http://clampfix.fanworks.net/smut/firestor.txt </head><body><pre> ***Warning: This is a Lemon fanfic, with adult material!*** "I think," said Karen softly, "that I've loved you ever since that day when you came to my workplace to interview me." Firestorm The epilogue to "Storm Front" By Shanti Fader Seiichirou gazed down at the woman standing before him. Karen had spoken those astounding words, not hoping for anything in return, but as a simple, uncomplicated gift. In truth, the Wind-master realized, her words were more than that -- they were a lifeline thrown to him as he lay drowning in his grief. For the first time since the death of his wife and daughter, Seiichirou found his vision turning outward from the dead and blasted landscape of his heart to focus on another living creature, on someone else's needs and heartaches. Indeed, Karen's words were perhaps the only thing that could have done so. He drew a long, shaky breath. Karen stood before him, so close that he could feel the warmth of her body -- or was that the glow of her pyrokinesis held in check? -- radiating against him. Her face was turned slightly away, as if she had been struck by a sudden fit of shyness. Without really thinking about it, Seiichirou found himself cradling her face in his hand and turning it so that her eyes met his. How innocent she looked -- as hopeful and trusting as a girl before her very first kiss! It was as if all the misery and hardships of Karen's life and work had been wiped away. Karen shivered beneath his touch. For a brief moment, Seiichirou felt himself slip back into the paralyzing grief that had been miring him, but he shook it away, pulled himself firmly back to the present. /Forgive me, Shimako,/ he thought. /But there are people here who need me now./ /I must choose to live./ He slipped his other arm around Karen's slim waist, drew her up against him. The look of wonder and delight he saw on Karen's face was enough to convince Seiichirou that he was doing the right thing. Then his eyes slid closed and he brushed his lips ag ainst hers. The contact was electric. As they touched, a spark of something vivid and glowing and alive leapt from Karen's lips to Seiichirou's and seared its way through his body, kindling something deep within him. It was as though a firebrand had been lit at th e base of his spine -- leaping and glancing up through his body, his spirit, and his ravaged heart, reminding him of what it was to need, to hunger, to be alive. His arms tightened around Karen, crushing her against him with an urgency he had never felt before. The kiss, which had begun so gently, flared into something fierce and demanding. Their lips parted, only to join again after briefly wandering over the landscape of cheek and jaw. Karen made a small passionate sound in the back of her throat, and she pressed herself still closer, one hand slipping beneath Seiichirou's jacket and clutching his shirt while the other rose and tangled in his light brown hair. When at last they broke apart, both Karen and Seiichirou were gasping for breath. "Are you..." Seiichirou finally said, "Are you certain...you want this?" Karen's smile was luminous. "I want to give something back to the man who brought such joy into my life." He looked anxious. "I don't want you to do this just for me." "Silly." She reached up, traced the line of his jaw with a finger. "I've spent more years than I'm going to tell you catering to the whims and pleasure of men I cared absolutely nothing about, and who thought nothing of me or my own pleasure." Her smile deepened. "Do you have any idea what it means to me to be able to do something for a man I do care about?" Seiichirou hesitated. The fire was burning more fiercely than ever within him, and he could practically hear it whispering to him "Live!" He wanted her with an urgent passion that bordered on pain. And yet... /You say you love me, Karen. And I could love you, perhaps. But not yet, not so soon. Not with Shimako.../ At the thought, Seiichirou felt the cold, lifeless sensation creeping back into his spirit once again. But this time the fire blazed up in retaliation, driving back the chilly fog of despair. /I am alive!