A/N: I really don't know why I wrote this. I guess I just wanted an excuse to write some sexytimes between Quatre and Lista, and it seemed as good a time as any to choose what would be their second time. So yeah, in conclusion: I suck. XD Enjoy!
Quatre could not have been more pleased to take that final step to his front door. He settled his briefcase at his doorstep as he fumbled into his coat pocket for his key. All he wanted to do at that point was change into attire far comfortable than the strangling tightness of his suit and prop his feet up with a cup of tea.
And, perhaps, cuddle with Lista. That was always a thought he looked forward to, given the assumption she was still awake at such a late hour.
As he slid the key into the lock and turned, listening to the resounding click in the middle of night's silence, he wished his days would not end so late, only to begin at the break of dawn the following morning. It left little time for him to enjoy the company of his friends, of Lista. He longed for such moments, but the defeat of Mariemaia Khushrenada's forces less than a month earlier left much work to be done on his end. His company was fronting the terraforming project, as well as aiding with the restoration of damages done by her forces.
There was no rest for the wicked, or for a major company's young heir.
Cracking the front door open just slightly, he slid his key back into his pocket and retrieved the briefcase next to his feet. He walked inside the barely-lit foyer and shut the door quietly, not wishing to wake anyone that may be sleeping already. Midnight was closing in on him like a storm cloud; perhaps he would skip his tea and head straight for bed.
As he rested his briefcase next to the firmly locked door, he turned around and prepared to slide his jacket from his shoulders. However, as he spun on his heel to face the stairway leading to the second floor, thin arms bombarded him, fingers quickly tangling into the ends of his curled blonde hair.
The breath was all but punched out of his lungs as he stumbled against the door, the wall of a body sandwiching him against the hard doorknob. He winced and blinked several times in the darkness, trying to gather his surroundings and surmise what, or who, had suddenly attacked him.
He caught a flash of raven hair curtaining over bare shoulders, and behind darkened lashes, green eyes stared back at him. "Welcome back," a female voice whispered to him, near to a seductive purr.
Quatre felt his cheeks rise in a blush, and he swallowed the ball in his throat. "L-Lista? What are you doing up?" That really wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but he feared the reply; he thought it may be best to leave that question unanswered.
"I've been waiting for you to get back," Lista replied with a pout. "I missed you. I thought you were going to be back home a lot earlier than what you were. I sent everyone to bed so we could be alone when you got here."
"Alone?" Quatre shook the tremble from his hands as they moved to wrap around her waist. When his palms reached her, he found a very flimsy fabric swimming over her hips. With slightly furrowed brows, his eyes traveled down, scoping quickly over her body before she could notice.
She was wearing a towel. Only a towel.
"Lista!" Quatre exclaimed, jerking back to look at her with a frown. "What are you doing walking around like that? What if someone sees you?"
The nonchalant shrug of her shoulders could have aggravated him, but he didn't seem to care when she pressed her body against his, her fingers splaying under the collar of his jacket. "No one is going to see me," she said. "Everyone's asleep. I wouldn't just walk around like this otherwise. That's an invasion of my privacy. I saw your car pull in, so I rushed down to see you. I just missed you."
Quatre's face fell. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards the stairway, leaving his briefcase long forgotten at the doorway. "I'm sorry. Let's go upstairs. You should get dressed before you catch a chill."
Lista flashed him a smile—or what looked more like a wily smirk to his eyes—and strolled up the staircase to the second floor, heading to the end of the hallway towards Quatre's master bedroom. He opened the door for her, allowing her to walk in. That was a mistake. Her hips swung from side to side with every long stride she took. Her towel was hugging her curves tight like a fist.
That was two strikes against him. He truly felt like a teenager—he knew he was only sixteen, but by Allah, the thumping ache in the center of his body only seemed to intensify, especially when she turned over her shoulder, smiling at him.
And then she swiftly gave him the third strike when she dragged her tongue over her pink lips. She had to be seeking out his torment. He felt like counting on his fingers as he inwardly listed off the small yet very definitive physical attributes she was displaying that seemed to make him hungry in a way that he seldom experienced.
Dutiful teal eyes followed the raven-haired girl across the room as she walked to her dresser and began sorting through for suitable bed attire. She hummed a little tune to herself as she pulled out a red article of satin that Quatre could only deem scandalous.
