Wolf's Rain Fan Fiction ❯ Another Sort of Paradise ❯ Paradise (NC-17) ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The following part is NC-17. Please don't read it, if you shouldn't.

It was as their friends and family discussed them that Kiba and
Cheza found their way home--but they had no memory of these
loved ones anymore. They were with the one person who
mattered, who ever had. There was no point in thinking about
anything else now.

It was Cheza's description of the world's end and rebirth which had
brought them closer together, if that were even possible now. It
seemed to both of them that they had always been connected, their
souls merged from the beginning. Their physical meeting was only
the culmination of a long-awaited cosmic plan. Now they could
find their own paradise.

They had spoken very little since their meeting, but nothing was
needed. Some sort of knowledge had been born with them, an
intimacy part of their souls. They could speak forever and still
never come close, in words, to what was felt. All that mattered
now was that they were here.

There had never been any real belief in the outside world, then, but
it was once they had found their way to Kiba's apartment that their
truer communication began. He lived above his studio, but neither
had any interest in buyers of art today. This was all that existed
now.

This truth lingered, the world around them shut out completely, as
they turned to one another, looking in each other's eyes. There had
already been a tenderness between them, but this was a moment
they had long waited for, their first kiss near. And it would be the
first, they both knew. However they had known each other before,
whatever the tenderness of their connection, there had been nothing
so physical then--couldn't be, for whatever reason. But now there
was this. He leaned in close to her, feeling the softness of her lips
near his. And that was all there really was anymore.

The kiss began as sweetly as every other part of their meeting, his
lips pressing softly against her own--but the sensation was far more
exquisite than that. The tenderness, the union of it was everything;
the sigh she let out was swallowed by him with a groan. But it was
only the start. Finally, after all the years of this earth, they would
be one.

This truth made itself known only a moment later, her arms
embracing him again, the intimacy between them binding their
souls. When she opened her mouth to him, the first breath of her
was overwhelming, making him hold her more tightly, his hand
running into her hair. When their tongues first gently met, his
groan was louder--made all the more so by another of her sighs of
pleasure. It alone was everything, the experience heady and
intoxicating. All he really knew was that he could live in this
embrace alone for the rest of his life.

She too understood this, holding him tighter, as the kiss went on. It
was a new, an amazing experience--but it would have held the
entire world for her, even if it hadn't been. She had always been a
little disappointed in being a human, had thought of flowers as far
more graceful and beautiful, however short their lives. But now,
she was glad that she was a woman, was glad her wolf was a man.
Because only in these forms they shared could they truly be
together at last.

He knew this too, cherished it, astonished he had lived for this long
without her. Always, he had known she would be there, had
known he would find her, but he had sometimes feared that he
might be dreaming--as Tsume had always suggested. Now, he
knew the truth, that she had always been there, had always been
waiting; he held her nearer, kissing her more deeply. And she had
always been the one reason he had wanted to go on.

They were caught in this embrace again for a sweet sort of eternity,
neither wanting to leave it, both of them enraptured by the perfect
flavor of the other; it was one they had known their whole lives,
was one which made some inner universe move. Still, he did pull
back, meeting her eyes, and she was so happy for the gift of sight,
thankful to her mother for that. She could feel his heartbeat against
her, could feel his breath against her skin, could feel his arms
surrounding her, but none of it was half so important as looking
into his eyes. The blue depth of them called to her, told her
everything he felt--but she had never questioned; his hand caressed
her cheek, and she gave thanks for the gift of touch as well.
Everything in this world had been created for them--and they alone
would be able to cherish it now.

The perfection, the intimacy of the moment went unquestioned, as
did what would come next. The sort of concerns outsiders might
have thought of--their lack of words, of spoken knowledge of each
other, the fact that they had just met or that she had never before
wanted to be touched--were meaningless to them. They had had
one sort of union simply by meeting. Now, it was time to
consummate it in full.

He, like she, didn't question this, but he did want her to know one
other fact--his look sad, apologizing. "Cheza, there was someone
else before, a girl. For a little while, we . . ."

He was stopped by her fingers over his lips--her old verbal habit
reborn. "This one knows." She smiled at him tenderly, her
fingertips brushing softly over him. "But this one is yours now.
Neither of us will worry about the past."

The sigh he let out was long and shaky, his fingers tender on her
cheek, as he drew her into another kiss. It was all they had needed
to say--his confession made. Even then, all those years ago, he had
felt as though he were cheating on her, had known it wasn't right.
But this was; the kiss grew deeper. All that mattered was that they
continued their union now.

