Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Mine. ❯ Violated. ( Chapter 11 )

Warnings: Lemon - specifically, rimming. If you don't know what rimming is, it's not my fault if you read it. At any rate, -.-.-.-will mark the beginning and end of the rimming, since I know some people (especially Val ::grins::) don't like it. Irvine really likes it… in RP and in my fics. Umm… there may be language - not sure - yaoi and all the other things you ought to expect from this fic by now, if you're still reading.

 

Pairings: …

 

Disclaimer: I own nothing but names and personalities of chocobos and gayla. Also any random natives that appear who are obviously not styled off characters from the game. It's pretty easy to pick those… Heh.

 

Author's Notes: I'm so slack with updating this fic. ::cries:: I'm so sorry. I don't have much of an excuse except that I keep forgetting. Also, I'm getting closer to the end of what I've written, and I'm not writing enough pages between updates to make up for the eight-or-so that get posted. So the gap between the end of each chapter and the end of what I've written is getting smaller. >_<

 

Ah, yes! For those of you who would like to know/read, Eoko, Val and I now have a webpage for our RP's. Here is the URL: http://www.geocities.com/eoko_dincht/ValEoKitty_Welcome.html Please do go and have a look around. There is a lot of sex. ;)

 

Oh! In other news, I spent three hours this morning trying to find a suitable picture for my Xanga. It is damn near impossible to find a good and sexy picture of one Irvine Kinneas or Irvine Kinneas with Zell (those are even more impossible). Therefore, I am putting out a call for pictures of the cowboy either by himself or with Zell. Those sent to me will earn the right to a yaoi fanfiction, pairing and, if you so desire, plot of your choice! Send to istaqa@hotmail.com and you will be loved forever! You will also get a healthy dose of smut.

 

/Native speak./

 

UBER APPOLOGIES!!!!! To MediaMiner readers! I have no idea why, but for some reason, this chappy didn't get uploaded here when it got done everywhere else! Gomen! I'm sorry! It's been a long wait for you guys! Well, at least you get two chapters at once right? Right?! Eeeeep! Sooooorrrrryyyyy! *bows down in apology*

 

Mine. - KittyMeowMaxwell.

 

Chapter Eleven - Violated.

 

Seifer was awake the moment the sun broke through the canopy to light the forest. He flicked a spider out of his hair and rubbed at his face, sighing in agitation. He knew he owed Squall an apology from the night before.

 

He prepared their breakfast and Squall stirred as the cooking smells tickled his nose. One storm cloud eye slit open to glare at him.

 

“The sun better damnwell be up…” he said warningly.

 

“It is. It woke me.” There was a long silence in which Squall reached under his bedding, pulled out a rock, and chucked it into the trees. “Squall… Listen, I-”

 

“Forget it, Sheriff. I understand. Now, give me breakfast.”

 

Seifer chuckled.

 

They were on their way in little time, the chocobos in high spirits after a night's rest and grazing. But there were still so many trails and no way of telling which was the real one. If they found no true path at the end of this day, they both knew they would have to return home empty handed, and with the death of one man on their consciences.

 

“You don't suppose he's already killed him, do you?” Squall wondered into the early-morning hush as they rode side-by-side along a chosen trail.

 

Seifer shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, then rested it on his thigh, fingers drumming there in thought.

 

“You said yourself this savage seems to consider Irvine his property, and not as a slave. Why kill him if he wanted to…” Seifer trailed off. “Why kill him? It wouldn't make sense. Besides, the way he told me Irvine was his property sure didn't suggest any intent to kill him.”

 

Squall shifted uneasily in his saddle, glancing around them and giving a tug on the reins when Dot craned her head and started to head after a brightly coloured butterfly.

 

“You know he won't go so easy next time.”

 

“That was easy?” Seifer brandished his thumb, from which they'd removed the splint now, but which was still strapped for support.

 

“He could have killed you. He didn't. That was because there was no need. As far as he's concerned, he beat you. That means you're supposed to leave it alone. He catches you after his property again, he's got every right to kill you, and he will.”

 

“Not this time. I won't underestimate him again. I thought I had the upper hand just because he was the one with the pistol at his skull. I didn't know he'd move that fast. I know now.”

