What Lies Beneath
Author's Notes: Once again, PeachCheetah is to blame! That woman and her prompts! Aaah. She started going on about a, well, you'll see… and silly me went "Oh, I could whip up a little something for you." And then it's 2am and my eyes are burning, and this is over 6500 words… oy.
Set anytime your little heart desire's, so long as it's a time when Lucy and Wyatt are already together :p
Something was going on with Lucy. Wyatt could tell. He just couldn't tell what. To anyone else at the restaurant she probably looked fine. Well, more than fine, she was freaking gorgeous and he knew others had noticed. They always did. Not that she ever realized it. She just didn't think of herself as someone who turned heads. Not even in the slinky black dress she was wearing, eyes smoky, her dark hair swept up in some fancy way he couldn't understand that exposed the long column of perfect, porcelain skin that was her neck. She was in full vamp mode. Perhaps her most dangerous mode. Anyone with a pulse could tell she was a knockout. His knockout.
His knockout who was acting strangely. There were tiny, barely there tells. Only someone who knew her very well would have caught them. He'd been cataloguing them all night. He could admit to himself he hadn't noticed right away. They'd set the night up so that even though they lived together he'd left the house for a few hours and came to the door at 7 o'clock to "pick her up". He'd actually found himself a little nervous, standing right outside his own front door, fresh flowers in hand. He'd never really done the fancy date thing. He and Jess hadn't been able to afford it. He hadn't even taken her to prom. When Lucy opened the door looking like a modern goddess, his brain had gone fuzzy for a while. He couldn't even remember the cab ride. He'd only started to notice the weirdness once they'd sat down at the restaurant. She'd sat down… carefully. Not that she normally just slumped down into a chair, but the move had been made a bit too precisely. He'd frowned slightly at her, but she'd ignored him like nothing had happened.
Even while eating their delicious meal her physical movements had just seemed off. Everything was a little bit more deliberate, a bit slower. She was holding herself differently, her posture impeccable, shoulders back and chest enticingly accentuated by her dress. There was surely some lingerie devilry going on there, because while he always very much appreciated her breasts, they were especially amazing that night. Everything about her was mesmerizing. But then she laughed and it sounded wrong. Instead of the full bodied, near-cackle of joy she so often let loose these days, her laugh had been light, like she was holding back, perhaps even a little breathy. Despite the restrained sounds, she'd developed a rosy glow to her skin throughout the evening. A faint blush from her cheeks down to the demure yet so sexy neckline of her dress. The way she every so often leaned forward, surely on purpose to drive him mad, guaranteed he noticed the blush. They hadn't had that much wine, and the restaurant was not overly warm, so Wyatt wasn't sure what the reason for it was. He'd like to say his own charming wit was causing it, but he didn't think so. Something was up. For the first while he'd found it fascinating, alluring, even a bit amusing. But as the night had worn on his curiosity had nearly eaten away his patience, and he was getting worried. He cursed himself for it, though still wondering if he was just being paranoid. It had been an odd night, alternating between being enraptured by her beauty, and concerned for her well-being. She'd have told him if something was wrong, wouldn't she? As they waited for the bill to arrive, he dared ask the question.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Lucy raised a delicate brow at him. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean, you, uh…"
She gave him a wry grin. "I what?"
He shook his head, internally cursing himself again. "Never mind." He was being silly and didn't want to ruin their date night by pushing at something that maybe wasn't even there.
She gave him a funny look. Wyatt was an expert at knowing and interpreting her looks but he had no clue what this one meant. He was Delta Force, damnit. He'd built his career upon trusting his instincts, and right now, they were shouting that something was up. He just couldn't tell what. Lucy was too good. His musings were interrupted by the bill arriving. His suspicions reared up again a few minutes later when he pulled her chair out for her and helped her stand. Once more the word that came to his mind was deliberate. The way she moved her legs before rising, the line of her body as she stood… had she hurt her back? Was the dress too tight? His lecherous mind sure didn't think so but maybe she was just uncomfortable.
