LCIH: Taken off of my K-I-S-S series from lunaescence (under the author name of Ruby Spice). If you see it anywhere else, it's been plagerized. Don't be so low and do that to mine, or anyone else's story, for that matter.
LCIH: Anyways, enjoy the smut! I don't own Black Cat or the reader, so. Reviews are always appreciated!
"(Name)…"
The moan rang out from upstairs. You didn't answer, engrossed in your task of filling the bowl with ice-cold water. You quickly grabbed a rag as you turned off the faucet, the bowl having been filled, and then looked around for the thermometer you set somewhere. "Goddamn, where did I put it?"
Again he called your name, this time with more pain.
"I'm coming!" you answered, and then you cringed at the sound of impatience in your voice. Your fingers closed around the slim, cool metal of the thermometer and with a triumphant cry, you scooped that up, along with the bowl and rag and made a mad dash toward the stairs, which you took two at a time.
When you reached the top, you flew around the corner, not paying nearly as much attention to the water splashing onto your shirt as you should've been. You zipped into the bedroom, throwing open the door.
"I brought some water," you said breathlessly. "This should help with your fever."
In response, you got a low warbling groan. Encased by a thick blanket in the bed was the one and only Train Heartnet, the Black Cat. At other times, he may have been deadly and ferocious and cold and calculating. When he's with you, he's childish and silly and downright sweet.
But right now, Train was sick. He got a fever.
Sitting by the bed was the trash can, just in case Train needed to vomit. He was spewing everywhere all day yesterday, and it had not been fun cleaning up after him. Once he'd gotten everything out of his stomach, he'd fallen asleep but woken up to a terrible fever and here you were.
He cracked an eye open and tried for a smile, but his face was much too flushed. "You took so long," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Long? I was only gone a minute or two, darling," you replied as soothingly as you could. You walked over to the bed and took a seat next to him, setting the bowl on the nightstand.
"Felt like an eternity," he insisted as you dipped the rag into the water and then laid it across his forehead.
"I would never leave you that long, especially not like this." At your response, Train closed his eyes and smiled as best as he could.
He looked so cute, even though his brown hair was matted to his neck and sweat was beading on his skin. The normally sweet but tense, I've-seen-too-much-for-my-years Train Heartnet looked calm at the moment.
You gently touched the side of his face. His skin was burning up, almost scalding to the touch, and you resisted the urge to pull away before your tender fingertip was burned. "I'm going to take your temperature, all right?" you said, and he nodded without opening his eyes, so with his consent, you slid the thermometer into place and then settled back, watching Train.
As you waited for the device to register his body temperature, you stroked his cheek, brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen across his face. Train leaned into your touch, one of his hands coming up so he could encircle his fingers around your wrist. In moments like these, Train was tenderest.
When the tinny beep sounded, you pulled out the device and read off the numbers shown. Train raised a brow soundlessly, but that was all his reaction to the slowly lowering number. It had been two degrees higher when you'd last checked his temperature, six hours ago.
"That's good, right? Your fever's going down. By tomorrow, you should be back to normal." You soaked the rag with more water and then reapplied it to Train's forehead. "But maybe you should take a break from being a sweeper. After all, you'll need rest to recover from this nasty fever…"
He opened his eyes and stared up at you. His golden irises were cloudy and hazy and even though he was seeing you, you weren't sure he was seeing you. "Maybe you can keep me company," he suggested, the corner of his mouth turning upward. "I might get lonely."
You weren't sure what he meant by that.
"Well…I can try," you said, confused as to the notion of his remark.
"Oh, you can do better than just try."
Then the smile was wiped off of Train's face as his brow furrowed in pain. "Ugh…" A low, guttural sound escaped his mouth as he snapped his jaws shut.
"What is it?" you cried, suddenly afraid. Was he having a seizure? What was wrong? He looked like he was in so much pain! "Is there anything I can do to help?"
The hand around your wrist tightened until he was clutching your wrist painfully, and you almost hissed out your discomfort. "(Name)," he gasped, unable to look at you.
"What?" Panicked, you leaned forward.
