[Aha. He bites at his lower lip for a moment as his smile persists, sitting back on his heels as she playfully pushes him and shifting just enough to give her room to maneuver. Briefly, he considers her offer before he retracts his hand from her waist, however reluctantly.]
That's going to be quite a challenge.
[There's a spark in his gaze, however, that tells her it's not one he's about to back down from. He watches her with heat in his eyes— it will be difficult not to reach out and touch her on instinct, but if she wants to toy with him, he'll gladly play along.]
[There are other delicious things in mind she could do to him while he's obediently immobile, but those can be done later.
(Later. What a novel and reassuring thought.)
He shouldn't lose himself too quickly, not when she's sure they both want to be intertwined as closely as possible. And so she leans forward to let her lips kiss a trail across his collarbone, stopping at the curve of his neck to nibble playfully. At the same time, she reaches down to wrap her fingers gently around his cock, testing him with a few luxurious strokes.
It's both a relief and sweet torment, a prelude to the rest of the night.]
[He believes himself to be prepared for what it will feel like to have her hands on him for the first time in months, to finally be able to indulge in what he's been fighting against so fruitlessly, but the truth is that nothing can prepare him for just how exquisite even the faintest touch feels after so much time spent yearning— the warm press of her lips against his collar makes something pull pleasantly tight between his shoulders, the gentle curl of her fingers around his length not enough to offer true relief, but full of temptation and promise.
Not touching her is going to be much, much more difficult than he'd first thought.
He lets a shuddering exhale of breath escape him as she takes him in slow, taunting strokes, the nip of her teeth at his neck drawing a strained groan from him lips as he tips his head back. Fighting the urge to give in to instinct, he reaches to grab at the bedclothes on either side of him, his knuckles paling with the effort to keep his hands occupied.]
That's...
[He makes a sound that's half halting breath, half laughter.]
[How is it possible to be this enamored with one person more than once in a lifetime? She should feel ridiculous for being addled with this much desire, but there isn't any room in her mind for anyone else, but him. Over the days, weeks, and months within each other's gravity, any sentimental notions had been buried so deeply within her that it's no wonder that it's burst out and overflowing. The truth in her heart is expressed in every breath and every touch.
The shudder in his body reaches hers and she breathes heatedly into his neck as she pampers him with her pull a few more times before bringing the foil packet to her mouth and delicately ripping it open with her teeth.]
I should hope it's nice.
[And with some surprising skill (not to mention, more sensation), she pushes and slides the condom down onto his length with both hands without needing to look down.]
I feel like I've a lot to make up for... So I could keep teasing you. [She hasn't let go of him yet, opting to lift up her head to whisper into his ear. One of her thumbs, brushes in small circles at the tip of his hardness; just one more push, just one last urging.]
[The way they've arranged themselves makes it difficult for him to buck into her touch, though doing so wouldn't quite be in the spirit of their agreement; his breath hitches with every pull, another soft groan escaping him as she tease and taunts, each touch blessedly sweet torture, her breath against his skin driving him wild. The sight of her tearing open the packet with her teeth does the same, brings something primal in him to life, his gaze heavy with lust and an underlying adoration as he watches her every move with bated breath.
His head drops back as she pulls a long, drawn groan from him, practical measures heightened into something far more with the fluidity of her touch, the lilt of her voice pulling at him, and there's a trembling in his arms thanks to the amount of effort it takes to still himself and rise to the challenge. When she whispers in his ear, the playful teasing and heat of her breath are almost enough to make that last bit of control fray all on their own— it's that last brutal tease against his arousal that tips him over the edge and makes his last remaining thread of willpower snap, and all of a sudden his arm is around her waist and she's on her back with him bearing down on her, his movement charged like that of a predator who had been coiled and waiting to pounce.]
A dangerous question to ask a starving man.
[There's a raw edge to his voice, a low rumble of a laugh just beneath it, and he claims her mouth in a searing kiss as he runs one hand along the underside of her thigh so that he can take hold just behind her knee and hike it upwards to drape against his hip.]
I think you want to be devoured.
[There's mischief in his gaze along with all the rest, and he teases against her entrance with his thumb before guiding himself to it, not bothering to stifle the groaning exhale of pleasure that escapes him as he slowly sinks into her, inch by blissful inch.]
