Gunther took a deep breath, savoring the mingled scents of sandalwood, roses, and that unidentifiable whisper of pheromones that surrounded his wife when she was the slightest bit aroused. It was a smell that he would never get enough of. The trembling woman closed her eyes and turned her face away from him. Tears of confusion slowly made their way down her cheek. Caught up in a tangled web of emotions, memories, and lust, Hilde found herself unable to think.
"Please," she said weakly, "Gunther, just go." Gunther nuzzled the place where her neck and shoulder met. That intoxicating smell grew stronger. He sighed softly. As Hilde's tears fell on to his cheek, Gunther went still. He leaned back and looked at her. She swallowed hard and barely suppressed a shudder.
"If you say the word," he said. Hilde's eyes closed tighter as her expression turned to one of pure agony. A part of her insisted that she needed to say the safeword, that it was vital she did so. Another wanted to scream in some undefinable emotion. And she also wanted to just sink into his arms and let him have his way with her. Gunther watched how her breasts rose and fell with each quick, shallow gasp she made. Somehow knowing the struggle roiling within her and aware how precarious her will was at the moment, Gunther chuckled.
"Shall I lay Doombringer between us?" he said, "Not even my shadow would cross over that blade. We would lay as chaste as children." Again, she appeared pained. Gunther moved a minute distance back from Hilde. A deep breath would have closed the distance, but as Hilde turned to look at him he maintained that tormenting close yet painfully far distance. Gunther brought up his right hand, holding it just away from her left cheek, a promise of contact. "Say the word," he said, a soft challenge in his voice, "speak and everything stops, Brynhildr."
The thought of not feeling his skin against hers struck her like a physical blow to the gut. If he hadn't mentioned his sword, Hilde would have been able to convince herself that it was all some kind of game. She would have found away to forestall until he lost interest, thereby relieving herself of the choice he put before her. "Just go," she whispered, not wanting to say the safeword but not able to give herself over to what he was kindling in her blood. A smile of triumph blossomed on Gunther's face. Hilde looked away quickly but she didn't move fast enough to avoid seeing the knowledge in his eyes that she was willing to engage in this dance of wills.
Gunther laid his fingertips lightly upon Hilde's cheek. Heat burned in them, though his touch was feather light, her skin warmed beneath his touch. She stiffened and shivered with a shuddering gasp. Slowly, he caressed her cheek and down along her neck. Hilde pressed herself flat against the wall behind her, making a small noise of distress. When he reached the neckline of her gown, Gunther set his hand upon where her collarbone peeked out. The full weight of his hand soothed something deep inside even as the heat that poured off made her take a sharp breath. He ran his thumb lightly over her windpipe.
In that brief moment, panic slammed into her and Hilde brought her hands up with a soft cry of terror. Gunther frowned but remained still. "Is that so?" he mumured. Hilde hiccoughed and covered her face with her hands. Slowly, gently, Gunther moved her hands away from her face and gathered her into his arms. Held against him, Hilde dropped her forehead to his shoulder and wept with agony. His hands moved in slow circles over her back. The perfume of her arousal had vanished when his hand almost settled at the base of her neck.
With great care, he brought her with him to sit upon the edge of the bed. Hilde looked at him in utter misery. In a choked voice she said, "Help me. I want to forget." The monster within Gunther chafed against his restraint. Hilde reached for him, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please," she begged. Gunther found himself unable to resist that pained, desperate plea. He grabbed her shoulders and roughly dragged her to him. As his mouth closed over hers, Hilde gave a small sigh of relief.
He kissed her until his body screamed at him to stop and breathe, and then he pushed himself for a few heartbeats longer. Winded, Hilde looked dazedly at him, that quiet anguish still haunting her eyes. That elusive scent, however, had returned. Aware that he needed to be more cunning in his tactics, Gunther slid his hands down from her face to her shoulders, carefully avoiding even a suggestion of pressure upon her throat. The soy-silk was cool beneath his hot hands as he dragged his fingertips from the nape of her neck to above her arms. Hilde's eyes rolled somewhat as a delicious shiver ran through her.
He ran his fingertips along the neckline of the gown from where it just barely sat on her shoulders to just before her throat. For a moment, Hilde froze in place. He moved his hands down to cup her breasts through the thin fabric of the gown and her shrift beneath. Hilde sighed and a measure of anxious tension eased out of her. Gunther was torn between his animalistic hunger to ravage her with all the fury that burned in his blood and deep concern that he may wound her deeper in doing so. He closed his eyes, going terribly still in his inward struggle.
Hilde took hold of his left hand and brought it up to her face. He cradled her cheek in a reflexive gesture of affection. She turned her face so that her lips pressed against the heel of his hand. Gunther felt Hilde's lips move back from her teeth and then the soft press of her teeth against the meat of his hand at the base of his thumb. It was a silent plea, one that she had made at other times, when no dark shadows lay over them. Gunther opened his eyes and looked over at her left hand. He took hold of it with his right and brought it up to his mouth.
He gave a soft snarl before biting into her hand with bruising force. Hilde gasped and started to give a cry of surprise when Gunther's left hand muffled the noise. Continuing to hold his hand over her mouth, Gunther bit her wrist and then began to make his way up her forearm. Hilde's muffled little cries of pained pleasure only made him want to do more. All thought of handling her with extreme gentleness were washed away as he pulled her into his arms and pressed her face hard to his shoulder before biting down on where her neck and shoulder met.
Hilde gave a low groan and shuddered. Gunther lifted his head, breathing hotly in her ear as he took hold of her wrists and brought them behind her back. Pinning her arms into an uncomfortable position, he dragged her with him as he leaned back onto the bed. Hilde meweled softly and squirmed sensually against him. Gunther twisted a bit of the satiny fabric on Hilde's wrists between his fingertips. Applying a bit of his Green essence, the soy-silk meshed together into one, binding Hilde's wrists together with the fabric of her dress. So restrained, Gunther rolled Hilde onto her back.
He stood up and looked down at her. Where her expression had been a mixture of fear and other things, she now wore only a look of pleasure. Gunther took the heels off of her feet and then slipped her knitted lace stockings off. He cast them aside as he moved her skirts up. He noted her panties with a scoff of annoyance. Gunther tore them off of her with a minimal amount of effort, chuckling at how Hilde shivered at the feeling.
Hilde opened her eyes to look up at him with her half drugged expression of arousal and Gunther gave a feral grin. He stepped away from the bed and Hilde's eyes widened slightly. Her pained look of need as she lay defenseless before him pleased him far more then he would have told anyone but her. The knowledge that even in her most vulnerable moments, she still hungered for him like he did for her thrilled him immensely.