Title: Show 'n Tell 2 (2/2)
Author: sinecure
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: Adult (M)
Genre: AU, PWP, romance
Summary: The showin' 'n tellin' continues, folks!
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Thanks: to JennyLD for the beta.
Author's Note: This is chapter 2 of a gift I wrote for Jenny.


Snuggling further into the pillows, Rose was just beginning to drift off when the Doctor's hand slipped between her legs, touching her slick, still sensitive flesh. She forced her eyes open, focusing on him.

He was sitting beside her on the bed--when had he moved?--watching her, one hand resting firmly on her stomach while the other moved languidly between her legs. She must've drifted off for a few minutes.

"Trying to sleep here," she told him, body pooled on the bed from their earlier exploits. Yet, still, it strove for arousal as he brushed his fingers lightly against her again. "Why're you...?"

His mouth curved up, dark eyes heavy on her. "Because I can." Licking his lips, he leant down and pressed them firmly to hers. "Because I want to."

She drew in a breath when he slid a finger into her wet folds, forcing her muscles to lazily contract around it. She wasn't ready for another round, not yet. Her body needed time to recover. "Now?"

"I said any time, remember? Insisted on it." Gaze darting from her breasts to where his hand was, he slid his finger out, added another, then slid them both in, slowly, teasingly. "Been waiting for you, but you're just lying here like a lump." Leaning over, he bit one of her nipples, sucking on it, swirling his tongue around the hardening flesh. His teeth scraped it, nipping lightly, eyes on hers again, watching her respond.

"Um, it's called-- ah-- ah. Doctor, can you not do that while I'm--"

Instead of stopping, he began a lazy rhythm of thrusting and retreating.

"Yeah, all right. It's just... I'm tired. Aren't-- aren't you tired?" Blinking at him, she sat up, resting her weight on her arms, fighting the urge to rock her hips into his hand. He was still naked, still incredibly sexy with his rumpled hair and heavy-lidded gaze. Her eyes darted down to his lap, checking to see if he was ready, but no such luck. "Why are you waiting for me? Not like you're ready there or anything."

"Shower," he stated, then slowly pulled his fingers free of her body. He slipped them between his lips and began to suck on them again, making her mouth go dry and her traitorous body throb in response.

Snorting, she dropped back to the bed. Even her body was against her getting any sleep.

The Doctor leant down to whisper in her ear, which did things to her insides and was completely unfair of him. "Don't you wanna get wet and naked with me, Rose? Although," he muttered, hand drifting down her thighs, sliding between them and dipping into her folds again. "You're already soaked, aren't you?" Grabbing her hand, he settled it on his cock. "And we're both rather naked."

Burying her face in his chest, she tried to fight the tingles simmering in her stomach at the way he kept touching her, the way his voice flowed through her like liquid. The sensations he was awakening in her were strong, but her exhaustion was stronger. "After some sleep," she mumbled, stroking his cock a few times before dropping her hand. Closing her eyes with a satisfied yawn, she shifted on the warm sheets, trying to find the best position to cuddle up against him. "Too tired now."

There was silence for a precious five seconds before he pulled back, depriving her of his body, and her comfort. "But I'm all sticky," he told her, sliding his fingers across her lips. "Bodily fluids."

She curled her lip up, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "With romantic sweet talk like that, it's a wonder we didn't do this months ago."

"Mm," he agreed absently, leaning over her, frowning at something. Turning his head to the left, he grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and shoved them on. Leaning over her again, he scrunched up his nose and blinked, then turned his head to the right and blinked again, moving in even closer. Lips pressing lightly to her cheek, he whispered, "You've got freckles." His tongue darted out, pressing lightly against her skin before he pulled back with a grin, snapping his glasses off and tossing them to the nightstand. "We match."

Way too tired for excitable-Doctor, she buried her face in the mattress and threw her arms over her head. "Go to sleep," she said loudly, ending up with a mouthful of sheets. Spitting them out, she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, determined not to pay him any more attention. Hoping he'd take the hint and go away.

A second later, she dropped her hands to the bed in frustration and sat up.

The Doctor's finger hovered in midair, where her back had pushed it.

Her eyes settled on his amused ones. "You're drawing on me."

Chuckling, he dropped his hand to his side. "Not at the moment, I'm not. My notepad seems to have left me." Losing interest in that with the speed of a five-year-old on an all-sugar diet, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. "Come on. Let's go bathe."

"Wha--" she began, resisting his efforts to get her to stand. "I'm tired, Doctor. I just want to sleep."

"But we need to shower."

"What's with you and showering?" She shoved his hands aside in annoyance, eyeing him balefully. "You go shower. I wanna sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night and then we had sex, quite a vigorous bout I might add, and now I'm exhausted."

