31_days | [Nov 23rd] [original] Make Me Forget

Title: Make Me Forget
Day/Theme: 23. their ragged breathing the only sound
Series: original : Silver&Auburn
Character/Pairing: Kayrenn of Keriann, Leyn Celenn, Nevey Celenn
Rating: NC-17

Gasps and moans filled the room as two bodies moved as one, sweaty and entangled.

”Leyn,” Kay gasped, her abundant auburn locks were strewn under her head, her green eyes looking up, dilated and filled with unrestrained passion, at her husband.

She was still a little lost in the way her body moved, the way it felt, the jiggling of her her curves, the moistness and insistent throbbing at the apex of her thighs, it still felt so new, so strange but yet not unpleasant. It was different from before, from times which were already fading a little but which she still craved to have back, from the burn and friction of a body which did not get moist with anticipation, at least not where it should have, even if this body was... easier in ways that did matter, it was still who Kay continued to be, inside. Even when what she felt now was beyond merely being fine. It was fantastic, the way her princely husband made love to her but... And then it was everything.

Leyn leaned closer his wife, pressing kisses to her exposed bosom, her breasts heavy with milk, plump and round. He made Kay gasp in response, arch her back and moan, press tighter against him, flex and almost make her husband undone right then and there. His hair was not falling over Kay, as she had grown accustomed to, in the long years they had been together. A lot had changed since those first heated kisses and hands touching all over. The short-cropped shadowy blonde hair which Leyn now had its own charms, Kay had had to admit. Running her fingers through it now, not really focusing on the action itself because Leyn inside of her, it was greatly distracting, bristling against her fingertips, keeping her focused, focused on the passion her husband gave her, not the body itself which experienced it.

“Shh,” Leyn murmured, his hands now holding her body closer as he thrust into her, in and out, in a slow languid rhythm, burying his head into the crook of her neck, kissing her there, having moved up from the mounds of her chest. “Keep... it down, the baby...”

Kay's body undulated underneath Leyn's, each thrust bringing her closer and closer to completion, the rapturous moment of pure unadulterated pleasure. The sheets rustled beneath them as they strove to keep their voices down, all too conscious of the fact that any type of noise could wake up the baby, even a too high-pitched moan or a too growling a gasp.

“I...” Kay gasped, breathless, her voice ragged, low and close to what she had sounded before... before. She had no idea why she was so distracted now. Why she was slipping, why her body seemed so foreign now, so unfamiliar. “I... make me forget...” she murmured as quietly as she could, throwing her head back as Leyn's kisses ravaged her neck, her heart racing wildly,”... otherwise, I can't, can't... make me forget...”

Leyn did. He made love to her so tenderly yet with an edge to it, that Kay forgot who she was. She forgot how her body had looked, how it was supposed to look, forgot that it should not have been moist folds which welcomed Leyn's pleasurable intrusion into her body, forgot that there used to be times when the prince had taken his time preparing her, then a him, with skilled eager slicked fingers, the anticipation of the act almost as thrilling as the release. She forgot it all, forgot herself, the world, forgot all else but Leyn moving in and out of Kay's body, in and out, until something snapped and she came.

In that moment, floating in the sea of post-coital languidness, Kay was no-one, nothing but pleasure made flesh. All sense of self was gone, and Kay was just Kay, neither man nor woman.

Her scream of passion, which she could not prevent from getting out, was swallowed in Leyn's kiss, her body slumped under his, sated. Eyes closed, she swam in the haze of the tiny ripples of passion still tingling about her, gasping as Leyn moved against her, rubbing and rubbing, stroking the nexus of her pleasure. Soon he filled her and she was lost again, and as she swallowed his ragged gasp of release, so he took hers in their kiss.

Leyn's weight on Kay, him pressing against her body, over her splayed legs, was a comfort. Yet it was also a curse. Because of late, Kay had begun to think over how peculiar it was, after all, that Leyn had found such easy pleasure in her body, and continued to do so, even when she herself never was completely satisfied with living inside of it. It was too different, even with all her own dalliances with dresses and the like and the very facts of her disguise during their escape from the Kingdom of Silvery Hills. Now they were back, and Kay had no reason for disguises, both of them being welcomed in the wake of the late king Huren's death, and because gowns now fitted her body.

