Surrender the Heart   

                                                                                                                                               By:  spacegypsy1   

 

 

CATEGORY:  Angst, Romance

SEASON/SPOILERS:  After Season 10

WARNINGS:  Mature, Not Graphic

 

AUTHOR’S NOTES:  This is a companion piece to “Thief of Heart”.

 

AUTHOR’S WEBSITE: 

 

  http://www.fanfiction.net/~spacegypsy1   

 

 

He sat against the head board, a sheet lay across his lap. She slept, belly down, uncovered beside him. Dark hair spread, as if craftily arranged. His eyes traveled her slim back to the rise of her perfect buttocks. Her face was turned away; he didn’t have to see it to know that its perfection flushed beautifully, serene in slumber. The only time Vala Mal Doran could be described as serene, those oft times she slept peacefully. He resisted running his hand down the slope of her back, across the tempting rise. He would let her sleep.

 

He had finally given in. Surrendered to her constant invitation. Capitulated to her guile. They hadn’t been drunk, they hadn’t argued, they hadn’t even said one word.

 

Closing his eyes he fought the she-deviled thoughts nibbling at the back of his mind. He did not love her. And she did not love him. He looked around the Washington hotel room, heard the heavy traffic drifting past the building on the street below. Last night, he had built his own titanium iris over his heart, had buried his own gate, covered it with heavy stones inscribed with skulls and cross bones, evil gargoyles, and horrific warning pictograms. And he had given in. Duly prepared, wanting to fill the void in his empty soul.

 

After the medals ceremony - two for Sam, one for Mitchell - they left the military reception early. Walking her to her door, he’d kissed her cheek and she had run a soft hand down his.

 

Her hand hovered near his cheek. He turned, she followed. In his room, he left her in the suite and entered the bedroom; sat on the bed and stared the stare of defeat out the window.

 

When he turned, she stood naked at the door. Alabaster skin and dark hair. Her countenance sultry, luminous, determined. The Goddess Qetesh.

 

He undressed, walked to her, lifted her in his arms, laid her upon his bed. The sex had been wild – both fighting for dominance, then the unbearable tenderness of making love followed, so painful he feared it would melt the titanium, turn the stone to dust, rob the grave.

 

She stirred beside him, bringing him back to the present. “Daniel?” She turned to him. The way she said his name had chipped at the titanium. She was almost too beautiful to look at. His arms went under hers and he lifted her atop him, kissed her in soul searing hunger. No. No. No, his mind cried; he could not, would not surrender his heart.

 

 

                                                                                  ** The End **  

 

 

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