Sign Up | Log In
BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - ROMANCE
Mal and Inara reach an understanding--of sorts. (This part contains adult content.)
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 4603 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Notes and disclaimers with Part 1.
"As Dreams Are Made On" Part 2
by HawkMoth (3/15/2003)
Devastated, her heart aching, Inara watched him go. If he left now, it would mean they were lost to each other forever. There would never be another chance to break down the barriers, to make things right. She would have to leave Serenity, face the universe on her own for the rest of her life, and leave Mal alone in the darkness.
She could never do that to him again. "Mal, don't--"
He stopped halfway through the door and glanced over his shoulder, his face shadowed. "Don't what?"
Her voice almost failed her. "Don't go."
"You asking me to stay?"
"Yes." His eyes narrowed, in doubt and disbelief. "Please," she added tremulously.
He took a slow pace forward and closed the hatch; then stood there, his hand gripping the locking mechanism. "You'd best think real careful before you answer my next question," he said softly. "You asking me to stay the night?"
Her breath caught in her throat. Was that what she was asking him? She didn't know--she only knew that at this moment she couldn't bear the thought of either of them being alone. "I--I... don't want--" The intensity of his look unnerved her, and she lowered her head. "I don't want you to go," she whispered.
Without a word, he triggered the lock. Then in two swift steps, he was in front of her, down on one knee. He put a hand on her chin and gently raised her head so she would look at him. "I will tell you true, Inara--if you want me to stay, I won't be responsible for what might happen. Do you comprehend what I'm saying?"
His eyes were as dark as they had been in her dream. But not haunted--just dark and deep with longing, backlit by hope and not a little fear. Inara sat mesmerized before him, trembling as he reached up with gentle fingers to stroke her cheek. If he stayed, she knew he would touch her that way all over--as if she were fine porcelain that might break under too much pressure.
"Inara... I won't ever hurt you. I won't ever let anyone hurt you like that again."
She turned her face into his hand, and kissed his palm. "Stay, Mal. Please don't leave me."
He breathed out heavily, almost a moaning sigh, and in one smooth movement took her into his arms, shifting his weight so he was sitting on the floor with her in his lap. Inara put her arms around his neck and curled up against his chest, her head tucked under his. They clung to each other, not saying a word. She could feel his heart beating at the same feverish pace as her own.
His body was so warm, his arms around her so solid and strong. He was breathing deeply against her hair, as if drawing life from simply having her so close. Inara couldn't remember that last time she had felt so safe, so treasured. Of their own volition, her fingers strayed up the nape of his neck in a tender caress.
Mal let out another deep sigh. "Seems to me we're breakin' all sorts of rules here," he said matter-of-factly, although his voice was rough with emotion. "Not to mention violating our original rental agreement."
"Ai-ya," she said with amused indignation. "This from the man who always breaks the rules."
He sat up straighter, so she was forced to lean back, and they could look at each other. His expression was very serious. "I knew you'd be trouble the moment you stepped foot on this boat," he told her sternly. "You've been a burr under my saddle ever since, and I suspect I've been a mighty irritatin' thorn in your side as well. An itch neither of us dared scratch."
Inara nodded, for there was no denying the truth of his words. "I thought I knew everything there was to know about men," she admitted, "until I met you."
Mal blinked, frowning slightly, trying to suss out if he'd just been complimented or insulted. "Yeah, well--I may not know a hell of a lot about women, but I thought I could see right through you, through the lie of your life--until you started twisting me up inside, making me see things different from the way I always saw them before."
His hands tightened on her arms and a shiver ran up her spine, though not of fear, because she knew he wasn't angry. His fierce honesty shocked and pleased her all at once.
"Don't think you haven't done the same to me as well," she replied, equally blunt. "You look at me and make me doubt and question everything I am." She twisted in his firm grasp, looking away for a moment. But there was no going back, now that they had stopped all the dancing, all the lies. "And sometimes--I hate you for it."
"Dah bien," he swore on a sharp intake of breath. "I know it. You don't think there ain't times I want to dump you on the nearest piece of rock, just so I--" he faltered, shaking his head. He brought a hand up again to touch her face. "So I won't have to look at you no more, and can stop dreaming about you...."
The pain in his voice pierced Inara like a knife. As tears stung her eyes, she tried to escape from him. They would never work past this. They would always end up hurting each other. Asking him to stay, giving in to their truest feelings, had been a terrible mistake.
But Mal wouldn't let her go. "It's too late to run away, Inara," he said, pulling her back into his lap. He cupped his hand around her head, his fingers twining in her hair. "Too late," he murmured, drawing her face to his, "for nothing but this...."
And he was holding her close against him, just like in the dream, but tenderly, lovingly, and their lips met, his mouth molding to hers with gentle insistence. One hand continued to move in her hair, while the other was splayed against the small of her back, fingers kneading her skin through her gown.
