[oom] Room 417

[hell_in_highheels]

[cont'd from here]

He runs through his mental check-list one more time while wondering if he's missed something or if he could add something else. Fireplace. He turns the flames on, setting them to low and casting faint shadows across the furniture.

Perfect. He heads for the door and puts one hand on the knob before he smirks and leans against the wall instead.

"Who is it?"

She remembers the first time she stood here, her heart in her throat, wondering just what it was she was going to say to convince him to let her stay.  A smile spreads across her face.  She lays one hand flat on the door, and rests her forehead against the frame*. 

"Three guesses, first two don't count."



*The other hand has been claimed by a certain obstinate doberman.   His dog, indeed.

Comments

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Fuck yes." He finally gets the clasp open and roughly tugs down the fabric hiding her.

"We haven't even done the sex bit yet," he adds with a quick grin, kissing her lips possessively. His hands glide over her thighs and ass, long familiar territory though it has been satisfying to feel them grow more lean and muscular over the weeks.

Heaven.

[hell_in_highheels]

Bliss. Her eyes close and she meets his kiss, returns it slow and deep, feeling the layers fall away, allowed to let go here. Safe in his arms.

She growls again as her lips pull at his mouth. Her thighs clench beneath his hands and she arches her back, offering herself to him.

Never let you go.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Never going to let you.

Dammit, why are his trousers always the last thing to get pulled off?

He pushes them both up and flips them over so she's on the bottom and his legs are free. He leans over her, kissing and nibbling her head, throat, chest. He'd planned on undoing his trousers but he finds his hands distracted by her warm skin, her scent spooling off into the air and making mere fabric the farthest thing from his mind.

[hell_in_highheels]

She gasps, laughs out loud as he lifts her, never failing to be amazed at how strong he really is. The laugh melts into a sigh as he kisses her face and throat, a low whine as his mouth finds her breasts, his hands running over her like fire, like a dream, like he's memorising her. Like he's reading all her secrets with his fingertips, and she's trying to read him, her hands stroking over his hair, down his neck and shoulders.

can't get enough of touching you, can't ever get enough of you

His scent is changing, deepening, growing richer, drawing her in, binding her to this moment. She presses her nose into his hair, inhaling deeply.

Her hands smooth down his chest, over his scars, catching the button of his trousers and undoing it, teasing him for a moment, pressing her palm against his hard length through the fabric. She wants to hear his voice again, wants to feel his strength.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

A low, pleased rumble rolls its way out of his chest, hitching higher as the pressure against him increases. He pushes against her hand as he draws blood from her throat again, quivering in anticipation. He roughly licks the droplets away, pushing her into the cushions.

want you so much, mine now and forever, never let you go

The bite at his shoulder sings, the tatters of his shirt restrict his movement ever so slightly, and his hands hold her waist as he rocks against her.

[hell_in_highheels]

He's marking her skin again, claiming her, and the fresh blood scent is in the air. The voice drawn from her throat sounds alien to her own ears, but it feels right. Half-whine, half-growl, she bends her mouth to his wound, the taste of him and the scent of him mingling on her palate, driving her even higher. Gently, she presses her teeth to his skin, not biting, but holding him.

never let you go. mine.

Her hands seek over his skin, pushing his trousers over his hips, wanting his flanks under her palms, wanting to feel the muscle moving beneath his (hide). She shifts beneath him, aligning her body with his, tearing the rest of his shirt away, her touch a bit more urgent now.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He stills a bit under her teeth's hold, movements turning more slow and precise but not ceasing. A little torn flesh is worth it.

He has one hand on her hip and the other on the couch behind her as he slowly eases down, allowing her teeth to control him some. He brushes against her, nearly clumsy with alcohol as he kisses and nibbles on her ear, soaking in the scent pocket there.

Her musk reaches him, strong and spell-binding, distracting him utterly from her mouth at his throat. He lowers himself into warmth with a faint groan.

[hell_in_highheels]

The touch of his heat against her flesh sends a shock of pleasure through her, and she whimpers with the intensity of it, releasing her grip on his throat.