His lips connected with yours. They were fiery with heat and fever and almost immediately, you made to pull away, startled by the heat. But he'd captured your lips in a furious kiss, one you found you couldn't break away from. Annoyance flooded your veins as you realized what he was doing.
"You're dirty," you wanted to say, angry at having been scared by his act of pain. "And for a second, I really thought you were in trouble…"
His feverish lips were actually quite sensuous, and you felt something stirring in your nether regions. Determined to break away, you shook his hand off and then grabbed his frail shoulders, trying to take control of the kiss.
Train pulled away first. He gave you a sultry smirk, and before you knew what was happening, he'd flipped you and pinned you to the bed with his body. Underneath the covers, he'd been naked except for a pair of boxers, and you flushed as he hovered above you in all his sexy glory. "Did you really think you could beat me at this?" he asked teasingly.
"I should have the advantage. You know, since you're sick and all." But even with fever, Train was stronger than you. How unfair!
The brunette chuckled and then dove down for another breath-taking kiss. He nibbled your lower lip, rolling his teeth over it and you felt a moan collecting at the back of your throat. It really wasn't fair, for him to have the advantage with strength and his hot lips. Soon, you found yourself melting in his mouth, just about ready to take him there and then without having to worry about catching his fever.
He pulled back again, his mouth tantalizingly close. A thin trail of saliva connected the two of you for a moment before breaking, and it took every ounce of your will and self-control not to launch yourself at him and kiss him furiously again. What you really needed now was a sexy make-out session. Just you, Train, and the bed. Had you had your way, you would've gotten right to it, but Train was clearly in control and his hands reached for the buttons on your blouse.
You fumed silently as he tried to work the buttons out. Then you remembered Train was isupposed/i to be recovering in bed, and sure enough, his hands were shaking ever so slightly as he managed to undo the first button. "Do you need help with that?" you asked sweetly.
As stubborn as always, Train shook his head. "No, I can do it myself," he said, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The tip of his tongue protruded from his mouth in an adorable fashion as he worked the others. "Damn it, when did these blouses get so fucking hard?"
"No need to swear, darling," you chastised him. As he fumbled around with the buttons some more, you finally decided to ignore him and you reached up to finish undoing the blouse, sitting up slightly to get the silky material off your shoulders before lowering yourself back down to the mattress. "Better?"
"I told you I could do it myself." He pouted.
"And I'd be here until I died." You smiled, and when his pout didn't budge, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his mouth back down to yours. It was time for a hot make-out session.
It quickly got underway, as passion and desire and lust fueled the kiss. You ran your fingers through his silky hair, reveling in the feel of it, but when his hair began to bore you, you slid your hands down to his shoulders. As you traced the solid muscle of his chest and abdomen, slowly making your way downward to the waistband of his boxers, a low hum resounded in your ears. After a moment, you realized the sound as coming from Train. He was purring, as though a cat would.
The purrs falling from his lips, vibrating against your mouth, were very sexual and you wanted nothing more than to strip him of his boxers and have him do you. You dipped a hand into his boxers, and he froze, his purr cutting off sharply in the middle. When you dragged one of your fingernails across his hipbone, he shuddered, eyes half-lidded with bliss.
"Do you like that?" you asked, gently scratching his hipbone. He'd stopped kissing you, feeling the full effects of pleasure being bestowed upon him. To answer your question, he nodded, and you laughed. "You like that, don't you? Yeah, I can tell, darling."
"Hey…you can't g-go on without s-something," he growled, and then he unclasped your lacy bra and roughly grabbed your breasts, kneading them with expert hands. You moaned, digging your fingernails into his hipbone, and he hissed.
The two of you continued to pleasure one another, as this little game turned into one of sexual thrust-and-parry. You would make him shiver, only to retreat as he would elicit moan after moan from your lips.
Train decided he liked playing with your breasts, especially your sensitive rosebud nipples. He rolled the pads of his thumbs over the tips, making you squirm underneath him. "N-nnngh, darling," you tried to say, as he gently brushed them. "Not like th-that…"
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he asked, pinching them hard.
You gasped out, "…mouth. Your mouth."
