Title: Sins of the Flesh
Rating: Adult (M)
Genre: PWP, smut, romance
Summary: Rose and the Doctor take a trip.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Thanks: to JennyLD for the beta and the insatiable need for Priest!D. Me too, though. So, yeah.
Warning: This chapter is a bit more... religion-themed and may offend. And, other things. So, if you get offended easily by certain sex things and religion mixed in with the sex stuff, you might want to stay away.
"Come on, Rose," the Doctor called from the doorway. "Shake a leg."
Rose rolled her eyes, smoothing her hands down her forest green gown, feeling the smooth silk beneath her palms. It was soft and richly colored, making her feel like a titled lady, and she wondered if that's what she was supposed to be. The Doctor had only pointed her to the right time period, telling her to wear something nice.
Nice, she thought, eyeing the rows of gowns. Depended on what his definition of nice was.
She'd been tempted to wear one of the more... revealing dresses, but without knowing what they were headed into, she didn't want to make a scene. Cause a bloody riot or something, knowing her luck.
Turning sideways in the mirror, she noted that the contrast of her pale skin and blonde hair was striking against the darker color of the gown. With one last, quick glance up and down her form, she grabbed the pair of matching elbow length gloves and hurried out of the wardrobe room. "Oi, I'm coming!"
He wasn't in the hallway, waiting impatiently for her like she'd expected.
Frowning, she picked up her skirts and headed down the hall. He was always hanging around lately, watching her dress. Bit of a voyeur, he was. Liked to watch. Well, ever since they'd started having sex anyway. Could've done before, she guessed, but she'd never caught him.
She made her way quickly to the console room, each step causing her skirts to swish against her legs.
"Rose!" the Doctor yelled again, ducking his head into the hall, hand gripping the doorframe to prop himself up in his unstable position. When he spotted her, his lips turned, brows rising in admiration. "Well. Definitely worth the wait. Although--" he tapped his wrist, which was lacking a watch.
Sighing, she considered slowing her pace just to annoy him, but when she saw his eyes drop to her cleavage, she ended up quickening it instead. He popped out of sight again before she reached the doorway, and by the time she entered the room, he was outside the TARDIS, waiting for her in the bright sunlight.
She was pretty sure she'd had this dream before.
Stopping by the console, she set her gloves down and pulled them on, one by one. Patting her hair one last time to make sure it was still in the loose upsweep she'd set it in, she once again picked up her skirts and headed out to join the Doctor.
Daylight shone down on her, blinding her for a moment. Closing her eyes, she raised a hand to shield them from the sun, then reopened them, setting her gaze on the surrounding countryside. Deflating a bit, she turned to the left, seeing rolling hills of green with small homes dotting them, red roofs with whitewashed walls glowing in the evening sun.
She glanced at the Doctor, shoulders drooping a bit. "Earth. England," she muttered, blinking against the light. "Again. Why is it that we always end up here?"
The Doctor shrugged, slipping her arm through his. "Sorry to disappoint." Closing the TARDIS door behind them, he gestured forward. "Shall we?"
Testing her thin shoes on the gravel path, feeling small rocks dig into her feet, she sighed. "I suppose. Though I don't see why I needed to get dressed up just to visit the country."
He patted her hand in his and smiled. "You will."
Blinking at him, she squinted, wishing she had some sunglasses. Perhaps they'd be a little out of place in this time period, but her eyes weren't exactly thanking her for the beating they were taking. "Great. Lead on. Maybe we can find a cow."
Snorting, she shook her head and leaned into him. "Where are we going anyway?"
Holding his hand up, he licked his finger, held it out to the wind, then pointed it to her left, leaning against her back and aiming his finger for her to see. "Right, there. Do you see?" Warm breath ghosting over her skin, was what she felt. Seeing was... oh, okay, now she could see it.
There was a building just ahead, larger than the others.
"What is it?"
"That," he told her, resuming their trek forward, "is the home of James McCrimmon."
She widened her eyes, making like she was impressed. "And who is James McCrimmon?"
"I am," he said, sounding a bit disappointed. His fingers tightened on her arm briefly before releasing it completely. "Don't you remember? Meeting the queen. Chased by a werewolf." Arms dropping to his sides, he stepped in front of her, blocking the sunlight, letting her see him fully for the first time since leaving the TARDIS.
And what she saw made her knees go weak.
Heart pounding ferociously, she held a hand to it, staring at the white collar around his neck. Lower, to the full black ensemble, and her mouth went dry.
Oh, the memories of that outfit. The things they'd done while he was in it.
He smiled and she realized that this was the reaction he'd been waiting for; for her to lose her verbal skills and go weak in the knees.
Licking her suddenly dry lips, she took a step toward him and lost her footing. Her inner muscles were throbbing just at the sight of him, and when he reached out to catch her, they clenched a few times, stomach somersaulting. "What are you wearing that for?" she hissed, glancing about to make sure the locals weren't coming to stone her to death for tempting a man of the cloth.
Though, she was sure she probably looked infinitely more affected than he did. He just looked smug.
Darting her gaze down, she cursed the sun and its trajectory for putting itself behind him so that the black cloth hid his erection, or lack thereof.