He watched her shut the drawer and stroll back over to him as he stood as a statue, unblinking and breathing barely heard. A gentle hand trailed up the line of his arm. "Are you okay?" Lista asked, tilting her head to the side. "You look lost in thought somewhere."
Quatre exhaled and cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Sorry. I'm fine. I'm just going to change out here while you use the bathroom." But he didn't move. Neither did she. They stared at one another for endless moments of silence, except for the feral call deep within their minds, begging to be heard.
"You don't want to change," Lista whispered, her fingers closing around his shirt. "Do you?"
Eyes weighing down, Quatre swallowed and gave a brisk shake of his head. "No," he croaked. Memories flashed through his mind, memories of the eve of Mariemaia's defeat. It held a special place in his heart for two reasons: one, he and his friends had survived to take advantage of the life given to them, and two, he and Lista had both surrendered to an awakened desire in a night of passion that he didn't think could be wrenched from his memory if someone dug into his brain and attempted themselves.
As he stared upon her, his breathing becoming labored and uneven, he remembered the expressions on her face, the sounds that escaped her mouth, the gentle touches, the kisses, the slender arch of her neck as she came for the first time under his inexperienced influence. He almost wanted to curse his sense of infallible memory, all the while praising himself for remembering such a defining and insatiable moment.
But in the month that had passed since then, there had been no other time like that. Sure, they traveled down a more sensual road, but never again had their paths crossed in such a manner. But perhaps his disappointment in that area was about to be remedied as Lista shrugged her choice of nightwear from her shoulder, the dull glimmer in her eyes telling him that it was no longer needed.
Hands slid over Quatre's cheeks, gingerly framing his face as she pulled him into her, a hot sigh of breath beating against his lips, dewing them over, before her mouth claimed him in a gentle, curious kiss.
Quatre breathed against her kiss, wrapping his hands around her bare back, barely covered by her loosening towel. He took slow steps towards her, urging her towards the inviting bed in the corner. The back of her knees brushed up against it, cuing her hands to journey from his face to the jacket still blanketing his shoulders. Her fingers slid under his collar and shrugged it off of him, then moved right to the buttons hugging his dress shirt to his chest.
Lista's mouth moved away from his, raining short kisses along his jaw as her fingers made short work of his shirt buttons. She listened to the ragged sigh escaping his parted, kiss-bruised lips while her hands pushed his shirt away from him, allowing it to fall to the ground along with his jacket.
The former pilot of Sandrock nipped his lips against the corner of her mouth before easing her gently onto his bed, watching her damp ebony hair fan out under her, some strands stubbornly deciding to stick to her neck. He hovered over her, still on his knees, and looked upon the healthy cherry flush sprinkling her cheeks. His fingers skittered across the side of her neck, flicking away the strands of hair and sending tickling trembles down her arms and to the very tips of her fingers.
Lista watched him intently as he knelt over her, unmoving, his breathing heavy and taking off without him. "Are you okay?" she asked, her hand reaching for his. "You look lost again."
A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. "No, not lost. I'm just… thinking."
Lista mirrored his expression. She had to wonder how he could be thinking when she was lying under him in only a towel, unquenchable lust radiating off of her body like rays of light from the sun. She pressed a palm against the base of her neck. "Thinking about what exactly?"
"About our first time," he admitted. He watched her smile fade just slightly, her stare intensifying in curiosity. He bent over her, stroking his knuckles against her cheek. "I was thinking about what it was like for you. I'm just hoping that I can make it better for you this time."
Lista took her bottom lip into her mouth. "Better for me? You make it sound like it was a terrible experience." Her eyes lowered coyly. "I'd say it was quite the opposite."
Quatre couldn't help the blush splashing over his face. He could remember her moans of his name, the way her fingers dug into his shoulders as she reached her peak. No, it wasn't terrible for either one of them. "You had some discomfort," he reiterated. "I'd like to avoid that now."
"That's sweet," Lista said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him down upon her like a blanket. She grazed her lips against his ear, the underside of his jaw. "I would go through all of that again just to feel this with you."