His hand gravitated to the small of her back to walk her out, perhaps a little low for public, but she allowed it and looked up at him. For a moment he forgot how to breathe. Her eyes were so dark, looking up at him from under long, hooded lashes. There was a crinkle at the edges of the smoky eyes, a light that he once again couldn't interpret. Her full, red lips quirked up in a sexy, sly grin and he gulped, suddenly knowing something was about to happen. Something he was in no way prepared for. Her mouth parted and her teeth peeked out, gathering her bottom lip in a move that always floored him. She made a sound in the back of her throat, almost like a purr. She was satisfied with his reaction. She swayed toward him, the already minimal space between them diminishing even further. His eyes drifted shut, lips ready to receive hers, but the next thing he knew her hand was grabbing his and she was pulling at him. He stumbled briefly, just barely catching himself as she strode languidly, but with purpose towards the exit of the restaurant. He had no choice but to numbly follow, her hand slight within his, but gripping firmly. Wyatt was sure he looked like a dope, trailing after her like a puppy with his tongue wagging, but he couldn't help it.
He wasn't even surprised when she managed to hail a cab mere seconds after exiting into the night air. Who wouldn't stop for her? As soon as the door shut, he crowded into her, a hand on her silky thigh, the other on her neck as he leaned in, needing to taste her. She stopped him with a finger to his lips. He groaned in frustration, then nipped at it, trying to entice her.
"Nothing is happening in this cab, Wyatt Logan," she warned him in a low voice.
He groaned again.
"Patience," she said. "Good things come to those who wait, after all."
He narrowed his eyes at her, searching her face for clues as to what her plans were. Because she obviously had plans. This whole evening had been an orchestration, but he still had no clue where it was leading. What could her odd behaviour possibly mean? Where was all this going? She openly laughed at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
"You'll never guess," she teased.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Really?"
He tried to give her a look, a sexy, charming look, both confident and persuasive.
She smirked at him, leaning over and pushing her body up against his side, her lips against his ear. "You'll never get it out of me."
His hand slid further up her thigh. The already short dress had ridden right up when she sat down. "There are other things I could get out of you."
She gently bit at his earlobe and his whole body shook, hand gripping her thigh hard.
"Oh, you'll be getting those out of me," she agreed. "Just not till we're home."
"You sure?" His hand slid higher.
She slid a hand of her own between his legs and boldly cupped him in retaliation. "I'm sure."
He growled and used the hand still on her neck to angle her head so he could kiss her because damnit he needed to. She whimpered at his potent touch, her hand moving from between his legs to brace herself on his thigh, giving back as good as he gave. Her free hand mirrored his, grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him even closer, the kiss even deeper. He slid his hand from her thigh around to her ass, squeezing it roughly before maneuvering her into his lap. She let him, straddling him and moving both her arms around his shoulders. He squeezed her ass again, the scent and feel of her flooding his senses. He finally let go of her neck, dropping it to fully cup her backside, kneading the flesh before moving up to her hips. He started to run his hands up her back when suddenly she made a noise against him, pulling away from their kiss and reaching behind herself to grab at his hands.
"Nuh-uh," she shook her head.
"What? Why not?"
"Because," she smirked.
He frowned at her, brain clouded by lust. His confusion heightened as she cautiously climbed off him and sat as far across the seats as she could.
"When we're home," she repeated.
He made a noise of frustrated disappointment, slumping in the seat and closing his eyes, trying to calm his longing by force of will alone. His thoughts were distracted, however, by the sound of heavy breathing. He opened his eyes and found Lucy with her own eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar. She breathed in deeply through her nose, held it, then slowly let it out, her chest rising and falling in halted breaths. He was mesmerized by her chest for a few moments before he realized, even in the dark cab interior, that her skin was completely flushed. Their make out session had been hot, yes, damn hot, and he was certainly not unaffected but wow, she looked liked she'd just been on a run.
He opened his mouth to inquire but just then the cab slowed to a halt.
"Out," the driver ordered gruffly. He'd clearly not enjoyed their make out session. Wyatt just grinned. He'd thought his days of making out with girls in cars were long over, but it turned out they were far from so. And these were a lot better than the ones he'd had in high school. And they were with Lucy Preston. Like that one time when she'd somehow rented the Jaguar XK120 for his birthday weekend… Damn. He grabbed Lucy by the hand and swiftly got out of the car.
"Woah, slow down," she scolded, tugging back on his hand and gingerly exiting.
"Slow down? We're finally home!"
"What did I say before? Patience, young padawan."
He snorted. "Don't think you've said padawan before."
