MY BLUE EYED MARINE
By
Ashleigh Anpilova
Ducky breaks his own rules and seduces Gibbs.
A first time story.
Written: March 2008. Word count: 1,855.
All last night we lay in bed making love
I never felt so much before with anyone
Never had to say a word
It was all right there
The warmth inside us flamed and circled everywhere
I cannot believe what I have done.
I cannot believe that I broke my own rule; the one whereby I always vowed I would never attempt to seduce or bed a man who was not gay.
But I did.
In my own defense, it was not entirely my fault. It was partly his. One look at him standing in his dress-blues, his midnight blue eyes coming to rest somewhat lazily on me, and I was beyond hope; I was smitten.
It was relatively easy for me to ascertain when he would be on leave; his base commander and I are friends. Once I had discovered that fact, I took the liberty of inviting him to join me for a meal. He seemed a little surprised, but he also accepted very willingly.
Had I had any doubt in my mind about seducing him, it fled when he arrived. He was wearing a dark-blue shirt, almost the exact color of his eyes. And it enhanced the dark beauty of his gaze. After that there was no way back.
I wined him and dined him somewhat extravagantly and then, a little daringly, suggested he join me in my hotel room where I had a bottle of particularly good brandy. To my partial surprise he accepted instantly, without question, concern or hesitation.
Once in my room, after he had shed his jacket and was looking at me, that dark gaze holding me captive, I knew it was then or never. Quite from where I got the nerve or the strength, I know not, but one second I was standing looking up at him, the next I had him in my arms, my mouth on his.
After a mere second he pulled back. "What the hell . . . ?" He glared down at me, holding my arms, his fingers digging into my skin. A fission of fear and unease raced through me. I forced myself not to attempt to pull away, but merely to remain where I was.
And then as I looked up at him, I saw his face change, his look became speculative. "You want me, do you?" His tone was not exactly a pleasant one.
I nodded.
"Let's hope you don't regret it," he growled. And then I really was afraid, I was very afraid. He was several inches taller than me, some twelve years younger, and far, far stronger. And he had been trained; he had been trained to kill; he had been trained to kill with his bare hands. What had I done? What was going to happen to me?
The next second his mouth was on mine again. I gasped at the brutality of the meeting, and I tasted iron as his teeth split my lip. The next second though he'd gentled the kiss and I groaned at the sheer beauty of it.
We kissed and went on kissing for what seemed like hours. He was holding me in a tight embrace, one hand on the back of my head, his fingers laced in my hair, the other around my back.
Eventually he stopped kissing me and, in silence, took me by the hand, led me to the bed and began to undress me. The way he removed my clothing was both detached and immensely intimate; he took his time, his gaze and fingertips flirting with my skin as he uncovered it. Once he had me naked, he pulled back the covers and urged me to get onto the bed. Then he stripped himself at high speed, and once again I tasted fear as his steady dark-blue gaze appraised me; once more the look was speculative and just a little hard.
He climbed into bed with me and I immediately began to turn over, certain that was what he would want. He stopped me. "Later," he murmured. He then proceeded to make love to me; to kiss me, stroke me, caress me, touch me, his mouth, lips and fingers explored every inch of my body; doing things to me I could never have hoped for, never expected. My climax was incidental; secondary to the way he was making me feel.
Only then did 'later' happen, but not in the way I expected. He prevented me from turning over, "Want to see you," he murmured, again finding my mouth with his own. And once again he showed nothing but gentleness; there was no rush, no hurrying, he spent what seemed like hours preparing me, making sure I was ready for him. Never had anyone taken so much care not to hurt me, never had anyone kept asking if I was okay, was it too painful, was I ready, did I really want it.
Apart from those mild orders, his enquires and my reassurances, neither of us said a word during out lovemaking; there was no need. Our lips, mouths, hands and bodies spoke for us.
He finally fell asleep, his arm over my body, holding me down in what really was very proprietorial way.
