Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Reason ❯ Desperate to Touch ( Chapter 1 )

She sighed as she continued to remove her dress. This was an important night for her; yet again he did not show up. He didn't even bother to call and give her an excuse this time. No matter how lame, at least an excuse would be some indication that he cared, if only a little.

 

Outside, a raging storm ensued. The rain beat mercilessly on the roof, echoing in the halls of the empty mansion and pounding relentlessly on the windowpane. A flash of lightning illuminated the dark room, revealing the silhouette of the lonely woman.

 

`What went wrong, Vincent? Why all of a sudden you started avoiding me? What did I do wrong?' she asked herself, hurting over his absence from the concert… and her life. One thought, one reason more than any other filled her heart with dread. `Is it another… woman?'

 

She slipped on a black nightgown. It was supported with tiny straps and had a plunging neckline, accentuating her ample cleavage. Its lacy bodice left nothing to the imagination. Both of its sides carried splits with reached almost to her waist, exposing her slender athletic legs. Standing before the full-length mirror in her room, she brushed her long chocolate hair, using light from outside to see.

 

The way she felt now, it was best that she stay in the dark.

 

The sound of an engine drew her attention to the window. She could see a dark BMW park in front of the stairs that lead to the large doors of their home. A quick glance at the digital clock on her side table told her that it was almost two am. This was the earliest he'd been home in the past three months.

 

She sighed, unwilling to watch him any further, yet found herself unable to leave the spot. He stepped out of the car and ran to the door, trying to get out of the pounding rain. His last step coincided with a resounding boom of thunder, with startled him to the point that he almost lost his footing. She gasped, thinking he would fall.

 

Evidently hearing her gasp, he looked up to her window. She retreated a step, mentally cursing his exceptionally good senses. Another streak of lightning illuminated his face as he mouthed her name.

 

“Tifa.”

 

No surprise, no fear, no contempt. Just “Tifa”.

 

She sighed once more, resigning to meet him downstairs. There was no point in watching him freeze to death outside the door; if he were fooling around, she would have to kill him herself. She laughed awkwardly at that thought. He may be good with a gun, but she could fight with her fists.

 

The door opened as she neared the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, the sound of the storm loudly filled the empty rooms. It was quickly muffled once more when he closed the door. He turned on the lights, illuminating his angelic face to her.

“Why are you running around in the dark?” he asked calmly.

 

No worry, no fear; no apprehension whatsoever. His calm demeanour was getting on her nerves.

 

“Because I want to be in the dark.” She answered flatly as thunder sounded outside once more.

 

“Tifa, I… I'm sorry I could not see the concert tonight.”

 

She looked away, unwilling to show her disappointment. It was childish, fretting over something like that. She had a more important concern on her mind, one that she was determined to get into the open. Now.

 

As she raised her chocolate gaze to his, however, it seemed that he was busy looking for something. Before she could question him, he supplied her with the answer.

 

“Where is everybody?”

 

“We gave Jessie and Biggs the week off, remember?” She sighed in frustration, hoping that her voice wouldn't break. He didn't even remember what he did just the day before.

`Whoever she is, she must be doing something pretty special to get him so out of touch with his life…'

 

The sound of footsteps echoing off the marble floor drew her from her reverie. Vincent now stood before her.

 

Chocolate orbs locked with ruby as he tentatively touched her cheek with a black-gloved hand.

 

She felt her breath catch in her throat. Even though she had developed reservations about his fidelity, she could not resist his touch. She loved him. She knew that beyond a doubt. She allowed her eyes to travel the length of his body as his right hand caressed her cheek.

 

He was wearing knee-high black boots; their soles caked with mud. Wherever he had been, it was muddy. She closed her eyes briefly, banishing such thoughts from her mind for the moment. His black pants and scarlet dress shirt were soaked through by the rain, despite the long black trench coat that reached almost to his ankles.

 

She was then drawn to his face. Ruby eyes stared at her, appreciating her body as she was doing to him. His pale skin contrasted to his ebony locks, which, now drenched by the rain, clung to his body in a most seductive way. Perfectly chiselled lips rose into a smile she knew well, one which indicated that he had one thing on his mind.

 

“Well,” he started, confirming her perception, “since they are gone, we should take full advantage of the opportunity.”

 

She sighed, pulling away. “It's never stopped you before.” She then turned away from him, trying to force herself to voice the question that was plaguing her mind.