"Yeah, well, you'd be a cute padawan. Just don't tell Rufus or Jiya I said that."
"If I promise that can we move a bit faster?"
"What's the rush?"
They were at the elevator now, and he was pushing repeatedly at the button.
"Isn't it obvious?"
The elevator finally pinged open and he guided her into it, hands on her hips. The second the doors closed he brought her hand to the seam of his pants. He leaned in and murmured his reply. "I want you."
She shivered as his hot breath caressed her neck. She jutted her chin out in permission and he kissed her, stepping forward to push her back against the wall. Unlike in the cab, their bodies could fully press against one another and he frowned. She felt different somehow. Not as soft, not as lithe as usual. His hands started to drift, seeking her waist but she batted them away, a sharp "No!" hitting his lips. He pulled back, ready to finally call her out on her bizarre behaviour when the elevator pinged open and she hurried past him and into the hallway, her posture rigid like it had been all night.
He gritted his teeth. "Lucy!"
She was waiting by their door, silent, but the sultry look was back on her face, pure "Come hither", and the way she was leaning against the wall… wow. He fought to control himself, both his lust and frustration, as he unlocked the door. She'd said "When we're home" and they were home. He'd lasted this long, he just needed to get them inside and maybe she'd finally tell him what the hell was going on. He locked the door as she, much to his delight, made no move to remove her heels. He toed off his own dress shoes.
"Are you going to finally tell me what's going on?"
Her eyebrows rose in concert with a feigned look of innocence. "Going on?"
He narrowed his eyes at her and walked slowly forward. She stepped back.
"You've been acting funny all night."
Another step. He realized she was angling herself to walk backwards towards their bedroom. He smirked.
"Yeah. I mean, you're next-level insanely hot tonight, but you've been acting funny. Your posture is different. You sit and stand carefully. You move slower. You've withheld your laugh. You've given me weird looks. You won't let me touch your waist or back. And in the elevator just now your body felt different."
They were at the doorway of their bedroom now.
"Wow," she teased with a low voice as she reached up and cupped his cheek, lightly scratching down his stubble. "Look at you, super soldier, with all your observations."
"I notice everything about you," he replied just as low, grasping her hips once more and moving them across the threshold. The curtains on the window were pushed back, moonlight filtering in and offering an ethereal quality to the scene.
She smirked up at him. "So have you figured it out?"
"You're a witch, hell bent on both turning me on beyond belief, and driving me insane at the same time?"
She laughed, the delicate, tinkering thing it had been all night. "Something like that, I guess."
He backed her up until the back of her knees hit the mattress. "Will the magician finally reveal her secrets?"
She bit her lip again. "You sure you're ready?"
"Babydoll, I am beyond ready."
Her mouth quirked as she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. He obliged, giving her space as she reached behind her back to the exposed zipper of her dress. The room suddenly felt charged, a livewire, a hum in the air broken only by the rasp of each tooth in the zipper parting at her pull. Wyatt found himself holding his breath, hands fisting in anticipation as Lucy looked at him in a way that was purely primal. He was under her spell and she knew it. She drew the zipper down agonizingly slowly, finally stopping at the small of her back. The look on her face was sensuality personified. Her right hand then rose to her left shoulder, very gently slipping under the wide strap and pushing it off her shoulder. She did the same with the opposite. The straps fell down her arms, the dress held up only by her elbows which now squeezed in at her sides. The pressure pushed her breasts together and up, the most magnificent they'd been yet. She held herself there for several moments as he gaped. Then she let her arms relax and the dress fell to the floor. She kicked it aside and he finally had his answer. The reason for all the weird behaviour. For her knowing looks. For the studied movements and trouble breathing. For the extra level of bodily perfection.
She was wearing a goddamn corset.
How many times had he seen her wear corsets? He couldn't even remember. They'd always been layered with all manner of other period dress, sometimes pristine, sometimes covered in dirt, but every time, every single time, he'd wanted to tear it off her. Even before he'd admitted to himself he had a growing affection for her. Long before he admitted that he loved her. Almost before he considered her even just his friend. She was a beautiful woman, after all, and whatever his situation when they met, he was a red-blooded male. Lucy Preston, in a corset, was an almost inhumanely gorgeous sight to behold. It was just a fact.