The muscles in Quatre's throat constricted with another hard swallow. His mind was running rampant again. Instead of answering her with words, his mouth caressed hers softly, carefully, before slowly deepening into something more passionate, more sinful. While he distracted her with his kiss, his hands made work of his belt buckle, fingers trembling with nervousness, with desire, as he undid his belt and zipper, loosening the constraints over the tight ache between his legs.
His hands slid his slacks and boxers down his hips, past his knees and ankles, and kicked them away from his body until the only thing preventing skin from touching skin was Lista's towel. Quatre reached for her, his fingers hungry for her skin, eager as a driven teenager to pull the soft cotton away from her body so he could feast his eyes on her, much like he'd done the first time she lay exposed underneath him.
His eyes snapped open and his mouth jerked from hers when he felt nimble fingers graze against the hardness of his erection. A harsh gasp escaped his lips as he watched Lista push herself up with one hand while the other experimented in touching the most sensitive, the most responsive part of his body.
The tides changed, much like they did under the influence of a ravaging storm, as Lista eased Quatre to sit on his knees, a hand gripping her shoulder for stability as her fingers trailed up and down the length of him.
The towel fell away from her body as she moved forward, nipping gentle kisses along the line of his jaw while her fingers slid up and down his erection, rousing short gasps from the Sandrock pilot's lungs. She couldn't help but smile at him, her hand closing around him firmly and beginning slow, agonizing motions up and down.
His fingers clenched her shoulder as her palm worked over him, her lips capturing his again. Her tongue slid slowly into his mouth, teasingly wrapping with his, playing against the smooth surface of his teeth. He groaned against her as her hand quickened its pace over him, wishing to bring about his undoing.
Quatre released a whimper against her, breaking off their kiss as his fingers unhitched from her shoulder and moved around her neck, pulling her closer still until he rested his forehead against the welcoming crook under her jaw. He lost all mobility in his limbs as she stroked him, palm clenching over him like a glove.
"Does that… Does that feel good?" Lista whispered, swallowing past the dryness in her throat as he continued to use her as a wall.
He nodded against her. "Yes," he rasped, his breath leaving a spot of hot dew on her shoulder.
She smiled and pressed her lips against his temple. "Then I won't stop." She held him close against her while her hand pumped him, feeling the tremble that shook his body like an unrelenting quake. He released a strangling cry, the feel of her silky palm encasing him too good to be true, too good to be real. But when he fought his eyes open and finally lifted his forehead from her shoulder, looking straight into her eyes, he saw that the heat swirling around him could not have been more real.
Quatre felt his control slipping with every passing second. He felt a single bead of sweat roll down the side of his face, and before it could fall from his chin, Lista leaned forward, closing her lips around it, fully enjoying the salty taste against his flushed skin.
One hand moved back to her shoulder, fingers digging into the former crescents he'd left earlier, while his other hand closed over hers, causing her to snap her head towards his in hazed curiosity. With eyes connected, they both stroked him towards the edge of hellish ecstasy, his pants short and hard as he stumbled with the two syllables of her name.
"Let go," she urged, her voice husky as sandpaper. "Let go for me, sweetheart." She felt his hand tighten over hers, speeding up the last strokes she left over his straining erection.
And in the seconds following, Quatre threw his head back, releasing a long grunt through his teeth, and his climax shattered over him, his release spurting over Lista's hand, over his bed sheets. He closed his eyes and collapsed against her body, reveling in the feel of her body pressing against his as she pulled him closer still, humming contently in his ear.
"You all right?" she asked, grazing her lips against his cheek, his temple. She couldn't help but smile at his hesitation, as he heaved for much-needed air. "I think you needed that, sweetie." She slid her fingers into his hair, her other hand tracing a back and forth path over the expanse of his arm.
Quatre said nothing. Instead, he finally summoned the strength to lift his head from her shoulder, and before she could say anything else, he leaned towards her, pressing a kiss against her lips. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, even as he eased her back on the mattress, draping himself over her.
Trembling fingers traced against the hard line of her jaw, gingerly moving down the smooth dip of her throat, the slick grove between her breasts, the tense muscles of her abdomen. She whimpered against his mouth, even as his fingers continued further still, circling once, twice, around her bellybutton, before dipping between her legs, finding the sweet, hot wetness waiting for him there.
