Runaway Fiancés | ONC 2023 (Complete)

Four - Marcos

[CW: This chapter mentions a man making an unwanted advance on Catalina. She is neither compromised nor in real danger, but the mention may be triggering for some. If you want more information, a summary, access to the rest of the chapter without that portion, or anything else to accommodate you, please send a DM and I'll help you out. No questions asked.]

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A vast openness appears before me, the sky darkening with the influx of heavy grey clouds. A cold wind howls though there are no trees or buildings in sight. I stand alone in this foreign land until the small curly-haired woman who consumes my every thought slips her hand into mine.

She squeezes it gently, whispers drowned out by the screaming of the wind.

I try to speak to her, but the words are caught in my throat, forced down by the storm and the fear and the cold.

"It's okay," she whispers, turning me to face her. "Let go, mi amor."

"I can't." I grit out, tipping my forehead to meet hers and gripping both of her hips in my hands. Curling my fingers in on themselves, the silky soft fabric of her dress caresses my skin.

I close my eyes and her fingers drift up into my hair, gently rustling the edges against her fingertips. "Let go," she whispers again, lips against my ear.

The sky fades out around me and I'm weightless as her lips brush my cheek, grazing down my jaw and stopping at my neck. She peppers kisses along the edge of my shirt, working her fingers through the back of my hair, tugging ever so gently. Every move she makes sets me ablaze.

She draws her lips against my jaw once more, kneading her fingers into my tense shoulders.

"It's okay, mi amor." Her kisses languish, replaced by sensual delicate touches adding fuel to my ever-increasing need for her. "Let go," she says again, nipping at my earlobe.

There's no decision anymore. The wind presses her skirt into my legs and my hands find their way to her soft, giving hips, pulling her closer and longing to have her closer still.

Her lips feather against my jaw and she reaches her arms around my neck, pulling herself up until her eyes are level with mine.

My self-control wanes and I lift her against my chest, longing to be closer, aching to lean in and capture her lips in mine. But she holds me still, fingers tangled in my hair as her beautiful brown eyes assess my face. Her thighs press into my waist through the layers of her skirt and my hands grip at whatever she'll let me hold.

I'm desperate to have her but I dare not move. My breath comes in time with hers.

She breathes.

I breathe.

She moves.

I move.

Her supple lips are on mine.

I let go, falling to the ground with her atop me, muddy earth cooling my back and her hurried hands heating my skin wherever they touch.

Finally, I free my hands and tangle them in her long, curly locks, pulling her toward me once more and sealing our lips together. Every move she makes accentuates the pleasure radiating through every part of me. I can't tell where she ends and I begin, but the rain pounds down on us from the sky above and falls in sheets, searing our clothes and hair to our bodies, and melding us together into one mess of trust and lust.