Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Author: sinecure
Series: Glimpses
Rating: Adult
A/N: Thanks to JennyLD--my co-contributor to the Glimpses series--for beta-ing and encouragement.

Rose moaned forcefully. Small gasps left her lips, breathless, desperate and shuddering.

Firelight danced across the ceiling, spilling onto the walls and into the corners, lighting the room up in an eerie golden hue. Her eyes closed against the warm scene painting itself on the room as the Doctor's lips tugged at her, making her hips jerk. His tongue moved inside her the way she'd seen his fingers do inside a jar of jam.

She raised her legs higher, planting her feet flat on the bed, fighting to keep her thighs from closing on his head. Her hands threaded through his hair, tightening when he scraped her clit with his teeth and then suckled it softly, gently.

A log popped and snapped in the fireplace and her eyes slid open to find him watching her.

One long finger slid inside her, quickly followed by another.

She arched off the bed, and the gown, barely held in place by the tiny buttons at her back, pooled on either side of her, exposing the swell of her breasts to his greedy gaze.

They stared at one another as he sucked and nipped and teased her innermost flesh, her muscles clenching and tightening at the dark look in his eyes. All the brown was gone, pushed aside by the arousal he'd only let her see a hint of up until now.

The cool skin of his cheeks--warming by the second--brushed against her inner thighs, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

Burning cinders sizzled and crackled, filling the room with the smell of burning wood. It drifted lazily toward them from the hearth, circling toward the smoke-stained ceiling.

He kissed her thigh lightly, and again, and then without warning, he slid his tongue back inside her and then curled the tip around her clit, eliciting another moan from her, one that forced an answering groan from the Doctor. The vibration of his voice against her sensitive flesh sent her reeling over the edge. Clutching his hair in one hand and the sheets in her other, she bucked her hips up, forcing his tongue to slide deeper.

Pleasure washed over her, drowning her in sensation after sensation as her muscles tightened and contracted, grasping ineffectually at his tongue.