Story: Poisonous Orchids


Poisonous Orchids
by Nix Winter

All Rights Reserved
copyright 2012

Dedication: The Gardner, written for her birthday.



The Orion Palace sat central to the world, the heart of the world with whispers and dreams all swirled through the halls as if it were a great cocktail, intoxicating and probably not good for a person in the long run. Hosting the founding convention of the Civic , both blessing the endeavor and trimming it like a bonsai, President Orion saw to it that all the people whose input or approval she needed were present. 

And so it was that for the first time since South Africa that Felix was both on Earth and near all the other pilots, the people he'd known in the war. Taller than he'd been then, his hair trimmed neater, his suit made of the finest wool, the finest designs, cut and tailored for his lean and demanding form alone, he felt as if he only barely had any stain from his actions during the war. 

Trevor had smiled at him, and Felix had smiled back, a slight twinge of might have been sparkling in the air between them. Jody was a medical student now and had declined to attend the conference. He said he felt he had little to offer. 

Alin had joined Preventers. He was loud and boisterous, like some midnight orchid in a garden of pink and proper roses, an orchid that would poison anyone foolish enough to get too close. There was a dark and dangerous wildness in that man's soul. 

With the meetings finished for the day, Felix found himself in quiet room over looking the gardens, a cup of chai held in deceptively delicate fingers. In the calm of the room, he sipped the fullness of spice and heat in his chai, felt in control of his part of the world. His father's company in hand, the wars settled and likely to stay that way for the foreseeable future, he could turn his attention to his own future. 

He wanted love. 
He wanted children.
He wanted to corral the wild nature of the universe, so that it would purr when he petted it. 

He sipped his chai, imagined dark hair sliding through his fingers, felt heat around his cock, disembodied and unclaimed this heat he wanted. Passion was a gift from Allah, giving men and women the gift of children. He brushed the smooth porcelain of his cup over his lower lip, imagining a kiss could be dark twilight. 

The door's latch clicked, drawing his attention towards the white and gold door, to the woman leaning against the door, her lips parted as if they were only just barely not screaming or crying out. She wore a Preventer uniform. The dark blue of the skirt circled her legs which were long and paler, curved like an athlete, but slender and definitely female. Both her hands pressed to the expensive and antique wood of the door. Her dark, amethyst tinted hair framed her face. 

Felix gestured to tea pot, the additional cup. "What's wrong?"

"There was some situation in town," she started as she pushed herself away from the door. "A ferry capsized and Sam just had to go and help. He and St. Grenis think they can do anything. It's like they think they have to save everyone! They're reckless."

"I'm sure they are using skills that will be greatly needed," Felix said, not sure why he felt as irritated as he did. "Come, have tea with me."

"Sam is an idiot," she hissed. After another movement, she crossed to the other wing back chair. She slumped her knees together, arms crossing her knees. "How can he not know how valuable he is to peace?"

Creamy chai swirled against the delicate porcelain, complaining just a little against the confines of teapot's spout. "Do you think he's worse than St. Grenis? I'm sure they both enjoyed the opportunity to get out of the palace. I believe St. Grenis called it stuffy."

"What would he know?" Elisha snapped. "He's a child still. He probably thought diving into bomb infested waters would be fun."

Felix sipped his chai. "What do you think would be better?"

"There are people who are paid and trained for that kind of work. Sam is a mecha pilot and St. Grenis is a mechanic. Neither of them should be out getting in people's way. I want someone like you, someone who wants a family, to watch the sun set and wake up ready for the next day. I want children. I want a father for my children who won't end up with his molecules spread out over the Martian desolation."

"A lover with a death wish is less than ideal," Felix agreed, thinking whoever got the black orchid that was St. Grenis would be unfortunate. "I also want children. You have the most beautiful hair, like midnight."

She set her tea down, unzipped her Preventer coat a bit, revealing the firm curve of her breasts. "I want a lover who will be there for me."

His heart beat a little faster. Licking the slightest bit of sweet from his lip, he set his chai down. Slender fingers then pulled his tie loser. "A man would be incredibly lucky to have an intelligent and skilled woman to be the mother of his children, to stand beside him in a dangerous world."
"I want to be that kind of lucky," she said, slipping out of her jacket.

"You are beautiful, Elisha. Any man who didn't desire you more than air, has no right to claim his manhood," Felix said, quoting, possibly badly translating an ancient proverb. 

She toed off her shoes, leaned back in the chair. "Prove it to me."

He stood, eyes never leaving hers. "I have nothing to prove."

War had scorched them both, distorted time so that there was now sometimes and little else. They were not poisonous orchids, but wild roses no rail to cling to. 