Lista jerked away in a gasp as his fingers hesitantly teased against the smooth, sensitive flesh that burned, begged to be touched. His eyes found hers again, swallowing hard, before rubbing a finger slowly inside her.
Her hips bucked against his hand, her legs splaying further apart until she had the arch of her feet planted firmly against the mattress. Her fingers curled into the sheets as his finger moved slowly, cautiously inside the welcoming hot cavern in the center of her body. She sucked in her lower lip, biting back a moan, as his obviously nervous and inexperienced hand played against her.
But it still felt sinfully good. She could scarcely imagine his fingers against her after he'd gained the knowledge of her body.
"You're so beautiful," Quatre mumbled as he leaned down to her face, finding her mouth again. He was drowning in sin, in pleasure, by the mere heat emanating from her body. He was growing hard again as he felt Lista squirm under him, hungry for his deepened touch, his mouth, his taste. Drunk on avarice, she wanted everything he could give her.
"Please," she groaned, releasing a heavy exhale when she pulled away from his kiss. Quatre gazed upon her, a seemingly drunken glimmer in his eyes. He quickly removed his finger from her body, his own chest rising as it filled with a fresh breath of air. Her eyes snapped to his, and against her closed mouth, she whimpered.
"What? What is it?" Quatre asked in a hushed whisper. A palm framed her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth sheen of sweat now coating her heated skin.
Lista bit down on her bottom lip and moved her eyes from his, suddenly embarrassed to admit what exactly she was feeling, how badly she wanted to feel him, all of him, inside her. She curled her toes in anticipation and closed her eyes. Her confidence fled from her, she covered her face with her arm.
Concerned, Quatre leaned down, his body brushing up against hers. "Lista, tell me. Did I… Did I hurt you?"
Snapping her arm away from her face, Lista shook her head. "No! No, you didn't hurt me," she answered. "It just… umm, it feels good." Her cheeks glowed red against the dew of sweat. "I like when you touch me."
Eyes widened by her confession, he felt his erection stand to a full attention. Staring down upon her, she seemed just as innocent as he was, as innocent and pure as he felt as he lay naked above her, the afterglow of his climax still warm in his belly. He wanted her to feel that, wanted to bestow such rapture on her as she did with just the simple stroke of her hand. The thought made him shudder.
Quatre's lips parted, releasing a small exhale, before his hand moved down the curve of her body. "I'd like you to tell me what you wish for me to do, then," he croaked as a fresh nervous blush overtook his pale cheeks once more.
The ball of her throat contracted as she swallowed. Words stumbled on her tongue, figuring out how she could tell him exactly what she wanted him to do without making her seem like a whore. Not that Quatre would ever think that about her, of course, but the mere prospect bothered her. "I… I want…" And in a breathless whisper, the words tumbled from her lips. "I want you to make love to me, Quatre. Please. I can't wait anymore."
Quatre's lips spread into a smile, and he nodded in understanding. A wave of confidence washed over him like an ocean's wave, and he blanketed her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. She moaned against him as he positioned himself over her, his body settling in between her legs. He took hold of his aching manhood, the feel of her touch still fresh against his skin, and he pressed himself against her entrance.
It was Quatre who pulled away from the mere feel of him touching her there, both of them whimpering in sync with one another. "I'll do everything I can to prevent hurting you this time," he promised breathlessly.
Lista smiled in gratitude. "You won't hurt me," she assured him. She brushed bangs from his eyes with the back of her hand. "You don't know how to."
Quatre had to appreciate her words on the matter, but knew she was just trying to calm his worry that she would experience discomfort again. He gave a brisk nod and pressed his palm gently against her stomach, moving forward until he slid inside her, encased by the wet, hot warmth of her body.
Lista sucked in a breath of air and arched her hips into his first thrust. There was no discomfort at all; it was as if he were always meant to be there, living deep inside her. She moaned and grabbed his arms as they steadied him above her, her bottom half wriggling as she accommodated to the pleasant intrusion.
"You okay?" he asked as soon as he pushed himself as far as he could go.
Lista nodded, biting back another moan as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His eyes bore into hers as she pulled him down upon her, her fingers curling over his tensed arms. "I'm okay. I don't want you to stop."
"I won't unless you tell me to," Quatre said. He brushed his lips teasingly against hers. "I'll go slow."