[He takes her by surprise with his sudden and decisive movement, but it's more than welcome if her hands reaching up to cup his face adoringly is any indication. As he hovers above her, a million thoughts rush through her mind, all of it having to do with what she sees before her.
The rawness of his voice, the strands of hair that hang down his forehead with longer ones stuck to his neck, the streaks of lighter color that run throughout, the faint gleam of his single earring, the sound of the rain hammering against the window, the plane of his broad chest, the tattoo that runs across it, his hands against her thigh, his dark gaze that hypnotizes her completely, making her want to be devouredโ
None of this affection should be good for her. It's too much, perhaps, to feel like this for one person and she should know, having gone through the tumultuous woes of what she thought would be her only love of a lifetime. It wasn't a distraction anymore, but was obsession any better?
But as he kisses her, the second guessing and doubts disappear like smoke in the air. The physicality and intimacy they now had between them had a certainty to it that couldn't be contested anymore and she kisses him back unabashedly, still in awe of how much he hungers for her.
As he penetrates her inch by inch, she might have cried out his name, filled the room with her voice again, colored by ecstasy. She can't tell what her voice sounds like, not as her arms wrap around his back and not as she focuses on the sharp burn that's followed by the sublime sensation of him inside her. Her panting is insatiable and she curls and rolls beneath him, readjusting to his body as if it was something entirely new. It is, and it isn't, of course, but perhaps that's why there's a tad bit of impatience as she shamelessly makes another demand.]
Justโ [There's a sharp intake of breath as she tries not to be overwhelmed yet.]
Move already. I wantโ
[If nothing else, she wants him to make good on his promise to make sure neither of them have a breath left in their bodies. Let it be said that she won't let him off the hook if it's anything less than that.]
[Time seems to hang in perfect suspension as they become intimately entwined; he doesn't know how many seconds pass as he fills her and his vision goes blinding white, the sound of her voice wrapping itself around him— God, how long has he wanted to hear her cry his name like that without allowing himself to admit it?
It has occurred to him that perhaps he has allowed himself to fall too hard, too completely; it is a fool who does not learn from his past and come to exercise caution, and yet with her he feels no need for it. He would gladly make a fool of himself a thousand times over if it meant hearing his name on her lips, feeling her touch against his skin and her fingers in his hair, seeing in those emerald eyes what she shows only a chosen few.
Her demand brings him back to the present; he lets out a breathless laugh, half-incredulous as he buries his face against the curve of her neck and exhales a pleasant groan, having bottomed out and buried himself in the tight, welcoming heat of her, the writhe of her body beneath his tempting him to perhaps offer more than she might be ready for.
That demand, however, is one he will gladly meet.]
I want you.
[He finishes the statement for her, his breath hot against her skin, and he keeps her thigh hiked up against his waist as he rolls his hips into her, a tantalizingly slow but steady start as he builds to a deep, purposeful rhythm. He palms at her breast as he murmurs her name against her ear; he plans to fulfill that promise of his entirely, and he doesn't intend to rush in doing so— though the weeks and months of being in one another's orbit, unable to be honest with one another makes restraint something of a challenge.]
[As he begins to move with a torturously slow rhythm, she muffles her voice with the back of one hand while the other falls to her side to cling to the sheets beneath. It's on purpose, she knows, after all those months without each other's touch. Even as he reacquaints himself with her body, it's as if every part of him had been prepared to hold, cherish, and ravage her thoroughly.
She gasps out a retort at his words, embarrassed, but pleased by the compliment as she thrusts her hips back into his with equal voraciousness.]
You, ought to knowโ
[She's interrupted by the stimulation and exquisite heat of him striking her in all the right places, makes another smokey groan escape into the air.]
โbetter then to let an impatient woman make you like this.
[How could he be so many wonderful things at once and for her alone? The slowness is enflaming her and she tries not to let her voice out again, tries to hold out from begging for more. But shy words escape her anyways, her eyes glazing over from being entwined so tightly, their bodies having no beginning or end.]
[Even breathless, there is a note of teasing satisfaction in his voice, that impatience of hers lighting a spark in him. Perhaps he should know better, but if he had, he would not be where he is now— and he would not trade this for anything. Each sound that escapes her, every word and breath pulls at him and leaves him lightheaded, senseless.