"Technically we didn't have sex," he pointed out, taking both of her hands in his and tugging on them. His thumbs brushed lightly over her palms, tickling her and making her stomach go all flip-floppy. "However, we are sticky and icky."

She groaned and sank back to the bed. "I say this with all due respect, Doctor, but please... get bent."

Sighing heavily, he drew her back up, dragging her, protesting, to the end of the bed. "Really, Rose, I insist." Pulling her with him, he yanked her to her feet and then stood toe to toe with her, staring into her eyes as his hands circled around her back and dropped to her waist, thumbs caressing the flesh of her hips. "I insist you... come with me."

He grinned.

Rolling her eyes at his pun and shivering at the light touches of his hands, she pressed her hips forward. "Doesn't feel like there's any chance of that soon." He was soft, not a hint of hardness in sight, and though she was tempted to try, she really was tired. Really did need some sleep. After a day of running and laughing and hugging and handholding, she was ready to drop.

But after tonight... tonight she wanted to crawl into bed and stay there for a week. With the Doctor beside her.

Hands sliding lower, he cupped her arse, hauling her closer, pressing flesh against flesh before spinning her around and plastering himself against her back. "How can you be tired?" Caressing her breasts, he hefted their weight in his hands, hips shifting against hers.

"How can you not?" she shot back, looking down to gather her thoughts and catch her breath. The lamp, still lying on the floor, spread a puddle of orange-ish yellow light across their feet and legs. She leant back, shivering at the feel of his fingers lightly caressing her skin, just teasing, tickling touches of his fingertips and then his palms, sweeping across her stomach and breasts. Here and there.

He placed a kiss on her shoulder before resting his chin there.

Directly across from them was a large mirror over the dresser. The two of them were framed in it, the Doctor's eyes on hers in the reflection. With a pool of light to their left, and darkness surrounding them everywhere else, it was like they were the only two people in the hotel.

On the planet. In the universe.

Dropping her head back to his shoulder, she watched as he languorously touched her, eyes on hers the entire time. Her intimate muscles clenched with each swipe of his finger, each breath on her neck, each rise and fall of his chest against her back.

"Quite easily, I assure you," he murmured into her ear, then slid one hand down to her soft curls.

Struggling to remember what they'd been talking about, she watched through half-opened eyes as his fingers teased her clit.

"I just don't need as much." His fingers slid over her a few times, hand moving unhurriedly in the mirror.

His hot breath ghosted along her neck, hair brushing against her temple, sending a shiver through her. She saw his eyes watching her watch them as he slid his finger inside her. She gasped softly, muscles grasping at his finger, drawing it further into her swollen folds. "Seems to me," she whispered, then cleared her throat and began again in a stronger voice. "Seems to me you need quite a bit."

His lips turned up and she heard a breathless chuckle in her ear, but then he slid his finger free and spun her around. "I do need. Need you quite often. More time to think about it when you don't sleep much." Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, hands cupping the back of her neck, holding her still for his lips to slide over hers.

He was backing her up slowly.

When he finally pulled away, her lungs were starved for breath, chest struggling for air. Her body began to simmer even more. Resting his forehead against hers, he licked his lips. "D'you know how many fantasies I have of you?" Hands sliding down to her arse, he squeezed her flesh, pressing her closer.

Squealing a little, she stood on tiptoes, arching into him, breasts smooshing against his chest. Sending him a chastising look, she opened her mouth to reply, shook her head, and then snapped it shut again. Couldn't be more than she had certainly. Easily a dozen and a half involved the Doctor, and that was just in this body. "A fair few?"

"A fair few?" He pulled back a bit, staring at her, face scrunched up as if she'd insulted him. "A fair few? I've got 168 right off the top of my head. More if you count the TARDIS and telepathy, but-- a few?" Scoffing, he twisted his mouth up. "I think I'm insulted."

Stunned, she blinked at him, bemusement crawling in her. "A hundred and-- I-- that's... that's a lot-- hang on. TARDIS? You fantasize about me and... and the TARDIS? Sexually?" That was just wrong. And not right. Completely wrong. He had sexual fantasies about his ship? "Well, I mean, you're always inside her, yeah? S'pose that's sort of sexual--"

Rolling his eyes, he tossed her that look again, the one she was beginning to hate. "Human-thinker. It's not about sex, it's a mind thing. Telepathy. I'm decent at it, not spectacular, mind--"

"Ring the press, the Doctor admits to not being spectacular at something," she teased, hands sliding down around his waist, holding him the same way he was holding her, fingers digging into his arse cheeks.

"I'm decent at it, not the best," he repeated, eyeing her to see if she'd interrupt him again, but she shook her head and mimed zipping her lips. "She's able to boost my ability." Grinning, he smacked a kiss to her lips. "We could mind-baise."

