A/N hi guys, just a little update to this chapter- it still wasn't quite right. You know how it is :)
anywho, hope you enjoy.
'I want you... and I trust you Sarah' Crowley's thought-speech echoed through her. The fact he had said it telepathically felt somehow more intimate, with his dark eyes staring into her, his warm body shielding her from the cold, their hastened breath misting in the midnight air. This was undoubtedly a different side of Crowley; no snide remarks or sarcasm, no air of cold cruelty behind a charming facade.
As though reflecting the tension between them, a thunder storm rumbled closer, and louder as a light rain began to fall. Crowley, seeming incredibly uncomfortable having said what he did, spoke again. "So... The cards are now on the table, tell me love- where does this leave us?" Just as Sarah had opened her mouth to reply lightning roared and crackled through the darkness, as though signalling them they crashed into each other, kissing furiously.
When Sarah opened her eyes she was shocked to see their surroundings had changed, they were now in a lavishly furnished bedroom. But that didn't concern her at that moment. As Crowley had already torn her blazer from her shoulders and was working on the buttons of her shirt, while kissing her neck. She gingerly worked his suit jacket off and pulled at his tie.
He had gotten her down to her underwear, and he was still in his dress pants, but shirtless. Sarah tugged at his waistband but hesitated. Crowley stepped back half a pace and held her hips. "Nervous darling?" She shook her head.
"No. I just... I haven't done this before and..." She shook her head embarrassed. "I'm not sure what to do ...with my hands...or anything." He moved closer as she spoke, flame in his eyes, hands gripping her firmly.
"It's really quite simple darling." Then he pulled her flush against him so she could feel his manhood hard against her. "Just let me make love to you." He then kissed her again and grazed his teeth against her lip gently, making her moan aloud.
"Yes." She said quietly, moving her arms from his broad shoulders to the base of his neck, feeling the play of his muscles. They made it to the large bed and he laid her down gently, following her down as she leant back.
"You are one brave young woman." He growled into her thick, wavy hair. He pulled at the clasp of her bra roughly with one hand while the other stroked her sensuously near her knicker line. As Sarah arched her back and shrugged out of the bra Crowley took the moment to kiss her there hungrily. Taken aback by a sensation she had never felt before, she fell back to the bed again. Crowley smirked, incredibly pleased with himself and began to slip out of his pants and underwear. Sarah bit her lip nervously, Crowley, noticing lay next to her and snaked his arm around her protectively.
"I would never hurt you darling." He whispered in her ear and kissed her neck. "I want this to be perfect with you." He kissed her neck more passionately and when she moaned in appreciation he began to graze his teeth against her skin.
In an involuntary movement Sarah pushed backwards into him. Crowley growled in pleasure and moved to face her. "What are you doing to me?" He asked softly and ground himself into her. They stayed that way for awhile; kissing and pushing into each other, Sarah began to forget her inhibitions and fears. Crowley's hands began to move downwards to her knickers, and looked her directly in the the eyes, waiting for permission. Sarah bit her lip again and nodded.
All they could hear was each other's breathing, Crowley held her in his arms and pushed her legs apart gently with his knees. She felt oddly protected by him as he leant down and kissed her as he took her gently. Sarah and Crowley both cried out in the most wonderful feelings of synonymous pleasure and pain.
She couldn't sleep afterwards, although they did lie there together, tangled in the soft sheets and each other's limbs. They talked, and laughed and kissed for the millionth time and then kissed again.
Then, when Crowley got into the shower, Sarah, unable to contain her curiosity, put on one of his shirts and decided to explore the room. It was vast. The size of some houses, and was lavishly adorned with velvet, silks, dark wood and leather recliners.
Her fingers trailed over the spines of countless volumes in the bookshelves. She heard him chuckle from behind at her inquisitiveness, and turned to him. There was Crowley, wearing only silk boxers and an open bathrobe in his customary black, he passed her a drink in a crystal tumbler. "This is your room?" She asked. "I mean your actual room?" She sipped the drink lightly while he nodded absently, more concerned with taking in the way she looked wearing his shirt.
"Yes darling, you are in fact in the devil's bedroom." He swept and arm around the room grandiosely. At that her gaze caught sight of an oil painting. It was of Crowley, in all-out kilt and Georgian garb...frills and all. Which made her snigger, then laugh, then laugh very loudly, the more she looked the more she laughed. He made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. "You know, in a usual situation laughter would make a mans libido shrink rather considerably." She tried to calm her giggles.
"Yes. But then there's nothing 'usual' about this." He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "I mean neither of us are exactly normal are we. I mean how old are you anyway?" She deferred to the painting.
Crowley choked on his drink and did his best to look offended although the conversation amused him greatly. "Goodness you don't beat about the bush do you?" He advanced on her and grabbed her, playfully throwing her on the bed. She laughed. He removed his robe and followed her.
"Go on then. Hit me with it how old are you?" But he wasn't listening, Crowley was already undoing the buttons of her shirt again. "That's a conversation for another time, love." He growled.