He released her carefully, making sure she was steady on her feet, then stuck his hands in his pockets, grinning like the geek he was. "What? This old thing?" Sending her a wink, he held his arm out and backed toward her a little, watching her expectantly. "Shall we?"
"What are we doing?" Taking his arm gently, almost afraid to touch him lest someone be watching, she glanced around, biting her lip. "Is there a specific, legitimate reason you wore that thing? One that won't get us mobbed?" Body warming to uncomfortable degrees, she resisted the urge to fan herself.
"Rose Tyler," he crowed, grinning even wider. "Are you blushing?" Leaning closer, he stared down at her décolletage, absently brushing a finger along her gloved arm. "Did I tell you that you make quite a sight in this frock?"
She shook her head, looking down, trying to hide the heat in her cheeks that he'd already spotted. It was hard though, what with all the memories attached to his priest garb. There'd been touching, and stroking, and thrusting, and... she was definitely too warm now. Her skin was flushed and she was pretty sure he was aware of it.
"Well, you do. From your lovely hair, to your..." he trailed off, staring at her breasts, pushed up out of her neckline in the latest fashion. "Your feminine assets," he finally mumbled a bit triumphantly, as if the words were hard-won. "Your curves..." he muttered, and she thought maybe she heard a moan, but she couldn't be sure. "The way the green silk hugs your hips, only giving hints at what's beneath. And I want what's beneath," he growled.
She shivered at the need in his tone, wanting to feel powerful for affecting him like this, but all she could feel was weak-kneed and desperate. A thrill shot through her as she leaned close, so close, wishing he'd grab her and snog her good and proper right then and there, but he merely watched her, dark eyes smoldering. She whispered in his ear, making sure to breathe the words out in a low, husky voice. "Take it then, Doctor. Take me."
Fingers tightening on her arm, he shuddered. "Oh, I intend to, Rose." Glancing around, he adjusted their path a bit to the left, giving her a heated look in the orange and pink glow of the dying sun. "I definitely intend to take you. Quite hard and quite fast." And then it was his turn to lean in close to her, lips brushing against her temple. "Or maybe I'll take you slowly, not let you come for hours."
Swallowing thickly, feeling her stomach tumbling out of control as a flood of wetness seeped from her folds, she tried not to let him see how much just his voice affected her. "Is that why you brought me here?" she asked, looking for something else that could've grabbed his attention, but all she could see were farms. "Just to have sex?"
"Just to have sex?" he repeated, voice rising. "We don't 'just have sex'. We've never 'just had sex'. We have great sex." He paused a moment, eyebrows arching. Hand tightening on her arm, he turned to her, and she could see uncertainty in his eyes. "Have we? Ever 'just had sex'? Really? Rose?" His voice was getting more and more unsure with each statement, and when she opened her mouth to respond, he cut her off. "Have we ever 'just had sex', Rose?" But, then his face cleared and he shook his head. "No. No, of course not. We have great sex. Fantastic sex. Stupendous sex!" He tossed his head about, considering his words. "Not that I have all that much to compare it to. I'm not exactly an expert, you know."
She gaped at him, not sure which issue to tackle first, but her mouth decided for her. "If you're not an expert, I don't think I could survive meeting someone who was."
Chuckling, confidence restored, he quickened their pace. To what looked like a church. To possibly have sex. But not 'just sex'.
They walked on in silence for a bit, the crunch of their shoes on the gravel the only sound. And then the church was there, rising up in front of them. A small, cottage-like building that looked like it'd seen better days a hundred years before.
The Doctor stopped, watching her while she examined it. There were shutters and stained glass windows. Weeds covered the entrance. Not a lot of visitors apparently.
But it still made her body throb harder, her breathing quicken. She wanted to drag him inside and throw him across the altar so she could have her way with him. Leave the collar on, but open his shirt to expose his chest. She loved his chest. Hard muscles and planes covered in soft, fine hair, it was just... right now, thinking about it, made her moan and clench her legs tight.
Glancing back, she found him still watching her. There was a darkness on his face that wasn't caused merely by the dead sun and the shadows it left behind.
"I think you should genuflect, Rose." His arm dropped to his side, fingers threading through hers. He pulled her toward the small church, slipping his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. In the last light of day, he depressed the button, unlocking the door, and pushing it open. As she slipped by him, he stopped her.
They were eye-to-eye, chest to chest, and her heart began to pound at the hunger and excitement she saw in his gaze. She felt his fingers pressing against her thigh, felt his hands slowly drawing her skirts up.
"Have you sinned?" he breathed, breath hitching in his throat when she bit her lip and nodded. "Genuflection." When she didn't move after a second, and began leaning into him, he raised a brow at her, and gestured inside with his head. "Go."
Swallowing at the command in his voice, she halted his hand, and slipped past him, into the church. The thought of the Doctor in a priest's frock did things to her insides, that was well known to him. After all, it was how they'd started their new relationship in the first place. And the thought of seducing a priest was something else that did all sorts of scrumptious things to her.
But to have a priest--the Doctor dressed as a priest--seduce her, turned her into a puddle of hormones and endorphins.
She would play the innocent.