Rolling her eyes, she slid one of her hands up to his lower back, painting abstract patterns there. His fingers followed suit. "The TARDIS is a prude. She won't even let you say naughty words and you think she'll help you play naughty mind games?" Dropping her head to his shoulder as a yawn burst from her, she slid her hand around to his cock, checking again to see if it was hardening.

Possibly a teeny, tiny bit?

"Won't have a choice, and it's not like she-- well, it's hard to explain."

Rose stroked him slowly as his hand moved around to her folds, sliding a finger down to play with her clit. "Tired," she whinged, breathing deeply, getting a bouquet of scents tickling her nose. The Doctor, sex, her, sex, oranges. "Most men fall asleep right after," she muttered.

"Ah, well, Time Lords don't typically get tired after sex, Rose. We get... excited. Hyper."

Resting her forehead against his, she slid her hand from his arse to his chest, to play with the light smattering of hair there, running her fingers through it. "But. You're always hyper."

He raised an eyebrow at her, sliding his free hand up to her breasts.

Lifting her head, she stared at him. "Hang on, so... all those times you were super hyper, you--" eyes widening, she fought a smile. "You'd..."

"Wanked?" he offered, pinching her nipple and then brushing his thumb over it. "Oh, yes. Well, mostly. Well, sometimes. Sometimes it was just sugar."

Laughing, she dropped her forehead back to his shoulder. "I can't believe you were wanking all this time."

Hand leaving her breast, he lifted her head up for a kiss, pressing his lips to hers and smoothing his thumb over her cheek. "Oi, and you weren't?" he scoffed. "Caught you, didn't I?" Brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he ran his eyes over her chest. "You know, there are so many places I haven't tasted you yet." He dipped down to suck on the flesh of her neck where it joined her shoulder. "So many places I haven't felt." One hand cupped her breast roughly, playing with the nipple, sending pulses of electricity through her. Dropping to his knees, he raised his eyes to hers. "Will you let me taste you, Rose?"

A delicious thrill began to hum in her and she suddenly began to see the benefits of a shower, though she wasn't about to admit that to him. "Thought you were rather thorough earlier." Pressing her finger to her chin coyly, she tilted her head to the side. "Pretty sure that was your tongue I felt."

He hummed in response, kissed the inside of her thigh and then stood up again. "Think it was."

Chuckling, she leant into him and rubbed her breasts against his chest, delighting in the feel of the light hair and hard flesh beneath. It sent tingling feelings through her. "Thought we were both pretty thorough."

"Oh, we were," he assured her, then bent down suddenly and lifted her up, hands on her arse, until she had to wrap her legs around his waist or just dangle there. So, she wrapped them tightly around his cool skin, feeling the flesh and bones move as he shifted under her weight. She rocked into his stomach, grinning when he grunted in pleasure. Fingers clutching her arse tighter, he headed toward the bathroom. "Plan to be rather thorough again." Once there, he dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard on it.

Squirming as a tug of pleasure settled between her legs, she ducked her head to his shoulder, hoping he hadn't heard her low moan.

His fingers tickled and traced the skin of her thighs, mouth releasing her nipple. Lips by her ear, he breathed, "I like the little sounds you make when you're aroused, Rose. And when you come."

She was reminded that he'd heard her before, knew what she sounded like, smelt like. Everything but what she felt and tasted like. Until tonight. It was a bit unfair really. Flattening her hand against his stomach, she shifted, dropping her hand between them, curling her fingers around his cock.

He was beginning to harden finally.

"I wanna learn the way you sound, Doctor." Stroking him, with tight squeezes here and there, she smirked when he groaned long and hard in her ear. "Just like that."

"Gonna baise you. Finally gonna baise you." His hands held her away from him and he set her on the floor, moaning at the loss of her hand, the loss of their bodies pressed together. Leaning forward, he bit her earlobe and whispered in a low, rumbling voice, "Hard."

Excitement jumped in her at the smoldering look he was giving her. She could do nothing but stare back at him, feeling the throb between her legs growing stronger, the heat of molasses thickening in her veins. "That's quite a bounce back time you've got."

Instead of answering, he cupped the back of her head and dragged her mouth to his, devouring her with lips and teeth and tongue, offering just as much as he was taking. With bruising force, he pressed his mouth to hers again and again, and she had to clutch his hips, digging her nails into his flesh against the onslaught. She heard him gasp, felt him shudder under her touch.

Then he pulled away and turned his back to her to fiddle with the shower.

She stood empty and alone just a foot from him, rocking on her heels as the sudden absence of his presence registered in her mind, and her body caught up with it.

Adjusting the faucets until steam began to form, he stepped into the stall, holding his hand out to her with a look that was filled with promises of lots of naughty things. The water hit his head and ran down in rivulets, flattening his hair and dripping into places she wanted to explore in further detail, but he never took his eyes off of her.