Lista opened her mouth to respond, but the feel of him pulling outward erased any words she had on her tongue. She didn't think there was a word in existence that could describe how it felt for her to have him waltzing inside her body, his eyes scoping over her in concern as he waited for the slightest indication of her discomfort.
But there was nothing but a quickly mounting pleasure that Quatre was insistent on bestowing upon her. She could see it in his eyes, the fresh flare of determination, of passion, of unspoken desire.
He set a slow, steady pace inside her, although he was certain his control would falter as her muscles clenched him, swallowing him into a pleasant hot and wet void. He had been very careful with her the first time, treating her like porcelain, because he knew she could experience pain. And to his dismay, she had. It hurt him to know he had to put her through even the slightest bit of discomfort.
But now, watching her writhe under him, she seemed to accommodate his intrusion rather well. Her hips were already meeting his in a candid dance, rolling up and pressing against his own pelvis as he connected their bodies as one. Just seeing her this way was enough to propel him into a star-filled world of ecstasy.
Only he would ever see this way, ever make her feel this way. It would always be his name on her lips as she cried out for more, whimpers and moans escaping her pink lips. That knowledge was comforting as much as it was overly arousing.
His name spilled from her lips like honey, sweet, thick and decadent, while her fingers made an ascent to his shoulders, her fingers curling into the skin there. Her nails threatened to break through, but Quatre could think of nothing better than to have her brand him that way. With every thrust, now moving just a step faster, a moan escaped her mouth, urging him faster, closer towards the edge of a world no one could possibly reach but them.
Quatre collapsed atop her, his strokes long and deep and unrelenting, so he could bestow sweet, hungry kisses against her lips, her cheeks, her jaw. Every graze of his lips left a burning sensation against the hot surface of her skin, every touch of his fingers against the dips and groves of her curves rousing choked gasps, every thrust awakening a feral beast deep within. She wanted more. He wanted more.
Lista's legs, wobbly and weak, dropped from his waist and back to the mattress, her arms falling not long after. She lay curling into his body, having nothing sufficient to hold on to until his fingers threaded through hers, grasping her hand tight.
"Oh god," she groaned, shaking her head from one side to the other. The flame in her belly flickered, threatening to burst to vicious life within the next several crucial moments as Quatre continued to bury himself deep inside her. "I… Quatre… I'm…"
Lashes lifted from his teal eyes, stinging with sweat, as he listened to the loud panting coming from his lover's mouth, watched her drag her tongue over her lips. Her inner muscles consumed him, pulsing and clenching maddeningly as her climax threatened to crash around her.
Seeing her that way, watching her eyes meet with his as she bit back a cry, threw him straight into a second blazing orgasm. He grunted, whispering her name on the heated air, and with another long stroke as deep as he could get, spilled himself inside her.
Lista felt his warmth spreading through her, and with a tired smile, watched him fight against his own exhaustion to give her the same gratifying end. The wet friction became too much for her, sent her off the mattress in a jerk, until her arm wrapped tight around his neck. She buried her face against his throat and screamed his name one final time before the fire inside her climbed and detonated to all parts of her body.
Quatre trembled against her, giving her two more thrusts before finally stopping, his limbs no longer able to answer his call. He fell against her, keeping still inside her as she calmed her erratic breath, her shaky fingers sliding through the back of his mussed golden locks. "Are you… Are you all right?" he asked, swallowing hard against the dryness of his throat.
She trailed her fingers from his hair to the curve of his back, her touch searing his hot skin. Her lips lifted, nipping against the underside of his chin. "I'm wonderful," she swooned, her mouth blooming into a smile.
Quatre rubbed his thumb against her cheek. "You're not hurt? No discomfort like last time?"
Lista shook her head. "No. None. It was better than last time," she admitted. She bit her bottom lip, smiling coyly. "You were better."
Quatre felt the heat rising up his throat, passing against his cheeks. "I'm relieved to hear that," he said. "I suppose that fear can be alleviated. I would rather not hold off on making love to you if it's going to cause you any kind of pain."
Lista's smile faded. "Is that why it took you so long to do it again? You were worried about hurting me?"