It was too late--to retreat, to resist. Inara surrendered, opening her mouth to him, taking his breath into her. She slid her hands slowly across his ribs, up his back, the rough fabric of his shirt a strange but welcome sensation under her fingers as she caressed him. All of their repressed longing, all the hidden love, had free rein at last.
Mal broke the kiss with a ragged exhalation. He pushed the robe off her shoulders and carefully down her arms, as she twisted her way out of it. He buried his head in the crook of her neck. His hands slipped down to her hips, then began stroking upwards, cupping her breasts, then sliding down again. She could feel his fingers pause, curiously pinching the rich material of her gown, then pressing in more closely to reach her flesh.
Her body swayed, leaning into his touch, moving with the rhythm of his caresses. She continued her own explorations, stroking and squeezing the fine, strong muscles of his shoulders, feeling his skin grow warm beneath his shirt.
Even in the throes of the most heated passion, a Companion would never lose control, never give up her innermost self. But Mal was taking it all away from her, and she didn't care. Every inch of her body was thrumming, thrilling to his touch, so unlike the touch of other men--all the ones who wanted her, the ones who said they adored her, even the ones who claimed they loved her. No other man had ever made her feel what she was feeling now....
"Qin ai de Mal...." He was rubbing a thumb across her breasts, nuzzling her throat with his lips and tongue, setting her blood on fire. She clutched at him desperately, arching her back as her whole body quivered in ecstasy. "Mal... my own heart...."
"Inara. Ni hao mei," he whispered against her skin. He caught her as she swayed, pulling her back to him. "A flower in the desert...." He took her face between his hands, bestowing soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, across her jaw.
The tenderness of it was almost unbearable. Her head sank onto his shoulder. She couldn't move, couldn't think as his hand traced a path along her throat, under the curve of her breast and across her stomach. He brushed aside the hem of her gown and reached under, gently stroking the bare skin of her leg, up her knee to the inside of her thigh.
Each new touch sent fire coursing through her again, bright and hot. She could feel Mal's body trembling with need. He lifted her head, kissing her on the mouth, tasting her, gently thrusting his tongue between her lips.
The fire ignited in her heart and soul, exploded in the very center of her being. She cried out against his mouth, lost in the overpowering sensations, shaking uncontrollably.
Mal held her close, murmuring soft, soothing noises as she quieted, cradling her more securely in his arms. When she finally looked up at him, tears of wonder in her eyes, he was smiling--that all too familiar smug smile, although his eyes showed a bit of awed surprise.
"Well now," he said, stroking damp tendrils of hair away from her face, "ain't that something."
Ai-ya--what had he done to her? "Ben dan," she scolded him, taking the front of his shirt and bunching it up in her hand, still catching her breath. Why had they waited so long for this?
He chuckled drily. "Ni hao ma? 'Cause this floor is getting awful hard, and so am I...."
She slipped her fingers in between the buttons, and pinched his chest, hard.
"Ow!" He slapped her hand away, glaring at her.
With an apologetic smile, she tenderly kissed his cheek. He finally smiled back, as they carefully untangled themselves and stumbled to their feet. Mal caught her under the elbow and pulled her close. It had been a long time since she'd seen him look so--content, so at peace. She wondered if she looked the same to him.
He bent his head to kiss her. A new wave of heat enveloped her as she felt his arousal pressing into her stomach, and instinctively she rubbed her body against his.
"Gah!" He broke away from her mouth as his body jerked in reaction, staring at her hungrily. "Think maybe we could get a mite more comfortable?" he asked, taking a step backwards to lead her toward the bed.
Inara froze. No, not there--that was where she conducted business, and it was not the place for what she wanted now. It would shame her if that was where they made love for the first time. She tried to back away.
Mal frowned, leaning down to look into her eyes. "What?" He followed her distraught gaze to the bed. "Oh, tzao gao," he muttered, as if reading her thoughts.
He held tight to her hands. "Listen to me, Inara," he said in his firmest captain's voice. "You made a choice when you asked me to stay, and I know it was hard for you. I made a choice my own self, and I reckon we're both gonna pay a price for it. So that--" he threw a nod at the bed-- "don't matter," he insisted. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. "This is just you and me. Nothing and nobody else counts, dong ma?"
If only she could believe that. "Mal--please, I can't--"
"Bi zui," he whispered, stopping her protest with his mouth as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Inara cried out against his lips again, almost laughing with delight as he laid her down reverently. She'd always suspected he was a romantic, deep down inside. She had always been drawn to what he tried to keep hidden, from the rest of the 'verse, from her.
Mal quickly kicked off his boots, then stretched out his long, lean body beside her. He gazed down at her, eyes gleaming as he stroked her hair. "I got no right to lay a claim on you, Inara," he said, his voice low and hoarse, "but I know what I want. You tell me that this is what you want, too."
She turned to him, laying her hand softly on his face. "Yes, Mal. This is what I want, too." Wode tian, how she wanted him. Heaven help her, that she loved this man.
