I Give My Heart To You

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yugioh or the characters therein.

WARNINGS*** This story contains Yaoi (men having sex with men) as well as shouenen-ai (male/ male relationships). It also contains male/ female sex and relationships with references to female/ female sex and relationships, (a little something for everyone) swearing, violence, references to rape, guns and all sorts of other facts of life people find offensive. If you are offended by any of these things or simply do not like to read about it then leave now; you have been warned and read at your own risk.

CHAPTER WARNING**THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SETO/AMARA LEMON**

“Indicates normal speech of course”
{Yugi’s thoughts either to himself or Yami
{{Yami’s thought’s either to himself or Yugi}}
[Ryou’s thoughts to himself or Bakura]
[[Bakura’s thoughts to himself or to Ryou]]
*Person on the other end of the phone*
‘Thoughts of persons without a yami’

AUTHOR’S NOTE- Sorry for the long delay in update here readers, blame hurricanes Francis and Ivan. And also I have in my story mention an evil named the Heart of Darkness, it is not the same reference that is in bakurasgirl’s story The Yami Virus.

MY HEART I GIVE TO YOU
By Terra
Chapter 23


Amara turned away from the window in Tristan’s hospital room and the view of the park she had been staring at for the past half hour to the two teens asleep on the sofa. Yami and she had finally convinced to to lie down for a few minutes, and he fell asleep in less than three minutes, with the spirit cuddled up next to him. Amara’s smile faded when she looked over to the other sleeping form in the room. Tristan had woken up a few times during the night, but for no longer than a couple of minutes.

Seto had gone home in the early morning hours to get Mokuba off to school then go in himself. Ryou and Yugi had opted to go as well, with Bakura tagging alone in the ring to protect them. Otogi had driven them home with the promise to bring them back to the hospital at the end of the day; he had decided to go to his shop and bury himself in paperwork.

Seto had called Amara’s cell phone right before classes started to ask if the doctors had anything new to say, and to see if Tristan’s parents had shown up. No, on both counts.

Tristan shifted in the bed and groaned. Amara hurried over and gently touched his shoulder. “Tristan, I’m right here,” she said softly.

“Thirsty,” he coughed slightly.

The nurse had been in earlier that morning to check his vitals, and she had given Amara some basic instructions on helping Tristan drink and eat with his sensitive throat. She got him some water then sat beside him on the bed when he had finished. She held his hand in hers and reached to brush his hair from his face. She was surprised when he flinched away from her touch.

“Tristan, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t,” he muttered.

“Don’t what, handsome?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not...not anymore!”

Tristan broke into a fit of coughing; his throat strained by the force of his outburst. His coughing woke Joey and Yami, but before they could say anything, Amara motioned for them to remain silent. She waited for the coughing to subside then handed Tristan another drink.

“Why do you think that, Tristan?”

“I’m hideous, burned. That word doesn’t describe me anymore,” his voice hitched, but Amara didn’t know if it was the pain of speaking or the pain of the thought which caused it. “I can’t even fucking see how bad it is either. I’m blind and no fucking body is telling me a god damned thing!”

Amara sat back down on the edge of the bed and took Tristan’s hand. “What do you want to know?”

He took a deep breath. “H-how bad is it?”

“Well,” she reached up and run the end of his singed shark fin through her fingers. “Your hair is singed, but a hair cut will fix that. You’ll have a smaller fin for a while, but you scalp is fine and you don’t have any bald places.”

Tristan nodded. “That’s good at least,” he lifted his bandaged hands, silently as.
.

“You have first degree burns on your arms, like a sunburn. You have first degree and second degree burn you your hands. The doctor said you may have some scarring from those but the burns weren’t deep enough to need skin grafts. You may have to have physical therapy to get full range of motion back in your hands, but you WILL have perfect use of your hands again.”

Tristan nodded again but remained silent. Joey shifted on the sofa as if to get up, but stopped when Amara shook her head. Tristan had yet to ask the most frightening question of all.

“M-my eyes...”

Amara briefly closed hers and swallowed. “They don’t know. Your eyelids have first degree burns, and there is a lot of soft tissue swelling on your eyes. They don’t know how bad the damage is and they won’t be able to tell until the swelling goes down and a specialist can check them out.”