It was this thought which moved them both, their hands working on
their own to remove each other's clothes, breaking the kiss only
when necessary. Soon, they were naked against each other, held
close in their partner's arms, but it was such a natural state for them
that they hardly noticed the change. All they knew was that every
sense was alive and whole--for the only time. Now, they would
finally be one.

Their movement toward the bed went almost entirely unnoticed by
them, every second of it too natural to question. It was only when
he lay above her, the kiss continuing, growing increasingly more
needy, that his senses grew too wild to continue it--breaking him
away with a moan; his gaze held nothing but her, his hand tender on
her cheek. "Cheza." It was a sacred name to him now. No one
would ever use it around him without showing the proper respect.

She knew this, adored him for all he was. Her smile held a balm for
him that flowed back into her from his eyes, one she felt in her soul.
"Ki-ba," she whispered, before watching his deep gaze close, his
head rearing back on a moan--his look so tender. He was too
beautiful for words; she leaned into him. And she was so very glad
that she was with him at last.

He was already lost to her, so far beyond words. Just the sound of
her voice saying his name was enough to undo him, some inner
sense of wildness emerging, making him want to devour her, all the
while drinking in her sighs of pleasure at being the devoured. Her
scent alone was enough to drive him mad, some sense of it having
been born with him--motivating him to find her. But, when he felt
the sweetness of her lips kissing softly at his adam's apple--pleasing
him just where an animal might go in for the kill--some sense of
softness within him broke, his groan immense. She had already
proven that he was vulnerable to her, more so than with anyone else
on earth; his look returned to her, an untamed fire burning there.
And he would thank her for that sweet fact by pleasing her to the
point of insensibility now.

She let out a gasp at his look, but she wasn't frightened by it; the
smile she gave was tender, adoring. She had been told the truth
when she was young, had lived for it all these years. Finally, her
wolf had found her. And she would do anything he wanted to
always be his flower.

There was nothing she needed to do, though, nothing except enjoy
his touch--his soul burning to please her. He lay her back softly,
kissing her once, before trailing his lips in soft explorations down
her throat; her head leaned back in an instant, showing her own
vulnerability. But it wasn't taken advantage of, her wolf in human
form moving further down, enraptured by the soft skin of her body.
She was worthy of being devoured, was made for it; his groan
echoed just above her heart. And he alone would know the joy of
being the one to always give her pleasure.

He was already beginning on this path, Cheza's head back, eyes
closed, as he kissed around her heart. The taut, tender nipple called
to him, and, as he took it in his mouth, suckling softly, her whole
body arched, the pleasure tumbling through her in waves, the truth
unbearably sweet. She was his flower now, and she was blooming.
But no flower had ever known pleasure like this.

He continued to suckle her softly, treasuring her cries, as she held
onto his shoulders, arching into his tender touch. The whole
experience had already left her gasping, the feeling of his arms
around her both a comfort and a demand; she shivered against him,
incoherently asking for more. When he wrapped his tongue around
the tender bud, she felt herself floating, a sense of paradise moving
within her, begging him to follow her. It was perfect--and it was all
there was anymore.

He was already lost to her, enraptured by every discovery, but the
hunger for more rose fiercely in his soul. The sweet bud he had
found was intoxicating--her moans of pleasure even more so--but
the scent of her was overwhelming. He knew he needed her, knew
he had to have more--the need almost maddening--but he was lost
as well in the sheer rapture of discovering his flower for the first
time. He wanted every second of this slow introduction to last an
eternity yet needed to move only in the deepest union with her
forever. And he was more than a little torn about which of these
paths to take.

Perhaps Kiba was lost to these thoughts, but not Cheza. Even as
his lips kissed down between her breasts, the softness of them
alighting every desire, she knew what she truly needed. She had no
sense of patience now, her gasp sharp, as his lips enclosed the other
nipple, the storm rolling in her, as he suckled. She needed more
than this tenderness, more than the sweetness of his lips. She
needed him--the whole of him--inside her, needed the completeness
of such a union; the waves beat louder, as he suckled her tightly.
There was nothing else to live for but that.

He seemed to know this, kissing down her form, leaving her to cry
out in her need for him--but he didn't allow her to move him on just
yet. He had to know her, had to kiss her, at the source of her
perfect scent, at the place his soul drove him to--and she didn't
have the breath left to dissuade him. The next thing she knew, he
was kissing and licking at that sweet nether bud--and she was left to
shudder, so very close to paradise.