She cried.

Kay's husband's hands were around her in an instant and she was enveloped in them, in a sweet warm loving embrace.

“Did I make you forget ?” Leyn whispered into her ear, his hands like brands on her naked back, his sweat and slickness against her front almost too much, what was missing from it all nigh unbearable to Kay. “Don't cry, love.”

Kay let her head stay buried in the crook of Leyn's neck, let herself be embraced by her husband, be comforted by him, grounded by him. Yet something was terribly missing and the gnawing feeling, the terrible not-belonging, was suddenly eating her up. She wanted rid of the sticky feeling down her thighs, the way her chest was pressed and smashed against the flat planes of Leyn's chest. If it all would have been gone, Kay would have been infinitely happy.

“I... it's too much, Leyn,” she confessed, unable to quench her tears. “I do not wish to be like this,” Kay did not have to elaborate, for both of them knew what she was referring to. “Why can't I be who I was before?” She sobbed, burying herself against Leyn, clinging to her husband.

Her words hovered between them. They would have been better left unsaid, for neither of them had any answer to Kay's dilemma. Kay knew that there were some things she would not have given up for the world, even if they had come about only because she had been changed, her body transformed in a blinding flash of pain and blood. She had undergone something she never would have dreamed about, she had fallen pregnant with her and Leyn's child and had given birth to their precious miracle child some months ago. She was sleeping now in a cot not many feet away from their bed, the reason they had had to keep quiet during their amorous activities. As much as Kay hated being as she was now, especially as of late, she would not give up her daughter for the world. She was the only spark of light in an otherwise gloomy situation.

“I do not have the answer to that, my sweetest Kay” the prince murmured softly, burying his face into her abundant red curls. “You know that I've always loved you, no matter how you look.”

Kay's sobs reduced into sniffled and she closed her eyes, pretending that she did not feel out of sorts within her skin, even when that was all she did. “I know, my love, you have proven that once and again, yet I cannot feel natural in this flesh,” she admitted, her voice hoarse from the crying, sounding more like her original self, not the soft feminine tone, which had come with Kay's transformation. “I have never really entirely comfortable with it, it has been getting worse lately.”

That was the moment when their daughter began to fuss, first making small mumbling sounds, smacks with her lips, a tiny whimper to begin with, escalating to a much louder wail. Leyn had no time to get into the matter of Kay's distress, for his daughter, their daughter, needed her mother.

Kay's body responded, as it would, and she felt the heaviness of her milk-filled breasts acutely, the milk dribbling a little already, just by the cry of her daughter.

“I'll get her,” Leyn said softly, extricating his limbs from those of his wife, leaving her on the bed. He crossed the distance to the cot, the moonlight streaming from a gap in between the heavy curtains covering their windows dancing over his naked skin.

Next thing Kay knew, she had her hands full of her daughter, her little miracle, their little Nevey. The baby soon latched onto Kay's nipple and began to suckle eagerly, quickly relieving the pressure Kay felt. As her daughter fed, Kay stroked Nevey's little head.

“Only for her,” she murmured softly, smiling as Leyn's hand joined hers, their daughter laying on the body between the two of them.

“I know,” Leyn said, “and I am sorry. I wish I could help you more.”

Kay cradled the infant to her bosom, comforting herself with the thought that the three of them were a little family. A family Kay never could have hoped for, when she had fallen in love with Leyn. For never had two men been able to conceive, however much they tried. With how eagerly Kay and Leyn had found pleasure in each others bodied, they should have been knee-deep in babies. Yet, they had not been. They had been content, happy, married and in love, even if running from Leyn's father the king. Until that one fateful night when Kay had woken up screaming, their bed bathed in blood, Kay's body twisting and transforming.

In time, as Kay had remained as she was, there had been Nevey. The baby which would never had been born had Kay remained as she had been. Even as much as Kay loved her daughter, she still wished that the transformation would be reversed. Fearing it never would be. Nevey and Leyn were her only anchors to sanity.

“Just love me and never leave me,” Kay asked, once more on the verge of tears again.

Leyn leaned closer to kiss her tenderly. “I will always love you and will never leave you.”

With that, Kay knew she would survive through another day, only to need reassuring, much reassuring and oblivion, the very next night, as always.