She took his hand and stepped in with him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her under the gently falling fountain of water, letting it sluice over her body. It was warm and refreshing, but startling as well. She arched her back away from the water and ended up plastered against him.

Not a bad place to be.

"Bit better than sleep, isn't it?" One of his hands drifted down the curve of her back, slipping wetly around the swell of her arse.

"No," she gasped, pressing closer to his hard, muscled flesh, pretending it was the water making her breathless. "It's not wetter, it's only better-- I mean, it's not better, it's only wetter."

Smirking, he reached around her, grabbing a bottle of something.

"Shut up," she muttered, smacking his arm.

Uncapping the bottle, he dumped some of the contents into his palm. "I'll bet it is wetter." Rubbing his hands together, lathering them up, he pressed the tip of his tongue to the back of his teeth and tilted his head, considering her. "I'll bet you are."

The fact that he was right wasn't something she wanted him to know, he was cocky enough as it was, so she shrugged and pretended nonchalance. The scent of vanilla wafted between them as he raised his hands to her breasts and began soaping her up.

Naked, wet, and sudsy, she reached out a hand to steady herself, thinking about how easy it was to press into his touches, to strain closer to his naked flesh, to grab him and snog him senseless. Then his hands slid around her bum and dragged her closer, caressing her arse--up, then down, then up again--while he dipped his head to capture her mouth with his own.

He wasn't snogging her. Wasn't kissing just to kiss her. This was something altogether different. It was hard and rough and demanding; possessive.

When he finally pulled away, giving her time to catch her breath, she was gasping, muscles straining, lungs burning. And she wanted him right back where he'd been. Wanted his mouth on hers again. Wanted his cock inside her.

Wanted to possess him and demand from him just as much as he was from her.

He slid his hands slid around to her front, soaping up her shoulders, then her breasts.

Looking down at her wet, sudsy body, she released him with a small smile and slid her hands up her sides, brushing his hands from her breasts to use her own fingers and palms on them. "And this is just about cleanliness?"

His smile froze in place, eyes darting from one breast to the other. "Completely."

"Nothing else?" She arched her back, pressing into her hands as they slid slickly along her skin, cupping each breast, thumbs brushing over her nipples, then pinching harder. Desire shot through her, more demanding and urgent this time.

Eyes lifting to hers, he watched her for a moment as she tried to temper the desire spiraling in her. Then he leant forward and bit her lower lip, hot, moist breath entering her mouth.

It was more intimate, more erotic, than having his fingers inside her.

Lifting her hands to the back of his head, she held him still, fingers threading into his wet hair, and kissed him like she'd wanted him to do. But only for a moment. Deciding it was time to turn the teasing tables on him, she drew back, just a hairsbreadth. "Nothing else?" she breathed, licking the taste of him from her lips.

He groaned.

The sound vibrated through her, turning her lazy yearning into a fire crackling at her insides.

Brushing one of her nipples, he pinched it, palming the flesh and pressing it roughly upward, forcing a moan from her lips. "Maybe a little more," he admitted, dipping his head to scrape his teeth along her shoulder.

Her knees tried to buckle under her, but the Doctor grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to him, no longer pretending that this was about anything else but sex. His lips crushed down over hers, one hand darting down to her arse, pressing her more firmly against him. He was completely hard now, pressed against her stomach, trapped there between their bodies.

She whimpered.

The small sound forced him forward, hips bucking against hers.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he drew her with him under the fall of water, studying her through narrowed eyes. "I want you, Rose. Wanna take you hard," he shoved her against the back wall, "soft," his lips pressed lightly against the corner of her mouth. "From behind," one hand slipped down her back, hauling her tightly to him, "on top," his breath came quicker, eyes growing darker, words coming faster, "underneath, on my knees, fingers in you, mouth and tongue on you." He shuddered a bit. "Oh, Rose, I want your mouth on me again." Thumb on her lower lip, he pressed a bit hard, rubbing it like he was smearing lipstick. "Always want your mouth. Your lips are lovely. Brilliant. So soft and firm and warm." He leant forward, breath tickling her lips. "So wet."

Every word he said, every touch, awakened her desire more, so much so that all she wanted to do was fuck him hard and fast, wherever they could. But she knew from experience that showers weren't conducive to having sex. Reaching down between their bodies, scraping her nails along his skin as she went, she wrapped her hand around his cock. "Is it for me this time?" she asked.

"That," he stressed, closing his eyes briefly as she began to stroke him, "was for you last time." He placed his hand over hers, showing her how he wanted to be touched. "Not my fault you couldn't keep your mouth and hands off of it."