/ "Ahhhh" Karen sighed as Seiichirou took her in his arms again. His moment of doubt seemed to be over; his arms were tighter around her than before, his mouth on hers was harder, more intense. She delighted in the taste of his mouth, the roughness of his unshaven face against her own. She slid her hands under his jacket, pushed it back off his shoulders, and he lifted his own hands from her just long enough to let the jacket fall away. Then they returned, sliding down her body. Karen shivered as his fingers brushed delicately against the side of her breasts. She let her thighs move slightly apart, and one of Seiichirou's pressed between them. Their hips arched against each other, and Karen could feel his desire growing hard and urgent against her body. None of the men Karen served at the Flower had ever touched her this way, with such a mixture of gentleness and need. /Come to think of it,/ she told herself wryly, /I can't remember when anyone's ever touched me so lovingly./ As a girl, she'd frightened her mother to the point that she hit Karen repeatedly; when her mother finally gave up and took her own life, nobody wanted to get near the pyrokinetic child. And as a soap-girl, Karen was a piece of merchandise, catering to men who came to her with money in their hands and scorn in their eyes. Karen's skin prickled. Suddenly, she felt an ache sweep over her that only Seiichirou's touch could assuage. Taking his hand, she pressed it to her breast. Seiichirou drew in a ragged breath, then his fingers began to move, teasing her nipple erect even through the layers of her clothes. As if on some unspoken signal, they began removing each other's clothing. Karen pulled free Seiichirou's carelessly knotted tie, and undid the buttons on his shirt slowly, one by one. It took Seiichirou a minute to find the fastenings at the back of Karen's dress, but then it was undone, and the dress slipped to the ground in a soft, liquid shimmer. "You are so beautiful," Seiichirou whispered hoarsely as she stood before him, light from the fireplace dancing over her pale skin. His hands cupped her face, trailed down the length of her throat, brushed the lace-covered swell of her breasts. His hands left trails of flame on her skin every bit as real as anything Karen had ever conjured. She smiled up at him. "And you are beautiful, too." To her amusement, Seiichirou blushed. "Oh, you can't mean that -- I'm not in really good shape, or anything..." "Don't be silly." Karen's eyes roamed appreciatively over the Wind-master's body. He was not overly-muscled, but lean and gracefully built, with broad shoulders tapering to a trim and narrow waist. "I don't like bulky men. Besides," and she grinned mischeviously. "I used to daydream about you. I'd pretend that you had come back as a customer, and try to imagine what you looked like without your clothes." She sighed, and turned away, suddenly serious again. "You never did come back. I didn't expect to see you again -- and I certainly never thought we'd be caught up in the battle for the earth together!" She could still remember the gradually fading hope, and then the swift, bittersweet joy she had felt when he reappeared after so long, and in such an unexpected setting. "I don't want to talk about the earth right now," Seiichirou said, moving to close the space between them. "Me neither." The world, the battle, the looming crisis -- everything outside this single room and the man and woman it contained spun away and vanished, like ashes carried off by the wind. /I am alive./ The words kept repeating themselves to Seiichirou from that place deep in his soul; it was as if a part of him feared he would stop breathing if he were not constantly reminded. As though if he did not stay firmly focused on the present, he would slip entirely away, like a man running the wrong way on a moving sidewalk. /I am present. I am here and now. I am alive./ He was lying in front of the fireplace on a thick, forest-green carpet which was nearly as comfortable as a bed. Karen lay beside him, her bright hair spread out around her face and shoulders like an extension of the nearby fire. Her hands moved over his bare chest, shoulders, and arms, and everywhere she touched seemed to tingle with life -- as though he were coming to life beneath her fingers. His own hands slipped down along the sides of Karen's body, moved beneath her to unhook the clasp of her brassiere. She sighed and arched her back as the scrap of lace and satin came away, thrusting her breasts up to meet him. Seiichirou bent his head, pressed his lips to the tender skin of her throat, and kissed his way down her body until he reached her breast. He took the small, taut nipple in his mouth, caressing it with his lips and tongue until Karen flung back her head and gave a long, wordless cry. Her hands found his belt and unbuckled it, then slipped inside. Seiichirou's body stiffened as her fingers stroked the hot, achingly hard length of his manhood. He jerked his head back so as not to clench his teeth against her sensitive flesh as she continued the motion. "Karen!" he gasped, struggling to keep the wave of his desire from cresting. "I can't..." "Trust me," she said softly. One hand slipped down from his shaft to the tender place below, and Seiichirou felt the immediate urgency recede a bit. He let out his breath in a long, whistling sigh. "With my life," he murmured, as