allichaton

Loooong snippet. :p About 4k. But it's sex! Good stuff! ^_^ Nice raunchy sex-in-the-bathtub sex!

( Like I said, this is sex, so if that sort of stuff bothers you, or you're underage, you really shouldn't read this. )

Long snippet from my NaNo, rated PG-13 for safety.

( Snippet )

Kyl closed the door behind him. He faced me again and watched me, silent and still. I returned the stare for a moment, but I couldn't read anything from him. He may as well have been stone.

I was tired of being studied as if he could read my every thought, and was intent upon memorizing everything he saw. I moved the cat off of my lap and stood. My smile was pleasant and insincere. "If you would be so kind as to find me a set of fresh clothes, Captain, I would be most thankful. I've had my fill of confinement."

He lifted a brow. "You're still weak, my lady. You should not be straining yourself just yet."

"A simple walk is hardly a strain, Captain. I need the chance to stretch my legs."

"No. You need to stay in bed and rest, Riannen. It's the quickest way to ensure your recovery."

Gods, even when he was patronizing, he made my name sound like a caress. I managed not to shiver, barely. "Jern said nothing about needing to remain in bed."

"Nor did he say you did not."

I opened my mouth to speak; he didn't give me the chance. He strode to my side and wrapped his hands around my shoulders. I couldn't move when he held me like that--my hands were pinned against his chest, and my arms at my sides. I had no leverage.

He dominated my vision. "Your health is not negotiable, Riannen."

My hands tightened into fists. I glared up at him. "I am not yours to command, Captain."

"This is my ship. As long as you reside within her, you damn well will do as I say. If you think I'll tolerate insubordination from you any better than I will my men, you are going to be unpleasantly surprised."

"You are absolutely right." His eyebrows lifted. His face was a mask of surprise. I almost smiled. "As long as I'm on your ship, I don't have much of a choice in the matter. So." I tilted my face up towards his and smiled. "Where's the nearest port?"

He hesitated, then frowned. "Riannen--"

I waited.

"Damnall." He gave his head a quick shake. "You are certainly in no shape to be wandering about a foreign city on your own. I couldn't leave you at a port on your own, with a gods bless and a quick farewell. I'm responsible for you."

"I'm responsible for myself, Kyl," I said.

The use of his name made him frown, considering. "You're not able to take care of yourself yet. Riannen, listen to reason. When you woke yesterday, you didn't even know your name. You still know nothing else about yourself, much less how to get about on your own. You'll end up with your coin stolen and your throat slashed in some filthy alley, and I will be responsible for letting you wander off into such dangers unprepared."

"You are not going to hold me hostage on your ship."

He hesitated. That angered me more than anything else he had said. "No, Riannen." His voice was quiet. I wanted to applaud. From my limited experience, I gathered it to be quite an accomplishment. "I won't hold you hostage. But nor will I let you walk into danger silently. We'll put into port in at Seon, two days from now if the weather holds. If you want to leave us then, I won't hold you here. But by the gods, Riannen, I'll fight you."

I frowned. His hold on my shoulders had eased; I crossed my arms over my breasts. "Why?"

"Why?" He seemed confused by the question.

"Right. Why? Why do you care so much about me, about what happens to me? Why are you willing to spend your time and energy on me? Why are you standing here arguing with me, when all you'd have to do is watch me leave in Seon, and never have to deal with me again? I don't understand it, Kyl; why do you care?"

"Why--" He broke off, and stared at me as if he had never seen me before. "You want to know why I care? Mother above. I watched the ocean toss your body about like so much driftwood. I lead the men as they brought you aboard. My arms were the ones you fell in when you spilled over the gunwale. I cleaned your wounds." His hand shot out, too quick to avoid. He grabbed my wrist and extended my arm, turning it palm up and revealing a jagged line of stitching that ran from shoulder to mid-forearm. "I felt the heat of your blood spill over my hands as I sutured your wounds. I felt your fever, heard the panic and terror in your voice when delirium held you in its grip. I held you in my arms and comforted you when you could do nothing more than huddle in the corner and whimper." He lifted his other hand and brushed a light touch along my cheek. His expression was tender. "I watched your battles with inner demons flicker across your face. Riannen, I found you at death's door, and I've spent the past three days watching you fight your way back. And you wonder why I care. Gods above, how could I not care?"

I had class from 9:30 to 2:00 yesterday, so it was really hard for me to get my words. Sleep exhaustion kept creeping closer and closer, far faster than my word count goal. I ended up going to bed about 12:20, and setting my alarm to get up at 1:10. Stayed up writing from 1:10 until 4:00-ish, and am now at 10,724--only 705 words shy of where I should be. I'm pretty pleased, since I was fully expecting to be abolut 2k short by the time I finally went to sleep.