Snorting, she cupped his balls, squeezing, then releasing. "Sorry. If you'd prefer I didn't," she said, squeezing him once more before dropping her hands to her sides.

He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and shoved her harder against the cool wall, grabbing her hand and roughly placing it back on him. "Never stop." The words were a plea. An order.

One that she wanted to obey. God, did she. The thought of being able to touch him whenever and wherever she wanted made her squirm as her inner muscles clenched tight.

Fingers tightening around him, she stroked him up and down, watching him all the while. Watching him hiss in a breath when she did something that pleased him, and wince in discomfort when she stroked too hard, or squeezed too tightly. It was hard to keep from rubbing her legs together. She needed friction. Needed him to touch her. Needed his hands on her and his cock inside her.

Just the thought of the hard flesh in her hand sliding into her folds made her moan and lick her lips.

Her other hand slid back up to her breast, fingers pinching her nipple as he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. She leant forward and tugged him closer by his cock. "Fottimi, Doctor." Squirming more when he groaned deep in his throat, she whimpered, "Hard. Please."

"Your wish," he husked out, lifting her leg and hooking it over his waist. Taking her hand from his cock, he kissed her fingers, heated gaze fixed on her as he pressed forward, teasing her folds with the tip of his erection. "My command."

He dropped her hand and grabbed her hip, his other hand holding her leg under the knee as he rocked forward, just a bit, making her gasp. His cock pushed into her, spreading her an inch at a time, but going no further. Nails digging into his back as she scrabbled for purchase around his waist, she thrust her hips forward, slipping on the wet floor of the tub.

"Bed," she gasped, and then again when he slid deeper, then drew back just enough that the tip of him pressed against her clit. "Oh, god." Releasing the wall behind her, she grabbed him as her foot slipped again.

He chuckled, gripping her more tightly, licking his lips as he leant down to suck on the flesh of her neck. "What's wrong with where we are?"

"I'm slipping. It's not-- Doctor!" Nails digging into his back and shoulders, she pressed into him, sending his cock halfway inside of her. "Not easy to stand in here. Me and Mickey--"

Sudden as a shot, he dropped her leg and pushed her away from him, steadying her absently when she slipped.

She braced herself against the wall. "Wha--"

Eyes darkening, they focused sharply on her. His jaw worked back and forth for a moment, before he reached out to grab her arm and yank her to him, kissing her hard. "I should start punishing you for every mistake." Hands cupping her breasts, he pushed her back against the cold tile wall and plastered his wet body against hers. "Every time you mention Mickey. Or Jimmy. Jack." Mouth thinning into a hard line, he drew back, tilting his head to the side, eyes moving over her as she stood naked and wet before him, watching him back, wondering... excitement poured through her at what he might do next.

"Punish me... how?" she asked, biting her lip, getting wetter at the thought of all the things he could--might--do to her. She wanted them. Well, maybe. Depended. She didn't think he'd do something that would hurt her. This was the Doctor after all.

But the look in his eyes, the promise there... the feel of his cock pressing against her stomach. She didn't care anymore, she just wanted him inside her now.

Sliding her hands down his slick flesh, she grabbed his arse and pressed him closer, nipping at his lower lip when he glanced back up at her face distractedly. "Promise you'll punish me, Doctor?"

His eyes widened, a small smile curving up his lips. "Oh." Pinching one of her nipples, he studied her face, watching her hiss in pleasure. "You like that." He did it again, sending shivers of pleasure straight to her folds, but they both knew he wasn't referring to what his hand was doing.

Instead of answering, she kissed him, teeth clacking against his, tongue scraping roughly along the roof of his mouth. It was messy and clumsy and wet. She whimpered, reaching down between them, grasping his cock with eager fingers, stroking him hard, trying to make him lose control.

And he did.

Grabbing her tightly, he stroked her throbbing folds a few times. "Gonna baise you right here, Rose. Show you how it's done." Lifting her leg again, he fell forward, slipping on the wet porcelain. His hand shot out to brace himself against the tile wall.

Eager and excited at the prospect, despite knowing it probably wouldn't work, she grabbed his shoulders tightly, digging her nails in, making him arch against her while she dug her heel into his arse. She loved the feel of him against her.

He steadied himself, dropping his hand to her leg and sliding it under her thigh, tickling her flesh, teasing it, causing shivers to run through her. Spreading her legs, he slipped his fingers inside her again, eyes studying her face.

He really liked watching.

And she liked feeling.

Grabbing his cock, positioning him, she felt him slip forward at the change in weight. He poked into her thigh rather than her aching channel and had to drop her leg to grab the wall again. She banged back against it, his hand the only thing saving her from a bad headache.

Sighing, she panted against the tile, anticipation leaving her. "Can we go to the bedroom now?" Her heart was beating so fast from all the near-falls, she thought it was going to burst through her chest.

