Enlightenment 8 ½: All Lit Up
M-rated continuation of Chapter 8 of Enlightenment. Next chapter will be back in T-rated land. Any further M chapters will be appended to this story.
A gentle suggestion for the reader: this is not a chapter to read at the office. Go home, pour yourself a glass of wine (as long as you're legal), put on some jazz, and consider that you may need a cold shower afterward. Not trying to seem conceited, so if I'm wrong, please feel free to tell me! Enjoy.
As he stepped across the threshold into her bedroom, she nuzzled against his neck. The contact threw him off a bit, apparently, since he stopped his forward motion and clutched her more tightly.
"How about you do that once you're not suspended in midair."
"Did you have trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time when you were a kid?"
"Not sure that 'chewing gum' compares to sweeping the woman I love off her feet and into her bed."
By that time he'd reached the aforementioned piece of furniture.
He balanced one knee on the edge of the mattress and lowered her down. She pivoted and rose to her knees to face him as he straightened up.
"Did I mention that you're beautiful?"
He trailed his fingertips down her arms, over the sheer black chiffon sleeves of her robe. He was just far enough away to slide his gaze down for a closer look at the lingerie.
"Not sure, maybe you'd better say it again just in case." She was half grinning, half fishing.
His eyes returned to hers before he spoke, quietly serious.
"Kate Beckett, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen—"
He brought his hands to her waist, stroking gently through the layers of silk and lace.
He leaned in to nuzzle just below her ear, then placed an open-mouthed kiss there, before finishing on a gruff whisper.
The tingle started at the spot he had kissed and spread down her spine, out to her fingers, down to her toes. She had to shut her eyes to process, catalogue, let the goose bumps fully erupt. She felt dizzy, but then she realized she'd stopped breathing at some point and inhaled. Nope, still dizzy. She opened her eyes to find his close and dark before her, waiting. Her arms wound around his neck without a conscious thought on her part, and she was reaching up for his lips, clinging to him, wanting no space between them. His thumbs dug into her waist to pull her flush against him.
He moaned against her mouth and she opened for him, letting his tongue explore.
Her only thought was to touch more of him. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders and down to unbutton his shirt. She had to separate from him to reach lower, tug his shirttails from the waist of his dress slacks and unbuckle his belt. He disengaged his hands from where they had tangled in her hair to allow her to slide the shirt off and to the floor.
He placed light kisses on her forehead, cheeks, nose, anywhere he could easily reach as she undressed him. Her eager fingers unfastened the front of his pants and tugged down his zipper. He slipped them over his hips, stepped out of them, then reached down to tug off his socks.
When he rose, she caught her fingertips beneath the hem of his white undershirt and ran her palms up his sides, bunching the shirt as she moved upward. When she reached his chest, he raised his arms and allowed her to tug the soft cotton over his head. Now it was her turn to look. She didn't settle for just a visual assessment, though, now that she had his flesh nearly bare before her.
She ran eyes and fingers over his broad shoulders and down along defined biceps, over forearms soft with a dusting of light brown hair. She worked her way back up over elbows and triceps and then across his collarbones to meet at the center of his chest. He had definition in his pecs, and he shivered as she ghosted her palms across his nipples. She trailed fingertips over his abs, which were toned but not rippling, and she followed the line of dark hair that began at his belly button as far as the waistband of his boxers, feeling him shudder again. She could see what she was doing to him, his arousal now obvious under his last piece of clothing. But he was letting her lead for the moment. When her eyes flicked up to his face, she saw his eyes were closed, lips parted slightly, brow furrowed as if in concentration.
She leaned into his chest, letting her silk-covered breasts brush against his skin, and kissed his lips gently. He seemed to emerge from his trance then, pulling her against him. She intentionally pressed her hips against his, and he groaned and buried his face against her neck at the contact.
"Kate, you're killing me. But God, what a way to go."
"Hey, no dying yet. I still have clothes on."
"Let's fix that, shall we?"
He pulled back and examined the knot of her robe, just above her bust line. He tugged one end until the bow unknotted and gingerly parted the chiffon to reveal her chemise. His fingers lifted the robe's edges out and back over her shoulders, to let it pool on the bed behind her.
"May I just say, so worth the wait."
She smiled up at him coyly.
"Glad you think so."
He used the tips of his index fingers to trace the thin straps down her shoulders, then to tease the skin along the edges of the lace over her breasts. When he reached the dip in the center, he dipped his head forward and placed his lips lightly against her scar. When he straightened again, his eyes were moist, fingers gripping her ribcage. She reached for him, framed his face with her hands.
"I just love you, that's all."
"And did I mention that you're beautiful?"
His eyes were sparkling now.
"Hmm. I can't remember."
"At the risk of repetition, how about gorgeous—"
He kissed her chin.
"Shh. Not done yet."
She huffed out a laugh.
He kissed the hollow of her throat, then trailed his nose along the strip of lace over one breast. The sparks of desire every touch ignited went straight to her core.
He kissed her nipple lightly through the sheer chiffon and she gasped.