He grips at the bedcovers with one hand, fingers curling tightly into a fist as the continuous roll of his hips begins to pick up speed, altering so that their movement complements one another, allows him to bury himself deeper as he pushes her hips into the mattress. That she can still sound shy when they're entangled like this only serves to drive him wild, awakens something in him that longs to bring her to the edge again and again until he hears her voice break. They've found a rhythm together now, and he braces a hand against her hip so that they can keep pace with one another, his heart racing as he loses himself in tight heat, in the hitch of her breath and beautifully flushed skin.]
You feel... incredible...
[His own words are bordering on strained, his breath halting, but he still manages to bow his back and lean in to claim a heated kiss, messier than it would have been if he were more composed.]
[A sound akin to a whine springs from her throat as he teases, rendering her incapable of responding with words as he moves quicker and deeper inside her. Now they're nothing, but heat, rhythmic flesh, desire, and compulsion and if her heart has already burst, it was ready to do so again as she embraces him with her arms, nails finding purchase in his back and kissing him back desperately.
There were many things she didn't deserve in her life after losing someone so precious and she had resolved to live her life as a glass half-empty. But this man, whose beautiful shoulder blades are in her grasp, had entered her orbit, rewriting her story and filled her again and again, in heart, mind, and now body. It was passionate, filthy, gentle, imperfect, and loving all at once and somewhere in her mind, she finally lets herself hope and visualize for a future that had him in it.
Keep telling me what you like.
His words, spoken into her mouth as they messily kiss bring her back, seeing and feeling him even more vividly than before.]
I...
[Her eyes widen as she realizes in a split second that she's about to unravel as her hips involuntary starts to shake, muscles flexing and tightening around him. She was achingly full of him and the constant rhythm of his body, striking her in all the right places, has pushed her to the furthest edge.]
I'm coโ!!
[With a strangled cry, she comes, clenching, nails biting into his back. Pleasure bombards her and she swears she can see colors inside of her eyelids as she squeezes them shut, clinging to him, unable to, no, not wanting to let go.
Past her would have wanted to turn back time, to make things right.
[It's sudden, even with her attempt to warn him, and he feels his heart pound faster yet as she tightens around him while he quickens his pace, lost in the heat and scent of her, the sweet sound of her voice, the press of nails against his skin, a thousand little things he yearns to commit to memory. His own breath comes ragged as she clings to him, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter as he continues to thrust through her climax, knowing his own is fast approaching— she's so warm and tight and soft beneath him, and for a moment, he feels like she is unquestionably his, every doubt about what they might have together banished, if only for now.
He hits his own peak as she cleaves to him, a raw groan escaping him as he greedily claims another kiss, his teeth catching against her lower lip as the roll of his hips falters one last time before he buries himself deep, bucking into her as he spends himself. There are no thoughts as the moment takes him, but it is a welcome and blissful sort of emptiness, warm instead of vast and lonely.
Several moments pass before he starts to regain himself, his heart still racing as he seeks to kiss her without pulling out, happy to remain entangled as long as they can manage.]
You are stunning.
[Some part of him had wanted this since the first time they had been forced to part ways, and even so, the reality of being with her has surpassed every hope, every expectation.]
[Her mind is blank as she rides the rest of her high, hips mindlessly rolling into his, enveloped in what feels like never ending heat. As he buries himself deep, the only thoughts that come up to the surface as he reaches his climax, are how rich his voice was and how wonderful his lips tastes. She basks in his embrace and adoration and everything else that remains unsaid for now.
There's not an ounce of guilt to be found as he winds down and stays entangled with her. Her hands move up and down his spine and pauses to rub and massage his shoulder blades as she returns his kisses, wondering if she would ever tire of them.
And when he calls her stunning, she knows that she never will.
Finding the need to catch her breath a little more, she takes one hand and moves her fingers to trace his lower lip.]
You are audacious.
[It's said tiredly, but soft and sweet, even for her. She does want to hold him all night, so she makes that clear by kissing her way around his jawline and down the base of his throat.]
And I hope you want more of me.
[It will be another long night, one that they deserved after far too long.]
[He laughs against the brush of her fingers; it's a compliment as much as an admonishment, and his smile pulls wide, causing that crinkling at the corners of his eyes that always manage to appear in those truly joyful moments, his lips gently puckering against her fingertips.
