hell_in_highheels | [oom] New Moon

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ryan

[oom] New Moon

She's standing at the window, looking out over the Scottish landscape, watching the night sky. The moon is new, and without the competing light, the stars are spectacular. River kneels up on the window seat and touches the controls that bring the opacity down to zero. Starlight isn't as bright as moonlight, but it's still enough that she can make out the horizon. The landscape is stunning.

She settles back, sitting on her heels, arms crossed over her chest, hands rubbing her upper arms, smiling up at the night sky.

He said yes.

He said yes.

She can't help but wonder... What comes next?

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He gives her a dry little look.

"That's what I'm getting at. The only time I want to bite you is when I'm little more than instinct." He pauses. "I'd still rather nip your shoulder or sommat, though. For scarring reasons at the very least."

The other reason being in case he's wrong.

Her smile softens and her eyes search his face.

"I'm not worried about scars. And I'm not worried about you mistaking me for a bite of dessert. I trust you, Richard. With my life. And I trust your instincts."

And that's the difference between them, isn't it? He doesn't trust his instincts. Not that much, and she can see that on his face in the worry and doubt there.

At the same time, she seems to have her heart set on him doing it a certain way, and neither does he want to disappoint her. She only gets this opportunity once.

"Why don't we try and see what happens," he suggests at last.

She nods, her eyes closing for a moment. "And if it's not the right time, I trust you to know that, too. All right?"

She leans into him again, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down to whisper against his cheek.

"I love you, Richard." I love you.

Love you. It occurs to him this would be easier if he didn't. He wouldn't worry so much, then. Or at all.

He focuses on her scent again, gently nuzzling the line of her jaw.

Love and longing, concern and worry, passion and desire and joy. The same scents he smelled on her that second night, standing at his door at midnight.

She dances in his arms, kissing his cheek, breathing him in even as her heart races.

He spoke of claiming her. She wants that. She wants to claim him as well, in her own way.

He follows her jawline down, then abruptly cuts up before he can reach her chin. The kiss is long and slow, firm, but not particularly fierce.

That will come later.

Her eyes close as she meets his kiss. Her embrace tightens on him at first but gentles as it continues, her body melting against him.

Breathing him in, she lets him fill her senses.

He pulls her against him, fitting her from against his own. He breaks the kiss to plant small, gentle ones up her cheek and across the bone under her eye until he reaches her ear.

He whurfles into it, ducking his head a bit to get at the scent pocket behind, where the pulse was.

She grins broadly at the whurfle, laughing under her breath, her head curling towards him. One hand caresses the nape of his neck, fingertips tracing spirals.

The feel of his breath sends a cascade of goosebumps down her throat and across the tops of her shoulders. She takes a deep breath and sighs, a deeply contented sound.

That's not a bad sound. There are others she could be making, though.

"Bed?" he murmurs before gently scraping teeth against her neck in little nips.

The question sends a shiver through her frame, the sensation only heightened by the feel of his teeth. Her scent flares with the wild hunger she feels for him. She pulls away just enough to meet his eyes, hands fisting in his shirt. Her voice is thick with emotion.

"Yes, please."

"All right."

The only warning she gets is a little mischievous grin.

Then in one smooth, quick movement, he's swept her up into a fireman's carry and headed off towards the bedroom.

Dom perks his ears as they exit the study. The alphas are being silly again.

"Richard!"

She barely gets out a gasp before she's upside down over his shoulder, her heels kicking in free air. She's grinning, laughing breathlessly, her fists pounding playfully on his back.

He practises his innocent tone. "Yes?"

Dom gets a silent greeting and then they're past the couch and almost to the door.

He has cause to move quickly.

He can tell by her scent she has no complaint. She loves this side of him, direct and unequivocal.

"I know where the bedroom is! And I'm not a sack of potatoes!"

"I am most definitely aware of that," he practically purrs, turning his head to nip her hip.

He's careful when he slips through the doorway to not bump any part of her on the frame. It wouldn't do to knock her out when the bed's right there.

He pauses just inside. "It'd be a shame to muss the covers. We made the bed so neatly this morning."

There's a little squeak at the nip. "Richard! The covers will survive. Put me down!"

She is laughing so hard she can barely breathe, squirming just enough to make a good show of it.

Dramatic sigh.

"If you insist." He sidles to the bed, then leans toward the shoulder she's on. With one arm up to control her fall, she slides off his shoulder and onto the comforter.

"Better?" His fingers trail paths along her legs.

"Almost," she purrs, pushing up to her elbows and inching higher on the bed.

She reaches up with a toe to pluck at whatever fabric she can reach, biting her lip as she looks up at him.

He sits in the little open space there is between her and the edge of the bed.

Is he really going to do this?

He twists, leaning in towards her for another kiss.

He thinks he is.

This kiss is a little fiercer than the last, and he pushes against her. His waist can only twist so far, though, and soon he has one leg on the bed so he isn't quite so contorted.

She can't ever get enough of touching him. She meets that kiss with her own ferocity, eager hands reaching for him, pulling him close.

She's not thinking about the bite anymore. She's thinking about how good he smells, summer rain falling on forge stones. She's thinking that a hundred years in exile was a small price to pay for the privilege of being right here, right now.

I never want this to end.

And then she's not thinking at all, she's kissing him and he's kissing her back.

He can't quite rid himself of all thought just yet. The bite hovers at the edge of his mind, just there as he distracts himself with other things.

Like her lips working at his and rolling her onto her back so he can get on the bed proper. He still ends up being partly over her, but that's all right.

...these clothes need to start coming off. He starts questing for buttons and zips.

She helps, and there's a fluidity to their movements, a few months worth of familiarity that eases their way.

Her hands slip beneath his shirt, easing it over his ribs and up over his shoulders, their kiss barely faltering as she pulls it over his head and throws it away. Her blouse follows suit, and then she's nuzzling his ear, kissing the hollow beneath his jaw, her hands stroking the bare skin of his chest.

"Talk to me," she whispers. "I love the sound of your voice."

"I hope that's not all you love," he teases, lipping down her throat and to her chest. He starts licking in patterns and blowing air across them.

"What else?"

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