He nuzzled across to her other breast and stroked that peak with the flat of his tongue.
"Rick?" It could have been a whimper. She thought she might burst into flame from the sudden jolt of desire that brought a flush to her whole body.
"Hmm?" His lips hadn't disengaged.
He did release her then.
"Oh, Kate, I'm barely getting started."
With that, he took her in his arms and climbed up on the bed to lay her back into the mattress. He lay beside her, one hand propping up his head.
His other hand traced the lace running down the seam of her nightie, until he reached the ruffled hem. He went back to torturing her then with just a fingertip running along the skin of her thigh, just below the edge of the soft material. As he reached her hip, the digit nudged higher, sliding the silk up until it ran against the edge of her lace underwear. He was watching her, alternating between her face and the skin he was revealing.
He flattened his palm to slide it across her stomach, the satin now ruched up to her belly button. As if he had finally reached his own threshold for torment, he swiftly knelt beside her and hooked the edges of the chemise with his fingertips. She lifted her hips as he slid the silk up and over them, following the edge with tiny kisses over one hipbone and along her stomach. She arched up as he reached her ribcage and he uncovered her breasts, then he slid the garment over her head and added it to the pile of his clothes on the floor. When he turned back to her, she reached for him, tugging him to lie against her. She parted her thighs so he could settle his hips between them, adjusting his weight onto his elbows and knees.
She felt his hard length pressed against her, so close to where she needed him to be, and the ache at her center increased almost to the level of pain. He pulled her focus upward as he spanned her ribcage with his fingers, tucking them under her back and prompting her to arch toward him. His thumbs brushed the outer curve of her breasts as he latched on to one nipple, suckling gently.
She couldn't suppress the strangled little cry—she barely recognized her own voice in it. She kept reminding herself to open her eyes, wanting to watch his face, but with every new touch, her lids fluttered shut again.
He released her and moved to pay the same attention to her other breast. When she was writhing beneath him, he shifted his attention downward, tongued her belly button and began placing light kisses along the upper edge of black lace. He let out a warm breath over her center and slipped a fingertip under the edge of lace at each hip. He pulled downward and she lifted her hips, then tucked her knees together to one side so he could remove that last bit of clothing.
She recognized his intent as he guided her legs back to their former position. She wasn't going to last thirty seconds this way after all this buildup. She reached for him to pull him back up over her, but he just nudged one knee up off the mattress enough to reach under it and entwine his fingers with hers beside her hip.
She was bare before him now, trembling with the adrenaline and anticipation.
He brushed the backs of his fingers gently over her curls, and then stroked one along her folds. He trailed moisture up and circled her swollen nub slowly, the contact making her inhale sharply and grip the hand she held. He kissed the crease of her thigh and slid his finger back down to press inside her, making her cry out. As his tongue gently caressed her center, her hips bucked instinctively toward him. His lips closed around her, tongue now applying firmer pressure, as he slid a second finger into her and curled their tips forward. The sensation was too much, her nerve endings were singing, blood boiling, heart pounding, breath panting. He wasn't letting up, if anything his touch was intensifying, speeding her to the edge. She heard herself whispering insensible words, syllables that sounded like his name, on every breath.
As the first pulse of her climax built, she cried out and clamped down on his hand, still clutching hers at her side. Her inner muscles clenched and her whole body sang with release. He stayed with her through it, gentling his ministrations as she came down, and finally releasing her when her breathing slowed. He slid up beside her and tucked her against his side, holding her tightly against his chest and stroking his palms up and down her back.
She'd never felt so utterly helpless and completely out of control. If her brain were working properly, she would probably interpret it as weakness, but at this moment, in Rick's arms, she simply felt free. One hell of a fresh start, thank you very much. At that thought, a giggle escaped her lips, followed by another, and soon she was laughing, burying her face against his chest. She must sound completely insane; she felt euphoric.
"Kate, are you okay?"
Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes now and she took a deep breath to stop the giggling long enough to answer him.
"Oh my God, Rick I have no idea. I'm so sorry, this has never happened to me before."
Now he was chuckling, too.
"So I should take this as a compliment, then?"
"Oh, yes! Rick that was, that was, I'm having trouble remembering adjectives right now…"
"Hmm, so Kate dissolving into an incoherent, giggling mess after an orgasm is a good thing."
"Apparently, yeah." She took a long, slow, deep breath.
"Whew. Okay, I think I'm better now."
She lifted her head to smile up into his twinkling eyes, then rolled off him, flopping on to her back with a moan.
"Oh my God that was amazing." She turned her head limply toward him.
"Want me to do it again?" He was smiling at her, raising his eyebrows.
"Right now? I'm afraid I might die. I think my brain might actually implode. But yes, I definitely want you to do it again. Just give me a day or two to recover."
"Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."
He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and brought it to her lips, kissing the tender skin there. She shifted to place an open-mouthed kiss to his palm, then delicately nibbled on his pinky, swirling her tongue and lips over each fingertip in turn until she reached his thumb. She took that digit in her mouth and scraped her teeth along the pad, releasing it with a pop. His eyes had darkened again and the look he was giving her could only be described as lust.
