The Rustle of the Sheets . . .Danny and Michelle FanFic
Consummation
By J.Hallmark
The Rustle of the Sheets . . .Timeline: This is a couple of weeks from now. Danny and Michelle are together (sorta), they've decided to work things out (I don't really go into specifics). They haven't made love yet and Michelle hasn't told Danny how she feels.
Rating: This one is probably gonna be a heavy R, so kristi, if that's a problem, I'll put those sections in a private link.
Summary: Basically, the title says it all -- the marriage is consummated.
Comments? Questions? Flames? Love Notes? Send 'em here at [email protected].
Consummation
Chapter One -- No Arguments
Booming sirens wailed about them. Varying shades of grey, charcoal and black filled the night air. The pavement was wet from recently fallen rain, slippery with ash and Michelle Bauer Santos slipped every couple of steps on the two inch heels she was wearing.
She didn't care. He was in there. Somewhere. In there where the gunshots had been fired. And there was death. Death hiding in the shadows. She knew death. She had been around it her whole life. Her mother. Eve. The pallor of it hanging over first her father and then her brother after a brutal day at the hospital. She knew death and it was here.
Michelle prayed to a God that she'd rarely acknowledged that death had not found her husband tonight. She held tightly to Bill Lewis' hand, but he meant nothing to her at the moment. No one did. Nothing did. The doors opened and she let go of his hand, needing to see if Danny was in there. Needing to know. She began to run, when an arm encircled her waist and pulled her back.
"Michelle! Don't go in there! Michelle!" Bill cried out as he held her struggling form against him. She began to yell and scream like a wild woman in his arms and he was momentarily shocked to see Michelle Bauer like this. And in that moment, he realized he was no longer looking at Michelle Bauer. This was Michelle Santos. Daniel Santos' wife and all of the passion and pain and intensity that went with being a part of that family was a part of her now.
He loosened his grip and she escaped from his grasp. Without even turning to look at him, she headed frantically towards the smoky building when his voice called out from the opposite direction.
"Michelle!" She stopped mid-stride. Danny, her heart beat in time with his name, Danny! Danny! Danny! And he said her name again, softer and lower with a hint of strain and fatigue in his voice, "Michelle."
She turned slowly to face him and the tears dried on her face as he stepped towards her. "Michelle," he whispered softly again as she fell into his arms.
"Danny," she cried, holding tightly to him, "Danny. Thank God!" She pulled away from him slightly and looked up at his face, "thank you, God!"
He smiled mildly and the hint of a dry laugh escaped him. "Not quite God."
She laughed, tears caught in the sound. "Danny, Danny, Dan --" his name was lost in the sudden pressure of his lips against hers. Hungrily she opened her mouth to him, her heart and soul pouring into her kiss. He pulled away slightly and raised his head, pressing his lips against her forehead. Breathing softly against her flesh, he whispered in hoarse tones, "let's go home."
She didn't argue.
~~~
Chapter Two -- No Complaints
Danny sat gingerly into the chair as Michelle firmly shut their bedroom door behind her and locked it. Stepping into the room, she pulled her coat off and threw it on the table. She sighed and knelt before her husband. He reached out a hand and placed it on the side of her face and she arched her neck a little, burrowing into the soft, warm stroking of his palm.
"I love you, Danny," she whispered softly and the movement of his hand stopped. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't. He narrowed his eyes slightly and looked searchingly into her own. He tried to speak again, but again found himself unable to utter a word. He shook his head and finally managed her name.
"Michelle? I, uh --, Michelle?" His other hand came out and cupped the other side of her face. She smiled and nodded her head in the circle of his hands, "yes," she whispered.
"Yes?"
She nodded again and raised herself up. "I love you," she repeated, her breath hovering before his mouth and she lightly pressed her lips against his. Leaning against him, their bodies pressed close, their kiss deepened, that ever-present passion swirling between them.
Laughing, she pulled away, "Danny," and he followed the direction of her mouth and silenced her words with another kiss, wrapping his arms tightly about her. She responded, her laughter fading in the heat of his possession.
And she didn't complain.
