Angel of Mercy - Satin Up on stage, in front of thousands of people, and yet still so far away...so alone. He scanned the crowd at his feet, mostly women, their eyes amorous, lustful. Some were beautiful and he smiled down at them, feeling powerful. He could have any one he wanted, but tonight he found no comfort in their adoring faces. Then, suddenly she appeared, like a vision in the crowd. Her green eyes shone brightly, and no matter where he moved he seem unable to escape her gaze. She swayed and sang to the music, just like the others, but unlike them, she gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. His concentration started to fail him. "By God, how is she doing this to me?" He thought. "Did I just fuck up that lyric? Dammit!" He let the others take it away, and walked off the stage for a cold drink of water and a dry towel. Standing behind the amp, he could still see her. She was not watching him, but he knew, somehow, that she could sense his stare. She quickly glanced over at him and smiled, and he could feel his throat tighten. He distracted himself with another drink. He couldn't let her get away--he had to have her. Motioning to a roadie, he instructed him to provide her with a backstage pass, then leapt back to center stage. He saw, with relief, that his wishes were carried out, and was able to finish the rest of the concert, confident in knowing that he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. After the encore, he slowly made his way backstage, disguising his anticipation from everyone else. The room was fairly crowded, and he conversed with several people, while still keeping an eye out for her. It was hard not to notice her, for when she entered the room and fixed upon him with those eyes again, everything else seemed to just fade away. He had a chance, finally, to take her in as she walked across the room toward him, swinging her blue-jean clad hips seductively. She wore a simple white button down shirt that was tied at her slim waist and open to reveal hints of a red bustier. Red, white and blue. "American Woman." He thought, smiling. Suddenly he heard Lenny Kravitz' voice screaming in his head, and shook out the thought. "Is anything wrong, Scott?" She asked, cocking her head up at him. His eyes fell upon the silver necklace at her throat, and he was suddenly consumed with a desire to graze on the tender skin of her neck. "No." He said softly, lifting his gaze back to those emerald eyes. "Everything is perfectly fine, now that you're here." She smiled, and he thought he would go crazy if he didn't have a taste of those lips soon. "Thank you for inviting me back here." She said, brushing a lock of her strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes. He seized her hand before she brought it back down, and raised it to his lips. She even smelled as beautiful as she looked. Vanilla...sweet enough to eat. "The pleasure is all mine." He said, kissing her hand. She let it linger in his grasp, lightly tracing her fingernail across his jaw and chin. "It will be." She purred. "Do you have someplace where we can get more comfortable?" He was momentarily surprised by her directness, mostly because she seemed to echo his own thoughts. Regaining his composure, he leaned down to whisper to her what hotel he was staying at, stealing a kiss just below her ear. She simply smiled and agreed to meet him there as he wrote his room number on the back of her pass. With one more sultry glance of those green eyes, she stepped away from him and the room came roaring back to life. He was disappointed, to say the least, that she wasn’t waiting for him when he arrived at his room. Perhaps it was all a dream. He undressed and stepped into the shower. And perhaps it was best if she didn’t come after all. He was tired, so very tired, and women sometimes…well, sometimes they expected quite a performance from him. Always take and never give. They left him feeling so empty inside, sometimes he just wanted nothing to do with them. Othertimes, he couldn’t sleep at night without someone by his side. He sighed and closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind. It was another one of those nights, and he wished for her to come soon. A knock at the bathroom door startled him. The concierge announced from the other side that his guest and champagne had arrived. Scott thanked him and quickly finished his bathing; excited at the prospect of seeing her again. He considered throwing on a robe, but why the formalities? So with a towel wrapped around his waist, he exited the bathroom to greet his “guest”. Unprepared for what he saw, he stopped short and stared at what lay before him. Not only had she already helped herself to the champagne, but was laying on the bed in a very seductive pose, wearing only the red bustier he saw peeking out from her shirt earlier, a matching red satin thong, and red satin gloves.  