Rated M for a reason: Erotic content.
This could be considered a sequel or companion to Secrets, but it works just as well on its own. These two have apparently become one of my favorite pairings.
The necessary disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from FFVII or its characters.
She admired the curve of his throat as he arched his head back, the way it convulsively rippled when he swallowed. His mouth was open slightly, his breath hitching as he gasped.
Did men notice these things about women? In the heat of lust, did they bother to pay attention to the finer details?
He rolled his head to one side, and she saw that his eyes were closed, his long lashes gracing his high cheekbones delicately. His head relaxed and he turned, hiding his face in one arm. His arms were extended above his head, muscles bunching and flexing as he held tight to the headboard, his fingers occasionally releasing and tightening for a better grip.
Tifa stilled above him to watch, her body settling down on him so that he filled her entirely. She felt the pulse of his heartbeat within her, the only movement between them. She focused on that sensation, gasping at the intensity of it, until it bordered on being too much.
She traced her fingers along his exposed throat; how small her hand appeared against the chorded muscles there, against the ridge of his collar bone, which stood out prominently, beads of moisture gathering in the hollows it created. Running her fingertips down to his chest and then his stomach, barely brushing against his heated skin, increased that pulse dramatically, bringing a smile to her lips. He was so sensitive. Who would have guessed from his attitude or the way he fought how every bit of contact, the slightest brush of skin, affected him. Adding nails as she repeated the action of her hands brought a deep groan from him. She stilled again and waited, simply holding him deep within her body, relishing the heat and hardness of him.
He came slowly to reality, licking his lips once, twice before those long lashes fluttered open. He turned to her slowly, bright blue eyes taking a moment to focus as he gazed up at her through crimson strands of silken hair that fell haphazardly across his face. His lips turned up ever so slightly, giving away his amusement.
"Have you worn yourself out, Ms. Lockhart?"
She pushed a strand of hair back over her shrugging shoulder, considering.
"I was simply enjoying the view."
The flex of muscles in his arms was the first sign of what he intended. Tifa didn't have a chance to respond as his entire body tightened, arched, and he surged up into her. Tifa gripped his lean waist, letting the rise and fall of his body provide all the motion.
Even from his prone position, he had completely turned the tables on her, and yes, he did notice the finer details. How could he not notice her fingers clutching at him, how her thumbs automatically found that dip she loved so much where his hips met his lower belly, or her hair falling forward to shadow her face as she dropped her chin, the longest strands managing to tease against his skin? How could he not notice the way her body accepted him, drew him in, gripped him in a heat that threatened to burn him, and then squeezed harder as his body lowered, fighting not to release him. The churning sensation he was causing within her body made him hum low in his throat and the intensity of entering her like this only to have the weight of her body ride him back down forced meaningless sounds from her lips at every impact. He adjusted his grip on the headboard to give him better leverage to give her what she needed. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, biting down, her eyes shut tight, as something similar to agony crossed her face, and he knew that no matter his strength or how her body enjoyed this, it would not be enough.
As his body fell one last time, he released the headboard to gather her to him and, gracefully, powerfully, rolled her beneath him. He wrapped a hand just below one knee, bringing it up and using it to position her, adjust her, until her cries intensified, her arms clutching at him as her body did. He held her in an iron grip, one hand holding her hips down, keeping her still so that his body remained in control, the other arm wrapping around her, molding her to him and keeping her body a prisoner to his strength as he increased the forcefulness of his thrusts, gritting his teeth against the smooth, grasping heat that enveloped him.
Tifa was trapped. The pressure building within her body felt as if it was going to spiral out in a blinding display of heat and energy, but the pressure kept mounting behind the wall of the body holding her, so close, so tight, so still. She whimpered against his control, and though he would not relinquish it, he turned his head into the long line of her neck, licking a slow line along her pulse to the soft hollow below her ear, giving her just that tiny bit to hurtle her over the edge.
She bit into his shoulder, marking him, a small price he would have to pay for this forbidden pleasure, and he tightened his grip even further, containing her pleasure against him as he swelled even further within her just before his own release.
They rested like that, recovering, their breathing slowing from harsh gasps to softer whispers against their skin. He didn't want to let her go, didn't want to let her leave, and he held her as if he could draw her into him, absorb her into his being. She turned her face into his, his profile so close, memorizing every line and contour for the indefinite time she would be denied his presence. She nuzzled past the long earring to kiss along his neck and jaw, and he turned so his lips met hers.
"It's moments like this that I think you might be the gift of the Goddess, Tifa."
Her smile lit up her eyes. "How ironic, Genesis. I was thinking the exact same thing about you."