And if I never have another love
Well at least I had last night
Now I know how the feeling grows
'Cause you made me come alive
No one had ever made me feel that way.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling that way. He had brought me to life; he had reached inside me and found something I hadn't actually known was hiding; he has given me life.
My feelings for him were above any they should be after one night together.
I'll never get enough, never get enough
Never get enough of you
I'll never get enough, never get enough
Never get enough of you
I only wanna give you more
And as I lay next to him I knew. I knew I had found the person with whom I know I could be happy. The man I have already fallen in love with; the man with whom I wish to spend my life. But have I found him only to lose him?
If I have, then I have.
At least I had one night. At least I had one night of perfection, one night to rival any dreams anyone might have, one night that showed me I was alive.
One night I shall never forget.
I want so much more. I want him. I want him now and forever. One night is not enough; but a lifetime would not be enough.
Yet if one night is all I have, then that will have to be a lifetime.
I do not know what tomorrow or the future will bring.
I do not know if last night will be the only night I will share with my blue-eyed Marine.
I only know I hope it will not be the case.
He will awaken soon and maybe I will know then.
Maybe I will know if I have a chance of happiness or if what we had was just one night.
Now you're gone, I'm all alone just lying here
Waiting for the moment when I'll feel you near
Never asked if you'd come back,
I was too damn proud
I just smile and touched your hair
As you went out
Was I wrong to let him go without a word?
Was I wrong to let him go without telling him I wanted to see him again?
Was I wrong to let him go without telling him how I felt?
Was I wrong to seduce him?
Was I wrong to break my own rule?
He is after all not only a heterosexual man, because despite the skill and ease and intensity with which he made love to me, I know he has never been to bed with a man before, but also a Marine.
What if someone finds out?
It would mean the end of his career.
Was I selfish to think of myself, or how desperately I wanted him? Of how much I wanted to kiss and be kissed by him? Of how much I wished to be in bed with him.
I confess the way he made love to me, the attention he paid to me, the way he kissed and touched me surprised me. I really did think that he would see it merely as a physical gratification for himself. Sex, nothing more, nothing less.
But that is not what happened. We made love; there is no doubt about that. We made love and I want to do it again and again and again.
My blue-eyed Marine. I want him in my life forever.
My blue-eyed Marine. Of him I know I would never tire.
My blue-eyed Marine. Forever with him would not be long enough.
My blue-eyed Marine. Will I ever see him again.
My blue-eyed Marine. I love him.
It was as I was about to leave my room to go down for breakfast that I found it. I saw it glinting from behind my case that stood on a chair by the door.
It was his lighter. He didn't smoke, he'd told me that, but like any good Boy Scout a good Marine is always prepared, indeed it seemed that a Zippo was almost an unofficial part of the Marine uniform.
It could not have got there by accident. The chair over which he'd thrown his jacket was on the other side of the room and he'd undressed by the bed. There was no way, short of him putting it there, that the lighter could have been where I found it.
I picked it up and held it, somewhat romantically imaging him holding it, imaging it in his hands, his fingers lightly caressing it, imaging him keeping it his pocket. I turned it over several times and smiled to myself. I would be seeing my blue-eyed Marine again, that I now knew. What it would lead to, I knew not. But I had a good feeling; he had no reason to leave this behind, none at all. Except that he wished to see me again.
And then I knew, even if it only led to friendship, it would be enough for me. I loved him, yes, I was falling, had fallen, in love with him; I did want his lips on mine once again, his hands on my body, his – But if it were not to be, I would be content with friendship. And yet surely had it only been friendship on his mind he wouldn't have left something quite so personal, something that I knew he wouldn't leave behind forever. No, I had a good feeling. A very good feeling.
I slipped the lighter into my own pocket and still smiling and remembering my blue-eyed Marine, I went down to breakfast.
Ah, my blue-eyed Marine.
I'll never get enough, never get enough
Never get enough of you
I'll never get enough, never get enough
Never get enough of you
I only wanna give you more
My Blue Eyed Medic is the sequel to this story.
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