Reaching back to the faucets, he turned the water off, then grabbed her hand, drawing her from the tub. Once they were safely on the fluffy green rug, he swung her toward him, plastering her right back against him. "Floor all right?" he gasped, hips bucking into hers.

Seeing the desperation beginning to edge into his eyes, she considered it. But the thought of shagging the Doctor on a cold, hard floor of a hotel room with who-knew-what on it made her shudder. She just couldn't do it. "Not likely. Probably lousy with germs."

"Probably," he agreed with a frown, tossing it a longing look as he pulled her to the door, stopping suddenly to kiss her, pressing her against the door. It smacked back against the wall, forcing her back another foot, and they both fell with it. The Doctor landed on top of her at an angle, and she grinned at the disgruntled look on his face.

He opened his mouth--to chastise her, she was sure--but the door slipped a little further under their weight and she burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around his neck. Pressing a small kiss to his lips, she grinned up at him, fingers playing with his hair.

She felt his lips curve up, but he was fighting it for some reason.

Sucking in a breath, she pulled back enough to see his face. Reaching between them she cupped his balls, palming them a bit, noting the way his mouth dropped open a little more, breath bursting across her face. His eyes dropped to her breasts, flitted back up to her mouth, then back down again. "Lighten up," she whispered.

Jerking back with a quick apology, he straightened up and pulled at his ear. "Didn't crush you, did I?"

Pushing away from the door, she raised an eyebrow at him. "In that body?" she scoffed. "I meant, you know, have a laugh, don't be so serious. We're not determining the fate of a planet here."

His shoulders lost some of the tension in them and he let out a sigh. "I can't help it. This is..." he gestured to himself, "this is what you get with me." Taking her hand, he stared at it, then looked back up at her, brushing a strand of wet hair behind her shoulder. "I'm aggressive and possessive and not all of that is because of this body."

Tightening her hand around his, she grabbed his cock with her other hand and stroked it determinedly. "I like it," she admitted. "Although, this punishment thing, we need to discuss that." Eyes sparkling at him, she played her thumb over the tip. "Like, will there be spanking?"

Instead of sharing in her amusement, he cupped the back of her head and brought her in for a fierce kiss, hips bucking into her hand as she continued to move on him. One hand slid to her hip and he pulled back, tapping it lightly. "Up." Hooking both hands under her arse, he bent down, urging her onto him.

Dubious, even though they were out of the shower now, she obliged, hopping up as he lifted her.

She grabbed handfuls of his hair and dug her nails into his back, expecting a fall, but he held her easily now that he wasn't slipping on wet porcelain.

When she loosened her hold on him, he grunted in disappointment and she realized that he liked it. Liked it rough? Dropping her mouth to his as he headed into the bedroom, she scraped her nails down his shoulders and back, tightening her legs around his waist, feeling a slight friction against her clit.

She moaned and he tore his mouth from hers, gazing up at her face eagerly.

Every step he took rubbed against her flesh and she could feel his stomach muscles tightening in response to her every response. And when his hand slid further around her arse to her folds, she couldn't help but cry out at the feel of his finger teasing her flesh.

Rising up, she grabbed his cock, trying to position him, to slide him inside her. But their positions were awkward and she had to give up when she felt herself slipping down his body.

They were by the bed now and she could see herself in the mirror, the orange light from the lamp on the floor bathing them in a ghoulish light. Taking his mouth, she watched in the mirror, watched her body move up and down on him, seeking the friction that it so desperately needed, sliding along his wet, warm skin. What she wanted though, was the thick feel of his cock filling her up.

But she wasn't getting that from this position.

The Doctor spun them around, quick as a whip, making her dizzy for a moment, and then again when she fell backward onto the bed. She bounced a few times, having just enough time to catch herself before the Doctor was on her. He pressed her back, hooking her legs under his arms, pushing them to her chest as he thrust into her.

"Doctor," she cried out in surprise, feeling him finally inside her, finally filling her, finally fucking her.

And, judging by the frozen look of pleasure on his face, he felt it too. He wasn't moving, he was holding himself still, fingers digging into her thighs.

She shifted under him, trying to adjust her position a little. His cock slid in deeper, and she gasped, unused to anything bigger than her--and his--fingers inside her lately. He was so deep, the angle just enough to be uncomfortable. "Doctor," she breathed, pushing him back with her legs.

His hands, braced on either side of her head, fisted in the sheets. A hissed out breath left him, bursting over her face, mouth barely moving as he spoke. "Don't move."

"Hurts," she gasped, pushing harder. She wasn't sure he heard her until he slid out a bit, adjusting his knees on the bed. The pressure lessened and she breathed deeply in relief. "Thank y--"

"Shh, Rose." A hand lifted, clumsily pressing over her mouth. "Just... don't." Closing his eyes, he shuddered, voice low and broken. "Your voice... it's too much."