“How...how long until...?” Tristan’s voice quavered as he tried to ask the question.

“They can’t say how long it will be before the swelling goes down.”

The room was silent for several seconds then a heart wrenching sob came from the injured teen. Amara released Tristan’s hands, shifting on the bed to cradle his head to her chest. She stroked his hair and softly murmured to him as he cried. Joey was silently crying in Yami’s arms, wishing it was he lying bandaged in that bed instead of the man he loved with all his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tristan Taylor, I swear to the four corners of the high heavens you are the most stubborn man ever put on this Earth! You have got to eat!”

“Don’t like hospital food.”

Having his eyes bandaged didn’t stop the brunet from glowering at Amara, and the fact that he couldn’t see her, didn’t stop the red head from glowering right back at him. Those two facts alone had everyone else in the room nearly doubled over in laughter.

“It’s not hospital food,” she argued.

“Liar.”

Amara blinked at him. “I am not!” she said heatedly. “Joey already ate that stuff twenty minutes ago.”

“He dead yet?”

“What are you talking about, man? It was pretty good for a hospital milk shake.” Joey had a grin from ear to ear.

“What!” Tristan sat up in the bed, cocking his head towards the blond.

“Calm down, it was one of those protein shake things that taste like crap,” Amara picked up the bowl and spoon from the tray. “This on the other hand is an easy on the throat complete meal made by Tessa.”

Tristan cautiously opened his mouth and Amara popped a small spoonful inside. She nearly laughed at the surprised expression on the brunet’s face. “That’s pretty good.”

“Really?” Joey grabbed an extra spoon and reached for the bowl. He yelped, snatching his hand back when Amara slapped it none too gently.

“Tessa made this for Tristan. You can have the leftovers IF there are any,” she fed another mouthful to the brunet, ignoring the blond’s pout. “Go filch some of Bakura’s pepperoni pizza.”

“I like living,” the blond mumbled, flopping back down in his spot on the sofa.

Dr. Ersoy walked into the room amidst the laughter, followed by an older doctor and a nurse. They waited patiently, chatting with everyone while Tristan to finished his meal then the nurse took his vitals, marking them on his medical chart. When she had left, the group of teens gathered anxiously around the two doctors, hoping for some good news on their friend.

“Tristan, this is Dr. Paris,” Dr. Ersoy made introductions. “He is the leading burn specialist here at Domino Hospital, and is here to check your hands and face.”

Tristan nodded, chewing his lip nervously and extended his hands. Dr. Paris carefully removed the bandages. “Tell me if anything I do causes you pain. I’m not here to hurt you, and if you tell me when something I do hurts, it’ll give me a better idea of the damage.”

“O-okay.”

He carefully examined each hand in turn. He moved each joint, closely watching Tristan’s face for signs of pain. When finished, he made several notes in Tristan’s medical chart. Dr. Ersoy patiently answered any questions the group of friends had while his colleague finished with his notes.

“How long is Tristan going to have to stay in the hospital, Dr. Ersoy?” Mokuba asked.

“I’d like to know the answer to that myself,” came a harsh voice from the doorway.

Everyone in the room turned to the couple that had just walked in. The man had an angry look about him, and the woman looked extremely worried.

“Hi, Dad,” Tristan said.

Amara’s eyes went wide. She didn’t know what she had been expecting in Tristan’s parents, but this was not it by any means.

The couple stood next to Dr. Ersoy with an expectant look. The doctor cleared his throat then began. “Tristan can leave this weekend, unless there are some unforeseen complications. He is no longer on oxygen, his throat is doing well, and his burns are healing nicely. The swelling in his eyes will need time to go down but there is no reason for him to remain in the hospital for that.”

“How long will he be blind?”

“That is hard to say Mrs. Taylor. Each case is different, but based on the burns Tristan has around his eyes, it shouldn’t be very long.”

Tristan’s father glared at the floor, and his mother fidgeted with the flap of her coat pocket. While they had been talking Dr. Paris had cleaned and rebandaged Tristan’s hands. Amara watching the entire procedure intently.

“I’ll have a nurse come in and administer your eye drops and clean your facial burns,” he said, rising from the bed. He clasped Tristan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry young man; you’ll have full range of motion back in your hands in about four weeks or less once you start therapy, if you work at it.”