( Snippet: Angst Alert! )

Snippet! :D:D

***

"I am a man, not a god, Xochi. I told you that before."

"And I am not Xochiquetzal; I told you that before. When will you listen to me?" She pulled against his hold, but it only tightened. She frowned at his fingers wrapped around her wrist, his grip skirting the edge of pain. "Let me go."

He pulled her closer, forcing her to step towards him. "Xochiquetzal is the only name you have ever given me. What would you have me call you?"

"Given my druthers, I'd have you let me go and be on my way. I may be your wife, but I'm not yours to command as you wish, nor anyone's."

"A trade, then?"

She laughed, but it was laced with pain. The primal instincts of the animal within her had taken hold of her; Tezcatlipoca held her captive, and her only recourse was flight or flight. After the night she'd spent in his arms, she didn't have the strength or will to fight him. Gods knew he'd be sure to win. But her limbs ached for the freedom of flight; her heart fluttered within her chest, fueled by adrenaline that made her muscles twitch with the need for use. "My freedom, for my name? Why do you care?" And Huitzilpoctli, why wouldn't he let her go?

"Why do I care?" His eyes narrowed; his voice turned husky, dangerous. "Why do I care about the woman I married? Why do I care about the woman I shared passion with, who showed me overwhelming passion unlike any I've ever known?" His grip tightened, drawing her forward now with an urgency that refused to be denied. "Why do I care about the terror I see now in your eyes when you look at me? Why do I care about you? Gods--how can I not care?" He shook his head, a single quick, hard shake that spoke eloquence about the frustration that made his voice waver as he spoke. "And how can you not understand? Do you not care to know my name, to know me for me, instead of the god all of Mexica expects me to be?"

"I. . ." She drew a deep breath. She tread foreign ground here, aspects of herself that she'd never thought to pay attention to before. "I have never thought of you as anything other than my god. I have always worshipped you"--he grimaced, and she hurried to correct herself--"worshipped Tezcatlipoca above all others. Ever since I experienced my first shift. He is the Leopard Lord; it only made sense. And I have never thought of you as anything other than him. I have never been given the chance. I was chosen as an ixiptla candidate because of my overwhelming devotion to Tezcatlipoca, and I have had lessons of how I should behave and how my lord should be treated pounded into my head for the past eleven months. When everyone and everything I am taught revolves around holding you up as Tezcatlipoca himself, how am I supposed to think any different?"

"I might ask you the same question." His eyes were dark, unreadable. His hands were bands of iron around her upper arms, holding her locked against his chest. "Do you think my priests have been regaling me with stories of your mortality, your humanity? Don't you think that I have suffered the same propaganda that you have? I have gone through lessons for this past year just as you have, on how to treat my new wives, on how delicate and fragile my new goddess-wives will be. . ." He made a disgusted sound and shook his head. "We're beyond that, aren't we?" He paused for a long moment, a painful expression transforming his face. "You are the only wives I shall ever know, you and your sisters. Would you now force me into a mockery of marriage, as I have been forced into a mockery of godhood?"

She wanted escape. Every shred of common sense she possessed told her to run, to escape from his hold and just run. But another part of her, deeper, cousin to the feral jaguar that always waited crouched within her, wanted to stay, to teach him her name, to learn his is return. That part of her held her frozen within his grasp, trembling, yearning to give in.

Too long, she'd done what she'd had to, at the expense of all the things she'd wanted to do. Too long, she'd been slave to her common sense, to the predator's demands for survival. She was tired of sacrificing; she was tired of being led around on the leash of obligation.

"Eleuia," she whispered, her voice shaking as she spoke the one word she wanted to speak, and the one word she shouldn't.

"Eleuia." He whispered her name, his lips curving into a soft smile. His voice turned it into a caress. "You have a beautiful name, Eleuia."

She let him draw her forward, until her forehead rested against his. "I want to hear yours." She spoke softly, the barest of whispers. "I want to know your name. Please."

"Nezahualpilli."

She had to chuckle. "Every name I have to call you by is a mouthful. Do you not have a shorter name, that I may use?"

His smile spread. "I would be honored if you would call me Neza."

"The honor is mine." No sooner had the words passed her lips than he pulled her tight against him, and covered her mouth with his own. There was passion, just as there had always been, but this time there was tenderness, as well. There was intimacy, and caring. A new level had been added to their relationship, and Eleuia shivered at the implications.