And now she was wearing one. Had been wearing one all night, hidden away. A sleek, modern, black one. Right in front of him. For him.
Holy fucking shit.
Wyatt was robbed of breath, thought, movement. Everything but sight, because the sight of her in a corset, tiny thong, and wicked heels, all black, with her fair skin and dark hair, bathed in moonlight… if he could only see one thing for the rest of his life that would be it. He watched, enthralled, as she brought a hand to her cheek, running the back of her fingers down to her neck, caressing her own skin, down to the plump swell of a breast that was nearly popping out. She toyed with the edge of the corset, looking down at it thoughtfully before bringing her eyes up to meet his, somehow smoky and doe-eyed. They connected and he felt a physical current run through him.
"You like?" she teased.
He couldn't even form words, tried to nod dazedly instead but wasn't sure if he even succeeded at that.
She was looking at him like a cat looking at prey. Hungry. When she quirked a finger at him, beckoning him forward, his feet moved on their own, totally out of his control. She could have told him to go jump out the window and he would have.
Anything. Anything for her.
He stopped right in front of her, remembering to breathe as whatever perfume she'd worn that night bewitched him further.
"You can touch now."
He'd been so eager only minutes ago, ready to have her even in the back of a cab. Now he floundered, overwhelmed, completely unsure of what to do. So he did what always seemed to work. His favourite go-to.
He kissed her.
His arms stayed at his sides, but he swayed forward and claimed her red lips with his. She gathered his face between her hands, holding him steady and humming in approval. His hands responded to the sound, rising of their own volition to frame her waist. The feel of satin instead of warm skin shocked the pads of his fingers, more electricity sparking through his body. He held her tight, hands running up and down her sides, her already small waist made even tinier by the garment. He spread his fingers wide and encircled her waist. He looked at her wonderingly and found her staring at him, eyes black. He kissed her hotly, quickly, before backing off and continuing his exploration. His hands ran all over the corset, mapping it, learning its feel. He realized the front was secured by a multitude of tiny clasps while it was tightened and tied by laces along the back. He was fascinated by the ridges in it, somehow remembering the word for them through his haze of lust. Boning. It was incredible how they helped her shape, her posture. He couldn't imagine corsets were at all comfortable to wear, even out to dinner, never mind running around amid battle in 1754, but his inner caveman was, in that moment, very, very happy for them.
His hands eventually, naturally ended up rising to the top of her chest, covering her breasts, thumbs swiping up to stroke the swells above. Her breathing was shallow, not just from the lingerie but from his rapt attentions. She further straightened her shoulders, pushing herself forward into his hands and he chuckled, deep and dark. He was under her spell, yes, but she was just as affected as he was.
Fuck, this might have been the best idea she'd ever had. Lucy had known it the second she'd first laid eyes on the corset. It had been an accident. She'd been in a different area of town than she usually went, heading to a specialty market for an ingredient Wyatt apparently had to have for a dinner he was making. He hadn't been able to pick it up himself because of a string of urgent, last-minute meetings. She'd been walking from the car to the market when she'd passed by a high-end lingerie shop and seen it through the window. She knew she had to have it.
Wearing it all evening had been difficult but worth it. So worth it. The look on his face… she'd never felt such feminine pride in her life. She'd been telling the truth in Hollywood after he'd called her beautiful and she'd told him she didn't really think of herself that way. She never had. But now, God did Wyatt Logan make her feel like she was. The way he looked at her made her feel like she could do anything. Every day with him made her more confident in herself, bolstered her to become something more. Not because she wasn't enough, but because she could be more, and he wanted her to achieve everything he knew she could. She felt stronger, smarter, and ever increasingly sexier. She took more and more risks, Wyatt lapping up every one, and when she'd bought the corset she knew he would lose his mind.
And he had. But not in the way she'd expected him to.
She'd been driving him crazy all night, she knew, it was the plan, after all. But she'd figured when she finally revealed the corset he would lose his mind and go full Harlequin Romance on her. Tear it right off her and throw her on the bed and ravish her wildly. Instead the opposite seemed to have happened. The instant he'd seen her in it, he'd just… stopped. Slowed down to a pace that was excruciating in its thoroughness, it's veneration. He'd catalogued every inch of the corset and was finally touching skin, but what would he do next?