Tristan mumbled a quiet thank you.

“Now, just who are you?” Mr. Taylor demanded.

“I am Dr. Paris, department head of the burn unit here at the hospital. Dr. Ersoy asked me to come in on your son’s case as a consultant,” he handed Tristan’s father his business card. “If you have any questions regarding your son’s burn injuries or treatment, please feel free to contact my office and we can set up an appointment for you. I need to get back to my office and my other patients. Good afternoon.”

Tristan’s father shoved the card into his pocket without so much as a glance as Dr. Paris exited the room. Seto glanced knowingly to Yami, it was obvious to both teens Dr. Paris had not been impressed with the reaction of Tristan’s parents, neither were they.

Tristan’s mother turned her attention to Dr. Ersoy while her husband tried to stare a hole through the floor. “What kind of care will he need until this is over with?”

Dr. Ersoy sighed. He had met unconcerned parents before, and he knew he would never get used to their callous attitude. “He will need to return daily to the hospital burn unit or to my office for bandage changes and a brief eye check to determine the amount of swelling. My office is located on the eight floor and the burn unit on the fifth. After the determination has been made on the condition of his eyes, he may need more treatment,” Dr. Ersoy cast a glance towards Seto. “I will give you my office business card as well in case you have questions, but right now I am late for a staff meeting. Good afternoon.”

Dr. Ersoy left after a few quiet thanks from the gathered teens. There were a few moments of tense silence in the room before Tristan’s father spoke up.

“Okay, what did you do to land yourself here in the hospital blind and half crippled?”

Several astonished gasps were heard at the man’s harsh tone, and Joey’s face went red with rage. Otogi had a tight grip on the blond’s arm, while Ryou placed a hand on Bakura’s chest, telling his darker half to reframe from killing Tristan’s father through the mind link. The only outward reaction from the thief was a slight narrowing of his eyes, which were burning a deep blood red. Only Amara noticed Tristan cringe at his father’s cold, words. Seto shot a hard glare at the group of outraged friends, telling them to remain silent. There was something he wanted to find out about Tristan’s life, and now was the perfect opportunity.

“I was trying to find out what was wrong with my bike and missed a crack in the end of the fuel line.”

“I thought you were a better mechanic than that.”

“It was dark...”

“Excuses aren’t going to solve anything now. Are they?” his father snapped, making the boy cringe again.

Bakura took a step foreword. Ryou’s eyes glazed over again as he pleaded with his yami to calm down. Joey shook with suppressed rage. The most surprising reaction was from Yugi. The diminutive duelist had fury flashing in his amethyst eyes.

“I just don’t know what we are going to do,” Tristan’s mother pulled a cell phone from her pocket then shoved it back in again. “Your sister is having a lot of trouble with her pregnancy, and I have to be there to help her. And your father has his work. I guess we could hire a nurse or housekeeper for the duration.”

“I can’t afford a twenty-four hour babysitter,” Mr. Taylor glared at the wall.

Amara narrowed her eyes at the man and shot a look in Seto’s direction. The CEO’s face was a blank mask but his eyes were enough to make any man run.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan muttered.

“Be a man about it,” his father snapped.

Tristan jerked as if he had been hit. Yami and Otogi each had one of Joey’s arms, restraining the blond, with Mokuba standing on the sofa behind him with both his hands clamped over the blond’s mouth. Rage was blazing in his amber eyes. Yami was holding Yugi against him, a hand clamped over the small duelist’s mouth. Ryou stood with fists clenched, looking very much like his yami, who had suddenly vanished. Amara and Seto exchanged looks. He nodded slightly to her and shot a fast glance to Tristan.

“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, Tristan can stay with us,” she offered politely. “It would be no imposition.”

Mr. Taylor fixed his hard gaze on the slight girl. “And just who is this ‘us’?”

Seto stepped up to the man, eyes narrowed. “‘Us’ happens to be Amara and Seto Kaiba.” Tristan’s mother’s eyes went momentarily wide, and his father’s expression mirrored the CEO’s.

Amara stepped between them, smiling. “We have room, and we can see to it that he has his medications on time and makes it to his appointments, and there will always be someone available to assist with anything he may need.”

There was a glare-off between Seto and Mr. Taylor for several moments.

