lady_bols | Room 6620, Post Deluge

'I know now. I didn't then, and that's what you were asking about.'

She may force his head back, but she can't force him to meet her eyes.

'Of course I didn't know you hadn't forgotten your life before. To me, that place is life. Why would I walk around wondering if people have forgotten reality yet?'

He takes a deep breath, because he can feel himself spiralling the hole again. He doesn't want to get sucked in there. Bad enough he falls in when he tries to sleep. He's been trying to stay out of it during daylight hours, and talking like this isn't helping.

'It doesn't matter.' He refuses to look at her and she lowers her head to his shoulder, melting down to rest her weight on his chest.

It doesn't matter. He waited for her, and she came back for him. And they're here now. She hides her face against his throat, painting his skin with soft kisses, nuzzling, wordlessly pleading with him to come back to her from the edge of darkness.

'I want you, Gene.'

His eyes drop closed, and he wills himself not to hear the crack of the shotgun, or feel the wind of the pellets that took his face off. His fingers tighten on her back, and he pulls another deep breath in, and another, focusing on her mouth to keep himself here.

'Yeah.'

It helps. He still stretches for his glass.

'Need a drink.'

She gently rolls to his side, staying close, not leaving any air between them, but still giving him enough room to reach for his Scotch.

He drinks, and she presses her lips to his shoulder, wet kisses, painting herself on his skin. Reminding him why he wants to stay here, if only for just one more night.

He drains the glass in one mouthful - the burn's enough to distract his thoughts, and she's close enough to keep them busy. So he falls back, and puts an arm around her in silent thanks.

It's easy to mold herself to his side, easy to kiss her way up his throat again, gentle, suckling bites to keep his attention focused on her. Her hands caress over his chest, down his side to his hip, petting over his skin with a deliberate, warm touch.

It's a slow seduction this time, but there's an unmistakeable hunger as well. She's never been good at forgetting, and her thoughts of the coming days are dark. She needs him to remind her, as well, just what it is they both have at stake here.

Edited 2012-09-03 23:32 (UTC)

'Time for round two?' he murmurs, not expecting a reply. Just an excuse to hear something banal, really, though there's nothing banal in the way she's kissing him.

He tilts his head to give her mouth more room, and his hand follows her example, stroking down the ridges of her spine until he finds her arse, caressing over the soft rise until he's got it in his hand.

Edited 2012-09-03 23:37 (UTC)

'Mmmhmm.'

He shifts his head, and she shimmies up a bit higher, searching for that one spot she thinks will unravel him. It's a methodical search, marking her way with hot, wet kisses. (And if it gives him a better grip on her derriere, then isn't she the lucky one?)

'You always this greedy?'

He doesn't sound like he minds. Rather the opposite. He's reaching his other hand over his chest, towards her chest, when her lips find a spot that brings a quiet moan. He didn't mean to. But that was nice. He grips her tighter in return.

'Do that again.'

'Mmmhmm.'

There it is. She does that again, taking a larger mouthful, adding just enough teeth to wake his skin up, and other parts of his anatomy as well.

The whole while, she's pressed tight against his side, her thigh sliding over his until she can pull his leg against her. Heat and pressure, wet friction, touch and more touch, skin against skin. It's good to let him feel her hunger for him. Good to let him see just how much she needs this, too.

The past is receding at pace, drowned by the heat of her skin pressed to his, and the wetness of her mouth sparking his nerves to life. Another quiet grumble of a moan and he's ushering her over to lie on him properly, because he wants to feel her thighs gripping him again. He always enjoys that. It's so promising for what's to come. In the meantime, he draws his fingernails lightly across the base of his abdomen, making sure that Sergeant Rock knows he's expected to report for duty.

'OK like this?'

He's tired, though he doesn't want to have to admit it.

'Oh yes...'

She follows his lead, easing herself into place without lifting her head. All she wants to do is cover him from head to toe, surround him and fill him with nothing but this. A moment later, she hisses quietly against his collarbone as she settles against him, the half-hard heat of his cock meeting the aching flesh between her thighs.

Her voice is rough, pitched low and honey dark against his jaw. 'What was it you said? Ride you like a cowgirl in heat?'

She guides his hands to her hips, her body already starting to move, slow, waves against the shore, telling him again that she intends to fulfill her promises to him. Her teeth fix in his skin, and she moans, the bite melting into another wet kiss.

'Well, if you fancy it.'

He's not going to complain. He's not complaining about anything she's doing, as she'll no doubt be able to tell by his erection filling rapidly between her legs. He can feel the wet heat of her, the brush of her curls and his grip tightens, encouraging her to keep moving. Her teeth make him close his eyes, and dug his nails into her skin.

'Cannibal.'

She pulls back to look him in the eye, her gaze dark with arousal.

'Oh I think you'd like that. Being eaten alive...' Another hot kiss just below his collarbone and she's slipping down his torso, nipping at his skin playfully, nuzzling down his midline. Another moment and she's settling between his thighs. Her cheek brushes the crown of him, and she can't help the quiet moan rising in her throat.

