Sealer of Your Fate

Chapter 8 (Explicit Content)

Her fantasies started out innocent.

After all, isn't it every fifteen year old emo girl's dream to date a demon?

But her demon was her best friend.

As she grew older though, and their bond grew even stronger, Amaris's fantasies and dreams grew more intense.

Amaris obviously couldn't help what she dreamt about. Dreams of her demon ravaging her had started some time ago, but Amaris tried to push them away. To ignore them. As time went on though, Amaris finally began to give in. She loved Chris like nothing else; they were intimate on every level except physical, so why not fantasize a bit on what the physical way would be like?

In most of Amaris's fantasies, she and Chris were in her bedroom. She imagined Chris being gentle, soft, and sweet.

Tonight, however, as she lay awake in the lighthouse, she imagined what it would have been like if she'd gotten to kiss her demon when he'd finished resiting his version of the Annabel Lee poem.

Fingers entwined, foreheads together; what would have happened if Amaris had tilted her head up just a bit sooner? Perhaps her lips would brush against his just as he was pulling away...just for him to realize what had happened, and come back for more.

He'd kiss her softly, sweetly. Chaste at first, taking his time to feel every bit of her lips with his.

"Amaris..."

Amaris fantasied about what it would be like for her to wrap her arms around his neck and run her tongue along his. In her fantasies, he tasted like black cherries and his hands gripped her waist firmly.

Maybe he'd pick her up and set her on the dresser. Amaris would wrap her legs around his torso, pulling him closer to her as their kiss intensified.

"I've wanted you for so long," Amaris would say as she bit his bottom lip.

They'd come apart and Amaris would take off her shirt, leaving her completely topless. Maybe Chris's eyes would darken, or maybe they'd glow red in the way that Amaris loved. Either way, his eyes would drink her in longingly. His hands would graze her sides, slowly going to her breasts. He'd take his time, massaging and kissing her chest, her neck; he'd make sure that Amaris felt good.

Amaris would get his shirt off too, and she'd get a great look of all of his tattoos. She'd always found Chris's tattoos to be so beautiful. Amaris wanted to run her lips over each and every one of them.

They'd spend a few minutes kissing again, as well as kissing each other's faces and necks, running their hands all over each other's bodies. Amaris would then hop off of the dresser and begin working on Chris's pants. He'd slide off her shorts, maybe slipping his fingers between her legs.

Amaris wasn't sure what it would feel like; she could only gage off of the times that she'd touched herself in the past. She imagined Chris being so much better though.

Perhaps they'd take it to the bed then. In her fantasies, Chris slipped himself inside of her seamlessly. No pain, no problems. Amaris imagined it feeling amazing, like she'd be on cloud nine. They'd move in and out of each other like it was natural, something they'd been doing a long time. It would be perfect; it would be divine...

Amaris rubbed her thighs together as she lay in bed, imagining the scenario in her mind. Meanwhile, Chris sat downstairs with his face in his hands.

He couldn't stop thinking about the imprint, and what could come about it. Why did it have to be this way? Why did it seem that Chris had virtually no options?

How could he have been so romantic with her earlier? That poem had moved something deep inside of him. The thought of how much he loved Amaris, in so many different ways, and would one day have to say goodbye to her...