“It would solve all our problems, Ray,” Mrs. Taylor pointed out, laying a placating hand on her husband’s arm. “It would be easier to keep this unpleasantness from Summer too, doing it this way.”

“Tristan...” his father left the question hanging.

“I stay there a lot on the weekends anyway; I know the place pretty well,” the young man took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t mind staying there so you and mother wouldn’t have to disrupt your routines.”

The hurt and sarcasm in Tristan’s voice was completely lost on his parents but not his friends.

“That’s fine with me then,” Mr. Taylor checked his watch. “I need to get back to work.” Without another word, or so much as a backward glance, Ray Taylor left his son’s hospital room.

“You know your father, Tristan. He doesn’t like taking off from work for any reason,” Mrs. Taylor moved a step closer to the door. “I’ll have to get back to your sister on the weekend, and you can come by Saturday to get whatever you need for your visit with your friends. Goodbye,” she hurried out the door after her husband.

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence, not knowing what to say to their friend. How could parents be so uncaring about their son being blinded, burned, and in the hospital? Joey could easily empathize with the brunet, but it was Amara who wrapped her arms around him.

“I am so sorry you have to deal with parents like that,” she murmured.

Tristan leaned into her embrace. “Now you know why I love you so much; you’re the sister they took from me.”

“You mean they won’t even tell her?” Mokuba asked. Tristan shook his head.

“Well, I’d damn well want to know if my brother was hurt!” fire flashed in Mokuba’s grey eyes.

“Yeah, me too. I mean if Serenity was hurt I’d want to know. You know?”

“They won’t tell her because Mom won’t want her getting upset. Dad will just go along with it.”

“Tristan, would she want to know?” Amara asked. “Are the two of you close?”

“Yeah, we are ... or were when we were kids. I think she’d want to know.”

“If you know her phone number or know how to get it, handsome. I’ll make the call and tell her.”

Tristan leaned against Amara. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it Tris. We’re sticking beside you no matter what,” Joey squeezed his best friend’s shoulder.

“I have already made arrangements with the hospital to bill me for all your medical costs, Tristan.”

Tristan turned his head in Seto’s direction. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to pay you back for this.”

“No need to concern yourself with it Tristan; it’s the least I could do,” the CEO leaned over hugging Tristan gently. “If it wasn’t for you, I very much doubt I would be able to be with Amara,” he said quietly.

Amara was the only other person in the room to hear Seto’s comment. Her brow furrowed in confusion but otherwise made to indication she had overheard.

Seto gathered up his briefcase and motioned Mokuba to the door. “I need to return to the mansion tonight. Anyone needing a ride home can come with me.”

“I’m going to stay here with Tris tonight guys.”

“Okay, Joey. I’ll bring you some clothes and stuff in the morning,” Amara gave Tristan a peck on the cheek. “Anything you need me to bring you handsome?”

“Just some more food so I don’t have to choke down this hospital junk.”

“Hey, it’s not junk,” Joey protested. “I ate it.”

“Yeah, you also ate month old birthday cake.”

“It wasn’t molded,” Joey pointed out, seeing the disbelieving looks on his friend’s faces.

“Yeah, it just had a layer of dust on it,” Tristan smirked.

“I’ll bring some anti-acid too,” Amara chuckled.

“Or a stomach pump.”

Laughing, the group left Tristan and Joey in the room continuing their argument over the blond’s gastrointestinal capacities.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, the blond and brunet sat snuggled together in Tristan’s hospital bed, listening to the approaching thunderstorm outside. Tristan’s breathing was slow and steady; Joey was certain he was asleep.

“Tris, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going to go work on your bike? I’d have come with you and this wouldn’t have happened,” he whispered.

“I thought it was a quick fix and I didn’t want to take you away from your party.”

Surprisingly, Joey didn’t jump when Tristan spoke. “Thought you were asleep there, buddy.”

“Was, but the thunder woke me up,” Tristan shifted in the bed, pulling Joey closer to him. “You aren’t feeling guilty are you?”

“Some, I guess,” they both were quiet several moments, listening to the thunder.

“Is there lightening flashing yet?” Tristan asked.

Joey glanced out the window in time to see the entire sky brighten, the clouds casting the light at different angles. “Yeah, it is.”