 

Squall shook his head and sighed. Not that it matters, he mused. I don't think we'll ever find them…

 

- - - - - - -

 

Zell stirred to find they had moved apart during the night and when he propped himself up on one elbow he saw that his cowboy was laid flat out on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms. A slight smile curved Irvine's lips. A smirk tugged at Zell's and he gently slipped the snow-lion pelt down and out of the way to reveal the gentle curve of his taken's spine, lifting deliciously into the more rounded curve of his arse and flowing into those long, elegant legs. His mind slipped back to how they'd wrapped around him, flexed with the movements of their sweat-slick bodies.

 

Irvine murmured in his sleep and tried to burrow into the furs beneath him, goosebumps rising on his velvet skin.

 

Ai, how elegant he was… How beautiful and perfect and - Zell grinned - his. Ah, yes. His. Now he knew Irvine wouldn't turn on him, and would likely do anything for him. The cowboy would hunger for him at all times. It was time to go back to the native's peoples, and claim his taken properly, Mark him.

 

But first, to take him again. Ahh, yes…

 

Zell's tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he reached out, smoothing his fingers through the waves of auburn silk hair, then running the hand down the cowboy's spine and stroking it over his arse.

 

Irvine shifted, hips reflexively lifting to the touch and Zell's fangs showed in a predatory grin. The cowboy already knew his touch. He didn't yet wake, fighting it even as his body longed for wakefulness in order to respond properly.

 

Zell dipped his fingers close to Irvine entrance, but didn't linger, running his hand down an inner-thigh and grinning delightedly when the cowboy parted his legs.

 

“/Wake up, Irvine…/” Zell purred, leaning over his taken to put his mouth close to his ear.

 

Irvine made a little mewling sound, face losing its relaxed, sleepy state and Zell smirked, lapping just below the cowboy's ear. Another sound escaped Irvine's lips and the native brought a finger to his mouth, wetting it thoroughly, then bringing it down to touch at his taken's entrance before dipping gently inside.

 

- - - - - - -

 

Irvine woke to Zell's mouth at his ear and he murmured wordless good mornings, then whimpered when the native's finger slipped within him. He woke completely at that and bit his lower lip, burying his face in his arms and giving another, more urgent whimper.

 

“/Sore?/” Zell wondered softly, rubbing the curve of Irvine's arse with a thumb.

 

“Mmn…” he agreed, now chewing on his lower lip.

 

“/Alright,/” Zell murmured and took his finger away.

 

Irvine smiled and looked up at Zell, who smiled back and kissed him gently, then gave a smirk of devilish intent and shifted downward.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

“Zell…?” the cowboy wondered warily, but he received no answer. Instead, Zell's hands came to his arse, ever so gently parting the cheeks and Irvine's eyes widened. “/No, Zell, I ca-” His words cut off in a soft, surprised cry as warmth entered him, slick and oh so good. It left again and he could hear the smirk in his taker's voice when he spoke.

 

“/You like that?/”

 

“/Yes… good. Please…/” And he lifted his hips just a touch, silent asking to go with the vocalization. He had no inhibitions left.

 

That warm, arrogant chuckle slid down the length of his spine and the pleasure returned, making him shiver. It took a long few heartbeats of sensation infusing his body before he realised it was Zell's tongue working so knowingly inside of him. Then, it didn't matter, because it just blurred into warmth and pleasure.

 

Irvine moaned from the back of his throat, squirming helplessly. He struggled a long moment, then finally drew his knees up beneath him, freeing his growing arousal from the pain of being trapped between the furs and his body. Zell rode the movement easily, one hand stretching out to support his weight at the level of Irvine's knees.

 

“Zell…” the cowboy whispered, and it came to his own ears as a needy, pleased thing. “Oh, Zell…”

 

He felt the flex of a powerful muscle against his flank, Zell's hand fisting in the furs by his knee, and knew with a fierce pride that he affected the native. The knowledge only lasted a split second before he moaned again, hips bucking in response to the plunge of Zell's tongue. Indeed, it demanded a response, and he was powerless to deny it. He gripped at the furs, nuzzling his own arms and again he moaned, long and low.

 

“/Please… Zell… I need…/” he whispered, then whimpered wordlessly, arching a little.