Grinning triumphantly, he lowered his head to one of your breasts and nearly attacked it, sucking it hard enough to leave a bruise. He used his hand to tend to the other neglected breast.
Soon, you were breathing heavy and panting. Train's face was even more flushed than before, his eyes dark with lust, and you had your legs wrapped around his waist, locking your ankles together to keep them in place.
Finally, you decided you couldn't take it anymore. You yanked his boxers down and when he realized what you were doing, he smirked and kicked them off his heels. It landed somewhere on the floor, forgotten already.
So now he was completely naked, and so very much turned on. You could see that between his legs, it was already erect and standing, waiting for attention.
Train was smirking. "I'm ready. How about you?" he asked.
"I don't know. You tell me." Truth be told, your panties were already sopping wet and you hadn't even done much foreplay. It was all because of Train's feverish body. The extra heat was doing a number on your southern regions. You really wanted his mouth down there, in between your legs…
"Well, for starters, this is in the way," he said, having already pulled down your yoga pants. He was talking about your panties, and with a finger, he tapped your core gently. The simple action, intensified by the feeling of desire and heightened by oncoming sex, made you gasp and arch up into him.
He'd hardly given you a warning, which seemed another cheating process was in play. But at this point in time, you didn't care how unfair he was being, you just wanted to have sex with him. Without waiting for him, you shimmied out of your panties and threw them, along with your yoga pants, onto the floor alongside his boxers.
Now you both were naked, and the game could really start from here on out.
Again, Train seemed to waste no time on warnings before he plunged one of his digits into your warmth. You bucked your hips at the invasion, eyes sliding closed in ecstasy. He played with your clit for a few moments, rubbing his finger against it, before delving deeper into your folds, looking for that one spot…
"So can you tell me, dear (Name), where the spot is that makes you crazy?" he asked, pressing down on top of you. Now you were firmly wedged in between the solid wall of his naked body and the bed, and you could feel his erection against your skin. It aroused you, almost as much as the feeling of his digit moving deeper and deeper into your core. As he searched for the spot, you parted your legs, granting him more access.
"You'll have to—a-aah—find it," you gasped, raking your nails down his back. He shivered, enjoying your motions.
"Hmm…" He pumped his finger in and out, imitating the act that was sure to come, and then a scream was torn from the back of your throat as you arched up against him. A grin spread over his lips. "Oh! Have I found it?"
Instead of answering with coherent words, you were moaning and squealing as he brutally slammed his fingers against your sweet spot. Each time he did so brought you closer to release, and you threw your head back, urging him on with wild chants. "Aaah, right there, Train…yes! Mmm, right there!"
Train loved feeling the tips of your now hard rosebuds as they pressed into his chest. Each time you arched your back, your breasts squashed up against his chest and he thought he was going to come before you. But he was determined to bring you release first.
Eventually, it came. He gave your spot one more thrust as he dipped his head down to kiss you, and your body convulsed violently as your juices gushed all over his hand. The release was so amazing, so phenomenal, and your eyes rolled back into your head as you gave shuddering gasps, legs already twitching with the aftereffects of release.
"Feeling better?" Train asked, his hand wandering back up to play with your breasts as you stared up at him through hazy irises, catching your breath. He was trying to revive you from your stupor-like state, get you ready for what was to come next.
You managed a sultry smile, brushing a lock of hair from his golden eyes. "I'm fine. What about you? Has your fever gone down?"
"Is now the right time to be worrying about my fever?" he asked, rolling his eyes with a laugh.
"Well, I don't want you to get sick, not with what I'm about to do…" Still smiling that sultry smile, you reached in between your bodies and took hold of his erection, giving it one long stroke. A groan fell from his lips.
"Ugh…(Name)," Train muttered, his voice low.
"Well?" You waited for an answer.
"It seems my fever's fine," he groaned, pressing his face against your neck and you knew he was lying; his body was still hot, though not as flushed as it had been before. But he wasn't paying it any mind, as he really wanted release of his own. "Now, please, (Name)…" He bit his lip, eyes screwed shut as you rubbed him lightly with the tips of your fingers. "C-carry on…"
You grinned and then turned to attend to the matter at your hands.