Every touch is a balm, the press of her fingers against his shoulderblades reaching deeper than he knew to be possible, and the trail of her lips along his jaw and down the column of his throat threatens to send another shiver through him, just as surely as that soft lilt in her voice does. A soft noise sounds at the back of his throat, his skin flush beneath her lips.]
I assure you, it will take far, far more than that to sate me.
[He raises a hand to lightly brush some of her hair back from her brow; he's sure they both look a sight at this point, and the night is still young, by all accounts. He runs a hand over the curve of her hip and beneath the thigh that's dropped beneath his own waist, his gaze heavy with admiration and sheer wanting as she reaches the base of his throat.]
[She lets out an indignant huff and lays back down to look at him as he brushes back her hair. Her heart swells at the sight of him, joyful and content, but ready for even more of her.
And not surprisingly, Amelia finds that she has much more to give. If it can bring out that smile that's only for her, the gaze that marks her his world, than she would give in to him again and again, then it would be worth all the pain and directionless guilt that they were mired in.
There's something to be said about fate and fortune, boldness, braveness, and she wants to construct a poem out of the moment between them and their second long night butโ
"Donโt leave now that youโre hereโ Stay. So the world may become like itself again:"
The Ahmed Faiz poem comes back full circle.
And as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, drinks in his lips with an eternal thirst, and gives her touch, body, and voice to him, the world becomes not just itself again, but something new.
Beautiful, vast, and like a sea of stars waiting to be explored.]
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sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
no subject
That's going to be quite a challenge.
[There's a spark in his gaze, however, that tells her it's not one he's about to back down from. He watches her with heat in his eyes— it will be difficult not to reach out and touch her on instinct, but if she wants to toy with him, he'll gladly play along.]
There's one way to find out, then, isn't there?
no subject
[There are other delicious things in mind she could do to him while he's obediently immobile, but those can be done later.
(Later. What a novel and reassuring thought.)
He shouldn't lose himself too quickly, not when she's sure they both want to be intertwined as closely as possible. And so she leans forward to let her lips kiss a trail across his collarbone, stopping at the curve of his neck to nibble playfully. At the same time, she reaches down to wrap her fingers gently around his cock, testing him with a few luxurious strokes.
It's both a relief and sweet torment, a prelude to the rest of the night.]
no subject
Not touching her is going to be much, much more difficult than he'd first thought.
He lets a shuddering exhale of breath escape him as she takes him in slow, taunting strokes, the nip of her teeth at his neck drawing a strained groan from him lips as he tips his head back. Fighting the urge to give in to instinct, he reaches to grab at the bedclothes on either side of him, his knuckles paling with the effort to keep his hands occupied.]
That's...
[He makes a sound that's half halting breath, half laughter.]
Very nice.
no subject
The shudder in his body reaches hers and she breathes heatedly into his neck as she pampers him with her pull a few more times before bringing the foil packet to her mouth and delicately ripping it open with her teeth.]
I should hope it's nice.
[And with some surprising skill (not to mention, more sensation), she pushes and slides the condom down onto his length with both hands without needing to look down.]
I feel like I've a lot to make up for... So I could keep teasing you. [She hasn't let go of him yet, opting to lift up her head to whisper into his ear. One of her thumbs, brushes in small circles at the tip of his hardness; just one more push, just one last urging.]
Or you can eat up now. What would you like?
no subject
His head drops back as she pulls a long, drawn groan from him, practical measures heightened into something far more with the fluidity of her touch, the lilt of her voice pulling at him, and there's a trembling in his arms thanks to the amount of effort it takes to still himself and rise to the challenge. When she whispers in his ear, the playful teasing and heat of her breath are almost enough to make that last bit of control fray all on their own— it's that last brutal tease against his arousal that tips him over the edge and makes his last remaining thread of willpower snap, and all of a sudden his arm is around her waist and she's on her back with him bearing down on her, his movement charged like that of a predator who had been coiled and waiting to pounce.]
A dangerous question to ask a starving man.
[There's a raw edge to his voice, a low rumble of a laugh just beneath it, and he claims her mouth in a searing kiss as he runs one hand along the underside of her thigh so that he can take hold just behind her knee and hike it upwards to drape against his hip.]