The deep, rasping sound of his words made her inner muscles clench, forcing a low groan from his throat, bared to her as he raised his head to the ceiling, swallowing thickly. His hips shot forward, eyes snapping open to focus on hers as he dropped his hand back to the bed again.

"Hold still." He panted harshly a few times, then breathed out a sharp breath. "I can't... Rose, you feel so--"

She couldn't help it. The intensity in his gaze and his voice made her whole body react.

Eyes desperate, the Doctor did too. He lunged forward with a grunt, moving deeper again, then shoved her legs tighter against her body, rocking her back. He didn't stop for a moment in his eagerness, just pulled out a bit and then thrust back in, hard and unrestrained, sliding so deliciously along her folds that she wanted to hold him there forever, sort of defeating the purpose, but needing him to stay there, buried deep inside of her.

Needing his hands and mouth, but so ready to come she thought she'd explode.

His strokes were quick and uncontrolled at first, desperate and urgent, and she loved every second of it. Loved that he couldn't control himself, that he wasn't in charge of his body because of her.

It was how she felt around him constantly.

Moaning low in her throat at the feel of his hard flesh, she tipped her head back, clenching him tight, breathing out a few huffed sounds. It was hard to do more than let him rock into her, so she lifted her hands to grasp at his biceps, nails tightening on his arms. After a dozen strokes, he seemed to gain some small amount of control over himself. He slowed down, rocking more leisurely into her as she melted into the bed.

A hand rose to her face, brushing back the wet strands stuck to her cheeks. "Extraordinary," he panted, eyes sweeping over her face. "You feel phenomenal. Just gorgeous. Don't ever wanna leave you." He sped up his thrusts, just a bit, then more when she dropped one hand to her breast and squeezed the flesh, pinching her nipple. "Gonna stay with me?"

Blinking at him, surprise washing over her at the vulnerability in his voice and eyes, she nodded, whimpering as he stroked harder. "Told you I would."

"How long?" he grunted, putting all of his weight on her for a moment to adjust his position. He leant back, grasping her calves and hooking them over his shoulders. A breathless sound left him and his eyes closed briefly, throat working rapidly as he held himself back from sliding too deeply, but at the same time, buried himself in her. He went still. "How long, Rose?" His voice was rough, desperate.

"Forever," she gasped, pressing her arms to the bed and pushing her hips up, trying to gain a little control herself, to ride him from below when he refused to move anymore, but it wasn't the easiest position. Her legs were tight between them, head uncomfortably flat on the bed with no pillow to cushion it, but she wouldn't have traded this for anything. "Don't ever want-- want to leave you, why did you stop?" Pushing her hips into him, she curled her feet over his shoulders, rocking, moving, trying to get him to start moving again. She was beginning to lose the urgent need he'd built up so deliciously inside her. "Doctor!"

Hands dropping to her waist, he began to move again, pushing into her with slow, sure, strokes that turned into shorter thrusts within just a few passes. "Forever," he panted, eyes focused on her, wet hair plastered against his forehead. "Gonna hold you to that." Then he finally began to move more quickly, thrusting harder, pushing deeper, straining inside of her.

Her hand dropped to her clit, rubbing it desperately, trying to climb back up to where she'd been before he'd slowed things down. "You'd better." Her breasts were jiggling with his every thrust and she saw his eyes lower to them.

She arched higher.

"Never gonna... never leave you." He released the sheet to brush her hand away from her clit, and she dropped back with a frustrated groan. "Wanna come," she whinged, touching herself again, fingers moving rapidly.

A darkness sprang to his eyes, reflected back at her despite the lack of glasses. Despite the gloom of the room. "Don't."

Frowning, ignoring him, she continued to rub herself, feeling the pleasure rise up again, feeling it sweep through her, making her reach and seek and strain for it. Wanting it now. And she was almost there when he stopped her again.

"Doctor," she bit out, glaring at him. "Not gonna come merely from you." Her voice was choppy and broken, body bouncing with his every stroke. "Sorry if that hurts your manly pride."

He grunted and rocked harder, neck stretching back. The muscles strained and lengthened. "Don't touch-- don't... rosebud."

"What?" Raising her head to look at him, she gasped when he rubbed his thumb over her clit once, then dropped his hand back to the bed to thrust more quickly.

"Rosebud." He grinned briefly, losing his pace, then leant forward, rolling into her, creating a deeper, richer thrust.

She rolled her eyes and dropped her head back to the bed, holding a hand over her eyes with a giggle. "You're not going to start calling it that."