Glancing around the dark, dusty church, she found a few pews on either side of the aisle, and a small altar at the back. Images of the Doctor, shirt ripped open, collar still on, writhing beneath her as she rode him, made her grab onto the back of the nearest pew for support.
There was a familiar whirring sound behind her, and then rich yellow candlelight flickered along the walls. A few floor sconces lined the sides of the room, and the Doctor was lighting them all, creating dancing, flickering shapes across the dirty, whitewashed walls.
"Up there," he told her, pointing to the altar as he lit another candle. "On your knees."
Excitement shot through her as she headed down the aisle toward the altar, which was surrounded by a few partially melted candles.
The Doctor quickly joined her, standing just a bit away, not touching her, keeping his arms folded behind his back. "Drop to your knees before me."
Feeling her blood pump faster, she ignored the chill in the air and glanced down at the floor. There was a dusty rug there that she carefully knelt on. Gazing up with eager eyes, she watched him swallow hard, Adam's apple bobbing. Then her eyes lowered, dropping to his trousers, seeing the black material bulging at eye level. She lost her breath.
He was hard.
His hand settled on her hair, lightly threading his fingers into the strands, loosening them from the knot at the back of her head. A few wisps freed themselves, dropping to her cheeks. Wrapping one around his finger, he tilted her head back, pulling lightly, just hard enough to cause a sharp pain in her temple. The finger of his other hand slid beneath her chin, raising her face to his, and she could see by the shadows in his eyes that he was definitely getting into his role. "How have you sinned?" he rasped out with a fevered eagerness.
"Carnally," she breathed, licking her lips and squeezing her legs together, wondering what he'd do if she raised her skirts and slid her fingers inside her swollen folds.
A groan slipped past her lips.
"I've committed sins of the flesh." She looked down briefly, innocently, then flicked her eyes back up to his, all the want and need she had for him in her gaze. "There's this man... I crave his flesh." Seeing his eyes darken even more, feeling his hand tighten in her hair, she whimpered, "I crave him.
His eyes closed briefly and she knew he was just as affected as she was. He tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before dropping his gaze to her face. "Show me."
Seeing the need in his eyes, in the tightness of his mouth, she sucked in a breath of anticipation, not sure how to respond, knowing only that she wanted to do exactly as he said.
Her eyes dropped from his face to his cock, tongue darting out to wet her lips, almost able to taste him already. To feel his hard flesh sliding in and out of her mouth. Another groan left her. Was it normal to want his cock in her mouth, to want to taste him on her tongue almost as much as she wanted him between her slick folds?
Her mouth went dry just thinking about it.
Closing her eyes, she fisted her gloved hands in her skirt, recalling little bits of church from the few times her mum had dragged her there, usually after a visit to grandma Prentice. She flicked her eyes open to stare at him heatedly. "Body of Christ." Parting her lips, just like she'd had to do in church, she waited, fingers tightening in her skirts, slowly drawing the material up, inch-by-inch, revealing her bare thighs.
Eyes on her smooth, white flesh beneath the green gown, he slid his finger to her chin, closing her mouth softly. He caressed the skin there, lightly, so lightly, tickling her, sending a shiver throughout her body. The hand in her hair threaded through more thoroughly, dislodging all of her carefully placed pins. Several fell to the floor, more raining down as he pushed both hands through the strands, shoving her head back. His thumb came to rest just by her lips and she turned her head, opening her mouth to slip it inside, biting gently.
God, it was just his thumb, but it tasted of him, and she whimpered with need.
"Do you think just a taste will do?" he groaned, watching her lift her skirts completely off her lap, showing him everything he cared to see. Everything there was to see since she wasn't wearing any knickers.
"No," she admitted, lowering herself to the floor, widening her legs to accommodate her hands. But she didn't go straight for where she wanted to be touched.
"Think I'll need more than a taste." Sliding her hands down her thighs, feeling the cool, smooth silk of her gloves, she widened her legs further, then slid her fingers back up along the inside, letting her eyes slip shut. Stroking a gloved finger between her aching folds, feeling the silk brushing against her moist flesh, she drew in a shaky breath, gathering moisture to rub at her clit. Gasping at the sensation, she snapped her eyes open. "Think I'll need it all."
Marveling at herself, at how she was behaving, she pushed her reservations to the back of her mind. It was just that she'd never done anything like this before. Never used anything other than her bare hand, and, well, the Doctor's. She didn't even own a vibrator. Though now, feeling the unfamiliar texture of her gloves sliding between her swollen folds, she vowed to do this more often.
To let the Doctor do this more often.
Arching her back as the desire in her began to radiate into pleasure, she rode out the sensations, letting her eyes slip shut again, forgetting where she was. Forgetting all of it but the Doctor. She could smell his familiar scent amidst the unfamiliar and knew he was there, watching her with rapt attention. Knew he was finding it more difficult to breathe with each passing second, could hear him panting lightly as she rubbed faster.
Something tight and brilliant coiled in her, urging her on, forcing her to move more quickly, forcing her legs to widen, her nipples to pebble hard.
Her imagination had always been rather good, and she used it now, imagining him touching her. It wasn't her fingers on her flesh. It was his. More than unfamiliar, it was arousing and odd. There were slick sounds as she moved her hand, but she couldn't feel the moisture.