 

She heard the sound of heavy fabric falling to the floor. He had shed his coat. Closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arms around her, deeply inhaling the scent of perfume on her neck. His wet hands were having a desirable effect on her body, and she felt as though she would melt in his arms.

 

“Tifa…” he whispered in his baritone voice, sated with lust. “Is something the matter?”

 

She groaned as his lips descended gently on her neck. All thoughts of her questions and doubts fled her mind. She rarely saw him, and desperately needed his touch, if only for one last time. “No.” she responded softly.

 

He knew she was lying; he always knew. But he had no intention of pressing her for answers that night. He had been busy, too busy, and he feared that he was beginning to lose her.

 

`I have to tell her everything, eventually. I will, just not tonight.'

 

He regretted keeping her uninformed, but he felt it was the right thing to do then. Now he was not sure. He loved her more than anything, and the past months were unbearable without her. He too was desperate for her touch.

 

Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands gripped the fabric of her negligee against her hips. She closed her eyes as his hands began their slow journey up her body. He released his grip on her hips and slid his hands to her waist, then to her chest, making sure that his talented fingers touched every sensitive spot.

 

She moaned, resting the back of her head on his shoulder, completely enthralled by his ministrations. Her moans were punctuated by yelps of pleasure as cold fingers began to cup and fondle her breasts.

 

“Tifa…” he whispered in her ear as he rained her slender neck with kisses.

 

She felt as though her legs would give out. Since the day she first met him, he had this effect on her. Reaching behind her head, she dove her fingers into his obsidian strands. As he whispered praises to her, his lips brushed ever so gently against the shell of her ear and his cool breath fanned across her face. She needed him, and, by the hardness against the small of her back, she knew he needed her just as badly.

 

He pulled her away from him, and she groaned at the loss of contact. He spun her around to face him at a dizzying speed; she would have fallen had he not pulled her to his chest.

 

For moments they stood flush against the other's body. She shivered from the cold of her now wet back, the warmth and wetness of his body against hers, and the hardness that found itself against her lower stomach. It crossed her mind to rest her head against his chest and relish in the warmth of him, but she could not pull herself away from his eyes. His orbs of garnet locked her in place, delving into her very soul, and she knew beyond a doubt that for that night she would be lost in them.

 

He lowered his face to hers, never taking his gaze away. He enjoyed every moment of seeing into her pools of pure chocolate. He loved the way she looked at him. Even now, her eyes told her what she wanted, but he still needed to hear her consent. Something was coming between them, and as much as he wanted her, he would never force her. He smiled as she closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted and waiting for his kiss. Who was he to disappoint? He gently closed the distance between their lips as he pulled her body closer in a passionate kiss. He made love to her tongue, as slowly and gently as he planned to do with her body.

 

Too soon for either of them, their kiss ended as their lips parted for air. He found himself staring into her eyes as she turned off the lights with a command. She returned his gaze, her soft features illuminated by lightning as she said with her voice what he already knew from her body.

 

“I want you, Vincent…” she whispered in the dark.

 

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped her up into his strong arms bridal style. A long roll of thunder drowned the sound of his steps as he ran up the stairs.

 

Grateful that she had left the door to the room open, he carried her straight to the bed. He laid her gently among their red satin sheets, careful not to be too rough with her. He stepped away to admire the woman who had such a firm grasp on his heart. He was going to fix whatever it was between them; for she should belong to him alone. He could not live without her.

 

She was his life.

 

His love.

 

His angel.

 

He was going to find the reason and make everything all right again.

 

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a long trial of dark-brown locks on the sheets. She dangled her feet over the edge, curling her toes in the deep white carpet as he got on his knees before her.

 

“It's been so long… too long…” he whispered amidst the beating rain. He closed his eyes, relishing her touch as soft hands caressed his face.

 

She frowned slightly in frustration as her hands travelled down to his neck. She felt she was going crazy.

 

`I'm sure there was something…'

 

A shiver of pleasure raced up her spine as his hands slid under her gown and began to stroke within the nest of curls between her thighs. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt, passing her touch across his chest.

 

As she opened the last of his buttons, he shrugged the shirt onto the floor. He tilted his head back, enjoying the movement of her delicate digits along his well-toned chest. Each touch stirred him to his core, and he felt his erection constrict in his pants even more, but he willed the pain away, determined to make the night last.

 

He opened his eyes, feeling that she was now trying to undo his belt. Grasping her wrists with his hands, he raised them to his mouth and kissed the tip of each elegant finger as he massaged them with his tongue and his teeth. Finally relinquishing her hands, he stood, giving her better access to his pants.