~~~
Chapter Three -- No Hesitation
Danny sat back in the chair, a dazed smile on his face. He looked at Michelle as she came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on a small towel. "You love me?" he muttered under his breath.
"Yeah," she responded with a smile, and as before, she knelt before him. "Now," she leaned back on her haunches, "you need a bath. You're covered with smoke and soot and," she paused and briefly shut her eyes, "blood. You need a bath. There are bubbles and soothing herbal salts and lavender and rose-scented soap," he grimaced, but she blithely continued "you can take a shower tomorrow and use something manly, but tonight, I'm in charge." She began untying his shoelaces.
"Michelle, I can untie my own shoes."
She smiled up at him, the flirty minx's smile that never failed to arouse him, "but I want to do my wifely duty." She laughed lightly and pulled his shoes off. He smiled and shifted slightly in his chair. She leaned up and began unbuttoning the front of his dark grey shirt, while he undid his cuffs.
She pulled it off and the shirt went sailing to the floor. Michelle pressed her hands against his bare chest and lightly ran her palms over his warm flesh. Danny let out a long sigh that ended on her name, "Michelle."
Her fingers fell to the front of his pants. She undid his belt and then the snap and then his zipper. "Up," she commanded softly and he lifted his hips up, his eyes transfixed on her face -- her smiling, sultry eyes, the flushed line of her cheek, the tantalizing curve of her lips. Those lips curved even more as she pulled his pants down and slid them off. He settled down again, expecting her to back away and leave him to take care of himself.
But she didn't.
"Up," she said again, her voice rising slightly on the one word. He quirked an eyebrow at her and with just the slightest hint of warning in his voice, made her name a question, "Michelle?"
She just smiled and repeated her one word, "up." He stood up. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his grey, silk boxer shorts and her smile dimmed slightly as her breathing quickened. He swallowed and looked up at the ceiling as she slowly, gingerly pulled the boxers down.
Her eyes rose up his body and she met his expression with a smile, "your bath awaits you. Let's go."
He didn't hesitate.
~~~
Chapter Four -- No Words
She kneeled in front of the tub and pushed her sleeves up her arms. "You're welcome. Hand me the soap," she commanded. Danny looked at her and then to the soap on the side and then back to Michelle.
"Why?"
"Because I'm gonna clean you up," she smiled sweetly. He smiled, looked down and then back at his wife and then he laughed.
"Michelle --"
"-- okay, we'll start with your hair," she interrupted him with feigned exasperation. She stood up and grabbed the shampoo bottle, opening it up as she settled back down on the floor. Pouring a generous amount into her hand, she sat up straighter and leaned over him, sinking her fingers into his thick hair. Danny stared straight ahead of him, pleased with his wife's attention ... and his view. Michelle leaned over more to get the back of his hair and the pleasure in his view increased as her the gape in her shirt widened before his eyes. He sighed happily.
Pulling back, she reached to her side and grabbed a jug of water she'd set there earlier. "Tilt your head back," she commanded and he obeyed her. She rinsed his hair out, carefully trying to keep the sudsy shampoo out of his eyes. She succeeded. Sitting back down, she set the jug down and again asked for the soap. This time, he simply handed it to her.
"Thank you."
She lathered the scented soap in her hands and Danny found himself mesmerized by the twirling, swirling action. And then she was touching him; his eyes closed shut as she ran her hands down his chest, lathering the suds over his ropy arms, around his side, rubbing up and down his back. His breathing became heightened as her fingers wound about his throat. He arched his neck and surrendered to her ministrations.
Neither one said a word.
~~~
The water splashed over his shoulders and chest, the soap washing away. Michelle sat back again and waited.
"Michelle?" he questioned softly.
"Danny, stand up." Her voice was soft, a sensuous slide of honey that effected his breath, his heart, his very soul. He met her gaze and the question he was going to ask faded on his lips as he saw the surety, the certainty in her eyes. She was ready for whatever may come.
He stood up before her.
Michelle leaned back slightly, and released a shaky breath. Reaching for the bar of soap, she looked up at his face, that minx's smile upon her lips again, as she lathered it up. Her gaze remained locked upon him as she set the soap down, and as she laid her hands upon the side of his hips. He raised his eyes skyward, releasing his own shaky breath.