A rustle of movement had her lazily opening her eyes to find the Doctor crouched in front of her, eyes on her hand as she continued to stroke herself.
She followed his gaze, saw the deep, green material of her glove against her pale skin. Saw the way her hand moved as she slipped a finger inside.
A groan escaped her, the sensation not as pleasant as the Doctor's cock, but enough to cause her hips to buck forward.
The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses, placing them on his face, and she felt wetness seep from her. He was so gorgeous anyway, able to turn her on with a look, or a touch. Just his voice made her squirm.
But his glasses were in a league of their own.
In all the times they'd had sex--wonderful, fantastic sex as he'd said--he'd never kept them on, and she hadn't had the nerve to ask. But, now, here they were, and the glasses had come out to play.
She reached out with her free hand and grabbed his shirt, yanking him closer. Lips slamming into his, she kissed him hard, not pausing to be gentle; she wanted everything he could give her. All of it. And she wasn't opposed to taking it. Her mouth opened on his again and again, drawing him closer still.
Needing him. Wishing he'd fuck her until she begged him to stop.
But he pulled free, tearing his mouth from hers, eyes fixed on her face, heavy breath washing over her skin. "I want to taste you." His hand encircled her wrist, but she didn't stop thrusting her finger. In fact, she added another and plunged deeper. She didn't halt her movements, but rocked harder. And he let her. Seemed to want her to, though he looked torn, the way his eyes were fastened on their joined hands, the way his fingers tightened and moved with her.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, a breathless noise leaving him. He slid his palm down her hand until his warm fingertips were just brushing her moist flesh. "Stop." Eyes flitting from their hands to her eyes, he opened his mouth, but her body's reaction to his touch quieted him.
Her hips bucked toward him. When he made no other move, said nothing more, she pulled her hand from her folds and held it, palm up, near his lips. "Taste?" Leaning closer, she tsked and whispered, "Are you having impure thoughts? Have you sinned as well?"
Holding her hand steady, eyeing the gloved fingers that'd just been inside of her, he licked his lips again, darting his eyes to hers for a moment. "I've had impure thoughts since the night I met you."
Stunned at his confession, she could only sit and watch as he tilted his head to the side, regarding her fingers briefly before sliding them all the way into his mouth. When he slid them out and back in again, he fastened his gaze on hers, making a small noise in the back of his throat. His eyes began to shut, but he snapped them open again, pulling her fingers from his mouth with a mimicking tsking sound. "You're temptation in the flesh, Rose Tyler."
"I," she breathed, feeling her stomach muscles flutter, but he was already talking again. Chastising her.
"You make me want to do all sorts of naughty things." Eyes dipping to her bare legs, fingers following his gaze, he added. "Filthy things. Things I shouldn't want to do."
The last line was whispered in a harsh tone, with so much feeling behind it that she almost dropped the act, but one hand threaded into her hair while the other lightly touched her aching flesh and she was lost to him. He kissed her fiercely, desperately, taking her breath from her and leaving her gasping for more.
Her back arched at his touch, body delighting in the familiar feel of his fingers on her. In her. Anticipation poured through her body, sending her into a frenetic desire to have him, to have him now. Right here, in this dusty old church.
She started to lie back, not caring that someone could come to see why there were lights in here. Not caring that she was about to spread herself for the Doctor in a church, with him in a priest's frock, and her feeling like a naughty... filthy temptress. Oh, no. None of that held her back.
It just made her want him even more.
Halting herself halfway down, bracing her arms behind her, she pulled her skirts up to her waist. "Perhaps you should do them. Isn't that why we're here?"
Hands leaving her, he crawled forward, bracing himself over her body to kiss her once again, hard and demanding. Forceful. She loved when he got like this.
Grabbing the hair on the back of his head, she opened her mouth and swept her tongue along his, sucking on it, drawing it into her mouth. They fought for control, a game on her end, a need on his. He liked to be in control, and she wasn't surprised.
He pulled back, hand threaded in her hair, pressing his lips to hers again and again as if he couldn't bring himself to stop. "That's not why we're here." Grabbing her arms, he pulled her up, drawing her to her knees. Climbing to his feet, he looked down at her. "This is."
His hands lifted to his trousers, and she saw a glint of silver. Heard the sound of a belt buckle.
A sound she knew only from their first time, since he didn't normally wear belts, but one that was ingrained in her mind. Burned in there so deeply, she didn't think she'd ever forget the jingle of it. Or the feel of it against the flesh of her hip.
She hadn't even felt it at the time, but she had a small scar from the last time, when he got a bit rough. Uncontrolled.
"Oh, goody," she breathed. Muscles clenching, she brushed his hands aside, undoing the zip herself, lowering it tooth-by-tooth, feeling his straining cock trying to burst free. Moving forward, she licked the bit of flesh she could see between his spread trousers, then mouthed it. Her hot, moist breath ghosted over him and he twitched in response. Shuffling closer, he caught and held his breath, letting it out in a rush as she wrapped her gloved fingers tightly around him, pulling him free.
