Bessa

Only Him And Her

Borson

Rigid stance - mauling eyes.

Death rushes out from her sight.

Bessa holds no softness.

"It's your turn to cut my hair." She angles her head down, with her breath caught in her chest. Nothing moves between us, not even the air.

Exhaling, "you have to cut my hair now."

Taking the binding off her right wrist so she can cut my hair easily.

Skin against skin.

It's shocking. A slow inhale out, trying to control the sound, as the blood rushes downward between my legs. The Wild shifts between the gaps in the bones and flesh.

Unable to move, her hand in mine. Standing there - breathing heavily. It's a chore to try to move a muscle with purpose when all the Nature of my will wants to do is bite into her neck, claim her.Teeth points are felt against the edges of my tongue. Sharp, with a longing to mark.

Bessa tries to pull her hand away, there is no loosening my grip. This is how it has to be, how it always has been.

Mates cut each other's hair, even if it's not the hair I thought I would be cutting, it's the hair that needed to be cut.

The Wild within rumbles out his devotion for his mate, only his, no one else and he thinks I am no one else as well.

Holding her sight, placing the scissors in her hands, we make our first cut together.

"Do you wish it was her doing this to you?" Textured, her hurt holds layers that I can detect from her sound.

Yes. Thinking to myself. I say nothing out loud.

Silence binds us together in misery.

"At least give me an answer to my questions. It hurts me more if you don't answer me. If she asked you a question, I'm sure you always had an answer for her." The smell of salt on her skin buckles the Wild within. I've always answered every question Elska has ever held.

Another piece of hair is cut away, "does she smell better than me?" Bessa's eyes leak salt down fleshy cheeks. Her lips tremble. 

Inhaling, "no." The scent of her singes the inside of my lungs.

Our eyes stay locked.

Squeezing the handle, more hair falls at our feet.

"Is she more desirable than me?" Her voice comes out that she believes that my answer would be Elska. How could it be Elska when Bessa is right in front of me. Her forehead, cheeks, nose, mouth, by the moon her mouth is something that I find hard to pull away from.

"No," realizing now, I can't picture Elska's face. Bessa's features are burned completed into my lids so when I close them, every detail of her is still there.

"What did you like most about her flesh?"

The way her flesh would flush with desire for me. I'd watch her color change along with her breathing, the way her chest heaved and the wetness that would cling to her panties.

Closing my eyes, "why do you want to know this?" Not telling her my answer.

"I'm your mate, it would be wrong for me to not understand what you love. Now tell me how comfortable were you seeing her naked flesh.

Closing my eyes, "we were comfortable around each other." Another piece of hair falls quicker this time. Wanting to get this over with fast, Bessa's tears slip harder, the Wild collapses with what Bessa will have to endure. The bones of my chest almost crack from the pressure from inside.