The need for her in his eyes was more than she could have ever hoped to see. "Then this is how it is."
They reached for each other at the same instant, moving together as one. Mal's kisses were more urgent, more demanding than before and Inara found herself responding in kind. Her fingers worked frantically to unbutton his shirt, while she nipped at his lips with her teeth. They traded kisses and caresses with total abandon, hearts hammering, as they breathed in fitful gasps.
Mal groaned and rolled her beneath him, wrapping his arms and legs around her. The heat of their passion seared through their clothing. He kissed his way down her throat to her breasts, roughly pushing aside the top of her nightgown to suck and lick the newly exposed skin.
Inara cried out, and snaked her hand between their bodies, seeking purchase under the waistband of his pants, needing to touch the rock-hard source of his heat. Her fingers had scarcely made contact when his whole body stiffened convulsively, and he let out a strangled cry of his own.
She felt the pulsing swell of his release, and quickly withdrew her hand, gathering him to her as he gasped and shuddered. "Shh, shh, it's all right," she whispered, as he'd done for her before. Turnabout was fair play, she couldn't help but think, smothering the laugh that tried to bubble up from inside her. How strange, how wonderful, the power they had over each other.
Mal finally caught his breath, easing out of her tender embrace, his jaw set in manly embarrassment. Inara sat up and smiled at him, shrugging one shoulder.
"Well... damn," was all he said. He leaned back against the bolster, and stared down at his stocking feet. "Um, maybe I oughta--"
Inara lowered her gaze, and nodded demurely toward the shuttle's tiny head. "You know where it is."
He looked at her sharply, then away again. "Yeah, um, just let me...." He swung his legs off the bed and padded away quickly.
While he was gone, she busied herself with straightening the bedclothes, then retrieved her robe from the floor and hung it carefully on a chair. She took a moment to pause in front of the mirror, smiling at herself while she brushed out her hair. But she stopped in mid-stroke, feeling a twinge of confusion and worry. Nothing was going to be the same for them ever again.
Sighing, she put down the brush and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Mal. When he finally emerged, she was a little surprised to see he was still dressed, though his shirt hung unbuttoned.
He seemed a bit troubled as he came and sat beside her. "I'm thinking it might be a good idea if we didn't... if maybe we called it a night."
Without looking, he reached for her hand, twining their fingers together. His forehead was creased in thought. "Landscape's changing considerably," he said slowly, "and rushing things any more at this juncture might not be for the best."
She knew he wasn't talking merely about intimacy. He was just as aware as she was that everything between them would be different now, and it was going to have an overall, complicated effect on every inhabitant of Serenity. "I think you're right," she agreed simply, squeezing his hand. "We have a lot to think about."
He nodded thoughtfully, then his mouth crooked up at one corner. "Gonna have to renegotiate the lease, that's for damn sure," he drawled.
"Wuh de ma!" She dropped his hand and folded her arms indignantly. "You are impossible."
He shrugged. "I know. I'm a miserable cuss, and you are a saint for puttin' up with me." He put an arm around her. "Can I still stay the night?" he asked guilelessly.
He was impossible–impossible to resist when he let his vulnerable side show. "Yes, you can stay."
"Good," he grinned, kicking back to settle against the pillows. "'Cause I really didn't plan on leaving."
Zongshi you naixin Fo! What could she do except lie down beside him? It took a moment to get comfortable as she snuggled up to him and he wrapped an arm around her securely. She was content till he let out a heavy sigh.
"Future's gonna get mighty interesting," he said.
Inara recognized the deadly seriousness in his voice, and trembled in his arms.
Mal pulled her closer. "You scared?" he whispered.
She nodded against his shoulder.
"Me too." He placed a comforting kiss on her forehead, as much for himself as for her. "But don't you fret, darlin'. Sometimes it's best to sleep on things. We'll talk it all out in the morning, okay?"
"Yes, Mal," she answered, suddenly weary. The night had gone on too long, and morning would come too soon. The talking might get loud, angry and hurtful, but it would be done, till they came to a true, honest understanding of what faced them. It was all they could hope for.
She slipped her hand inside his shirt, and laid it over his heart. Mal reached over to dim the lamp, then kissed her softly on the cheek, and they slept.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 6:02 PM
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 6:09 PM
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 6:33 PM
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 9:17 PM
Thursday, March 24, 2005 4:06 AM
Friday, March 25, 2005 12:27 AM
Tuesday, April 19, 2005 10:27 AM
Tuesday, September 13, 2005 7:00 AM
You must log in to post comments.
OTHER FANFICS BY AUTHOR
All FIREFLY graphics and photos on this page are copyright 2002-2012 Mutant Enemy, Inc., Universal Pictures, and 20th Century Fox.
All other graphics and texts are copyright of the contributors to this website.
This website IS NOT affiliated with the Official Firefly Site, Mutant Enemy, Inc., or 20th Century Fox.