He knew where she was but had no mind left to think about it. All
he knew was that he was here, at the place which held the flower he
had long searched for, at the source of her gorgeous scent. It was
everything he had always dreamed--and it was this of which he
would always need more.

He knelt there, then, his tongue licking repeatedly over that small,
tender bud, leaving her to shiver in her soft cries--bathing him in the
desire the sounds gave. He was feeling gentle now, was reverent--
always would be--but he wasn't certain how long such softness
would last. He could feel the need for her--for a union, for a world
which only encompassed the two of them--and he just wasn't sure
that he could keep from being the wolf for very much longer.

This fact didn't matter to her, though--or wouldn't have, had she
had the thought left to process it. She had already been washed
away in waves of need, in a desire far greater than she had
understood could exist. His devotions had already left her feeling
as though she were about to be destroyed in their brightness, the
sun of his passion burning her alive. But she had no fear. So long
as she had him forever, there would never be anything but pleasure
again.

This truth was everything, but the searing joy of it was threatening
to tear her apart. Every lap of his tongue sent floods of lighted
desire through her, made her shake in her need to have more of
him. But she couldn't speak to tell him this, couldn't imagine
making a coherent sound. All she could give were little pants of joy
at the way he tasted her, at the love and pleasure he conveyed to
her there; all chance for speech seemed to have left her. Still, with
one supreme, shaking effort, she managed a "Ki-ba." But that was
all she had to give anymore.

Fortunately for them both, this was all it took, her lover's groan
sounding against her. He kissed softly at the flower he adored, his
lips tender on the bud as well--leaving her shaking--before moving
back up her petalled skin. The softness of her alone was enough to
drive him mad, that inner wolf begging to have her near. But it was
only once he saw her wide, beautiful eyes that all desire to hold
himself back fled--his voice a groan. "Che-za." There was nothing
else in this world but her.

It was with a kiss that their union began, the soft, firm tip of his
shaft pressing against that flower he adored. He was almost afraid
of hurting her, of destroying her in his love, but that nectar he had
just so enjoyed invited him in, the flower of her parting to bring him
home; the kiss grew deeper, their love complete. The moment was
far too intimate for words, but the adoration it held was inviolable,
unquestioned. This was the union both of them had been created
for. This was the moment they had been promised before the world
began.

They held this knowledge within them, the joy of it total, as the kiss
mimicked their greater union--every second perfection. His shaft
was thick, but it slid into her so exquisitely, her soft, sensitive walls
molding to him with her sigh. Every second of it brought a shudder
of pleasure, made them long for more. Nothing outside of it
existed at all.

Her arms were embracing him now, holding him down to her, her
hands soft in his hair--encouraging the kiss. But it was her softness,
her sweet yielding, which made him feel so much wilder, which
made some inner need start to howl for her; the groan was in his
throat, as he kissed her more deeply. When he slid his long shaft
out of her slightly before sinking further into the nectar of her
depths, she gave a shaking moan for him which simply undid his
soul; something very near a growl echoed within him. God, he
needed her now, needed all of her. And he just wasn't going to
survive without having her completely at last.

One hand was caressing her hip, the other soft in her hair, as he
pulled away from her, needing her eyes. He could feel himself
beating within her, could feel the intimate softness of her walls--her
scent all around him--and knew he had to have more; his gaze
caressed her. "Take me into you, Cheza." He kissed her lips softly.
"Please. Take all of me."

Oh. "Ki-ba," was her only answer, was all she could say, her whole
body shaking for him. She could feel the exquisite breadth of him,
the way he had parted her, beating inside her, their heartbeats
combined, and she wanted nothing more than to have him all, to be
one with him at last. But she knew as well that there would be
pain, knew that was what stopped him--his fears for her; her
fingertips were tender on his cheek, her love of him in her eyes.
Whatever the fears, only one answer made sense. "Please." If she
didn't have all of him now, there would be nothing of her left.

Dear God. He saw her love, her consent in that moment and felt
absolutely run through with his adoration of her; his hand was on
her face, his eyes closed, as he kissed her lips. "Thank you." A
moment later, he pulled back, his hand on her hip--gaze entwining
with her own, bracing something inside him. If there would be pain
for her, he wouldn't look away, wouldn't deny his part in it.
Besides, whatever happened, she had to see his love.