 

Oh! It felt so good. Granted, not so good as having Zell inside of him - it was a close second. But he did need. He needed the native's touch, his hand around his arousal to take the aching want and make it more.

 

“/What?/” Zell paused only long enough to purr the word in a way that pooled in Irvine's belly before his tongue returned to its exquisite torture.

 

“/T-touch me! I c-can't… I need… want… p-please… please!/”

 

“/No,/” Zell said with a laugh and Irvine cried out desperately as the tongue dipped again, merciless, mercifully hot and slick and-

 

“Aaah! Zell!”

 

The cry was high, keening and his fingers worked and grasped at the fur. He whimpered and moaned, hoping to gain Zell's pity, but his taker gave him none, only more of the delicious sensation that just wasn't enough!

 

He could stand it no longer. One arm unfolded and he lifted his hips just a little more so he could reach down, fingers wrapping around his own arousal and beginning a steady rhythm. He expected a reprimand for taking things out of Zell's control, but gained a growl of approval instead, and realised it must have been what the native wanted him to do.

 

A shudder coursed through him and he tensed, feeling the first wash of release breaking over him. Oh, he didn't want it to end… It was so good and warm and sensual…

 

“/Ah, yes…/” he whispered and heard an answering groan from the native. (1) “/Yes! Ah-ah-ah… Zell!/” The last was a stretched out moan of his taker's name, riding the back of the release that crashed through him, leaving him trembling and whimpering.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

“/Hmm… good. So pretty, my cowboy,/” Zell purred as though he were even responsible for the way the cowboy had been born. He helped Irvine stretch out his legs and shift onto his side, and when the native settled beside him, drawing him close, Irvine frowned slightly. Languid and satiated as he was, he could still feel the press of an unheeded arousal at his stomach.

 

“/Zell… you…/” he murmured, but the native pressed two fingers to Irvine's lips.

 

“/I'm fine. You matter more. You're satisfied, then so am I./”

 

“/It's not fair,/” Irvine replied, blinking owlishly. “/I want to help./”

 

In light of Zell's very recent act, how could he not? There was as much enjoyment to be had in giving pleasure as receiving it, he knew, and he had never let a partner go away unfulfilled. He wasn't about to start now.

 

He urged Zell to lay on his back, thrilled at the prospect of yet again holding the man under his own brand of power. He kissed a tender, worshipful path down twitching, powerful muscles, beginning at the hollow of the native's throat and working his way down the center of the broad chest. His tongue and lips meandered along the curve of a pectoral muscle, glancing briefly over a nipple in a way that only made Zell hiss needily at him. He smirked and continued downward, eventually following the general in-sweep of his taker's abdomen to his navel where he teased and played, knowing precisely what he was doing to the man beneath him.

 

- - - - - - -

 

So, his taken was already teasing him. Zell couldn't find it in him to disapprove, it was too good. He let his breathing hitch, let a low moan quaver from his throat when Irvine's hand stroked up the inside of his thigh. The cowboy deserved to know he was doing everything right, and nothing wrong.

 

…Aside from the persistent teasing!

 

Ai! Again and again his taken drifted lower, lips and teeth and tongue promising, promising… But he didn't deliver, returning to lick and suckle at his navel, fingers ghosting over arousal or nipple, thigh or abdomen.

 

“Irvine!” he demanded, a low growl that no taken had yet ignored.

The cowboy paused, two patches of brilliant sky looking up the length of his body, veiled by perfect copper-gold lashes and framed by waves of the same coloured silk. He took Zell's breath away, and fierce pride and possessiveness swamped him again, so that he almost forgot what he'd been meaning to say.

 

“/Yes?/” Irvine prompted, smirking. Zell couldn't decide if it was unbelievably sexy or unbelievably annoying.

 

“/Enough. Enough teasing./”

 

He ducked his head, eyes falling shut and made a great production of stroking his tongue too slowly across Zell's tip in a manner no trembling virgin taken should take. He was no longer a trembling virgin, this was true, but one taste, and all his doubts were cast aside. Zell knew he had chosen well - Irvine was a sexual being, and the native had been sure he would open up soon enough when he realised what it could give him. Of course, he had been right, this was expected, but the speed with which his taken was learning, teaching himself, floored Zell.