Feeling his desire starting to swell as he gazed at her, she smiled at him, swirling her glass before lifting it to her lips. “You’re late.” Said Scott, regaining the power of speech. “Really?” She replied, refilling the glass before rising from the bed. “It looks to me like I’m right on time.” Her eyes settled on the bulge at the front of his towel, which was growing with every step she took toward him. He felt powerless again, trapped in that gaze, and despite his eagerness, he could not bring himself to move. She stood; mere inches from him, and slowly ran one gloved hand over his stomach and the cool champagne glass across his chest. He closed his eyes and shivered; her touch felt heavenly. He longed to throw her down on the bed and have his way with her--damn, he wanted to do that from the first time he saw her--but still felt paralyzed. Maybe he was just too tired for this. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, an apology beginning to form on his lips. She silenced him with one finger on his mouth. "I know you're tired, Scott." She whispered. "If you really want me to leave, I will." He shook his head. Her leaving was the last thing he wanted. She smiled and continued. "Then just let me take care of you. I know exactly what you need. Besides, you've already given quite a performance tonight." She handed him the glass, which he downed quickly and set aside the dresser. She slid her hands down his arms and, holding his hands gently in hers, led him to the bed and laid him down, plucking off his towel on the way. Sitting next to him on the bed, she traced his features with her fingers before leaning down to kiss his lips softly. He lifted his right arm up and buried his fingers in her hair, pressing her lips harder against his and parting open her mouth with his tongue. She murmured and returned the kiss, sliding her tongue over his, before pulling away and pushing his arm back down. "Just relax." She purred into his ear. "Don't make me tie you down." He grinned wickedly at the thought. She sat back and slowly began caressing his entire body with her hands. Her touch was so tender, so electric, and the feel of that satin as it slid across his skin was exquisite. She knew just where and how to touch him, making him quiver and moan, exciting him and relaxing him at the same time. He could really get used to this "being taken care of". She leaned over him and followed her hands with her lips, kissing and licking her way down his firm stomach, pausing briefly at his stiffened member, first sliding a gloved hand, then her lips over it, causing him to groan and grip the sheets tightly. She continued down his legs, throwing her leg over his hips to straddle him as she did so. He released his grip on the bed, and reached up to caress and admire her firm, rounded backside. Sliding a hand between her thighs, he massaged her through her panties. She murmured and sat up, looking at him over her shoulder. Reaching down between his legs, she slid her hands over his balls and shaft. He was more than ready for her, and she knew it, for she raised herself up, and pushing her thong to the side, sat herself down on him. Once he was fully inside of her, she began to rock back and forth, slowly sliding him in and out. He growled and held onto her hips, pressing his fingers into her flesh. Although this position was not new to him, she felt like nothing he'd ever had before. She moved on top of him, continuing to caress the insides of his thighs, and he could feel her long hair brush against his legs as she leaned over to afford him a deeper thrust. They moved slowly, with her setting the pace, allowing him to relax and enjoy these new sensations. He shut his eyes tight, his mind drifted as he allowed her to set him free. Soon, however, reality came crashing back down and he could hold back no longer. Pulling at her hips gently, he coaxed her to an upright position. She leaned her head back, tickling his chest with her hair, and began to quicken the pace. Feeling the energy finally to take control, he reached for her arms and pulled them back, holding those satin-gloved hands behind her back as he lifted his hips to slam into her. She moaned his name, twisting her hands in an attempt to escape his grasp. He held fast. As much as he wanted her to touch him over and over, he needed to end the sweet torture, he needed the release. She stopped struggling and simply groaned as he pushed into her as deep as he could with each stroke until he came, holding there as he filled her. His orgasm triggered hers, and he could feel her clench around him, draining him, as she came with a cry. He was satisfied to know it wasn’t all for his own pleasure. She climbed off him and turned around to kneel next to him and slowly peel off her gloves. Cupping his face in her warm hands, she leaned over him and brushed her lips softly over his. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue overtake him once again. He tried to fight it; afraid she would leave if he gave in to sleep. Her hands were as soft as the satin as she massaged his temples and whispered against his lips. “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you awake.” Those were the last words he remembered before he succumbed. Creed Fanfic Page Satin, Part 2 Copyright TMS2003   page created with Webpage Designer (NS)