Groaning, he settled his hands in her hair, holding her lightly, but she could feel the need in him, the urge to thrust into her hand and mouth.
Into her body. He always fucked her so hard. Like he couldn't possibly get enough, so he tried harder and harder each time, never quite seeming to achieve what he needed.
It sent a throb of desire through her that she knew wouldn't be satisfied until he took her that hard and that fast here.
Fighting back a moan, she licked her lips, leaning closer to his cock, pulling the foreskin back to place a kiss on the hard tip before licking it. "Is this wrong?" she mused, watching him struggle for control. "Is it a sin for me to want to taste you? To want you so much that I ache and want to touch myself?"
Hips bucking, he grabbed her hair tighter, threading his fingers through the loose strands to cup the back of her head, urging her forward. Urging her to suck on him, squeeze him, stroke him tight. "It's very... very wrong," he bit out through clenched teeth, breathing loudly through his nose, only just barely holding himself in check.
She could see, there in the warm glow of the candlelight, his need to be in her mouth. He gritted his teeth, digging his fingers into her skull, and she obeyed because she wanted him there as well. Opening her mouth, she slid him all the way in, smooth skin and hard flesh slipping past her lips, mingling into the perfect taste and sensation.
Though this was about the Doctor and what he wanted, she got just as much pleasure from it. When he wanted her mouth, she wanted to give it to him.
Never had she been able to deny him. Well, a few times, perhaps, but only for what she believed was right for the universe. Not for something that would please them both.
Swirling her tongue around him, she slid him out, and then quickly back in again, swallowing his length as deeply as she could without gagging.
The feel of him was fantastic. Like the silk that encased her hands and arms. She closed her eyes, hollowing her cheeks, moving quickly, twisting her head a little on each downward slide. Tasting him like she'd been wanting to all evening.
He particularly liked it when she squeezed him tight, and played with his balls. Pulling him free of her lips, she tightened her hand on his cock, stroking a few times, watching his face contort in pleasure, his mouth tighten, baring his teeth as he fought for control.
She wanted him to lose that control.
Pre-come seeped from the tip and she licked it greedily, feeling sinful.
Eyes on his cock, she felt a tug of desire in her stomach at the sight of her green glove enveloping his base. An erotic thrill went through her, making her feel wanton and abandoned. Glancing up, she pressed his cock to his stomach, licking the underside before sliding her other hand to his balls. She squeezed and rubbed him with the heel of her hand, leaning forward to lick teasingly, again and again. "Can I touch myself? Or, is that wrong as well?"
"Oh, god. Please do." He was panting as he spoke, each word pushed out through gritted teeth. Grabbing the stone altar with one hand, he released her hair, and she missed the feel of him holding her tight.
Slipping him from her mouth again, she began stroking him with her hand, wondering if it felt as strange and wonderful as it had for her. "Does have a bit of a sinful feel to it," she admitted, watching his hips jerk and buck, feeling the strength it took for him to hold himself back.
She wished he'd just give in and let go.
Licking the tip of his cock, she stroked a little faster, twisting her hand, flicking her tongue against the exposed flesh with every downward stroke. Dropping her free hand to her skirts, she bunched them up and spread her legs. Her eyes stayed on his while she sucked and licked and tasted him, and he stared right back, eyes focused on her mouth as she tortured him with it. Wetting her lips, she slipped him in, sucking hard at the same time as she pressed a finger to her clit.
His cock surged forward when she slipped a finger into her throbbing folds.
"Rose, I'm... I'm-- God," he cried out, losing what little control he'd had, threading his fingers in her hair and thrusting into her mouth with a carefully controlled, slightly wild movement.
Satisfaction surged in her. She pulled him free, swirling her tongue around the hard flesh while moving her finger around her own folds, teasing herself at the same time. "That's not reaching a bit high, is it? Not content to just be Jesus anymore?"
Eyes half closed, he watched her work, watched her stroke faster and then slower, watched as she twisted her wrist with each downward stroke, smoothing her thumb over the tip on each upward one. Watched as she slipped a finger inside her throbbing flesh, circling her clit before rubbing it with fumbling fingers. "D'you have any idea just how hard I wanna fuck you?" he asked, voice low and husky.
A shudder went through her and her inner muscles clenched on her finger. She slid another in, gasping at the pleasure soaring through her. "Think I do, yeah." Probably just as much as she wanted to fuck him. Couldn't possibly be more than that. Could it?
Groaning deeply, he tightened his hand in her hair.
She didn't stop stroking him, didn't stop licking and sucking, eagerly downing him like a favorite-flavored lolly. Didn't demand he take her, didn't jump his bones, as she wanted to. Instead, she continued to slide him into her wet mouth, stroking him with her tongue, stroking herself with her finger.
What she wanted to do was swallow him whole. Make him feel even half as good as he made her feel. Did he have the slightest idea of what he did to her? Know how he affected her with just a look or a touch?
She didn't think he did, didn't think he was aware of his power over her.
That there wouldn't ever come a time when she'd leave him, because she couldn't. She was his in every way, he just didn't know it yet.
Sucking harder, swirling her tongue around him, she tried to show him how she felt, tried to make him feel it, and from the way his eyes stayed fixed on hers, she thought maybe he did.
