The room is densely perfumed with the intoxicating smoke of the cannabis cigarette she grasps so delicately in the silver vice. Her mouth caresses the end as with rising panic she draws the velvet vapours into her lungs. She is desperate for calm, for peace that seems to have evaded her in so long. The heavy, silver backed brush that she had been rhythmically drawing through her midnight tresses lies idle now her fingers flutteringly caressing the smooth coolness of its handle. Brushing her hair has in the past pacified her but not tonight. Her thoughts thrash caught within the net of imagination, images found then lost in a seemingly endless cycle. But within the frenzied gallery a portrait seems to emerge, a brush, a tremor of fledgling wings which unfurl into solid colour. One that is constant and in a sudden rush of understanding she realises for the last months has been eternal. There are always eyes, brown eyes, intense, captivating, somewhat lacking in the usual warmth but their honest coolness is like a balm promising, offering protection and release.

Electricity in the air from the coming storm sparks against her pale skin which vibrates with trapped energy, every hair seems to stretch out with a yearning, physical want. Suddenly the room, the scene of so many conflicts but also a haven seems to shrink in on her, trapping her and yet she has an anchor. The brown eyes in which lurk an image her bruised mind refuses to fully acknowledge and yet holds no horror for her, cocoons her seeming to caress her heightened senses

The burning brand flutters from her lips that have suddenly dried landing into the cooled, spiced tea she has failed to drink. Her lips, dry with skin as delicate as bible pages speak a word like a benediction, a prayer, his name.

"Ethan."

It is said on a breath lacking the usual deep timbre of her own voice. A sigh, escaping moth like from her trembling lips full of wanting. It seems to hang, glowing in grey tendrils in front of her like a question that can only be answered by need.

The brown eyes, his brown eyes are the only image her mind sees but it is not enough. Her own eyes opaque now with silent longing ache now to see them in front of her. To look deep into their depths through the translucent umber into his very soul. To discover whether the sudden burning need is reflected back at her.

For a moment she is undone by the realisation of her own feelings and the fact that he has not appeared already. However she is grateful. As much as she is fascinated by the darkness in him it is the light, that tiny but incandescent flame that she is drawn to, the twin of her own that she requires tonight. There could be time enough for them to explore their beasts if the future allows it. But there is only the now, the future does not exist for her, for him, for them tonight.

She finds herself standing, moving with graceful purpose towards the door. Her feet glide over the floor silently seeking, her skin hyper sensitive to the textures beneath them. She feels drawn like a helpless insect ecstatically caught by the lush scent of nectar.

It is in that moment she knows that in the rooms below her he too is aware of the change in the atmosphere. His glass has been laid down the honey harshness of the bourbon he favours flavouring the air around him smooth on his tongue coating his lips. He too is moving lupine like, his long, lithe but deceptively powerful body responding to her unspoken siren call.

"I come"

It is unsaid and consciously unthought but it resounds in the charged air around her as she travels ethereally along the gloom of the corridor. The image of liquid brown eyes fills her and yet behind she senses a building rage, tearing at the masterpiece with claws trying to rend it into tatters. A flash of burning red behind the brown, she gasps her hands flutter to her throat but she is safe at the top of the stairs. The horror is quelled for now. He is there.

He is standing poised, expectant his brown eyes raised to hers, his face expressionless and yet the emotion is tangible between them it exists like a living breathing thing. She stops halted by the sheer manliness of him. The image of brown eyes superseded by the actual living orbits, that even over the distance captivate and hold her in thrall.

The brown never leave the blue as he ascends. At the last second she steps aside as if to give him the gentlemanly choice of passing her by to claim the sanctity of his own room. But he stops as she knew he would, drawn to her as a moth to a flame. Her eyes burn deeply into his, which shine with questions in their very depth. The attraction radiates off him and her soul seems to almost emerge from her physical being reaching out for his.

Without thinking she raises a hand to cup his face her palm brushing the sharp curves of his cheekbones, grazed by the stubble that cloaks his cheeks. Her fingertips bury into the denseness of his hair and those windows of brown close, just for a second as a quiver runs through him. It is as if a spark in her has been transferred skin to skin to his essential being.

Then suddenly it is as if her mind shatters into half. She sees herself break the contact of his living flesh and move away to descend the stairs and in another place she screams with frustration at her lack of fortitude her cowardliness. But the other part of her mind, her true self holds firm to the anchor of his eyes. Her fingertips caress deeper grazing his scalp as finally his own warm hand snakes around, under the sable silk of her robe to rest burning against her linen shielded hip. His eyes become molten but never leave her gaze as slowly almost without moving he lowers his lips to hers.

His kiss so gentle seems to slam into her very core. His lips brushing almost imperceptivity over hers awaken in her a deep seated passion that is not fierce but stronger than iron. Her other hand raises to the back of his head increasing the pressure so the kiss deepens. The taste of him, a mix of the bourbon, wood smoke and the faintest coppery tang of blood is intoxicating and a moan escapes her lips opening her mouth under his seeking kiss. His tongue dips between her lips finding her own and exploring her as she yields completely to his domination. The pressure on her hip increases and is joined by his other hand now tangling into her hair pulling her deep into the sanctity of the hardness of his body. Her hand flutters down from the warmth of his cheek her fingers curling into the smoothness of his cotton shirt. She feels his heart beating in time with her own a rhythmic thudding that seems familiar. She is overcome by him, totally under his spell and yet safe. His lover's kiss possesses her body and mind and her soul feels akin to his. After what seems eons he frees her mouth to trail a line of fire down over her cheek descending, the tip of his tongue laving the soft flesh of her neck until his swollen mouth rests of the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder.

Her name vibrates against her heated skin his cool breath causing the tiny hairs to quiver. She draws back to lock her gaze back onto those brown eyes fierce now with passion. Her want and need for him is reflected back at her and yet there is no triumph in them. His liquid eyes glow with pride and adoration, not the slavish look of an enchanted man but the utter confidence of an alpha male claiming his mate.

Her fingers tighten round his shirt as suddenly she feels boneless held in that feral observance. His eyes burn brighter and then as if in answer to her unspoken request he sweeps her effortlessly into his arms snatching her into the muscles of his chest that heaves almost as if his heart could break out through his ribs. Her gasp is smothered by the decent of his mouth again onto hers almost bruising in its intensity. As he breaks the kiss he begins to stride towards down the corridor as her fingers pluck at the buttons of his shirt and undershirt, laying his smooth collar bone open to the play of her lips and tongue. Her mouth curves into a slight smile as she hears what could only be described as a growl emanate from this throat.

"Christ Vanessa I could take you here and now!"

His voice throbs causing the sudden pooling of liquid between her thighs which jerk together in need.

He stops as he reaches a door his large hands making quick work of opening it. They are through, and he takes two steps into the shadowy chamber before letting her slip from his arms. Never breaking the contact of her wild eyes he backs towards the door the click as it closes sounds like the sealing of some kind of otherworldly contract. The space between them is cool and silent and yet his eyes, those brown eyes bind her to him and even though not one part of their physical being touches yet their minds and souls cleave together so completely she is not bereft.

He finally breaks the gaze as his eyes trace down her body.

Then he lifts them back to hers.

"Take off your robe darlin'."