DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Anyone want plan a coup with me?
DEDICATION: Bourbon, Rin22 and all those who have feedbacked recent posts. Special shout to Moonbebe who made a comment that actually inspired this and another short little reflective piece I'm working on.
A/N: Only one name is mentioned for a reason. Hopefully that way readers of any persuasion of 'ship can enjoy.
He knocks on the door and waits patiently.
She opens it, her eyes wary, her body-language tense, her muscles and sinews fairly vibrating with adrenalin.
They both have apologies in their eyes, but their mouths are quickly sealed in a kiss. Words are for later. Feelings are for later. This is about sensations and touches and the beginning of healing. It's only a band-aid – but oh, what a band-aid it is!
He mumbles softly, "You sure?"
She nods fiercely, reaches up to pull his mouth back to hers. She's never felt like this, her heart churning, her soul aching for a man. She's never let the arousal of her body cross the barriers into her emotions. She'd never known she could feel so bereft simply because her bed was empty. But he was gone and she did.
Now he's back, kissing her, hands skimming over her back, heat rippling into her through the soft t-shirt fabric. He's backing her up slowly, easily, tugging now at her clothing, breaking away from her mouth to pull the shirt over her head.
She shivers lightly as the cooler air hits her skin. Her nipples tighten and she groans lowly. She grows impatient with their slow progress to her bed and she pulls at his shirt collar, urging him forward, sighing as they tumble together onto the mattress.
He gazes down at her for a moment, relishing the smoky desire in her eyes, admiring the soft flush of her bare skin. His fingertips tremble in anticipation, knowing how silky her skin will feel under the gentle graze of his hands. He trails his forefinger down, between her breasts, glad beyond measure that she'd been bare beneath the shirt. He doubts he'd have the patience at the moment to unfasten even the simplest of bra clasps. Instead he can dip his mouth to the taut peak of one nipple and take it between his lips, listening for the sound of her gasp. He is rewarded with just such a sound and he begins to suckle more energetically, feeling her buck next to him.
She moans from deep in the back of her throat at the bolts of pleasure and need he is shooting through her. His mouth is hot on her breast, one hands massages the other as he cradles her head with his free hand. As much as her body is singing in pleasure now, it is the tenderness she has missed most of all.
He slips his hand into the waist band of her shorts in preface to tugging them off of her. He strokes his way back up her thigh, his mouth abandoning her breast. Her cry of disappointment is quickly choked off as he kisses his way down her belly and to the apex of her core. She murmurs his name. He hears in it the supplication, the passion and the emotion in her voice. He thrills with the knowledge that this is not simply physical for her as it has never been for him.
He slips a finger into her, stretching her gently, watching her hips buck as pleasure rolls through her. He strokes deftly, finding the sweet spot that has her thrashing, her muscles rippling and clenching. He pushes her ever close to the edge, driving her over with the attention of his lips and tongue to the small bundle of nerves at the top of her opening. He pets her softly as the climax takes her, prolonging it for her as long as he can, listening first to her incoherent cries and then to the ragged breathing as she slowly calms.
He shucks outs of his own clothing, needing to be inside her. She reaches for him, guides him into her. They both sigh as their bodies join. His hands find hers, their fingers twine as they move together, her hips meeting his thrusts. She cranes her head, finds his lips and captures them with hers.
He can't last long. He has needed her too much, is too amazed to be here with her. Her quiet murmur of "It's all right" reassures him as much as the way she locks her ankles around his back, drawing him deeply into her body. His pace becomes erratic as he nears completion. The feeling of her clenching her internal muscles around him is all he needs. With a strangled grunt, he stills within her, his entire body pulsing with release.
He rests on her for just a moment, reveling in the closeness but not wanting to crush her. He brushes a lock of damp hair from her cheek. "Jordan." He smiles at her.
She kisses him in reply.
He moves off of her and gathers her into his arms. She rests her head on his chest, content for the first time in … she doesn't know. She only knows that she has searched a lifetime for this, that she nearly let it slip through her grasp. She knows they have a lot to talk about, so much to make up for, but she doesn't care. All of that is for later. Right now all she needs is the firm, constant sound of his heart beating in his chest as his arms cradle her.
Everything will come out all right. For the first time in her life, she believes that.