Karen freed him from the rest of his clothing. Lace-topped stockings came away easily from their garter belt. Seiichirou pulled the gauzy things free, then ran his hands hungrily up Karen's newly-bare legs, up her long, velvety thighs, underneath to cup and caress her backside. Karen gasped as he trailed his lips down her belly; and when he reached the lacy edge of her panties, he took it between his teeth and tugged them down. Then, as he kissed his way back up her body, he let his fingers slip up and around the inside of her legs, and sink into the dark red patch of hair between them. To his astonishment, Karen tensed at the touch, and her eyes went wide. "I...I'm sorry," Seiichirou stammered. "I....Did I hurt you?" Karen shook her head violently. "No! I...just wasn't expecting that. Nobody's ever..." she drew a deep, shaky breath. "Nobody's ever touched me that way before," she finished very quietly. "Nobody's ever...?" Seiichirou repeated incredulously. He stared down at the woman lying below him, as if seeing her for the first time. "You mean, none of those men....?" A surge of indignation for Karen welled up in him, and was followed by such a rush of compassion that he thought his heart would burst. He lowered his mouth to her nipple again, took the other one between the fingers of one hand, and with the other, began to stroke between her legs. Gently at first, then harder and more swiftly, until the tension was gone from her body, and Karen was writhing and crying out wordlessly beneath his body, rocking her hips up against his hand. One of his fingers found the small, tight opening, and probed it until the muscles relaxed and opened, and Karen lay trembling against his body, raised to the same fever pitch she had brought him to earlier. Moving his hand away, Seiichirou shifted himself until the whole length of his body was pressed against Karen's. He could feel the vital heat of her leaping from her skin to his, feel her breath, hot and rapid, against his throat. Her arms wrapped arou nd his back, pressing him closer; her legs tangled with his own, and her hips arched upward as though pleading with him for release. Again Seiichirou shifted, and then with one smooth motion he was inside her. Karen gave a cry, and her nails dug into his back. He never noticed the pain, but began to move within her, holding back as much as he could at first, but the need was too great, and he began to thrust into her with a rhythm that grew fiercer and more urgent with each passing minute. And to his delight, Karen responded eagerly, matching his motions with her own even as she held him with a grip of steel. Their movements reached such a pitch that they rolled completely over. Now it was Karen who loomed over Seiichirou, and she arched herself up and back, rearing up above him like a goddess above her shrine. Seiichirou had lost his glasses a while back -- he thought he remembered putting them safely on a table -- and as Karen leaned away from him, she seemed to lose cohesion, and her face blurred into a pale, mysterious shape rimmed with a glowing nimbus of fire. And then it was he who was losing cohesion, his body dissolving into a million flecks of glittering fire. As the rhythm of their dance gained frantic speed, both of their physical forms flew asunder, and their truest selves spiraled heavenwards, twisting together in a dazzling whirlwind of flame. Higher and higher the whirling fire climbed.... ...and then at last it crested, and sank, and they were in bodies of flesh again, solid and sweat-drenched and locked in each other's arms. Seiichirou gave a long, shuddering sigh. He was spent, both physically and emotionally -- too many feelings had flown through him that day. But now he felt purged and clean, and at peace for the first time in what seemed like years. Fighting to keep his eyelids open for one moment longer, he stroked a curl of red hair that lay across his chest. "I love you," he whispered. Then his eyes closed, and Seiichirou sank peacefully into a deep and healing sleep. Karen lay still until the quiet, even rhythm of Seiichirou's breathing convinced her that he would not awaken. Then she rose, untangled her limbs from his, and pulling on the first article of clothing that came to hand, the woman walked over to the door and opened it. "Well?" Sorata asked anxiously as Karen poked her head through the door. It was late and the other Dragons of Heaven had all retired to their rooms, but he had stayed, waiting for news from the adjoining room. "Were you able to do anything? Is he going to be okay?" Karen smiled, her whole face softening, and fingered the top button on the oversized men's shirt she wore. "Yes," she said at last. "I think he'll be fine." The End </pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>