Scratching his cheek with his finger, Quatre rolled to his side, thus drawing slowly from her depths and pulling her deep into his chest. She lifted her head to gather his expression, waiting for his answer. "Well… I suppose you could say that. That, and I wasn't certain I would have the courage to bring the matter up. I wasn't sure whether you would wish to do it again anytime soon."
A brow arched over the dulled glow in her green eyes. "Did you think I would be experiencing discomfort a month after we made love the first time? I was only sore the day after, and it wasn't even that bad." Her eyes left his as she traced a finger in a circle against his chest. "Really, I was hoping we could do that often. I… I really enjoyed it. I enjoyed being with you that way."
Eyes wide, Quatre stared at her as a scarlet blush splashed against her cheeks, coloring her already flushed features. "Just how often were you hoping we would make love?" he asked. A frown played down the afterglow of their lovemaking. "You could have told me you wished me to make love to you, sweetheart. I would not have said no if you wanted it."
Lista sighed exasperatingly, her face buried against his chest in embarrassment. "It's just weird for me to admit something like that," she groaned, the feel of her hot breath, her moving lips as she spoke, tickling him.
"Even to me, the one you're experiencing it with?" Quatre prodded. "You don't have to hide your wishes from me, Lista. I will give you everything you wish. You just have to tell me."
"Would you tell me if you had a need like that?" Lista whispered, her eyes creeping up to gaze upon him. "Would you ask me to make love to you if you needed me that way?"
Quatre recoiled. "Well… I suppose if I had a great need for it, perhaps. But I would never put you in a position you had no wish to be in. I would never take advantage of you for my own purposes. I'd like it to be a mutual wish, for the both of us to gain something from it."
Lista stared incredulously at him for a moment before releasing a very feminine giggle into the air. "If you think for one second that I wouldn't enjoy helping you, that I wouldn't gain something from it, you're terribly mistaken, Mr. Winner. I like helping you in any way, and I'm not going to be selfish and think that it's going to be all about me. That's not fair to you at all. You have needs just as I do, right?"
Quatre watched her speak with profound passion. He dragged a finger against the long path of her arm. "I suppose you have a point. We have a great deal to learn about one another. This intimacy is still fairly new to me."
"To us both," Lista corrected with a widened smile. "The knowledge will come with time, with… more experience." She folded her hands on top of one another, resting her chin over them so she could look up at him. "So, will you promise me something?"
Quatre looked upon her questioningly. "Of course. Anything."
"Will you tell me if you need me that way, if I promise to do the same?" she asked, her voice lowering near to a purr. "No more hiding anything. There isn't much for us to hide behind now that we've shared this twice already. I want to know when you want me."
Another hot blush bled against the pale skin of his cheeks. He could do without that, for once. He sighed deeply and nodded. "All right. I promise. Do you?"
"Of course I do," Lista said, nodding once against her hands. "No more secrets. No more worrying about me getting hurt. That ship has sailed. There will be nothing but a positive outcome from now on. I look forward to having more moments like this with you, when it feels like there's nothing else in the world but us."
"That's normally how it feels for me when I'm around you," Quatre admitted with a chuckle. "I rather like it. A little selfishness that way never hurt anyone." He pressed his lips against her temple. "So you're all right, then? No discomfort? No pain?"
Lista shook her head. "None at all. I feel rejuvenated, really."
Scratching the hot surface of his cheek, Quatre averted his eyes from her. "Then… Would you consent to… to making love again?"
Lista snapped her head away from her hands, from his chest, at the stumbling suggestion. "What? You want to… Want to do it again?"
Quatre gave a brisk nod. "If you're up for it. I have the last month to make up for, for not realizing that this was something you wanted on a more regular basis."
A smile curved over her lips. "I hadn't realized you would have the stamina to, umm, do it twice in a row."
"Do you?" he asked, his voice husky.
Lista swallowed, rubbing the base of her neck with her palm, now sweaty in renewed anticipation. "Well… yes. It doesn't take much to get me… umm, excited."
Vigor sparked in Quatre's belly. His reservations flew out of the nearby window. "I will enjoy getting to know you better in every aspect, Lista. I will come to know of everything you could ever want, and then, I won't have to worry about you simply asking me for something. I will already know it. I swear I will know everything about you, inside and out."
Quatre was as passionate as he was shy, but she had a feeling such timidity would flee in order to make do on his promises.