 

So did that slow, elaborate lick. His eyes rolled back, his head turned aside and he groaned. Irvine chuckled and took the native into his mouth, attempting to match the deep, all-encompassing pleasure he'd been given the night before. When his automatic responses kicked in and he drew away, looking disappointed, Zell had to laugh lowly.

 

“/You will learn. Don't rush it. I-/” He cut off in favour of a long moan as Irvine returned to safer ground, taking the head between his lips and working his mouth around that while his hand curled around Zell's length and stroked a perfect rhythm in time with the movements of his mouth.

 

The native couldn't control a buck of his hips, but it didn't phase Irvine, and it wasn't long before he was thrashing on the furs, crying the talents of his taken to the heavens.

 

“/Ai! Irvine! Don't… stop. Don't stop!/” he begged, and the cowboy gave an appreciative hum, which only served to send him more wild.

 

- - - - - - -

 

He wouldn't dare. Zell's utter loss of control was intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or rancher's pipe weed could compare, and he was addicted to everything the native was. To being taken, to being tasted, to being claimed, to driving him to complete mindlessness with tongue and lips and teeth and fingers.

 

He was more beautiful than the most beautiful women Irvine had ever lifted the skirts of, in so many different ways. He satisfied something the cowboy hadn't known needed satisfying, but now that he knew, there was nothing else that would offer that satisfaction.

 

When the native gave in, when his body tensed and his hips bucked and his fingers clenched at the furs with a strength that could kill Irvine in a heartbeat, the cowboy took everything he had to offer. And he liked the taste, lapped every bead away.

 

Zell drew him up by way of a hand in his hair and at his shoulder and kissed him in that all-consuming, tasting way. He submitted to it, melting under the assault and molding himself to the body he was getting more and more familiar with.

 

“/You taste like sex…/” came a low, sexy purr.

 

He did blush a little, but he smiled, licking his lips.

 

“/Oh, so did you…/” he purred back, the smile turning suggestive.

 

“/Ah! I think I'm losing the innocent cowboy I took from the woman!/”

 

“/Is that a bad thing?/”

 

“/Oh, I think not./” He smirked and Irvine liked the way he flashed his fangs.

 

“/It's good,/” he ventured, pleased with himself and his taker.

 

“/Very good. Tomorrow, we start for my home. It won't take long to get there./”

 

- - - - - - -

 

He felt Irvine tense in his arms, swallowing, and he ran a soothing hand down his back.

 

“/Is that a good idea?/” the cowboy wondered.

 

Zell had wondered that himself, but would not let Irvine see him uncertain. But he was certain he wanted to Mark his taken, and that could only be done with his people. So all uncertainty had to be ignored, and he would do it. He would do anything for the cowboy.

 

“/I won't let them hurt you. The HeartSeer will be persuaded and none will have the right to challenge my claim. You'll have my Mark./”

 

“/You think you can own me…?/”

 

“/Yes./” The answer was calm, flat and would brook no argument. It was a certainty, and Zell already knew it. Irvine ought to as well.

 

“/You stole me…/”

 

Zell shrugged, unconcerned. Irvine belonged to him, it wasn't stealing. It was taking what was rightfully his.

 

“/Now, you understand yourself. You understand me./”

 

Irvine was silent for a long while, then he spoke softly.

 

“/I… want… I want your mark…/”

 

“/I know,/” Zell replied, drawing his cowboy closer. He nosed at the bite mark he'd already given Irvine, impermanent, but a mark nevertheless. He touched Irvine's hair, lifted the feather bound there and smiled gently.

 

“/You're confidant of yourself,/” Irvine said dryly.

 

“/I am never wrong,/” he said simply, matter-of-factly.

 

His taken just chuckled and shook his head a little, preoccupied with tracing the lines of his muscles with elegant fingertips. The native pressed a possessive kiss to his mouth, and purred his approval when then was no fight.

 

- - - - - - -

 

It was a few days travel from there and Zell taught Irvine ways of pleasure he hadn't even imagined before. His taker seemed to delight in making him exclaim in disbelief or surprise. Indeed, he wasn't complaining about it himself.