"Richard..."
Love.

Her breath feathers over his jaw, canine and human spoken as one word. The scent rolling off him is so rich, so intense, she thinks she'll die if she can't have another breath of it. Her whole body ripples, new muscle arching her torso hard against his chest, sending tremors all the way down to her splayed fingertips. Even her heels quiver against his thighs as she draws him into her body.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Mine, is all he whispers back, free to move as he will now that her teeth are out of him.

His right hand supports his weight while his left holds her to him. His hips rock against her, into her, driving his passion higher even as he tries to push her deeper into the cushions.

All he wants is her.

[hell_in_highheels]

All she wants is him. Here, now, this.

Her breath is a shuddering sigh against his skin, telegraphing the motion of his hips, the sweet rush of pleasure pooling in her belly. Her hands grip his shoulder and the back of his neck, her heels dig into his glutes, her hips rising to meet him on each downstroke.

Every touch, every aching bite mark, every breath is full of him. A breathless laugh bubbles up in her throat, and she pulls him down for another fierce kiss.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He devours her, pulling, sucking, licking, wanting more. He continues to rock, a little more violently now, moving faster inside her.

A low groan starts in his chest, working it's way out and growing louder and longer as it does so until it's become a long howl, threading through the music that's still playing.

[hell_in_highheels]

She clings to him, breathing in the heady rush of his scent, the sweet fire pooling in her belly spreading through her body. Her whole body vibrates with that rising growl, drawing her awareness down to a fine thin ribbon of sensation that sings in resonance with him. She contracts around him, losing herself in the power and the beauty of his strength.

There comes a moment when she can no longer hold on, and her climax explodes through her body like a bolt of lightning. Her head tips back and she joins him in the song.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

That? Is awesome. He stretches the howl out as long as he can, a higher pitch creeping in when he comes before the song shrinks down and fades away to nothing. He gives one of her several nips a gentle kiss.

They need to do that more often.

[hell_in_highheels]

The howl catches in her throat before flickering and fading as he unravels, holding tight to him. Her eyes close and she drinks in the last few moments.

Her chin tips back as he lowers his mouth and her hands weave through his short hair. She can feel the tingle of her skin healing beneath his mouth, and the two together send a wave of goosebumps over her skin.

She presses her cheek to his head, nuzzling against him as she tries to catch her breath. "I love you so much," she breathes, the words almost inaudible.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Mmph," he says against her skin. "Love you, too," he murmurs a moment later, having lifted his head a bit. He pants against her throat for a bit before lifting himself so he can sprawl on the couch next to her, feet still tangled in his trousers.

"Sex wins," he says authoritatively.

[hell_in_highheels]

Laughing quietly, she rolls with him, wanting to be tangled up with him. She rests her head against his shoulder, kissing his chest, careful to avoid his scars.

"I demand a rematch," she says, grinning against his skin.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He shifts a bit, getting comfortable and making sure she isn't poking him anywhere.

Not that he's ticklish, but bones are bony.

"Iiii don't know about that. I'm not certain poem's get any better than what you've already sampled."

He has no clue, really.

[hell_in_highheels]

It takes a bit of arranging but eventually, she teases his trousers off his ankles, and stretches out beside him. She leans up on one elbow, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Well, it's not really about the poetry, but if you insist."

She clears her throat a bit, resting her hands and then her chin on his chest, waggling her eyebrows. "There once was a girl from Nantucket..."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He snorts.

"Save it for the toilet," he grins, wrapping one arm around her waist.

Then he adjusts a pillow behind his head a bit so he doesn't have to keep craning his neck to see her.

[hell_in_highheels]

She just looks at him for a long moment, blinking languidly, memorising the smile lines around his eyes, the contented scent of him.

never let this end, never going to let you go

"Fine, then, have it your way."

She leans up a bit, brushing her lips over his, gently tasting his mouth.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He nuzzles her a bit, tasting in return. There are still hints of paradoxes, wine, and blood on her breath.

Absolutely no complaints here.