She didn't have to ask. He abandoned her chest and she whined, but he was unmoved by the sound. His hands resumed their grip on her waist and he slowly spun her around, so her back was to him. His lips dipped down to her neck and she let her head fall back against his shoulder. He continued to plant soft kisses along her neck and shoulders as his hands went to work on the laces of the corset. He might have fumbled with them, the laces plentiful and tightly intertwined, but she didn't even notice. Jiya had helped her do it up, she was sure Wyatt would figure it out. She didn't care how long it took, so long as his mouth was on her skin and his musky cologne was in the air. She knew he'd succeeded when he suddenly bit into her skin, making her jump and gasp. Her chest expanded and her lungs pulled in a deep breath. The ties had been loosened.
Lucy waited for him to continue, to open it further and pull it off her, or perhaps push it down her body to the floor. But he didn't. He left it on and abandoned it completely, his hands relocating to her hips.
"Wyatt?" she inquired in a needy voice.
"I've got you," he replied, deep and sure.
She believed him. A sense of security washed over her, her trust in him absolute. He may have been under her spell, but he wove some powerful magic of his own as well. She stood pliant in his arms as his hand moved between her legs, finding the scrap of barrier between his questing fingers and their destination. In a momentary loss of control, he ripped it from her body, displaying the raw need, the raw power she'd been hoping for. She keened and he bit into her neck again as he tossed the material aside. A thick, muscled thigh nudged between her legs, encouraging one of her slim limbs to rest against it, a hand steadying her hip while the other finally slid between her folds.
They both moaned at the touch. She'd been ready for him all night, pulsing with need from the moment she'd opened the door to find him waiting, flowers in hand, all dressed up, and nervous as a teenager. His fingers now slid easily through her, her body weeping for him. He pressed his cheek against her hair and cursed at the discovery.
"For you," she purred.
He growled and dipped a finger inside her. She let out a guttural breath, her head falling to the side against his shoulder as he started to explore within her. He leisurely added a second finger and she started to rock against him. His free arm wrapped around her waist, holding her securely to him, his arousal obvious but ignored for the sake of her, and her pleasure. His thumb came into play as his mouth took advantage of her bared neck, sucking softly on her pulse point while he stroked gently against her clit. She could occasionally feel the cuff of his shirt brush against her skin, the soldier still fully clothed behind her. It somehow made her all the hotter for him, her bare shoulders bunching against his dress shirt, her bare ass pressing against the seam of his pants. It didn't take long for her to fall apart, a long, breathy moan all she could manage as hot heat blossomed from between her legs to consume her whole body. Her limbs melted and her body went nearly limp, but he held her upright, safe in his arms.
Lucy then hazily realized he was laying her out on the bed. She sighed and settled against the pillows, arms above her head, spreading her legs wide for him. But he didn't slip off his pants, didn't claim her yet. He straddled her, yes, but reached to curl his fingers under the top of the corset. With another move belying his restrained state, he yanked it down. Her breasts were finally revealed, nipples rock hard and straining, blessedly free of their confinement. She sucked in several deep breaths, chest rising and falling as he watched her with hungry eyes. She waited, giving him permission to do what he would with her, his reward for suffering her teasing all night. With a nod of his head he dipped down, boldly sucking a taut nipple into his hot mouth. She moaned in approval, arching her back to get closer to him. Wyatt's pace was still slow, but full of intent, his jaw working attentively as he brought her higher and higher again. When he moved to the opposite breast a hand rose to the first, kneading and plucking in concert with his mouth until she was writhing, hips thrusting up against air in desperate need of friction. She was on the verge of begging when he finally pulled away from her with a wet pop. She used the reprieve to catch her breath but found herself floundering again when he shimmied down the bed so that his head was level with the apex of her thighs.
"Wyatt," she pleaded, not knowing if she wanted him to keep going or stop.
He gave her no choice, slipping two fingers inside her once again with the addition of his tongue against her clit. She moaned loudly, hands flying to grasp his hair and hips rising off the mattress. He wound his arm under her leg and over her hip, holding her down. The loosened corset now rested barely above her hipbones, so his hand was spread half on her skin and half on it. The hard edges dug into her and the new sensations it evoked set her nerves alight. Her mind didn't know how to handle them and Wyatt, the man devouring her with single minded purpose. She had to fight the urge to wrap her legs tightly around him and dig her still heeled feet into his back to bring him even closer. Before she knew it, she was cresting again, higher than before, a broken, high pitched cry tearing from her throat. He expertly drew every ounce of pleasure from her that he could, waves cresting after waves until no more could be drawn forth. He withdrew his fingers then, but his mouth remained, gently lapping at her, soothing, until her body settled back against the sheets and she went still.
