I Wanted Him

“You have to push harder!” John’s voice yells into my ears for the millionth time that day and I want to scream. “You’re not trying hard enough!” He huffs, pushing his hair back on his sweaty forehead. I had given up trying to respond to his demands so I clench my teeth and continue to kick at the punching bag, my eyes narrowed in focus. I throw a backhand and he laughs.

“What the hell was that for? That was a good kick,” I suddenly burst out. I stop kicking and stare at him, my eyes piercing through his skin like fire.

“Is that seriously all you got?” He puts his hands on his hips and just shakes his head. I want to grab a handful of his stupid hair into my fist and pull. “You’re so weak Gwen.” His words bite at my skin and I flinch back. “There is a full-on war going on out there and if you are not ready then we are going to lose the most important information in the world.”

“So you think I’m going to die out there basically?” I spit the words out at him, sparing all control from my voice. I didn’t care about what he thought about me. I was tired of hiding behind my eyelashes and blushing into my cheeks. He could think whatever he wanted about me and I am not going to care. I am a wall made of stone. A fire-breathing dragon.

He looks me up and down carefully with his gorgeous green eyes and I hate him. I hate him for drinking in my body with his gaze. Helping himself to whatever he wanted without even laying a hand on me. He saunters closer and I can see his lips more closely now and I have the sudden urge to reach out and touch them.

“Those are your words, not mine,” he says quietly, but in my head, it is screamed at the top of his lungs. My blood is boiling in my veins.

I am fire.

I can feel his hot breath against my skin and I realize he is as angry as I am. He is angry at me for being weak. Angry at the world for falling apart. Angry at Xeno for taking his chance at making it better. He licks his lips and closes his eyes and I can’t stop staring at him. His strong cheekbones and the jawline that clenches when he's frustrated. His dimple below his eye that I’m sure only I have noticed because it only shows up when he laughs really hard. The way he smells like a pine forest and a smoky fire all at the same time even when he’s sweaty like right now.

He flicks his eyes open and I breathe in quickly. I can see a galaxy inside of them.

“Gwen.” His voice is low and husky and I just want him to say my name again and again just like that.

“What?”

“What are you going to do?” I realize our noses are only a few inches apart now and I can’t breathe.

“The question is...what are you going to do?” I breathe these words as a whisper.

My back is suddenly against the wall and his hands are on my wrists, pinning me there. His mouth is against mine, hungry, hungry for my skin. I gasp as he wraps his teeth around my neck, pinching my skin until it's pink. His hands run up and down my body and I shiver in ecstasy. I reach up to his hair and tug on it hard, pulling his head back to expose his neck. I send kisses down his skin until I reach his chest and I bite hard, scratching his back with my nails at the same time. A strangled moan escapes his lips and I can see an intense look in his eyes. All of a sudden we're on the ground, my back laying against one of the practice mats and his weight pressed against me. His breath is hot, heaving against me like he had been running a mile. I could feel the fire in his veins through his skin. He pulls at the flimsy material of my pants and for once I am glad that they haven't given me anything good to wear here. I shimmy out of them as fast as I can, grabbing at every bit of his skin I can feel. I bite at his ear and he curses, struggling with the buttons on his pants.

He can't contain himself much longer.

I hate myself for loving this. I hate myself for savoring the feeling of his skin against mine and the fire that is exploding beneath my veins. I hated the way he pulled at my hair and slapped the soft skin of my backside until it stung. I hated the way he bit my lip and pulled it back until I moaned into his mouth.

I hated it so much that I was loving it.

He's still struggling with his buttons and I reach up and rip them off his pants, sending them flying across the room, tinging against the mirror behind us. He pulls off the rest of his pants and then suddenly he's slipping inside of me. I clench my eyes shut and gripped the edge of the mat, biting back a loud moan that I know could be heard around the compound. He leans into me, thrusting against me harder and harder with a force that's rooted in something far greater than his lust for me. His eyes give away that he is still angry and I can feel it coursing through him and bleeding into me. I gasp and clutch his back with my fingers, sending scratch marks all the way down his spine. His presence is so overwhelming, I feel it deeply and I wish that he was somehow further inside of me, bleeding into me, intertwining his soul with mine. He curses loudly and then all at once the tension is gone, dissipating from his body and taking my tension with it. I relax my head back on the mat, breathing heavily.

He stands up and dresses quickly, regaining his composure. I get up slowly, putting my pants back on, my eyes trained on his body. He looks at me for a breath and then leaves the room, leaving me standing there alone, my cheeks flushed and my hair in a tangled mess. All the anger that had once been bottled up into my chest was gone and it was replaced with a strange yearning feeling, sitting at the bottom of my stomach.

I wanted him.