 

He closed his eyes as a deep moan sounded in the back of his throat. Thunder masked the sound of his pants sliding to the floor. Seconds later, his boxers followed, revealing the extent of his desire.

 

Tifa locked her gaze on his erect organ. Now free from its constraint, it was almost level with her mouth. A mischievous smile graced her soft pink lips as she looked up to the eyes of her lover. Holding on to his hips, she licked the tip of his manhood.

 

Another groan escaped him as he felt her tongue against him. As much as he enjoyed her touch, knowing well how talented she was with her tongue, he had other plans for the night. He had deprived her for too long. That night was for her.

 

Taking her wrists once more, he silently bid her to stand. She did, making sure to drag her body against his tip as she stood. Slipping one hand behind her head, and the other around her waist, he pulled her against him in another breathtaking kiss, deeper and more passionate than the one before.

 

As they parted for air, his gaze lingered on her eyes, heavy-lidded in passion, and listened to her erratic breathing. One strap of the gown had slid off her shoulder, revealing a creamy breast almost to the nipple. As a streak of lightning illuminated the dark room she was the most erotic image he had ever seen. He wanted to take her right then, but he maintained his self-control.

 

As his lips met hers once more, her groans became louder. He smiled inwardly, aware that it was because the only thing between her core and his desire was the thin cloth of her nightgown. He slipped off the other strap.

 

She trembled with the sensation of the fabric sliding down her skin. The initial coldness from the exposure was immediately replaced by the sensations of his touch. Her legs finally gave out as he leaned onto her, causing both to fall onto the bed. After he rose himself enough so that he would not crush her, she pulled herself further onto the bed, a gentle tug on his bottom lip by her teeth bidding him to follow.

 

There was a reason why they had a king-size bed.

 

She released his lip as he began to follow. He crawled slowly to her; tasting and touching every part of her he met along the way with expert hands and tongue. As he tasted her most secret place, she fisted the sheets, gasping his name in half-breaths. At her breasts, she entangled her hands in his hair, begging him to end the torment.

 

She trembled with anticipation as his face finally became level with hers. His dark hair fell around them like a curtain, now almost dry from their heat. She whispered his name as she spread her legs, awaiting the time of their unison. His lips met with hers and she closed her eyes, enjoying his nearness to her.

 

He did not make her wait for long.

 

Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered himself into her. The feel of her body stretching to accommodate him was exhilarating to them both. Dark lashes fluttered open as she looked at her lover, whose gaze was in turn fixed on her face as he moved within her. The pleasure of release began to build within her, waiting to get out. She closed her eyes tightly, screaming his name as she fisted his ebony tresses.

 

 

When he wasn't showering her with kisses, he watched her face, pleased with himself that he could make her writhe beneath him with her face contorted in pure ecstasy. He could feel his release coming, but he willed himself to go on, he could not stop until she was satisfied. He increased the speed and depth of his strokes, again pleased that she matched his pace, screaming his name and gasping sharply at each thrust.

 

`How could I have lasted three months without this?' he thought. If he went for nearly so long again, he feared he would surely die. If he had his way, they would never leave the bed again. He pinned her hips to the bed as he went harder and deeper still. Her name was a mantra to him.

 

 

Her cries were the thunder; he was the lightning.

 

 

All that she knew was the man above her.

 

His long black hair.

 

His hot breath against her body as he panted her name.

 

His lips that descended constantly on hers…

 

and the friction.

 

Oh sweet friction!

 

He felt her tighten around him as she screamed his name to the night. He willed his body to hold on as she quivered with pleasure beneath him, but to no avail. He too shouted the name of his lover to the night as he released his seed within her womb. Thunder sounded, as if in response to his call. Unable to support himself any longer, he collapsed beside her as he withdrew.

 

She smiled at him with a heavy-lidded gaze as he massaged her cheek. His last words suddenly snapped her back to the reality she was in before his arrival as sleep claimed him.

 

“I love you Tifa, I always will.”

 

 

She felt tears come to her eyes as the rain outside began to subside.

 

`If he truly loves me, why does he leave me alone?'

 

`Why would I be afraid that he has someone else? Why do I find it so easy to doubt the one who says he loves me?'

 

She let the tears fall, grateful that he was asleep. To her, the worst part was that she was not mad. She wasn't angry at him for putting her in the position where she could entertain the thought, and knew well that she wouldn't hate him if she discovered that it were true.

 

She could never hate him.

 

“I love you too, Vincent. Always.”