Let It Go

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Out Of Time (unwritten)

PAIRING: Luther Broderick/Psyche Cooper (M/F)

EXPLANATION: It just HAD to happen, eventually... See "Bad Ending" for some backstory here. Basically, for some reason Psyche shot and possibly killed Luther at the end of one of my unwritten novels. In the sequel, Out Of Time (yes, named after the REM album--I had "Losing My Religion" picked as a themesong and all), Alicia brings Luther back to life...and Psyche, for some reason (so I haven't worked out the kinks yet!--give me a break!), pretends to join the Scorpio cult. Thoroughly expecting Luther to hate her guts, she's thus surprised to learn that, rather than being ANGRY about her shooting him, he's IMPRESSED by her and wants to take her as his...favorite!! Dum-dum-dummmm! This includes undergoing "the Acceptance"...a sex ritual meant to initiate female members fully into the cult. Psyche...well, let's just say she's not really jazzed by this idea. However, Luther has this way with people...and the following scene ensues. In here you'll find a precursor to the "Messed Up With Me" scenes, as, even though Luther does not physically hurt her, he DOES intimidate her, and Psyche just gets off on that fear...which is probably best, considering! (Alicia, on the other hand, is NOT happy.)

DISCLAIMERS: This piece is very tame compared to later works as it's so old. Beware POV problems. I also doubt that Luther would just fall asleep on the ACCEPTANCE ALTAR of all places! Gah!

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Let It Go

He gave her a faint but magnetic smile, half shrouded in shadows. "You can even join us."

Her voice was fainter even than his smile. "I don't want to join you."

She knew it was a foolish, even suicidal thing to say, especially to him; yet his smile only grew deeper. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes, feeling as if she were slowly being hypnotized. "I never said you had to," she dimly heard him say; then he came forward and tipped her head upwards.

A dull fear was rising in her chest. Yet she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Luther brought his head down and kissed her. The fear rose but it wasn't what she'd expected at all; his kiss, at least, while being passionate, was also surprisingly gentle, as was his hold on her neck. She felt herself trembling slightly; the fear wouldn't go away, nor would the flutter in her heart, whose source was something else altogether. He had a hold over her--totally, completely. She couldn't break free no matter how hard she tried.

His hand moved to her upper back; she could feel him steering her across the floor, to the long altar-like stand nearby. The fear rose up into her throat, begging to be let loose; yet still her voice and her muscles wouldn't obey. It was as if her mind were growing hazy; his kiss continued, and she suddenly felt the edge of the stand against her back. He'd obviously meant what he'd said; her shoulders started shaking. Her throat and chest felt tight; it was difficult to breathe.

He reached under her shirt, his hands running up her sides and to her back; she was dimly surprised that he didn't yet touch her breasts. Then they went down to her waist; he pulled down her pants, letting them drop to the floor. The whole time he never stopped kissing her. He started to undo his own pants; Psyche's shoulders shook harder. He fully intended on going through with it, and though half of her mind told her it was wrong, there was nothing she could do. Yet standing--against the edge of the stand like that--the terror that she was feeling nearly overrode that other emotion.

As if sensing her discomfort about the position, he put his hand on her back again, his mouth still exploring hers. He placed his other arm under her legs and lifted her up to sit on the stand. He climbed up himself--then he laid her down so she was flat on her back, her legs still slightly drawn up. He was between them, above her, kissing her; he undid the top of the robe he wore, letting it fall open, falling over both of them like a blanket. He undid her shirt, pulling it off of her arms. He slipped his fingers under her bra, pulling it off as well; he finally broke the kiss, and she could hear the increase in his breathing. His hands ran over her breasts, squeezing them once. She jerked and gasped. He bent down to kiss her again; when she opened her eyes slightly to look down, she could again see him undoing his pants. He was breathing heavily now; her own breath was coming fast, from mixed fear and desire. Their holds on each other were so strong that already they were panting in anticipation, when apart from the kiss and her breasts he'd barely touched her.

She felt a tightness down inside her, and it only increased her fear. She'd never been with anyone before, and to have it happen this way--well, it also wasn't what she'd expected. Her trembling refused to stop.