There was another lightening flash then Joey began to count. “One...two...three...four,” the thunder rumbled. “Four hours out.”

“Mh’hm, it’s out over the harbor right now.”

“Tristan?”

“Yeah?”

“When I saw you lying on that concrete floor with those black stains all over your face and hands, I thought I had lost my best friend ... and my brother,” Joey sniffed quietly.

“I never want to be the reason you cry, Joey. You’ve had enough of that already.”

“I know,” he pressed his lips to the side of Tristan’s head. “But I had a flash of what my life would be like without you in it, and I hated it.”

“I’m not going anyplace, babe,” Tristan yawned. “Sorry.”

“It’s the pain meds kicking in,” Joey lowered the bed and shifted, laying them both back. “Go to sleep. I’m spending the night right here.”

“You stayed last night, Joey,” Tristan yawned again. “You should go get some rest in your own bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep in my bed Tristan,” Joey’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I want to sleep in our bed.”

Tristan snuggled in closer to the blond. Joey didn’t know if it was because of his confession or his comfort.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amara walked of of the nursery when she heard the distant rumble of thunder. Thinking nothing of it, she settled into bed with a book, waiting for Seto to finish his paperwork in his office and come up. The storm slowly progressed, Kira slept soundly, completely oblivious to the storm, and Amara had reached chapter twenty-five when the thunder began to rattle any loose glass in the room.

“A-Amara.”

She looked up at the sound of a small, shaky voice to see a terrified Mokuba standing in the doorway, clutching a White Fang plushie. Thunder boomed again, making the boy jump. Amara pulled back the blankets on Seto’s side of the bed and waved for him to come over. A loud clap of thunder sent Mokuba diving into the bed when still a few feet from it, huddling as close to Amara as he could possibly get.

“Hey, little bit scared there Mokuba?” He nodded, pressing himself closer to Amara’s leg. “Come up here and tell me what’s got you so spooked,” Amara pulled him up to wrap an arm around his shoulders, holding him close to her side.

“I hate thunderstorms and thunder. It reminds me of the storm at Duelist’s Kingdom when I was kidnapped by Pegasus and he held me there in the dungeon,” he cowered down under the blankets when another clap of thunder sounded. “I had a nightmare about it too.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Mokuba lifted his head up to look at Amara. “I was in the dungeon in Pegasus’ castle, and Seto was yelling out for me; he couldn’t find me. I heard the thunder then saw him right in front of me when lightening flashed. He got the door open and I reached out to him, just as I almost touched him, he turned to stone,” a violent tremor ran through Mokuba’s small frame. “Then Pegasus showed up and swung this big book at him, and he shattered.”

Amara pulled him close. “Dreams are just that, Mokuba. Dreams.”

“Yeah, but this one nearly came true.”

Amara remembered the conversations she had had with everyone about Duelist’s Kingdom and Battle City. She was aware of a great deal of what the Kaiba brothers hadn thn through, and it made her heart ache. “You’re safe now.”

Mokuba nodded, and was silent for several thunder booms. “Where’s Seto?”

“In his office still, I think,” Mokuba nodded again. “Would you like to stay here with me until he comes back?”

“Can I?”

“Sure,” Amara smiled.

Mokuba relaxed now that he didn’t have to deal with his fears alone any longer. “Amara, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she nodded.

Mokuba picked at his plushie’s fur. “I-I, um...well, I think of Seto as being my dad since he’s the only dad I really remember, even though he’s my big brother and not really my dad.” Amara nodded, motioning for the boy to continue. “I was wondering......”

“Yes?”

“Well, I know you love Seto, and he loves you, and you are wearing his ring, and I was wondering if maybe...if you didn’t mind, if I could think of you as my mom even though you’ll be married to him, and just be my sister.”

Amara felt tears sting her eyes and blinked rapidly. “I would be very honored if you thought of me as your mom, Mokuba.”

The boy rubbed at his eyes sleepily, looking much like the child he was. “I’m glad,” he yawned. “I don’t remember her either.”

She held him close, softly singing a lullaby as tears slid down her face. Seto stood in the shadows of the doorway watching the tender scene. He noticed Mokuba’s grip on his plushie relax and he knew his little brother was asleep.

