lady_bols | Room 6620, Afternoon

He swallows hard, and pushes up so he can lock his arms out. He wants to watch her, so he can give her what she wants. Wants to see everything on her face. His breath comes hard already, and - not that he'll ever admit it - there's a voice in the back of his mind yelling, you're shagging Alex Drake! which is a little distracting. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing at this point.

'Y'OK?'

It's a tad breathless and he starts slow, a gentle push-and-pull. This needs to last a bit, otherwise he'll never live it down. And anyway, they have time.

Edited 2012-07-16 23:07 (UTC)

She smiles up at him, nodding, her every movement languid and sensual. He just gave her a mind-blowing orgasm, and the second one is always better than the first. Her hand comes to rest over his heart, and she presses her palm flat, the silent gesture another way to connect to him.

They're as alive as they've ever been, here in this place. They breathe, they eat, they sleep, they make love. This isn't a dream. The fire he's stoking low in her belly is reflected in her gaze. Dark eyes, pupils shot wide, she looks up at him, marveling at his pout of concentration. That she's here with him is a miracle.

This is better than any dance she'd ever imagined. There are no words to express how good he feels.

He nods, and spreads his knees wider, all the better to give him a solid base. The pace doesn't increase, but he gets a little more firm when she puts her hand on him. The doubts about himself over the last few days seem to melt away - he can do this, and she wants him to. He might not be what any of them thought he was, but he can make her come, and he can make her feel good, and she wants him. It's a big part of what makes someone a man, in his book.

As long as he doesn't blow it. Very, very important he doesn't blow it. He can tell it's going to be a struggle already; she fits around him like a hand in a velvet glove, reacting to every push of his hips with a push back of her own. She's not passive, even caught underneath him. He breathes out, and stamps down the coiling excitement in his gut as he rocks a little harder. There'll be time for that later.

And with that firm push, all attempts to keep quiet go right out the window. Every stroke is answered with a decadent moan, soft, but raw and unmistakable. She can't seem to get enough of touching him, her hands stroking over his chest, his arms, his neck. And her feet and legs do much the same. He spreads his knees and hers rise, her heels skimming over his arse, pulling him in.

'Always thought, our first time, would be in, your office. Or, ah yes, my couch.'

He strokes over a hot spot, and she lights up, lips parted, her eyes falling closed at the rich wash of sensation.

'Never thought we'd make it, to a bed.' She's grinning as she says it, looking up at him, taking in his expression as she moves with him.

He never expected her to be so tactile. But then, in his fantasies she wasn't so...real. Her hands don't stop, and his hips respond, speeding up to answer the pull of her feet on his backside.

'Last of the...uh, great romantics, you.'

Mmm, he likes that reaction. He tries to find it again, though he can't remember what he did to get it the first time.

'Wanted it on the office floor, did you?'

She laughs, groans, her heels digging in when he finds it again.

'No, thought I'd be the, one to initiate. Jump you in that chair. Maybe on the desk. Mmm, there, yes there.'

Her eyes roll back and she clings to him for a few moments before relaxing back, gasping for breath.

'This is better...' To say the least.

'I wouldn' have complained.'

Understatement.

OK, he reckons he's got this now. A thrust, and a little twist when he's pressed down against her. He could watch her eyes roll back all day - if there was a chance this could go on that long. He's bloody glad she's started talking. It takes his mind away from the pressure building, and the sound of their bodies coming together, and the tight clench of her when he hits the bits she likes.

'Been wanting...you over that desk since the...the day you walked in.'

She's reaching for him again, rising up a little, hands gently begging another kiss.

'Yeah? I never guessed.'

She uses her weight as leverage, her strong legs letting her meet him just so. Her teeth fix in her lower lip, and it's there, yes, there. She can feel him responding, too. The way he's holding himself, the tension in his breath, and the sound of his voice.

'Still,' she murmurs against the corner of his mouth. 'This, like this, is better.'

It wouldn't have meant as much to either of them, then. She hopes he can feel that, too.

Maybe one day they'll talk about it, and he'll get to tell her that of course she didn't guess, because she told him they couldn't happen so he could never let it show. But it's sure as hell not going to be now, when she's kissing him and she feels so bloody good. He lets out a quiet noise when her arms go around him, and the look on her face brings a flush to his cheeks.

'Yeah. Better.'

Short words for short breaths, tension building up through his shoulders and in the back of his thighs. His strokes are getting shorter, quicker, but he tries to make them stay deep. There's nothing he needs more than to be as far in her as he can get.

Deep is good, deep is perfect. She sinks back to the bed, bringing him with her, needing to feel him all along her body. Her breath comes in tight whimpers, shallow gasps, and she's striving with him now. The heat is pooling low in her belly, the knot starting to draw tight.

Her arms wind around his neck, and she keeps him close, his pleasure feeding her own.