It was with that look of devotion that their union became complete,
his shaft embedding itself to the hilt inside the soft home of joy she
offered him. She let out a sharp cry for a second, her head back,
her nails sinking into his shoulder, but the pain didn't last for long--
the tenderness of his kiss taking away whatever was left. A
moment later, too, when she had adjusted to his girth, he began to
move--and then all pain became a long-lost memory.

She couldn't keep up the tender kiss he gave her, couldn't focus
outside of him and the moment; her eyes were closed, her sighs
constant. There was a sweetness to the rhythm of his movements in
and out of her, was a tenderness and a need there which left her
breathless; it was overwhelming. He seemed so big within her, but
the feeling was perfect, all the same, seemed preordained for their
joy. Just the sense of his shaft stroking slowly through her,
reaching her tender depths before retreating for yet another long
journey, had her shaking through, the rapture of it almost
overpowering. She felt as though every millimeter of her form
were alight, each of them molded to experience the joy he could
give; another deep journey found its home in her core, making her
moan. And she could only hope that every day to come would
bring them together like this.

It would; he knew that, questioned nothing between them anymore-
-the moment too perfect for doubt. There was barely any sense left
for thought, even, every fraction of his soul caught up in her. Just
the tender way her body accepted him, soothing and arousing his
beating shaft with every sweet stroke, was enough to endear him
forever. But the joy on her beautiful face, the enraptured gasps she
gave, as he stroked through her tender depths, meant even more--
becoming the whole of his world. There was no other pleasure like
this, *was* nothing else; his shaft sank into her more deeply,
causing a sighing gasp of her delight. And he was already certain
that there would never be a second of his life without her near.

She knew this as well, moaned in her joy, arching toward him to
ask for more. The brief pain of her inexperience was already long
forgotten, her whole world centered on the ecstasy he could bring.
Just the sense of him inside her made her gasp, but it wasn't
anything like the whole of her rising pleasure. It was partly just
being in his arms, knowing that she was his absolute focus, feeling
the utter, unquestioned love which bound them as one. But the
newer joy of this union was the physical shock of being loved--and
there wasn't a single second of it she was going to give up now.

She was already enraptured by it all, was utterly aroused by the
glorious feeling of him, by the reward for having invited him inside
of her. Just having her body remolded around his thick shaft left
her spellbound and shaking, but every journey of it was a delight in
itself. Each one, each second of them, allowed her to feel the way
he pulled almost out of her then slid entirely back in; his hand on
her hip steadied him, kept her from shaking ecstatically out of his
grip. It was already paradise, this sweet repeated union alone; her
moans grew deeper. But she was well aware that this wasn't as
good as it would get.

He knew it as well, was completely captured by her--his eyes
focused unblinkingly on her beauty, her joy. She had been lovely
enough when he had still been slowly stroking through her, just
adoring her reactions to their union, but she was even more perfect
now. With every entry of his shaft, her entire body shook, her
loving, embracing depths enclosing him in a way which made his
mind fog over; his own groan met her gasp. All he knew now was
that he had to have her, had to have more; his next stroke was
deeper, to her shudder. But he was well aware that it was what
both of them needed now.

He had already started to speed up--the movements unconscious,
instinctive, his need for her innate. Every entry left her gasping, her
nails digging into his shoulders, her back arching for more--and still
his eyes never left her. She was just too beautiful for words--and
he was much too in love to ever look away.

The force of his journeys inside her were greater now, his rhythm
faster. She was aware of it through the fog of her bliss, but had no
conscious understanding of details. All she knew was that he filled
her, was that a sweet, tiny bubble of joy had been born somewhere
far inside her depths, a bubble which was growing ever-larger,
which seemed to shine. As his broad shaft moved through her more
quickly, it grew, was beginning to fill up every inch of her form; her
legs circled him, her hand in his hair--inviting him to take
everything he might need. If it grew any bigger, it would take her
over, would leave her with nothing but ecstasy. And then there
would be nothing left for her at all but him.

This moment was rising, growing ever closer--but neither of them
were likely to turn it away. While his eyes had closed at last,
unable to withstand the sight of her beauty, he had lost himself to
her entirely, felt nothing but her. She lived in his every pore, every
cell; she existed in lungs and heart and mind. He was nothing
without her; his shaft beat so heavily, thrusting faster, deeper. He
could only focus on one fact: he had to have her with him, had to
feel her lose all conscious sense as well. Because that was the only
definition of self he had left.