I think you want to be devoured.
[There's mischief in his gaze along with all the rest, and he teases against her entrance with his thumb before guiding himself to it, not bothering to stifle the groaning exhale of pleasure that escapes him as he slowly sinks into her, inch by blissful inch.]
no subject
The rawness of his voice, the strands of hair that hang down his forehead with longer ones stuck to his neck, the streaks of lighter color that run throughout, the faint gleam of his single earring, the sound of the rain hammering against the window, the plane of his broad chest, the tattoo that runs across it, his hands against her thigh, his dark gaze that hypnotizes her completely, making her want to be devouredโ
None of this affection should be good for her. It's too much, perhaps, to feel like this for one person and she should know, having gone through the tumultuous woes of what she thought would be her only love of a lifetime. It wasn't a distraction anymore, but was obsession any better?
But as he kisses her, the second guessing and doubts disappear like smoke in the air. The physicality and intimacy they now had between them had a certainty to it that couldn't be contested anymore and she kisses him back unabashedly, still in awe of how much he hungers for her.
As he penetrates her inch by inch, she might have cried out his name, filled the room with her voice again, colored by ecstasy. She can't tell what her voice sounds like, not as her arms wrap around his back and not as she focuses on the sharp burn that's followed by the sublime sensation of him inside her. Her panting is insatiable and she curls and rolls beneath him, readjusting to his body as if it was something entirely new. It is, and it isn't, of course, but perhaps that's why there's a tad bit of impatience as she shamelessly makes another demand.]
Justโ [There's a sharp intake of breath as she tries not to be overwhelmed yet.]
Move already. I wantโ
[If nothing else, she wants him to make good on his promise to make sure neither of them have a breath left in their bodies. Let it be said that she won't let him off the hook if it's anything less than that.]
no subject
It has occurred to him that perhaps he has allowed himself to fall too hard, too completely; it is a fool who does not learn from his past and come to exercise caution, and yet with her he feels no need for it. He would gladly make a fool of himself a thousand times over if it meant hearing his name on her lips, feeling her touch against his skin and her fingers in his hair, seeing in those emerald eyes what she shows only a chosen few.
Her demand brings him back to the present; he lets out a breathless laugh, half-incredulous as he buries his face against the curve of her neck and exhales a pleasant groan, having bottomed out and buried himself in the tight, welcoming heat of her, the writhe of her body beneath his tempting him to perhaps offer more than she might be ready for.
That demand, however, is one he will gladly meet.]
I want you.
[He finishes the statement for her, his breath hot against her skin, and he keeps her thigh hiked up against his waist as he rolls his hips into her, a tantalizingly slow but steady start as he builds to a deep, purposeful rhythm. He palms at her breast as he murmurs her name against her ear; he plans to fulfill that promise of his entirely, and he doesn't intend to rush in doing so— though the weeks and months of being in one another's orbit, unable to be honest with one another makes restraint something of a challenge.]
Beautiful, even when you're impatient.
[Perhaps especially then.]
no subject
She gasps out a retort at his words, embarrassed, but pleased by the compliment as she thrusts her hips back into his with equal voraciousness.]
You, ought to knowโ
[She's interrupted by the stimulation and exquisite heat of him striking her in all the right places, makes another smokey groan escape into the air.]
โbetter then to let an impatient woman make you like this.
[How could he be so many wonderful things at once and for her alone? The slowness is enflaming her and she tries not to let her voice out again, tries to hold out from begging for more. But shy words escape her anyways, her eyes glazing over from being entwined so tightly, their bodies having no beginning or end.]
You feel so good...
no subject
[Even breathless, there is a note of teasing satisfaction in his voice, that impatience of hers lighting a spark in him. Perhaps he should know better, but if he had, he would not be where he is now— and he would not trade this for anything. Each sound that escapes her, every word and breath pulls at him and leaves him lightheaded, senseless.
He grips at the bedcovers with one hand, fingers curling tightly into a fist as the continuous roll of his hips begins to pick up speed, altering so that their movement complements one another, allows him to bury himself deeper as he pushes her hips into the mattress. That she can still sound shy when they're entangled like this only serves to drive him wild, awakens something in him that longs to bring her to the edge again and again until he hears her voice break. They've found a rhythm together now, and he braces a hand against her hip so that they can keep pace with one another, his heart racing as he loses himself in tight heat, in the hitch of her breath and beautifully flushed skin.]