She rolled back toward him and straddled his hips as she pulled him up into a searing kiss. His hands kneaded up and down along her spine, then over her hips and along her thighs.
"Why are you still wearing clothes, again?"
She moved to kiss his shoulder, his neck, behind his ear.
"Let me just go—"
"I have protection in the drawer there. I—so I was going to ask you. I'm on the pill, and I'm clean." She searched his eyes.
"So am I, I got tested for everything when I donated blood last summer." She hadn't known he gave blood then. Maybe they all had. But more importantly, he was telling her he'd been waiting for her ever since last May. Playboy image be damned.
"But birth control pills aren't a hundred percent." She looked at him shyly.
"I know that. I think I'm okay with it, if you are."
His eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. She'd decided; she was in this for good. She knew he was. One percent was a pretty small chance; before it had been way too big for her liking. With him it seemed a lot more reasonable, somehow. He reached up and took her face in his hands.
"Only with you, Kate."
He kissed her, and she nodded her agreement against his lips.
She scooted back and then reached for his boxers, pulling them off as he lifted his hips. He moved back to sit against the pillows piled at her headboard and she climbed back into his lap. He palmed her breasts, nuzzled against her neck, nibbled along her collarbone. His hands came around her sides and she realized her scar was right where he was touching her. She'd actually forgotten about it while he was undressing her. He didn't seem bothered by it now either, so she stopped worrying.
She was building up to a pleasant hum in her veins, a reemergence of that same overpowering desire, when his hands reached her hips and squeezed. She pushed forward against his erection as it nudged against her belly and lifted her head from where it had been tucked against his neck.
"I love you, Rick."
She lifted her hips and aligned herself, then slowly, surely, she took him inside her. His lids sank briefly, but opened again to watch her. He felt solid, steady, as he filled her. It had been so long it took her a moment to breathe, let herself adjust to the sensation as her hips met his.
She took stock of every place they were connected, committing this rightness to memory. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, hands gripping his shoulders, thighs framing his hips, lips hovering over his, sharing breath. He was looking at her like he could see the secrets of the universe in her eyes.
When everything inside her was deliciously relaxed, she began to move. As she rose and sank over him, setting a slow, even rhythm, his hands traveled over her hips, her waist, her shoulders and up into her hair. He tugged her down to his lips for an unhurried kiss. He brushed her hair back over her shoulder and kissed his way across to her ear. As his tongue laved the skin behind it, she let out a moan and sped her movements, growing impatient.
He held one palm against her tailbone, pulling her hips tighter against him and making delicious contact that threw off her rhythm. He kept her against him and slid down the pillows to lay flatter, keeping her on top of him and not breaking contact. From this angle he could meet her movements and rock up against her. Now with each thrust he was pressing against her in every way she needed, and soon she was gasping above him, face pressed against his neck.
Rick was whispering against her hair, quiet words of love and forever, fading in and out over the pounding of her heart. She lifted her head to look down into his eyes as her climax began to coil inside her. He pressed his lips together in a small smile laced with concentration.
As the first wave of release washed over her, she whispered his name and stiffened against him. She saw the moment when he gave in to his own climax.
"Kate, I love you."
She felt him surge inside her, pulsing in time with her own contracting inner walls. Time stretched out as they came together, the sense of rightness rolling off of her in waves. She dropped her head to the crook of his shoulder and panted limply, trying to get control of herself. He had found her hands and was lacing his fingers with hers, squeezing as his heaving chest began to calm.
After a few moments of quiet, she mumbled against his skin.
"I don't think I can move. Ever."
He chuckled against her shoulder.
"So now it's Kate melting in to a boneless, sated puddle on my chest after sex."
"Right. You're the one who gets paid to come up with adjectives."
"Adjectives require a muse."
"Well, if I am actually glued to your chest for all eternity, at least you'll always have inspiration."
"I can think of worse things than having you pressed up against me for eternity."
She smiled against his skin.
"Me too. But fortunately for both of us, I think I'm recovering."
She lifted off his chest and shifted off his lap, sliding somewhat unsteadily out of bed.
"Sex without condoms is messy." This was something new and unexpected.
"Hah. Yeah. I guess so. I'd be happy to wash your back if you want to shower off."
"I am so not up for another round in the shower right now."
He was up and following her into her bathroom.
"I said nothing about another round… yet. My suggestion was simply for the sake of efficiency."
"And ever since your last apartment blew up, I've wanted to see you naked in a bathtub. But a shower will do in a pinch."
She turned on the taps to let the water heat, then glanced back and caught sight of their reflection in the vanity mirror, bright under the fluorescent lights. Both were still flushed, with pink splotches where his stubble had nuzzled or her kisses had gotten enthusiastic. He was looking at them as well, and he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against his chest, tucking his chin over her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. Steam swirled and began to fog the top of the mirror as she covered his arms with her own and laid her head against his cheek. They both looked slightly mussed, a bit rough around the edges, but she recognized what else was reflected back from both of them. She hoped it would never fade.