Wyatt then made his way back up her body, placing soft kisses against random patches of skin, burrowing into her neck for a few moments before finally landing a final kiss to her cheek.
"Doing okay?" he murmured.
She let loose a slightly hysterical laugh. "Uh-huh."
"Good for one more?"
Lucy somehow always doubted she could possibly ever have another orgasm on nights like these. He always proved her wrong. She gave him a look, one brow raised over glassy, blissed out eyes. Wyatt smiled at her, a dangerous combination of sexy and smug rolled into one, lovestruck look.
Then he gripped her waist and flipped her onto her stomach.
Lucy swore loudly, knowing Wyatt was going to absolutely wreck her now. He chuckled throatily above her as she heard the rustling sounds of clothes being removed. Then his hands were on her shoulders, massaging lightly as she gathered a pillow to her chest and found a comfortable position. When he sensed she was ready he ran his hands down her back, along the corset that rested between her shoulder blades and the small of her back. Cupping her ass, he squeezed the tight cheeks. He always paid homage to them, she'd noticed early on. Something about her always having been covered up by bulky period monstrosities. Apparently not covered up enough to stop several years of fantasizing. When he was done with his appreciations, he pulled at her hips until she rose up to her knees, her backside pert and presented to him while her chest lay flat against the bed. He knelt behind her, one hand on her hip as the other took himself in hand, positioning himself at her entrance. She expected him to nudge just his tip inside, then grip her hip with the second hand as he slowly slid in. But he didn't. Instead, Wyatt suddenly let himself go, pounding into her with one hard shove as his hand flew to the laces of her corset, grabbing a handful and pulling hard. Lucy's body bent backward, her hips grinding into his with the force of his thrust while her torso curved back off the bed, the corset suddenly tight. She tried to cry out but her breath was cut short by the restrictive garment, her body filled to the brim with him but empty of air. She was light-headed for a moment, delirious with sensation and fuck it might have been the hottest fucking thing he'd ever done to her.
He let go of the laces, the corset expanding, and she collapsed back to the bed, panting for air and cursing. He pulled out and leaned over, petting her hair and dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked, worry evident in his voice. "Was that too much?"
"Fuck, Wyatt," she huffed into the pillow. "That was… just… fucking… I mean, God!" She knew he'd never done anything like this with Jessica. She'd been the one to teach him about things like biting and restraints and withholding orgasms. Where the hell had he learned that? The only answer was that he'd been studying. Researching. Planning a few surprises of his own. Fuck if that didn't make it even hotter. What else did he have in store for her? Maybe not tonight, but next time? She definitely had to do some more shopping.
"Still don't know what that means," he said with a stroke to her thigh. He always made sure she was comfortable. Clear and honest communication was an agreement and requirement between them from start.
"Yes!" she ground out. "Holy shit yes, I'm good. That was not too much. It was exactly, perfectly, fucking unbelievably okay."
His fingers dug into her thigh so hard she'd probably bruise. She'd see his mark in the morning and love it. Give him a few marks of her own next time.
He pulled her hips up and teased her entrance once again and she took a deep breath in preparation. He slammed home, wrenching at the corset like the first time and no amount of prep could make her ready for the moment of complete loss of control. He had every power over her. She was completely at his mercy. And it was fucking amazing. She'd learned she didn't have to be in control all the time. She trusted him so completely, loved him so wholeheartedly that she could give herself to him in every way possible and not feel afraid, or lost, or shameful.
She felt free.