'I think you might actually enjoy it.' Her breath is hot in the crease of his thigh, and she stops only long enough to give him a long, hungry look from beneath her lashes, her hair wild around her face.

He watches her all the way down, taken by surprise in the best way possible. His fingers skate up her body as she descends, until the only thing he can reach is her head; he tangles his fingers in her hair, and purses his lips in a blatant attempt to look indifferent.

'Dunno. Maybe you should give me a taster, an' I'll let you know.'

Sergeant Rock, it has to be said, ruins his air of aloofness. By the time she gets down near him, he's rigid and ready for action.

Her eyes fall closed at the feel of his hands in her hair, a full-throated sigh of contentment on her lips.

'Keep doing that, and I'll make you a believer.'

How many times has she dreamt of doing this? How many nights has she lulled herself to sleep, one sticky hand between her thighs, imagining running her tongue along this proud bit of himself? His musk fills her nose, and she moans, tasting him on her lips and in the back of her throat. Wet lips, full and warm, press soft kisses just so, and her tongue licks up and over that weeping tip. She takes him into her mouth without any shame, voicing her own enjoyment at the way he throbs against her tongue.

One firm hand encircles his shaft, and she holds him while she takes as much as she can, devouring him in the best possible way.

Edited 2012-09-04 20:12 (UTC)

'You like it?'

He runs his fingers through her hair, and groans as she pulls him into her mouth and starts to work. Strange to him that she'd enjoy so simple a touch, or doing something like this to him. But thank God she does, because nothing feels as good.

'Christ, you really love this.'

It's a long moment before she can answer, distracted as she is with the taste and feel of him, running over her lips. Her tongue explores the gentle curves, the ridges and planes, the soft velvet skin over heated iron beneath. She loves the way his body tenses, the way his breath catches, the way his fingers feel against her scalp.

When she takes a breath, she whispers her answers against his skin. 'I do. I love the way you feel, the way you taste.' A long wet kiss slides down his shaft, and she lips gently at his bollocks, a teasing promise of more to come. 'I could do this for days.'

'm'flattered you think I could last that long.'

Her mouth touches his balls, and words die on his tongue. He makes a quiet noise instead, and pushes them up a bit, asking for more. He won't pull her head around, but figures it doesn't hurt to drop a hint.

'You like this better than me givin' it to you?'

She laughs, her breath huffing over the delicate skin, feeling it ruche under her lips. It's a subtle hint, but she doesn't need to be told twice. Another wet kiss, exploring, sucking him gently into her mouth so she can weigh and tease him, letting him go with a lewd, juicy sound.

'I wouldn't go that far. It is good to give, and good to receive.'

Brilliant, more like. Especially if he enjoys it as much as she does.

'And I love it when you...' Her mouth presses flush against his shaft again, and she flickers her tongue all the way up that ridge to the very tip, her fingers sliding down to the base in tight counterpoint. 'Tease me until I lose my mind.'

He snorts quietly, a sound that turns into a groan as she sucks his balls, and then to a gasp that cuts off when her tongue plays up his length. For a long moment, he can't breathe - and then she's at the tip and he's keening, straining up into her mouth, fingertips pressed to her scalp.

There's no chance of talking until her tongue slows, and even then it takes a while.

'Don' think I've...had the chance to do...that, yet.'

But he will.

'Reckon I owe you after this.'

'Maybe.' She takes him in again, laving that sweet spot with a heavy, wet tongue, drawing him in with a quiet moan, her own skin singing at the sound of his voice. It would be simple just to work his length, lips tight around him, pressing him against the roof of her mouth, but she's never been satisfied with simple. So her strokes are measured, intent, designed to make him focus on the rising pressure without tipping over the edge too quickly. Never letting him get too tense before cupping his sac in her palm, her caress designed to distract him before going back to worshiping his prick.

'Let me know, when you get -- bored.'

'Never get bored of this, luv.'

So true. If he didn't already know what his version of heaven was, he'd suspect it would be lying on his back, getting sucked off by a beautiful woman. But he runs his hands through her hair one more time, and lets them drop as he moves to ease his hips away.

'You probably are, though.'

A gentle tug on her bicep, as he tries to collect himself a bit.

'Come an' climb on.'

She's hardly bored, and makes a little disappointed sound in the back of her throat as he moves away. But it makes no difference. There's more of him to enjoy, and she is intent on not missing any of it, kissing her way back up his chest to his throat again, growling playfully as she nips at his shoulder.

One hand dips between her legs, and she holds him in place, teasing him along her slit, painting warm honey on his skin.

'Like this?'

'However you like.'

He's at the point where he likes everything, especially the way her tits dangle down to his chest. He takes them in hand, and kisses her neck, then sucks at it gently as she plays him in her hand.

'I'm easily pleased, seein' as it's you.'

Which might be his way of saying, 'yes please, like that.'

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