[oom: Dinner with captainryan]

[hell_in_highheels]

[from here]

River arrives in the bar just before seven in the evening, and secures a table for two in a cozy corner of the bar.  She's dressed casually, wearing her favourite Irish sweater, jeans and her tan field boots.  But she has to confess, she's spent a bit more time with her hair and her face.

For as interesting as Richard is, he is also a good looking man.

She orders a glass of pinot noir, and waits, watching the faces in the crowd.  When she sees him, she smiles broadly and holds up a hand.

Comments

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Oh. Okay. He can work with that, as she can probably tell by his sudden hardness.

He lets his fingertips trail down her body again, lightly dancing across her skin. His mouth kisses at the nape of her neck with the barest grazing of teeth.

[hell_in_highheels]

River's eyes close and she moans softly, her head tipping to expose more skin to his mouth. A shudder moves through her as her body strains toward his touch. There is a subtle but unmistakable motion in her hips as she rocks gently against him.

She guides his hand to her breast, covering it with her own.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He massages it gently and slowly, exploring the weight under both their hands.

His hips respond in kind, matching the minimalist motion. He kisses her neck more firmly, now, drawing blood to just under the surface of her skin, marking her in a brand new way.

[hell_in_highheels]

She gasps, her hand abandoning his to its exploration, rising to cradle his head. He might as well brand her with his initials, she thinks.

Heat is rising in her skin again, and she arches her back a bit more, still dancing slowly. Between the heat of his mouth and the hardness of his cock, her awareness is stretched taut as piano wire.

He already owns her, she thinks. Without question. Without hesitation. Without even a second thought. She belongs to him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He blows gently over the wet spots he's left, recreating them when they disappear and starting the whole process over again.

This evening has been surprising. If she leaves him tomorrow he'll be distraught, but he's also fairly certain he'll still be glad to have met her.

The trick is making her not want to leave.

His hips are moving a bit more firmly, now, requesting access.

[hell_in_highheels]

There is no higher thought going on in River's head. All she can process is how good his touch feels, how wonderful it feels to be the focus of his attention, his intent.

Distantly, there is a bit of sensible fear at the strength of her emotions, the desire she feels for him, but for her, fear has never been a reason to run away.

Her head curls towards the touch of his lips. She closes her eyes, shifting as she tilts her hips to receive him. Her voice telegraphs her pleasure, a low sigh that grows to a decadent moan.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He continues nibbling at her nape, moving further to the side so he's at the side of her throat. He can take advantage of her ear from here.

He enters her smoothly and fully, at the same time nuzzling the area just behind her jaw.

[hell_in_highheels]

A new angle means new sensations, and the touch of his mouth, the sound of his voice in her ear, all of it overwhelms her for a moment.

She holds tight to his arm, arched like a bow in his embrace. She whispers his name with a hint of quiet desperation.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I'm here," he whispers back, making himself known by sliding back and forth. He still has one hand on her breast, holding her, squeezing her, his lips busy tugging at her ear.

He half moans, half pants her name.

[hell_in_highheels]

His voice anchors her, even as it sets her alight. It is a long slow burn this time, and she rides the ascending spiral, dancing with him, all sense of time falling away.

Her motions gradually grow more insistent, and a shaky hand drags his fingers down between her thighs. "Touch me."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's gentle as his fingers begin a whole new exploration. He knows how rough his hands are, how sensitive she'll be, and he doesn't want to rush in.

He brushes against her with the barest edge of his fingertips, slowly searching for his target, depending on her reaction to know when he's found it.

[hell_in_highheels]

She is wet to the touch, musky to his nose, blood warm and slick against his fingertips. He knows the moment he's found her pearl, that eager little bit of flesh standing up for his caress, as she shudders and moans.

Her hips stutter in their dance. Her body can't decide which way to push for more attention. He can feel her pulsing around him in concert with his touches, her head pressed tight against his shoulder. She is trembling on the razor's edge, hanging on his every breath.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He can scent her indecision and he plays off of it, stroking and pushing all at once, not letting her choose but giving her both.

He bites the back of her neck, losing himself in the motions and smells. She's his in every way, and he's going to make sure she knows and wants it that way.

[hell_in_highheels]

This is the place she never wants to leave. This place where he is wrapped around her so thoroughly, she is consumed by him. She is filled with his heat, gripped with his intensity. She's allowed to let go here. She's safe in his arms.

She has no language left when she begins to dissolve, only a string of incoherent syllables, a litany of bliss that ascends to a thin keening cry.

She unravels slowly. The tremors start beneath his fingertips, echoing where she grips him, spreading down her thighs and up her spine, rolling like thunder throughout her entire body until she is quaking with pleasure, arching hard against him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He rocks against her, short moaning exhalations growing louder on every thrust. His fingers stroke faster, trying to give her more, take her higher.

She bucks against him and his teeth tighten their grip on her skin, careful not to puncture anything. His.

His.

[hell_in_highheels]

Just when she thinks she's hit the plateau, he asks, no, he demands this of her, and she gives it to him, willingly. Each penetrating stroke drives her up into a halo of pure ecstasy, and his flickering touch drives her higher still.

The sweet pain of his sharp teeth in her shoulder, fixes her in that moment.

She shudders hard, gasping for breath.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He snaps his teeth open before he bites any harder, panting, groaning against the marks he's left. He doesn't know if he can take her any higher. He doesn't think he can last any longer to find out.

He drives into her one last time and releases, howling his pleasure and possession to the world.

A moment later, a howl from the foot of the bed joins in.

[hell_in_highheels]

River holds tight to him, breathless, boneless, revelling in the sound of his pleasure. She cannot help but grin at the sound of the second voice, but she doesn't have the breath to laugh.

She turns her head to kiss his head, nuzzling, holding his arm tight across her chest.

Gliding back to earth, she gives herself over to the powerful emotion unfolding behind in her breastbone. A strange combination of surrender and trust, joy and a rightness about the world, now that he's here. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ryan just rolls his eyes at the dog. He's still breathing hard from his exertions but he manages to kiss her lightly along her lips and up her jawline. He's content with that, light little touches that let him taste her while he catches his breath.

More than content. He never wants this to end.

He settles his head behind hers, buried in her hair and breathing her scent in.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her breathing slows, and she listens to the sound of his breath, unconsciously matching inhalation and exhalation. Sleep now. More later.

Definitely more later, she thinks, a drowsy smile on her lips.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He stays awake for a time, just feeling her breathe in his arms. His eyes are already closed to keep her hair from them and it's not long before he starts to doze.

He needs to repeat this exercise sooner rather than later, is one of his last thoughts.