She lunged, throwing herself into arms waiting to catch her. Her fingers ran through his golden hair, hair like sunlight. For a moment his decorum whispered to him about marriage, about orchids, and forever, but now always outweighs forever when tomorrow is fragile as good wishes. Now pulled him down on her, he leaned into her kiss, his tongue taking her mouth, knowing her as if knowing were owning. 

In his own kind of reckless, he unfastened her skirt, slipped it down away from the firm curves of her waist, her tight ass. She was brilliant, brave, beautiful, loyal, rational, and everything that would make a wonderful mother and wife. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom part of his suite.

Her arms held around his neck, drawing her close enough to kiss his neck, his ear, to pull at his shirt with her teeth. "Make love to me," she begged, her need to connect coloring her voice, making it deep and pleading. 

Reverently he laid her on the huge bed, his hand sliding out from under her legs to caress up the inside of her leg, over the silkiness of her pantyhose, to the wetness between her legs. Still kissing her, he pressed his hand to that moisture, as if its welcome could soak into his skin, mark him as hers and make now closer to forever. He slipped back, toed of his polished shoes, unfastened his belt and pants, dropping them along with his white silk boxers. He was as golden below as everywhere on his body. Wearing just his socks and shirt, he slipped his fingers under her pantyhose, pulled the form fitting wrapping down, revealing lean body, midnight black curls. 

Her approval was a low rumble at the back of her throat as she scooted up on the bed a little. 

The pantyhose falling to the floor, he followed her on to the bed, crawling between her spread legs. His fingers skimmed over her slick flower, a finger tracing along the edge of one labia, then he dove in, licking and suckling her clit, the sweet honey of her desire. 

"Oh hell," she groaned, her hands in his hair. "Yes! Felix! Give me a baby! Give me family!" 
Hands on her thighs, he guided her a little bit farther apart, needing her to obey him, to submit and he focused on her pearl, licking, rocking his tongue over the top, pushing the hood back. 

"Please, Felix," she begged, "No condoms, just you and me."

With a growl he surged forward, feeling her leg come up beside him, guiding and holding him. She lay back, her hands still in his hair, near his face as he kissed her, the intensity of it demanding forever, demanding all the things they both wanted from the world. As he slid into her, parted her heat and silk, became part of her, he groaned into the kiss, giving her what he'd never given anyone else, what he could never give any god damn wild orchid. 

Nature, deeper than civilization, than planning wrapped her around him, He thrust, rocking against her swollen clit, in her hot body, but his mind was all white, all instinct and the power of nature. Every stroke felt as if heaven had swallowed him whole. She thrust against him, dancing with him, and they cried, clawed to stay there in that moment, Preventer tan against CEO crisp white, holding to what they could while what they couldn't defied control. 

When they came, the pleasure squeezed them both, wringing them to cries, to the fragility of fabric and meaning. He delivered inside of her, heat splashing up into her body, half of life that defied war, defied the death they'd both brought and feared. She bit him, through the expensive cloth of his shirt and he cried out, his sweat soaking into her shoulder along with his tears. A whole life lived in those moments, her arms around him, caressing him, his strong arms holding her, and they had a whole life together, the good days and the bad, forgiveness and redemption, the understanding that a person would do what they had to do to live, even if they didn't know what living actually meant. 

The fancy clock chimed the first stroke of midnight then, ticking off that now had moved into then. She rolled up, out of his arms, and reached for her pantyhose. "They're still not back."

Felix curled up next to her, his hand pressing against her bare belly, imagining the beginnings of life. "They're okay. If something had happened to them, someone would have brought me the news."

She laid her hand over his, a tender hopeful touch. "If it were a boy, what would you name it?"

"Hadrian," Felix said without hesitation. "And a girl?"

"Aya."

"You love him, don't you? Sam Toren."

"Yes, but it's no different for you."
Felix flopped back on the bed, an arm over his eyes, one bare leg bent. "It's everything different for me."

"He is a little out of control," she said and she didn't have to say if she meant Sam or St. Grenis. It was true for both of them. She turned then, reached out a hand to him. "I love you too."

He took her hand accepting her love with a tender and gentle smile, knowing in his empathetic way that she did love him, but not in a wild orchid kind of way, just a sweet warm honey kind of way. "I'll always be there for you. Call on me for anything, El."

She squeezed his hand. The ancient clock that had once belonged to kings chimed the last stroke of midnight. 

Comments

Anonymous said…
That was amazing. Well written and erotic. Your descriptions are amazing and I would enjoy reading more if you continue. <3

Popular posts from this blog

Christmas Blog Hop

Excerpt 2: Redeem Me