It was here he was caught, was here his soul focused; his arms were
around her, his groans rising by the second, as one hand cushioned
her soft curves, molding her toward him. There was no other way.
His existence hinged on her, on her joy. Without that, there was
nothing left on earth for him anymore.

She didn't know this, not consciously, anyway, could do nothing
but gasp and cling to him. Her legs and arms were around him
tightly, her breathy moans begging him wordlessly for more.
Whenever he seemed to enter her more deeply, she could swear her
entire soul paused with the pleasure of it. But, as perfect as all of it
was, none of it, suddenly, seemed like enough.

He knew this too, was going mad with it--every sensation
overwhelming and yet taunting his need for more; there was no way
to express it. The entire, long beat of him was so shiveringly
sensitized that the embrace of her form seemed maddening; his
hands clung to her hips, driving himself into her all the deeper,
needing more. The way her soft depths caressed him, made them
one, was lighting his every sense on fire, screaming through him for
everything she could give; the thrusts moved faster, rougher. All he
knew was that he had to bring her to him, had to experience her
ecstasy. There was absolutely nothing for him without that.

It was this thought which undid him, his soul maddened for her.
There was nothing left in him but the sense of her--but the untamed
need for everything she was--and it alone was sending her into
some realm of joy she didn't understand, one which seemed too
bright for anything human to survive. But it didn't matter anymore.
Her survival was him, was the life they shared. There had never
been anything on this earth for her but that.

She was lost to this now, was lost to every second of him--but the
sound of his soft, deep voice only made the desire for him scream
all the louder. "Che-za," he moaned, both hands clinging to her
soft curves, molding her to their joint need, as his broad shaft drove
so deeply inside her over and over again; she let out a cry of her
own, her hands finding his curves, pulling him into her, begging for
more. There would only be this sort of bliss for them ever again.

There were no words left, was nothing but this; her body and soul
were in his hands, everything she was his to create. Just the feeling
of him was overwhelming, left nothing conscious in her: the heat of
his body above her; the vibrations of his groans against her chest;
the sense of being molded by his large hands; the exquisite feeling
of his huge shaft beating inside her so deeply, so constantly that it
was the only reality she knew. Her breathy cries were rising into
screams, that sweet bubble of light already filling her, taking over
every inch of her form. Soon, she knew, that inner brightness
would explode, would be able to grow no larger. And then,
without a doubt, she would understand what it felt like to be swept
away in ecstasy for good.

Dear God, he understood, understood it all. This was the definition
of every joy, the meaning of every struggle. This was what life was
about--the sweetness of this one soul he was merging with.
Nothing else on earth would ever mean as much to him as this.

They both knew this now, had no questions. They simply rode
together, instead, striving ever-closer to the perfect, joyful whole
which awaited them. Soon, they would reach it--and then there
would simply be nothing else.

She could feel this, as she arched against his body, arching onto his
long, hot shaft, feeling him fill her to the point of breathless bliss;
his head was buried against her neck, her cry against him long, as
his thrusts moved almost violently inside her, molding her into the
form they both so needed now. With every new, deep strike of his
heavy shaft into her perilously-aroused core, her breathy screams
rose, the sense of inner brightness overwhelming. Then, finally,
with one last stroke inside her very soul, she screamed, everything
tumbling inward. And there was nothing left of either of them but a
cry of joy.

The moment tumbled them together into one, made them into a
whole neither of them would ever part from, their nails digging into
their beloved one's back. When he kissed her a second later, their
love, their joined soul, was sealed, the cries of bliss shivering there.
Neither of them would ever exist outside of it again.

Dear God--it was everything, for both of them. Their souls were
one; their bodies shook, each of them clasping the other so tightly
to them that there was no way to tell them apart. Each was arching
into the other in their sweet rapture, absolutely lost to anything but
this. Time had stopped. This one moment was what the world had
been made for. Finally, they were one.

There was no describing the joy of it, for either of them--both so
lost. There had just never been anything like this--not even in his
dreams, or her confidence in the future. While both had understood
that this day, this union, would come, neither had quite understood
the absolute bliss which awaited them--but neither questioned it
now. This alone was everything that would ever be.

They said nothing, either then or in the lovely eternity during which
they began to float down from such heights, but neither needed the
words. All day-to-day concerns would be handled; all fears would
be faced and overcome. Their family and friends would eventually
understand. For now, as she hummed a song of sleep for him, their
bodies entwined, they knew the only truth. They had finally found
each other. Paradise, at last, was where they lived.
[The End]