Her hands, her fingers were slick with soap and suds and she stroked the outside of his legs. She breathed softly, quickly and circled her fingers around his ankles beneath the water. And then up her hands went again, gathering up the soap still on his legs as she slid her fingers against the inside of his calves, his thighs.
His hands were clenched at his side and his breathing was heavy and a strangled groan escaped from his throat as her fingers wound about him, stroking the length of him. "Danny," she whispered his name as her eyes dropped from his face and with a shuddering breath, she released him and sat back. "You need," she paused and licked her lips, "you need to rinse off."
He was silent and still for a moment and then slowly slid back into the water. Reaching out, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her head towards him, his mouth opening as his upper lip stroked the pillow of her bottom lip. Softly, he suckled on her lip, his breath mingling with hers and her tongue slipped into his mouth, lightly dancing across his. Her hand swam across the slippery-wet muscles of his back and she rose onto her knees, leaning more into his kiss.
Needing air, they pulled apart and sat staring at one another, their gazes locked, a simmering heat building inexorably between them. She leaned slightly forward, but he held back, needing to know. He had to be sure.
"Michelle, you okay?"
She nodded and smiled, "love you," she whispered and he found himself smiling back. "God, I love you, too. Michelle, I love you so much." He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her honey-blonde curls. "Love you so much, it hurts."
She nodded into the crook of his neck and began pressing kisses against his shoulders. He pulled back, his hands cupping her face and she leaned forward, kissing him.
With no regrets.
~~~
He unzipped the back of her dress with shaking hands and she watched him, anticipation aflush on her face. Shrugging her shoulders, she helped him slip it off. He rose to his knees and pulled her up against him, and with a grunt, pulled her over the rim of the tub and into the water with him.
"Danny!" she cried out, laughing, but her laughter was quickly dissolved into the hungry kiss he laid upon her, pressing her back against the foot of the tub. His lips moved from hers down her chin, sliding down her throat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands clinging to his neck, her fingers entwined in the wet curls that lie there.
He reached under the water and hooked his finger around the band of her underwear. Pausing, he looked up at her, and she nodded, so he slid them off and flung them over the side of the tub. Michelle sat up straighter as he pulled her closer to him, his lips once more devouring her flesh, discovering the taste and feel of the curve of her shoulders, the slopes of her lace-covered breasts, the silky-softness of her arms, the delicate texture of her fingers.
She pressed her mouth to his head, the silky ebony of curls feathering against her lips, "Danny," she whispered softly in a half-sigh, half-moan as he slid the straps of her bra down and his mouth fastened upon one hardened peak. Sitting up straighter, she tightered her grip about his shoulders, her fingers clutching at his hair, his name a constant cry upon her lips.
Suddenly, he pulled away from her and just looked at her. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated with passion. Her cheeks were flushed with the heat of the warm water and her desire. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen before in his life.
"Michelle, I love you," he whispered reverently. "You, only you. My whole life. Only you." She smiled sweetly and laid one hand upon his face as he broke out into a smile, "and I'm not gonna make love for the first time in my life to my wife in a bathtub."
"Okay," she agreed and took his hand as he stood up, pulling her up alongside him. Danny looked at her and then reached behind her and unhooked her bra, "we don't need this," he remarked dryly as the garment slipped from his hands into the water. He stood still for a moment gazing down at her nude body and she felt no inhibition, no embarrassment. He was her husband. He was her love.
At last having his fill for the moment, he stepped out of the tub and bending down, scooped her up in his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him, openly, lovingly, as he carried her into their bedroom and there was no uncertainty, no reservation in her eyes, in her smile, on her face.
~~~
He laid her down upon the bed, as soft and gentle as a prayer. He wanted her, oh so desperately, that was more than obvious, but more than the physical need was the desire to savor every moment, every touch, every kiss, every thing about this woman, this night.
He sat down next to her supine form and stroked tender fingers against the side of her face; she sighed softly. And then he trailed his fingers down the column of her throat and she offered a breathy moan; and then over the tops of her breasts, his index fingers circling her taut nipples and she squirmed beneath his caress. Down the slopes of her bosom, over her belly, one hand traveled along her smooth thigh, the other resting at the apex of her femininity.