 

Never before had Irvine been treated the way Zell treated him. He could remember treating women in a way akin to it but still not the same and certainly he had experienced nothing like it before. He wasn't the native's equal, that was a given. He was expected to do what he was told when he was told without question, as servant to master. But he was no servant. It was almost as though he were made of glass, or as though he were a deity, so thoroughly did Zell take care of him and worship him. I tell you to do these things, but only to make your life better. This seemed to be the silent belief the native held, even if `making his life better' referred to making Zell's life better in order that he could better please Irvine.

 

And please him, Zell did, and often. None of his treatment was at all distasteful.

 

As they traveled, his taker taught him how to use a bow and arrow, and they soon realised the cowboy was a natural. His aim was rarely off, due mostly he surmised, to his pin-point accuracy with a shotgun. The bow that became an almost permanent fixture across Whipcrack's shoulders almost made up for his missing gun.

 

At roughly noon on the third day of traveling, Zell stopped them and indicated that Irvine should be silent and remain where he was. By now, it came naturally for the cowboy to just obey, so he lifted his leg, rested his ankle on Whipcrack's neck and his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand and watched Zell go. He left Shir'nis behind, but took Jirrah with him. Irvine still marveled at how silently and swiftly the native disappeared.

 

He was happily lost in a daydream when he suddenly found himself dragged unceremoniously from his chocobo's back and forced to his knees. His instinct was to throw his weight forward and try and break the hold, but a Belhelmel blade knife like Zell's pressed to his throat was all the encouragement he needed to stay still.

 

“/Well, what have we here…?/” a soft voice wondered and a dark-skinned native came into his line of sight. He crouched before Irvine, hands hanging between his thighs as he balanced on his toes. He cocked his head and flashed a grin, three green feathers rattling in his hair.

 

“/Zell's new taken?/” guessed a voice behind him, presumably belonging to whoever held the knife. The blade pressed closer when Irvine shifted a little. “/The one Kiros spoke of./”

 

The native in front of him nodded thoughtfully.

 

“/Not a bad sight to come across after a day's hunting…/” he mused. “/Not especially to my tastes, but pretty nevertheless./” And he reached forward, cupping Irvine's jaw to turn his face and inspect the elegant lines of his features. The cowboy endured barely a heartbeat before he pulled away, showing his teeth as he'd seen Zell do. He knew the gesture didn't carry any of the weight it did coming from his taker.

 

“/No manners, Ti. He pulls away like a trembling virgin,/” commented the knife-wielder as the native Irvine figured must be Ti showed his teeth back, with all the weight the cowboy lacked.

 

“/A virgin would know his place. Ah, but it is so typical of Zell to have gone easy on him. Training, I imagine, would not be his strong point./”

 

This time when Ti's hand came at him, the knife bit deeper, daring him to even try and move. He trembled, far more in anger than fear, as the hand slid up his thigh. Mine, Zell's voice said in his head, and everything in him clamoured that this man had no right to touch him. Mine. My taken. My cowboy. Mine. He gritted his teeth and refused to react.

 

“/You're going to train him now…?/” laughed the other native.

 

“/I certainly didn't fail with you, now did I Nirrin?/”

 

Nirrin chuckled and stepped closer behind Irvine, legs pressing against his back to hold him still as Ti moved forward, hand inching higher, under the loincloth.

 

Mine!

 

“/No…/” Irvine hissed, then louder; “/No!/”

 

Shir'nis sensed his tone and she warked loudly, Whipcrack following her lead. Ti seemed astounded that Irvine knew a word in their language, and Nirrin flinched at the birds, drawing blood.

 

- - - - - - -

 

(1) From the moment of waking to… well… a while after it, the fic was hand-written, because I'd got impatient and wanted to write the waking-after-sex scene. I have a thing for waking up scenes… Anyway, in the handwritten version, habit took over and I'd written “the fighter” instead of “the native”. I noticed it while I was still typing “he whispered”, because I'm usually reading a few words ahead, and it made me chuckle. Then when I got to it… I typed “fighter” anyway. My excuse is that I'm tired and worn out from uni and re-enrolment… fucking re-enrolment…

 

- - - - - - -

 

Author's Notes: …Is that a cliffhanger?! Who put that there?! ::smirk::