hell_in_highheels: (oh you)
[personal profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-07 06:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] captainryan.livejournal.com
His fingers slip underneath her shirt, searching higher, holding her in place. He continues to nip at her throat, worrying the edge of her collar bone.
determined, desire, love, need
You're always tasty, he answers with a playful growl.

Date: 2009-07-08 12:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] captainryan.livejournal.com
There was no need, nor desire, to bite that deeply this time.

He still drew blood, though, as he bit at the base of her throat. Red slowly swelled out of the holes he made, like tiny glossy flower buds, and he just as slowly licked them away again.

Mine.

Date: 2009-07-08 02:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] captainryan.livejournal.com
Heaven. He's died and gone to heaven. It's only taken him a few years to realize.

He growls back, nipping her again, leaving fresh marks as his hands find her bra and start pulling at it. He has no intention of breaking it but, well. Accidents do happen.

Date: 2009-07-08 03:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] captainryan.livejournal.com
Ditto that. Richard pushes up against her, hardness pressing through his trousers. His hands massage her breasts, relishing in their feel. Her lips are at his chin so he kisses her cheeks, pressing his teeth against her nose for a moment.

Some small voice in the back of his head mentions, as his shirt begins tearing, that they should probably disrobe before foreplay in the future.

Date: 2009-07-08 04:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] captainryan.livejournal.com
He lets out a brief surprised sound as his blood starts flowing. He tenses reflexively, jerking to bring his own teeth back to the side of her neck. It's not a warning, just a reminder.

Still, his scent is eager and aroused as he gasps against the wet spot he's left on her throat, panting with exertion. His hands move down her sides, roughly caressing until he reaches her trousers.

Sometimes he hates buttons.

Date: 2009-07-08 06:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-09 05:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-09 06:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-10 04:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-10 06:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-14 02:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-14 03:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

Date: 2009-07-14 03:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 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.

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River Song

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