He pulled down his pants, kicking them off. They landed on the floor. He removed her underwear, over her raised knees; his robe kept them shadowed as he took off his own. He ran his hands up and down her thighs; her heart thudded wildly in her chest. He spread her legs wider, lowering his body between them. Psyche felt her whole body thrumming like a live wire. Luther placed a hand on her thigh and brought himself down and forward, penetrating her.

She gasped and flinched at the sharp pain that stabbed through her middle. Luther, for his part, started as if with surprise; he quit kissing her briefly to look down at her, his eyes narrowing and a grin creeping up his face.

"You didn't warn me about that," he said simply, and kissed her neck. She whimpered softly, feeling the blood; he pulled out slightly, and pushed back in. She flinched again; but the pain was already departing, replaced by a hot, pulsing feeling. He pulled out, his hands caressing her sides, and then started to move slowly, in and out, thrusting. She finally found the strength to moan, fear and desire mixing in her voice; he covered her mouth with his, his tongue probing inside, tasting hers. She could feel his buttock muscles against her elevated thighs, contracting and releasing as he thrust inside her. Unconsciously she started to move her hips, very slowly back and forth; her thighs tightened against his moving body, pressing on his hips. She still fought with herself to resist him, yet her body itself had a mind of its own. Her chest shuddered.

"Give in to it, Psyche," Luther whispered, his breath heavy. "Let it go."

No! the voice in the back of her mind shrieked. But all that she could do was whimper. He laughed under his breath. Her hands betrayed her; they clutched at his back. Her hips betrayed her; they rocked back and forth with his thrusts. Her legs betrayed her; they twined around his, rubbing, tangling. Another moan, this one half of despair, arose from her throat. He only laughed again.

"You know this is what you wanted. I've wanted this for a long time."

It was a struggle for him to even speak. So he quit and instead concentrated on moving back and forth. Psyche was tight inside; he could feel her fear, tight around him, but she never struggled. She was, even, beginning to gasp. He was hard and engorged inside her; her thighs still quivered against his. Her hands clutched desperately at his back as he lowered and raised himself; the deeper he went the more she began to move, squirming, tossing her head from side to side and moaning. He began thrusting faster, panting.

She sucked in her breath and arched, her breasts touching him. The moan in her throat twisted itself to form one word: "Nooooo..."

"It's too late for that," he whispered back, kissing her. She responded by taking hold of his face, exploring his mouth; she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hips moving with his. He ran his hands over her thighs again; her grip around him tightened and she gasped sharply, writhing. Her muscles were squeezing against his, pushing; he sensed the desperate urgency in her cries and, holding her hips for support, started thrusting quickly, harder; she began crying out in time with his strokes. He was gasping for breath now; instead of turning red as it always had before, his vision grew clearer; he could see the sweat on Psyche's face, the white of her teeth as they clenched shut, the arch of her neck when she threw her head back. He was anticipating it this time, quite unlike with Alicia, when he nearly hadn't come at all; he could feel himself getting hotter, his own muscles tightening. He clenched his teeth as well, grasping her hips tightly, pushing, straining; she began to let out a long, thin cry as he rocked, thrusting frantically inside, the tension building, growing tighter, hotter--

He jerked and his muscles locked as he thrust inward; his hips pressed hers to the stand as he felt himself stiffen and go into her. He gave a strangled gasp. Psyche screamed; her hips pumped up and down, pushing him up with her. Finally the pumping motion stopped and she stayed suspended in the air, arched into him, until he'd exhausted himself; then, slowly, she sank back to the stand, letting out her breath. Her thigh muscles loosened; she disentangled her legs from his and collapsed. It was all that he could do not to collapse on top of her as well; placing his hands on her thighs, his chest heaving, he pulled himself out and rolled onto his back, gasping at the air. After a long while had passed he supported himself on his elbow to look at her. She'd sunk into a deep, exhausted sleep. Draping the edge of his robe over her bare body, he put down his head and shut his eyes, also attempting to rest.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.