh. His forever beauty.

  Her fangs came out and she growled a feral sound. Her instincts told her to kiss him, to take him, to devour him to the last drop. To drink his very soul into her and consume all that he is. That is what her very core of being told her to do but she did not, could not. As much as she craved to devour him she also craved his touch, the passion. The fire cascade over her flesh like waves and then her hair was grabbed. It was not the fire but his hand that took her hair and pulled her face to face with him. For a moment she worried he would kiss her and seal his own doom but instead he pulled her head to the side and bit her neck harshly, teeth clamping tightly to her flesh, his growl vibrating through the toothy embrace. Unable to hold herself back any more she returned the bite but hers, much deeper. Her fangs sank into his hard neck muscles and he shuddered at the initial pain. Then as she drank he bit harder, his hands grabbing at her body, her ass, fingers spreading her wide open and lifting her up. As she sucked down the blood it was pure fire to her flesh as well. The flames running through her veins now and warming her flesh, her cold, cold flesh warm and alive again. Every sensation now a hundred times more as she thawed to the flames and her senses spun at the overwhelming burst of life.

  As she broke the bite and savored the last in her mouth, fire licked from her mouth, the blood was literally fire inside her now. Then she felt his cockhead pressing against her lips, slowly sliding into her. In one long powerful thrust he impaled her on his cock. She let go of his shoulders and he let her sink back, holding her hips, his powerful muscles keeping her up, the flames cradling her body so that she hung from his cock. With fire and flesh he began to slide her up and down the length of his shaft, all the way up until just the head was in her and then down, hard and deep until she was full of him. The flames circled around her, held her in place as she slid up and down progressively faster and faster. The fire crackling with excitement as he began to slam her down hard. Each thrust making her cry out, fire and cock stuffed full into her.

  Her hair hung free and seemed to writhe and float in the air. Each thrust sending it sweeping around and then each rise bringing it back to cover her face. Thrust after brutal thrust, the fire began to squeeze her flesh tighter, the excitement growing, the power growing. It ran over her flesh, it burned at her nipples like mouths of heat, it licked at her clit with eager hunger. Faster and faster they fucked and more and more uncontrolled the fire grew. Another thrust and the fire bit at her flesh, clawed at her. His eyes grew black as the fire took control and he threw his head back and bellowed out a primal cry. She only then realized she was answering it, her own voice seemingly lost into the roar of the growing fire. The passion uncontrolled now, was slamming her down so hard onto his cock that if she had breathed, she would not have been able to catch her breath. His fingers dug into her ass cheeks so hard she cried out in pain but the noise was lost in the f
lames.

  He/the fire suddenly pulled her to him, against his chest and then formed a vortex of pure flame like a cocoon around them. They were pressed together even as she was lifted and then dropped down onto his cock again and again. The fire seemed to penetrate her skin, seemed to slide through her and she was nothing but pure fire. Again and again she was lifted and then slammed back down his cock of fire. She screamed as she felt her body finally releasing. . .the sensation of an inner fire matching that of the flames shrouding her. She cried out and thrashed her head back and forth. The flames grabbed her hair and pushed her face to his chest and as she felt an orgasm ripping through her body she bit. She drank of him through her own screams. The fire searing and burning her mouth as she shook and cried out.

  Then he growled and cried out a bestial cry and slammed her down hard onto his cock. The movement so powerful it dislodged her from drinking. Then again he lifte3d her up and impossible distance and slammed her down onto his cock again. She was looking in his eyes as they blazed red now, pure fire. Again up and then again down harder until she felt she would split in two. Up again and harder, she screamed and came again from the pain. Up again and then, staring at her, sneering, growling, teeth gnashing, down one last time, harder than before and he exploded. Fire geysered into her aching cunt. She was pumped full of a fire that forged worlds and stars, more and more pumped into her as he threw his head back and bellowed in triumph. Then the fire receded and they both collapsed onto the pile of furs on the sleeping bed, he was panting and out of breath. She was stunned by the swirl of sensations her newly warm flesh pounded her mind with. They lay tangled into a pile as each was lost momentarily in sensations too powerful to fight. The room seemed to spin for both of them as the fire slowly calmed within his flesh and he was once more mortal. They grabbed furs and covered each other, staying tangled, flesh against warm flesh.

  The fiery passion receded and was replaced by a need to touch and be touched. They caressed silently, enjoying the feel of the other. His face pressed into her neck, he fought the need to kiss her. He knew it was death but everything inside him told him to do it, just one kiss. Instead he kissed her flesh, he touched, he drank in the smell of her and felt her warm flesh. She smiled for the first time in a long time. She felt content, warm . . . she felt happy and that was not a feeling she was used to. Forever is such a long time and moments are hard to hang on to. She pushed out thoughts and just was there in the moment. She just felt his hands on her and touched his flesh in return and was happy for this moment.

  Within a few minutes his flesh was starting to age again, wrinkle and become papery once again. She could feel the strength leaving him. She could feel the age returning. She stroked his hair and nuzzled against his neck as she felt him silently sob in her embrace. It was coming back so quickly now. Not even the blood of a vampire could keep time back for long at his age. He was losing his vitality, his youth in her arms and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She whispered soothing things to him and held him close as he once more became an old man.

  Finally he whispered to her. “It used to last longer.” He sighed.

  “Yes.” She stroked his hair.

  “Now. . .”

  “Shhhhhh. . .”

  “It won’t be long. . .” he stopped. Even the mighty WuJen feared his own demise.

  “Hush. . .”

  “I almost kissed you.” He said.

  “I know old man, you’re stupid that way.” She chided him. He chuckled. His laugh though drifted slightly as exhaustion began to overtake him.

  “One day though. . .” he let the words fade.

  “Yes.” She answered.

  “I would so like to kiss you once.” He said in a very tired voice.

  “You will. I promise.” She knew that if she had been able to, she would have cried right then at the thought of that kiss.

  “Before it is too late.” He stated.

  “Yes. One night I will come back when you are sleeping and I will whisper your name and we will kiss. I promise you.” She held him close and wished that she could, just for a moment, cry. She felt the need, the desire, the hunger to cry just one tear but this was not her fate. No more tears for her.

  “My name?” He asked with a sleepy chuckle.

  “Yes.”

  “You remember my name. . . “ his voice drifted off and he was asleep.

  She silently slipped out from the tangle of flesh and lovingly covered him with the furs to keep him warm. She placed more wood on the fire to keep it going all night. Then she placed her own robes on without making a noise. She grinned as she felt the cloth rub over the newly branded flesh of her back. She bowed her head and looked back at him in adoration stopping to brush his hair once more with her finger tips and rising to go…she turned to go but looked back at him lying there sleeping one last time.

  “Yes old man. . . .I have always remembered your name and I always will.” She smiled a melancholy smile and slipped silently back into the cold of night leaving him alone in his bed.

  His name she would never forget.

  She would remember him forever.

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  Also By DS Williams

  Winter's Kiss