He quietly entered the room. “Let me get him back in bed,” he whispered, scooping him up. He carried him to his room and tucked him into bed. Before leaving, Seto brushed the hair from Mokuba’s forehead and softly kissed him.

By the time Seto returned, Amara had washed the tears from her face and was sitting on the love seat by the window. He sat behind her, pulling her close. They sat in silence several moments before Amara spoke.

“He asked if he could think of me as his mom.”

Seto nodded. “He barely remembers her.”

“I’m glad he feels that way about me.”

“So am I.”

They sat quietly, watching the rain fall against the darkened glass of the window. Amara slipped her hands into Seto’s and leaned back against him.

“I overheard what you told Tristan in the hospital, about not being able to be with me if not for him. What did you mean by that?”

Seto propped his chin lightly on Amara’s shoulder. “I approached Tristan first, when I decided to ask them for help in overcoming my adoptive father’s conditioning. He was the first to be with me. He gave me the courage to ask Joey and then Yami and Yugi. If not for him, I doubt very much I would be able to risk letting myself get close to you, or letting you get close to me.”

Amara turned her head slightly to the side. “I’m glad you both took the chance on each other,” she kissed him lightly. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, dove.”

Seto released Amara’s hands slipped his up under her night shirt gently caressing her stomach. A barely audible moan escaped her as she lay her head against Seto’s shoulder. He bent his head to suckle at the base of her neck as his hands moved higher to cup her breasts. He tenderly kneaded the soft flesh and lightly pinched her hardening nipples.

“Gods, how do you make me feel this way so fast?” Amara murmured.

“I know your body,” Seto nipped at the small amount of exposed skin of her shoulder, sending tremors down her spine. “I know what you like...and need.”

Amara gave no resistance as he slipped her shirt over her head, catching her wrists and bringing her hands behind his head. “Keep your hands here,” he softly growled. “Give yourself up to me...let me love you.”

She tangled her hands in his soft cinnamon hair. “Anything,” she moaned.

Seto began to kiss his way down her left arm while his fingers left heated trails along her stomach. As he danced his fingertips up her sides, his lips moved across her shoulder, laying burning kisses to her neck. Amara moaned. Seto firmly cupped both her breasts as he nipped the base of her neck. Her body was burning with a fire nothing on Earth could quench but the man who had her in his tender mercies.

Seto’s heated breath tickled her ear. “You are mine,” his tongue darted out to flick the outer shell of her left ear. “I claim you,” he whispered in her right one before flicking his tongue at it as well.”

Amara’s mind was reeling. She was lost in the feel of Seto’s hands on her body, his lips on her neck, nipping lightly, and the softness of his hair in her hands. Suddenly his hands left her, and she nearly cried out in protest until they returned lower, stroking her inner thighs.

“Get out of those shorts,” he softly commanded. “I want to feel all of you.”

Reluctantly, Amara pulled away from him and stood on somewhat weak legs. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the sleep short she wore and slid them down. She carefully stepped out of them, watching her feet to keep from tangling them in the fabric, which was highly possible in her current state of mind. She looked up to find Seto standing right in front of her. The look in his azure eyes made her breath hitch.

Seto pulled her tightly against him, the rough fabric of his clothes brushed against her body in a most pleasing manner. He firmly pressed her hips into against his, leaving her no doubt to his desire.

“See what you do to me?” he murmured. “I need you more than I do the air I breath.”

Amara looked up to see the tenderest expression on Seto’s face. “I need you too, dragon. Without you, I’d be lost,” she stretched, to press their lips together.

Taking his hand in hers, Amara began to lead him towards the bed.

“No,” he pulled back lightly. “I want to put you there myself.”

He began to remove his clothes, never taking his eyes from hers. The intensity of the passion burning in those sapphire depths made Amara blush and look away. Seto reached out to gently turn her face back to him.

“Don’t be shy with me, baby.” Amara smiled, and looked up at him, holding his gaze while he shed his pants and boxers.

Seto swept her up in his arms, making his way across the darkened room, the brilliance of the lightening flashes outside providing enough light for him to maneuver around the furniture. He laid her in their bed, and began to stroke his hands down her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to take a hardened bud into his mouth.