His hand loosened from her hair, sliding to her cheek to caress it.
She'd never be sure until she got up the nerve to tell him, but that wasn't going to happen in the middle of a blowjob.
Fingers squeezing his balls, she shifted closer, moving on him more quickly, feeling his body tautening. He was close to coming, and she badly wanted him to. Watching the Doctor lose control during sex was one of her favorite things. When he went wild and bucked his hips against hers, the physical feel of it was secondary to how much he lost control when with her.
She, Rose Tyler, affected the Doctor that way.
It was her body he roughly slammed into, seeking release. Her folds he licked and sucked at with abandon. Her mouth he was trying desperately not to thrust into right now.
Sucking his cock harder, she moved quicker still, taking him as deeply as she dared, stilling her hand in her folds, focusing on his pleasure, his needs.
Short grunts and groans escaped his lips as his hips began to rock forward, forcing himself deeper into her mouth. The tip touched the back of her throat a few times and she had to fight the instinct to gag, all while delighting in his taste, in the fact that she could touch the Doctor like this, show him how she felt through physical intimacy if not words.
Cupping his balls, she rubbed them, continuing to suck him off. His mouth fell open, gasping pants leaving his parted lips as she stroked her gloved hand down around to his arse and squeezed.
"Rose," he groaned, thrusting a bit, unable to stop. She could see the lack of control on his face and in the furrow between his brows. "Wanna come-- wanna..." exhaling sharply, he shoved his fingers through the ruins of her hair, pulling his cock out a bit.
Popping him out of her mouth, she wiped her bottom lip with her thumb and shifted her knees on the scratchy rug beneath her, continuing to stroke him. "I want you to come, Doctor." Squeezing his balls, she watched as he struggled with what he wanted, what he needed. Struggled not to leave her unsatisfied. But, he didn't realize that she didn't care, that seeing him like this was enough for her, being the cause of it even more so.
And she had fingers.
"Come," she pleaded.
He tightened his hands on her head, tilting her face back so he could see her better. "I want--" closing his mouth, he thinned his lips and shook his head.
"Doctor." She stroked faster, making sure he was closing in on his orgasm, making sure he wasn't going to pull away from her and put a stop to it because he either didn't want to come in her mouth or didn't want to leave her unsatisfied.
Perhaps she should give him a show again... make him lose control.
Sliding her hand down between her legs, she made sure he was looking, made sure he watched as she tossed her skirts out of the way and slid her finger back where she needed it most. "Unh," she gasped in surprise, hips jerking uncontrollably as pleasure began to flood through her, ratcheting up notch by notch. "Come, Doctor." Sliding him back into her mouth, she swirled her tongue and squeezed his balls, stroking herself for him to see, doing everything she could to make him lose that tight rein of power he so rarely relinquished.
"I'm-- I want..." his hands fisted in her hair and she felt his body tautening, coiling tighter and tighter. His balls drew up, and she knew he was close, knew he was about to come whether he wanted to or not.
Keeping him in her mouth, she slowly bobbed on him, gliding both hands down between her thighs, bunching her skirts up further. Almost as soon as she slid a finger deep within her folds, the Doctor began to buck into her mouth. His hips shot forward and she was afraid he'd get too rough. But he grabbed his cock, wrapping his hand around it as he pulled from her mouth.
Disappointment washed over her, but he didn't pull away completely as she'd expected. Instead, he stroked himself quickly and grabbed the back of her head, moving her closer, tipping her head back. She had a moment to think that she'd misunderstood his reservations about coming before his warm seed spurted on her chin and mouth, her cheek and jaw. She licked her lips, tasting him completely for the first time.
There wasn't much difference between Time Lord and human, but underneath, there was a taste, a flavor she couldn't identify. Something almost metallic, but so mild that it didn't bother her, just made her want more.
Opening her eyes, she gazed up at the Doctor, who was watching her, looking satisfied and a little embarrassed.
"Sorry," he began, but she reached up, using her thumb to wipe a bit of the warm liquid from her cheek.
Slipping her thumb between her lips, she sucked on it, liking his flavor more and more as she got a better taste of it. It didn't bother her at all that he'd wanted to do such a human thing... was it human though? Maybe all species got that urge, that need to claim their lover by marking them. Sliding her thumb free, she raised her eyes back to his. "I don't mind."
He swallowed when she did, looking hungrily from her come-covered face to her hand between her legs. "Bit barbaric," he muttered, standing with his hand still wrapped around his cock, which had softened considerably. Dropping his hands to his side, he adjusted his trousers, then zipped them up, clearing his throat and dropping to one knee. "Let me--"
She shook her head, settling back on the rug and raising her dress higher, giving him an unimpeded view. "I've got it. Just... watch. You said you wanted to watch, yeah?"
He nodded, watching as he straightened up and pulled something free of his pocket. A handkerchief. Wiping her face clean with a sheepish grin, he licked his lips, and she knew that he was still turned on, still aroused, even after having come.
It only made her more aroused. Gliding one hand over her breast, feeling the hardened nipples poking at the material of her dress, she slid a gloved finger into her warm folds.