Lucy was into a lot of things, Wyatt had discovered over time, but they'd never experimented with this, the robbing of breath, the different level of control. Neither had any interest in traditional auto-erotic asphyxiation. With both their pasts, the thoughts of someone's hands closing around their throat was not a turn on at all. But this unexpected ability with the corset… it was somehow perfect for them. Wyatt was finally losing his edge and letting go, the frenzied lust of earlier that night flooding back as he, satisfied with her pleasure, finally let himself have his own. He didn't pull at the corset every time, but just as Lucy would move her hips against him in a familiar rhythm, he would tug again. Her body started to jerk when he did so, bucking against the mattress. Her tight heat clenching around him erratically was too much. He came with a roar of her name, a shaking hand snaking between her legs and roughly rubbing at her. She spasmed and fell after him, his name a scream muffled against the pillow, senses cross-firing as nerves overloaded. He collapsed on top of her and they gasped for breath, sweating and twitching with delicious aftershocks. Wyatt managed to reach down and remove her heels before gathering her into the cove of his body, both promptly falling asleep.
They woke in the middle of the night and made love again, face to face. Her fancy hair-do had started to fray so she quickly undid it, her dark hair fanning out like a halo on the pillow. She still wore the corset, but no laces were pulled this time. Instead Wyatt just enjoyed the unique feel of both satin and skin against his abdomen. His skin might be mottled in the morning, but it would be worth it. It wasn't anything compared to the marks Lucy had left on him in the past, her nails against his back. He relished them, proud and humbled to be claimed by her, always in awe of the fact that she loved him just as much as he loved her. With their entire hearts and souls. For the rest of time.
Wyatt woke first, the midmorning sun surprising him. He didn't usually sleep so late. Looking down at Lucy he realized it wasn't so surprising after all. What a night it had been. She was still completely out, sprawled on her stomach and limbs everywhere, a position she only took when she was truly exhausted. The covers had been kicked aside at some point in the night so her whole body was on display. In the bright sun the contrast between her pale skin and the black corset was perhaps even stronger than in the moonlight. Her halo of hair was now a wild tangle on the pillow. A few of the corset laces had loosened further, the thin tendrils draping down the curve of her perfect backside. The whole image she presented was one of the most erotic things Wyatt had ever seen. Quietly sneaking out of the bedroom, he found his jacket from the night before and pulled out his phone. Re-entering the room, he grabbed a few quick pictures of her. She'd posed for him before, a few rare and wondrous times, after a lengthy discussion on security and safety and where the photos would be stored. Just as he took a final shot, she made a little snuffling noise, her body tensing and an arm moving to rub at her face.
"Good morning," he rumbled, padding over to sit on the bed beside her.
She groaned and pouted, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she stretched out like a cat. He gulped, knowing she had no intentions behind the movements, but physically reacting, nonetheless. He couldn't help it. She was too damn sexy for her own good. She continued making noises of displeasure, her face scrunching up and body slumping further into the bed and he chuckled. How could she be both smoking hot, and freaking adorable at the same time? He reached out and brushed a stray curl back from her face. She batted at him.
"S'helping block the light," she mumbled.
He laughed again. "You hate hair on your face like that."
"Hate light more right now."
He stood up and closed the curtains then returned to the bed. "Better now?"
She made a noncommittal grunt and reached out to him, pulling on his arm until he lay down beside her. She wrapped herself around him, a leg between his, an arm across his chest, and burrowed her head into his neck and shoulder. She hummed.
"Now I'm better."
He wrapped his own arms around her and sighed contentedly. Better indeed. He expected her to fall asleep again but instead she aimlessly stroked his chest, every so often running her hand down his arm. His own thumb stroked her shoulder, occasionally dropping a kiss to her hair. From wild, corset-pulling sex to the softest of cuddling. Their relationship was a wild ride that neither would want any differently.
"So," she finally broke the silence. "Good surprise?"
He let out a loud snort before declaring "An almost-gave-me-a-heart-attack surprise."
"Well that wouldn't have been good."
He twined a finger through a lock of her hair. "But what a way to go."
"I'd like to keep you around if it's all the same to you," she grinned at him, extending her neck to give him a peck on the lips.
"Yeah. I have to see the look on your face when you see what else I bought."
Wyatt went stock still against her, eyes popping wide. Lucy laughed.
Phew! So that was muuuch longer than I expected it to be. Whoops. I doubt anyone will be complaining though! Hopefully. Please let me know your thoughts, good, bad, and ugly.
I'd love to know what time you imagined this in. In the few months after they've finally gotten together? First night they give the girls to someone else to have their first alone time in AGES? Several years into having kids? Let me know! Also…
Do YOU think they'd do stuff like this? What else did Lucy buy? 😉 And how will Wyatt get her back for this?