He worried the small pebble with his tongue, lightly grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth, while alternating between rolling the other between his fingers and lightly pinching. Amara arched her back, pushing into Seto’s tantalizing touch. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and began to rub down his arms.

“No,” he took her hands and lifted her arms over her head. “Give yourself to me, baby.”

A hard shudder ran through her body as he bent to capture her lips. Seto shifted his body and laid his full weight on her, pinning her to the bed. He nipped at the hollow of her throat.

“Don’t move,” he whispered and began to kiss his way down her body. “Feet on my shoulders, baby. Open yourself up to me.”

Amara fisted the blankets in anticipation as she did as her lover commanded. She cried out when Seto’s hot tongue flicked between the folds of her womanhood tasting her sweetness.

Seto had a firm grip on Amara’s hips to keep her from moving as he indulged himself. He twirled his tongue over her sensitive bud in slow lazy circles then drifted down to probe inside her velvet heat.

Amara writhed and moaned wantonly as he continued his delightful torture of her body. She gripped the pillow under here head in frustration. Seto lightly trailed his fingers over the sensitive skin where her hip and thigh joined, tickling slightly.

“Fucking sadist,” she groaned.

“Dove getting frustrated?” he chuckled softly.

Amara tried to shoot him a death glare but the effect was completely ruined when Seto firmly pressed a finger against her bud, causing her to clench here eyes closed, and moan.

“I’d say you are very frustrated,” he murmured.

Seto genthifthifted her legs over his shoulders then slowly pressed his arousal inside her heat.

“Yes!” they moaned in unison.

He started a slow motion to intentionally tease his desperate lover. Amara tried to meet his thrusts to ease her burning need but there was no pattern to Seto’s movements. He shifted randomly between long and short thrusts which was efficiently driving Amara insane. She cried out loudly and arched up, pressing hard against Seto’s body in an attempt gain some relief.

He leaned down, scattering kisses over her face and chest and quickened his movements. Amara sobbed in relief and met each powerful stroke with a passionate cry.

Amara’s cries would soon be Seto’s undoing. He felt his release fast approaching, and by the small fist-like clenching of her inner muscles, Amara’s was as well. He saw small trails of tears running down her cheeks and prayed he wasn’t hurting her. He couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it.

She couldn’t take it any longer; Amara brought her hands down to Seto’s back. Her fingers gripped him in small clenching motions, causing her nails to dig into his sweaty skin but not deep enough to draw blood. She quickened her movements then with a scream arched up, giving in to the pleasures of her body as her climax overtook her.

Seto held her close, never ceasing his motions. He continued to thrust for several seconds before releasing deep inside her with a low growl. He took her lips fiercely in a fiery kiss before collapsing beside her. His eyes slid shut as he panted, waiting for his pulse to return to normal. He felt a soft touch pushing his sweat dampened bangs from his face and opened an eye to see Amara’s face close to his. She leaned in kissing him gently.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He wiped the tear streaks from her face, afraid to ask but needing to know. “Did I hurt you?” Amara shook her head. “Then why the tears?”

“Happiness, joy, contentment,” she shrugged. “All of the above.”

Amara snuggled against him as Seto drew the blankets up over their cooling bodies. He pulled her head onto his chest and lightly stroked her back as he felt her body relax into slumber. He sighed deeply in contentment then closed his eyes, surrendering to sleep himself.

“I love you, Amara,” he murmured.

Outside the dark and now silent Kaiba mansion sat a plain black car with a single occupant. He was under strict orders; at six o’clock sharp he was to deliver his package, a single envelope containing a single piece of paper. He wasn’t about to screw this up. He had wife, three children not in school, and one on the way. The bonus he would receive for this one delivery would go along way towards keeping them fed and clothed. Why someone would pay thirty thousand dollars for the delivery of one letter was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to turn it down. If that gray headed guy wanted to be an idiot and throw his money away like that, who was he to argue?

TBC

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

To Lady Elfskye: I like Nascar, yeah! Good stuff. I am under similar death threat promises to get the movie too, (shudder) kids. Anyway hope you liked it and if the stinking hurricanes would take a hike, I’ll be a little quicker. Makes me wish for blizzards...no wait they take out the power too, huh?

To Dragon Dreamer Yami Dragon: I know where you live too woman. But hey would I ever hurt your boy?? Well, for long anyway?