He follows where she wants him. It puts him off his stride a bit as he adjusts to the new angle, but that's OK, it'll help stave off the inevitable a bit longer. His fingers grip the sheets and he kisses her, building back up to a steady rhythm, losing his breath all over again when he feels her tits rubbing his chest.

Her eyes close, and she lets the rhythm take her, lets herself sink into the power and strength of him. It strikes her how natural this feels. After three years of struggling against everything, this is effortless. They fit together, hand in glove. He asks, and she answers, lifting her hips to meet his, drowning in slick heat and hardness right where she needs it.

The weight of his body, the sweetness of his mouth, all of it wraps around her, draws the pleasure down into a spark of white heat. Her eyes roll back again, and her hands grip his shoulders, her thighs trembling.

'Gene.'

Edited 2012-07-17 20:45 (UTC)

He gulps down a breath, but it doesn't stop a moan rumbling out from his chest. She lifts up, and it gives him freedom to move faster, angle upwards so he can push her to the edge. He can't help but go faster as soon as he sees her eyes roll back; her body's so open to him, so willing to take him, so wet and hot and soft all at once. It's drowning him, tight waves of pleasure shooting out from his centre, but all he can do is watch her face.

It's gradual, this time, a detonation that unfolds in slow motion, knocking down all her defences, one by one by one. He's here, holding her, moving in her, and all she wants to do is let this moment last for as long as she can. But her muscles are vibrating with the tension and she feels weak, sensation overloading her nerves, making her shudder and twitch beneath him. Her eyes are unfocused, but her hands never relax their grip. Her knees spread wide, instinct needing him as deep as he can go. He pushes her to the edge, and she trips and falls, knowing he's there to catch her. Knowing deep down in her bones he would never let her fall.

She's gripping him so tight he has to fight to pull up, because he wants to see properly. He doesn't get far, but it doesn't matter. Her legs spread and it's all he can do to stop himself hammering into her. He doesn't. He forces himself to slow to a gentle rocking so she can enjoy it, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches her lose control. He'd always imagined she'd be collected, or wild, depending on the fantasy. Not shaking and clinging to him, demanding closeness. He never expected that, and it's so much better this way.

A grin breaks over his face. Can't help it. It's breathless and tight, but he can't help it.

After a while, she lets out a long breath, a dazed smile on her face as well. Her hands release their fierce grip on him, going back to stroking over his sweat-slicked skin. It takes a moment for her eyes to focus, and she blinks up at him, still half-gone in the afterglow.

'Mmm, hey.' It's about all the coherency she can muster right now, with him still hard and moving inside her.

''lo.'

He kisses her, because it's easier than trying to speak, and presses his hips forward. His eyes shut with the movement, and his breath chokes out quietly at the feel of it.

''K?'

He's moving again already. Can't help that, either.

'Yeah,' she breathes, moving with him, her heels sliding down the backs of his legs as she falls back.

'Mmm, you?'

She's shifting sensually beneath him, insistent on letting him know she's strong enough to take whatever he has to give.

'Mmm.'

Yeah, he's OK. And while he'd love to continue this a lot longer, he hasn't got the energy to hold back much more. His arms are aching though, so he pushes up to his knees - carefully, so it won't hurt her - and hooks a hand under her thigh, easing one leg up to rest over his shoulder.

'OK like this?'

Her eyes flutter closed again and she moans, the change in sensation delicious.

'Mmm, yeah, but...'

Would he mind if they shifted?

'How about, you let me just...'

Her hand catches his, and she's watching his face, still somewhat wary of offending him somehow.

'...what?'

Not offended. A bit confused now, but not offended.

She smirks a little, pushing herself up to her elbows.

'I think I'd like to drive for awhile, if you don't have any objections?'

She quirks an eyebrow at him, licking her lips.

'Oh.'

Well, when she puts it like that. He purses his lips to cover how much he likes this idea, eases out of her and lets her leg down.

'Sure you know how to handle the gearstick?'

He looks down at himself, swollen and straining, and automatically cups a hand 'round his sac. He's obviously teasing.

'Delicate mechanism, y'know?'

She's already moving, kneeling up and cupping his face in her hands, kissing him as she guides him to lie back.

'I think I can handle it,' she purrs. Her movements are languid, and she straddles his thighs, staying just out of reach of his hands for the moment. (She knows where they'll be in a moment.)

For now, she just wants to give her full regard to the object of her affections. Because he is magnificent, and really, her mouth is watering again.

'Let me show you just how it's done.'

'I know how it's done.'

Obviously. But hey, he's not going to complain if she wants to have her way with him. As long as it's soon. His hands stretch out towards her chest because yeah, he'll be playing with them every damn chance he gets.

'Fair warning though, if you're planning on teasing him he'll probably just spit at you.'

Rude git, Sergeant Rock.

Edited 2012-07-17 23:09 (UTC)

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