But, the Doctor wasn't content to just watch, not for more than a few seconds anyway. Before she knew it, he was crawling over her, breathing heavily. Pressing his lips to hers in a slow, sensuous kiss that made her blood boil and her muscles turn to goo, he ran a hand over her thigh. Pulling back mere inches, he rested his forehead against hers, their warm skin meeting, fueling that fire. His closeness alone was singeing her. "Don't wanna just watch," he muttered, moving to her side. "Always been more of a team player."
He brushed her hand to the side, and she sucked in a breath, waiting to see what he'd do next.
His hand replaced hers, long fingers sliding into her sopping channel, stroking her languidly. Her hips bucked at the contact, eyes closing as his breath ghosted over her lips.
"Team player," she mused. "Sure you are. Until they do something you don't like. Then you tell 'em to bugger off." Rocking her hips forward just a little, she chuckled, but quickly lost any further breath to do so when his fingers thrust hard inside her.
He snapped his head up, looking offended. "I'd never tell anyone to bugger off. I don't use that sort of language."
Breathing through her nose made it a little easier to draw in air when he began rubbing her clit with his thumb. "Right. So, that wasn't you earlier, saying you wanted to fuck me hard?"
Eyes rising to hers, he peered at her in that way that made her feel obtuse. "That was different."
"Yeah," she said with a grin, "fuck is much worse than bugger."
His fingers stilled, and she sighed in disappointment. Lips pressing to hers, he moved down her body. She closed her eyes, laying back as he positioned himself over her. A moment later, she jumped when she felt his mouth between her legs. Several vocal responses escaped her lips, but none of them were recognizable, much less actual words.
Lifting his head, he grinned at her. "Not only a team player, but plays well with others," he stated, then went back to driving her mental with his mouth, lips, and tongue. "Energetic," he mumbled. "Shows initiative."
Groaning, both at his words and his actions, she dropped her head back. "Good with his hands," she nearly screamed when a finger slid inside her and his tongue curled around her clit.
"Great verbal skills," he boasted, then slid his tongue in along with his finger.
"People person," she moaned, driving her hips up to get more of his tongue. The way his fingers thrust into her, his mouth working her folds, she might've thought he was just as aroused as she was, but he couldn't be. Could he? He'd just come, and though he had a quicker recovery than most human males, it'd never been this quick. Peering down the length of her body, she tried to see if he was hard, but the lighting was too dim to give her any details on the shadowed, black cloth between his legs.
She whimpered, imagining--remembering--the feel of his hard cock thrusting between her folds. Body clenching on his fingers, she closed her eyes, feeling the phantom thrusts, letting her body spur her on to higher and higher depths of arousal. Her hips repeatedly rose to meet his mouth and hand, fingers, and tongue. Hands clenching in the thick, green material of her gown, she moved desperately, seeking relief from his assault on her senses.
But it just kept coming; more and more, harder and faster, until she was pushing out nonsense sounds with every exhale, arching off the dirty floor to meet his every thrusting finger and teasing tongue-play.
His free hand settled on her stomach, pressing firmly, keeping her partially tethered to the church, the Earth, to him.
"Come, Rose," he groaned, and she snapped her eyes open in time to see him rub himself quickly before resuming his torture on her.
Moaning loudly, wanting more than his fingers and mouth, wanting his hard cock thrusting roughly, uncontrollably into her, she pushed herself up on her elbows, heated eyes fastening on his. "Fuck me, Doctor." Her voice was insistent, demanding, but he didn't jump to do her bidding, and she wasn't surprised.
Eyes on hers, he settled his mouth between her legs, licking her quickly, almost frantically. His mouth glistened in the candlelight, covered in her moisture, and she felt a surge of... not quite power, but not quite not-power.
Possessiveness, she thoughts, that's what it was.
It shot through her at the blatant marking of his face, and she understood a little better why he'd wanted to come on her. Not just on her, though, but on her face. Muscles clenching tightly around his fingers, she looked into his warm, brown eyes and felt that possessiveness reflected right back at her. She let herself fall, coming hard, feeling anything but relaxed as her hips jerked uncontrollably up, higher and higher, inner muscles frantically grasping at his surging fingers, pulling them deeper and deeper.
His name left her lips as pleasure rocked her in wave after wave, drowning her, pulling her down, back to Earth.
One by one, she unclenched her fingers from her gown, opened her eyes to stare at the dirty, water-stained ceiling illuminated by the flickering candlelight.
The Doctor's hand rubbed lightly at her stomach while his tongue... lapped at her folds. There was no other way to describe it; he was like a cat with a bowl of cream, sliding in, seeking out hidden riches of her taste, her flavor. Eyes half-closed, she watched him with a languorous satisfaction. His mouth worked almost feverishly on her, and when she saw his other hand rubbing at his cock again, she knew why he was so enthusiastically feasting on her.
Too tired and spent to move, she relaxed into the dirty rug. "Doctor."
He looked up, almost like he was startled that she was there. Eyes heated, desperate, he stared at her.
"Fuck me," she breathed, and this time, he did as she'd said.