You feel... incredible...
[His own words are bordering on strained, his breath halting, but he still manages to bow his back and lean in to claim a heated kiss, messier than it would have been if he were more composed.]
Keep telling me what you like.
no subject
There were many things she didn't deserve in her life after losing someone so precious and she had resolved to live her life as a glass half-empty. But this man, whose beautiful shoulder blades are in her grasp, had entered her orbit, rewriting her story and filled her again and again, in heart, mind, and now body. It was passionate, filthy, gentle, imperfect, and loving all at once and somewhere in her mind, she finally lets herself hope and visualize for a future that had him in it.
Keep telling me what you like.
His words, spoken into her mouth as they messily kiss bring her back, seeing and feeling him even more vividly than before.]
I...
[Her eyes widen as she realizes in a split second that she's about to unravel as her hips involuntary starts to shake, muscles flexing and tightening around him. She was achingly full of him and the constant rhythm of his body, striking her in all the right places, has pushed her to the furthest edge.]
I'm coโ!!
[With a strangled cry, she comes, clenching, nails biting into his back. Pleasure bombards her and she swears she can see colors inside of her eyelids as she squeezes them shut, clinging to him, unable to, no, not wanting to let go.
Past her would have wanted to turn back time, to make things right.
Present her would not trade any of this.]
no subject
He hits his own peak as she cleaves to him, a raw groan escaping him as he greedily claims another kiss, his teeth catching against her lower lip as the roll of his hips falters one last time before he buries himself deep, bucking into her as he spends himself. There are no thoughts as the moment takes him, but it is a welcome and blissful sort of emptiness, warm instead of vast and lonely.
Several moments pass before he starts to regain himself, his heart still racing as he seeks to kiss her without pulling out, happy to remain entangled as long as they can manage.]
You are stunning.
[Some part of him had wanted this since the first time they had been forced to part ways, and even so, the reality of being with her has surpassed every hope, every expectation.]
no subject
There's not an ounce of guilt to be found as he winds down and stays entangled with her. Her hands move up and down his spine and pauses to rub and massage his shoulder blades as she returns his kisses, wondering if she would ever tire of them.
And when he calls her stunning, she knows that she never will.
Finding the need to catch her breath a little more, she takes one hand and moves her fingers to trace his lower lip.]
You are audacious.
[It's said tiredly, but soft and sweet, even for her. She does want to hold him all night, so she makes that clear by kissing her way around his jawline and down the base of his throat.]
And I hope you want more of me.
[It will be another long night, one that they deserved after far too long.]
no subject
[He laughs against the brush of her fingers; it's a compliment as much as an admonishment, and his smile pulls wide, causing that crinkling at the corners of his eyes that always manage to appear in those truly joyful moments, his lips gently puckering against her fingertips.
Every touch is a balm, the press of her fingers against his shoulderblades reaching deeper than he knew to be possible, and the trail of her lips along his jaw and down the column of his throat threatens to send another shiver through him, just as surely as that soft lilt in her voice does. A soft noise sounds at the back of his throat, his skin flush beneath her lips.]
I assure you, it will take far, far more than that to sate me.
[He raises a hand to lightly brush some of her hair back from her brow; he's sure they both look a sight at this point, and the night is still young, by all accounts. He runs a hand over the curve of her hip and beneath the thigh that's dropped beneath his own waist, his gaze heavy with admiration and sheer wanting as she reaches the base of his throat.]
I want as much of you as I can possibly get.
๐
And not surprisingly, Amelia finds that she has much more to give. If it can bring out that smile that's only for her, the gaze that marks her his world, than she would give in to him again and again, then it would be worth all the pain and directionless guilt that they were mired in.
There's something to be said about fate and fortune, boldness, braveness, and she wants to construct a poem out of the moment between them and their second long night butโ
"Donโt leave now that youโre hereโ
Stay. So the world may become like itself again:"
The Ahmed Faiz poem comes back full circle.
And as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, drinks in his lips with an eternal thirst, and gives her touch, body, and voice to him, the world becomes not just itself again, but something new.
Beautiful, vast, and like a sea of stars waiting to be explored.]