Taut flesh burned beneath the woman’s fingers winding slow crescent moon into his shoulders, a soft touch that found its own memories on her lips. Memories of summer fields and the question Jon had often wondered. How many times had they raced through the door after being out and about? How many times had they thrown their whims aside, and in turned pinned eachother to that bed frame? Truth be told Jon and Maggie never wanted to leave each other’s touch. Where there was one, there was the other without fail.<br/><br/>And so tangled in a kiss his familiar hands rose above hips to catch the hem of her gown crumpling beneath his fingers which grasped about the cloth and lifted. Lips caught together she begged him to stay, make her alive, which the Pooka understood in its way. She needed meaning and purpose. Something the Fae understood in a world lost to its traditions. That part of Jon that still lingered in this room with Maggie pecked away at her lips to her chin not wanting to release the kiss for fear of losing her. But alas the gown had been lifted above her chest leading Maggie’s dark lover to lift his kisses and place them along her neck drifting towards her shoulders then to top of her breasts bound by a bra.<br/><br/>Gown lifted away a soft smile could be seen from the darkness. Perhaps she feared to lose sight of him too early, for thought that this may be a dream. A cruel, cruel dream. But the Pooka was no imaginary thing though it masqueraded as such. His touch, his kiss was real, real as any memory or object within that bedroom.<br/><br/>Resting a chin upon her abdomen as his hazel eyes met her silvery blue, his expression spoke of adoration without words. Then a hand reached forth to hold her cheek warm with life and a torrent of emotions. A thumb painted curves as if to soothe her worries.<b>“I love you Maggie.”</b>Her husband said softly. Words fell with warmth upon her flesh as lips turned to kiss and trail lower. Recollection of youthful memories could play out in those touches just as when Jon flew across to the states for the first time. Did they race to her apartment as well?<br/><br/>They always seemed to be racing towards passion together. Jon was always a sweet man the way he handled her, whether lifting, pinning, or carrying it was as if he had taken it upon himself to fulfill her in every need. Every want. Some would say she was needy, others would say he was co-dependent. But what were those words but labels. Something Jon felt limited many from seeing a true love because who they were fitted so perfectly together. Perfect with every kiss that trailed lower and lower over the small hill of her hip blending into her lower body.<br/><br/>With surprise the Pooka slunk off the bed and with a playful yank tugged Maggie across the top of the bed to the edge. Practically lifted up she was caught in a motionless kiss of her husband who held her face with such love and longing. Time seemed to speed away save for the pattering of heavy rain pegging away at the bedroom window, but for them they were lost in a moment. Morven was lost in an emotion it was unfamiliar with. It had never known what it was to feel loved, only loneliness and longing, only the darkness.<br/><br/>When the kiss finally broke be pressed his lips once to the bridge of her nose before holding her gaze with the deepest want. There was something animalistic in those eyes. Not threatening save for the intent, the intent to take and ravish. But truth was hard to see in the cloak of night and Jon’s hand found its way gently about her neck. His fingers slowly closed about her throat to hold her gaze and in a moment he whispers,<b>“You are all that I want Maggie. I don’t think I can ever let you go…”</b>