"Why not?" he panted, rocking, rocking, shoving himself into her, each stroke short and powerful, causing her arousal to flame out of control. She was close. So close. So was he. She saw the desperation on his face and in his eyes. Heard the way he rasped out her name. Felt his body tautening on hers.

She tried again to rub her clit, but he growled at her, grabbing both of her hands in his, twining their fingers together. Pressing them into the bed, he thrust hard. Harder. Body braced on his arms and knees, he moved quickly, control slipping again. His hips bucked into her arse and thighs, cock sliding against her clit every few strokes, but not enough to make her come.

Driving into her, burying himself deep--uncomfortably deep--inside her, he grunted out noises, surging forward with one last gasp of effort, hissing in a breath between grunts. He reared up, coming with a final, long, drawn out groan. Hands tightening on hers, fingers squeezing, he pressed into her, hips moving uncontrollably. "Forever," he breathed, cock pulsing deep inside her.

Moments later, he collapsed over her, his hot breath wafting over her cheek.

Whimpering, she shifted under him, wanting to come, to clench around him while he was still hard. Wanting him to feel her coming around him. But he was pushing her legs to her chest, resting on her, trying to keep most of his weight off of her, but still heavy and damp, unmoving.

And with every passing second, his cock was softening in her.

Her hand, loose in his grip, trailed down to her clit, fingers stretching to reach their goal.

Jerking back suddenly, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pressed it back to the bed. "Don't." Eyes on hers, he slipped free of her. His cock, still partially hard, brushed against her, warm and wet.

"What?" she asked stupidly, licking her lips. He leant down to kiss her, taking his time, breath gusting over her cheeks as he fought for breath. Wrapping her arm around him, she lowered him over her, bringing him down until he touched her everywhere, but her legs were beginning to ache. She moaned and dropped her arm. "Sore."

"Sorry." He trailed his palms down both of her legs, and settled them on either side of him. "Was a bit rough. D'you mind that? The roughness?" His eyes studied hers unhurriedly, lazily watching her, ignoring the fact that she was still waiting to come. "Because I think I like it." Patting her arse lightly, he gestured to the head of the bed. "Budge up."

Jerking at his touch, squirming under his gaze, she bit her lip and scooted up on the bed until her head was resting comfortably on a pillow, wet hair beneath her.

Crawling over her, he brushed another kiss to her lips, then dropped down beside her, closing his eyes and resting an arm over her, panting heavily.

She raised her brows at him, waiting.

He didn't seem too hyper this time. In fact, he looked exhausted. And his hands weren't touching her. Annoyed and frustrated, she slipped her own hand down her stomach, deciding to take care of herself, but he once again grabbed her wrist, without even opening his eyes.

Rolling into her side, he growled into her ear in a low, panting voice, "Punishment."

"Punishm-- oh, I don't think so." Trying to jerk her hand from his grip, she discovered that it was easier said than done.

He grimaced and held her firmly. "Rose." Brows rising archly, he pressed a kiss to her lips, teasing her, taunting her with his touches and then pulled back. "No."

Well, she wasn't a southpaw, but it would do, she guessed. Smirking at him, she darted her other hand between her legs, succeeding in slipping it into her folds and stroking her clit a few times before she felt him loosen her other hand. She grinned wider as he shifted on the bed. Closing her eyes as the pleasure stoked higher, building, building, build--

Something slipped over her wrist and her eyes snapped open. There was a blur of color in the yellow-orange light.

"Oi, what d'you think you're doing?" she bit out, startled.

The cloth tightened and he grabbed her other wrist, sliding his tie over it too, pulling it until her wrists were bound together. "Punishing you." Leaning over her, he tipped her chin up with a finger and pressed his lips to hers. "Told you I would."

"Well, yeah, but--" she struggled against the bonds, lowering them to her stomach, reaching for her clit, contorting her body to touch herself. She had just managed to slide a finger over her clit with one leg up and a twist to the side when he grabbed the tie in the middle of her wrists and drew it above her head. "I thought you meant spanking!" she cried, desperately shifting on the bed to make herself come. Squeezing her legs together helped, but wasn't nearly enough.

Near tears, she dropped back to the bed and glared at him.

"You can't do this, Doctor. Seriously, you can not do this." Squirming around, trying to free her hands from him, she stopped suddenly and blinked when he settled next to her and curled against her side.

"Can. And am." Yawning, breath bursting against her breast, making the nipple harden even more, he closed his eyes. "You might enjoy spanking, and that's no punishment, is it?"

"Doctor." She shifted her shoulder, but he merely cupped his hand over her breast, thumb sliding idly over her nipple. "Bastard," she snarled, deciding right then and there that she'd never sleep with him again. Ever. No matter how much he begged or pleaded or teased or... or kissed her. Touched her.

Squeezing her legs together, she plotted her revenge.