"Danny," she breathed his name as her arms came up, her hands winding their way over his chest. Sitting up, she pressed her body against his and pulled his head towards her, and it was her turn to kiss him, and all of the passion that had laid pent-up inside of her all of her life, the passion and desire that this man alone had arisen in her, came flooding through her body, unleashing a torrent of ardor directed at Danny.
He fell back under the onslaught of her emotion as she took control. Her fingers rifled through his hair, as feverishly as her tongue conducted the mating dance with his, exploring the sweet recesses of his mouth. She clung to him as he rolled her over, lying atop her writing, passion-soaked form.
Again, his mouth trailed across her body and again she moaned his name, her hands running roughshod across his back, her nails gripping into his hot flesh. Once again, his hand traveled southward and she moaned into his shoulder, her teeth nipping at the skin gathered tight there as he rose slightly above her.
He lifted his head and she pulled away, their eyes meeting and all of the love, the need, the desire, the intensity between them flared into a hot white flame and with their gazes locked, he entered into her ... moving slowly at first, and then harder and faster, building up in speed and pressure as he thrust into her, the two of them at last becoming man and wife in the fullest sense of the union. And they were one, a connection born and forged between them.
It was a cliche, but he swore he heard his music and later she would tell him that there were definitely fireworks. It was like nothing either had ever experienced before. For Danny, it had always been about the physical pleasure -- it had been just sex, but this was making love. For Michelle, she had only been with one other man, and it had been an emotional connection for her, but the physical intensity she felt tonight, the sheer physical joy was unlike anything she had ever known and coupled with the love she felt for her husband ... she was as overwhelmed as he.
There was simply no comparison.
~~~
Afterwards, they lay in one another's arms. Danny felt a contentment he had never known before and Michelle, well, Michelle was just in ecstatic bliss. She stretched sensuously, pressing her body against his and leaning up, she pressed a kiss upon his mouth.
"I love you," she murmured happily.
He smiled, "again."
"I love you, Danny."
He smiled and whispered softly, "I love you, too," and then he grinned, "again. I want to hear it again."
She sat up slightly and leaned over him, looking down at his beloved face. Very succintly with full disclosure in her tone she repeated, "I love you, Daniel Santos, my husband."
He smiled again and gazed up at her beautiful face, threading his fingers through her hair. Frowning, he stopped suddenly when she grimaced after he got stuck on a tangle, "sorry," he mumbled. Carefully he undid the snaggle, his fingers deftly working to afford her the least amount of pain. She shook her head slightly and smoothed her hair down when he'd finished and then gingerly he lay his hand upon her head and stroked the top of her hair, and then the length, finally easing his palm across her naked back. She lay back down and curled up against him.
"You know what this means, don't you?" she asked suddenly.
"Hmm?" he responded idly, fascinated by the falling and rising pressure of her breasts agains his chest with every breath she took.
"No annulment." She answered happily.
He paused in his careful study of her breathing and looked down at her, "you know what, you're absolutely right." He grinned, "damn," he added, but didn't sound the least upset.
"Yeah, I guess you're stuck with me."
He considered this for a moment and then she breathed heavily; his gaze once more returned to his earlier observation and absent-mindely, he replied, "I guess I am." He laid a gentle finger against the side of her breast and stroked her flesh, "how ever will we manage to pass all of our time together?"
She moaned softly as he shifted his body, bringing her upright against him. "I don't know," she managed to respond, "but, I'm sure," she paused and let out a shaky breath as his hand slid down her belly, "yeah, I'm pretty sure we can come up with something."
He smiled and lowered his head, finding her face upturned to his, her lips waiting for his kiss. And so he kissed her. It was a sweet kiss, just a hint of passion beneath the surface, in direct contrast to the fervent fires he was stirring down below. Her eyes opened as their lips drifted apart. He was smiling at her, the softness in his gaze unmatched by the rough, husky whisper in his voice, "yes, something."
And he kissed her again, and this time his kiss and his touch were in perfect harmony and she closed her eyes, lost once more in the passionate intensity of her husband and his love.