He rose up, mouth, jaw, and cheeks covered in her glistening moisture, and freed himself, wasting no time in shoving his cock into her still-throbbing folds. Once seated fully in her, he began thrusting immediately, setting up a pace that left her gasping, clutching onto the threadbare carpet beneath her. He drove into her hard, pounding his cock deep within, sending her back a ways with each and every thrust.
Nails scraping against the thin rug, she drew her legs up, flattening her feet on the floor for better purchase, so she could thrust her hips up to meet him. She was still sensitive, but pleasure and heat were beginning to build in her again, burning her. Raising her hands to her breasts, she pinched her nipples, clumsily rubbing them.
It was coming again, harder than before, quicker.
For him too, it seemed, because he suddenly grabbed her legs and shoved them against her chest, rocking forward, cock sliding more deeply into her at the change in angle. She desperately grabbed at the rug as dizziness swept through her, pleasure washing it away.
Grunting with every thrust, slamming hard into her folds, balls slapping against her arse, he lifted her legs even higher, shifting angles again as he hooked her ankles over his shoulders, spreading her wider for him. The fierce desperation in his eyes, on his face, the frantic pace with which he was fucking her, coupled with the knowledge that it was her affecting him this way--this much--made her body, burning and searing her from the inside out, clench down on him, bursting the coil of pleasure and making her scream as she came again.
The Doctor continued to thrust, to hold her bare legs, using them as leverage to slam his body deep into hers.
She was helpless to do anything but ride out her pleasure, watching him pant and grunt, becoming animalistic in his frenzied need. Teeth bared, he reared up into her over and over again. She lifted her hips to meet his every thrust, delighting in the thick, rich feel of him stroking her swollen, sated folds.
He continued to pound his body into hers, looking frustrated and frantic.
"Come," she whispered, encouraging him, pleading with him. Though her legs were beginning to feel the strain, it was his desperation that drove her need for him to come. She slid her hands to her breasts, watching his dark eyes follow her fingers as they skimmed lightly over the swell of flesh above the neckline of her gown. Hooking her fingers into the fabric, she shoved it down as far as it would go, which wasn't much, but seemed to be enough to expose just a bit of her nipples, and to make the Doctor speed up his thrusts.
It wasn't just grunts that burst from his lips now, it was cries of frustration and need. He was becoming desperate.
Not knowing what else she could do to help him, she lifted her hips, riding him from below, tightening her muscles on him and palming her breasts, pressing the swell of flesh above the décolletage. His rapt gaze fixed on the mounds, jiggling with each thrust, hands sliding down to grasp her thighs, nails digging into her soft flesh.
Then, sudden as a shot, he dove down toward her, bracing his hands on the floor on either side of her head and began to drive hard and deep, hissing a breath out between gritted teeth.
She was folded nearly in half, and her legs began to ache, but she said nothing. She wanted him to come, needed for him to come.
Eyes on hers, he watched, rocking his hips against her, filling her so fully, not just in body, but in her heart, and her life too.
She didn't know what she'd do if she lost him, if her everyday life didn't include him in some respect. A hand to hold was only the beginning. He was her lover, her best mate, the one who comforted her during the bad times, and the one she comforted in return. Their lives were so full, so thrilling, and scary, and sometimes, heartbreaking.
But not perfect. Never perfect. She wouldn't want perfection, not even with him.
The rough times defined them. The day-to-day challenges, and the changes they made in people's lives across the universe and throughout all different time periods made them into the people they were today. The Doctor and Rose.
And she loved him.
Eyes filling with tears, she wrapped her hands around his thighs, wishing she could feel his skin, but her gloved hands prevented all but the sensation of pressure. He lowered himself, pressing his forehead against hers, and she suddenly found she couldn't hold the words back any longer and finally whispered her secret to him. "I love you."
His pace faltered and he stilled inside her, loosening his death grip on the floor for a moment. Then his hand rose to touch her face, to caress her cheek. "Rose."
Shaking her head, she blinked back the tears and smiled. "No," she chuckled, "I didn't mean to--" but he cut her off with a sharp shake of his own head and raised his hand from her cheek, clumsily settling his fingers over her mouth. She shifted beneath him and his eyes slid shut.
Before she could say anything, and with him looking like he was holding back saying something, he slid almost all the way out and then slowly back in again sending chills of pleasure through her, though she knew there was no way she was going to come again. His fingers, warmed by her breath, slid from her lips, and were replaced by his mouth as he continued his new, slower pace.
Forehead resting against hers, breath mingling with her own, he thrust again, and then again, gaining a little speed, but keeping it slower than before.
"I-- I love you," he breathed, voice barely audible.
Staring at him, shocked at the admission, she smiled and slid a hand around his neck, bringing him down for a clumsy kiss.
He pushed himself inside her and stilled, hips bucking against hers, head thrown back as he seated himself fully inside her. His cock spasmed, spurting his seed into her in pulsing waves. Her body clenched around him, making him groan and press his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily, awkwardly. Their teeth bumped, and he bit her lip, but she didn't mind at all.
She grinned at him when he pulled back and slipped himself free, leaving her feeling empty as the cooler air hit her. He carefully lowered her legs and lay beside her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. He didn't say anything, but she felt his lips moving against her neck.
Smoothing her hand down his back and his hair, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the comfort of the man who loved her.