[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.

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[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.