A/N: I promise I have not forgotten about my other stories, school and life have kept me busy. Look for updates come December. Thanks go to lala-kate and miscreantrose for their input and encouragement, you two are wonderful. You can find me on tumblr now: URL gazelle-legs. With that being said, enjoy this and let me know your thoughts.
*I own nothing. Season four is fabulous!
His finger ran along the sharp line of her jaw, he touched her as if he was afraid she would break. She could feel the heat of him against her, his breath fanned across her face-mint and tea. She was afraid to open her eyes, to take that last step by pressing her lips to his. She wanted, oh how she wanted to. Almost as if he could sense her beginning to break he lightly pressed his own lips to the side of her head and trailed down to the corner of her mouth. They were not kisses meant to arouse, but to comfort. The whole time his arms tightened around her, anchoring her to reality.
His hand tightening on her waist and the small distance he placed between them forced her to open her eyes. What she saw in his made her mouth run dry: desire, need, and understanding. She could feel him pulling away; she did not want him to go, not yet. Her hands found his hair, it was so different than what she had been used to but that was as it should be. Placing a lock on the thoughts threatening to pull her under she kissed him. He had not expected her to; she could feel the shock in the stillness of his body. Then he was kissing her as if his life depended on it. Their mouths ate hungrily at one another. It was carnal and reverent at the same time. How was that possible? She did not know.
Neither knew how long they stayed like that, just kissing. Passion was thickening their pulses making it impossible not to press closer to one another. His hands traced down her spine to curve around on her hip, she shivered. Her hands had made their way to his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm. Alive. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his vest. She was falling into him. If anyone could see them they would not be able to tell where she started and he ended.
His hand tracing along her side caused her to break away laughing. She was so beautiful to him.
"Follow me." She said and led him away.
They crept up the main staircase, the sound of their breathing was deafening amidst the silence of the house. She was leading the way, their fingers intertwined. He stopped. She turned to face him, her eyes searching. He could read the vulnerability, the question in hers. He had to kiss her again. She was a stair above him; they were eye-to-eye.
Lips clashed together, first slow and then fast. A dull roaring filled her ears as she felt her back hit the stair bannister. Neither was sure when they had turned, but then again they did not care. Instead of freeing his hand from hers, he wrapped their joined limbs behind her back bringing her tighter against him. He knew the feel and shape of her body so well, yet he did not know enough; never enough. The one hand she had free went to the dark curls on his head. Her fingers tightened their grip bringing him closer to her. She wanted to be consumed by him. His lips sought the flushed skin of her neck, the spot behind her ear. He absorbed the smell of her- lavender and a hint of vanilla. It was intoxicating.
Freeing her hand from his, she removed his tie and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. His skin was warm to the touch. He was so different from what she had known. She mentally chided herself for that thought. She had to stop comparing and accept this for what it was. This was her coming back to life; this one man had brought the fire of her back. She could feel the material of her dress sliding up her legs, the pressure of his fingertips making her quake at the sensation. Breaking from him, she led him up the rest of the stairs. She paused at the landing unsure of which way to go. Her bedroom or his; both held so much power. As if he could hear her, he leaned forward and whispered, "Your choice, you are in control." His words set something free in her. She knew where to go, a place where they would have equal power.
She took him past her room and then down another hallway. They stopped in front a closed door. Her fingers shook as she turned the handle, his hand reached to cover hers. The room was illuminated by moonlight. Pieces of furniture were covered with white sheets and the bed against the wall was neatly made. A guest room, he assumed. She turned to face him, a nervous smile on her face. He could see the spark of her eyes, and for the first time he did not see any shadows in them. They were the brilliant brown he had always known. Would she make the first move? He wondered. She did. Her lips were insistent against his, the small nips of her teeth pulling groans from his throat. Her hands pushed his jacket and shirt from his shoulders; they fell to the floor without a care. His own were busy pulling the pins from her already mussed hair. So soft, he thought as he ran his hand through the long tresses. Her lips trailed down the side of his neck. She bit lightly at his collar bone, causing his hand to tighten on her. He could feel the zipper of her dress beneath his palm. His thumb brushed along her back as he pulled it down.
She felt the material of her dress slacken. She had to let him go in order to free her arms. The dress fell to the floor, a discarded puddle of material as she stood before him in only her chemise. The force of his kiss took her by surprise as did his body pinning hers against the wall. His hands left a trail of heat as they ran over her removing her chemise in the process. She was left in only her stockings and shoes. She felt him kneel down and begin to remove them, his tongue danced along her hip bones, and then her hands were in his hair as her head hit the wall. When he finally stood again she fell limply against him, he buried his face in her waiting for her breathing to return to normal. As her mind began to clear she realized he was still clad in his trousers. Her fingers made quick work of the button as he heeled off his shoes adding them to the pile of discarded clothing.
The first touch of skin against skin made them both moan at the newness of it. He was hard where she was soft, rough where she was smooth. The differences in the texture of their skin spoke volumes. They were both so different, yet fit together. He lifted her until she was slightly above him, and then lowered her. Her head fell into the crook of his neck as he began to move. The silence of the room was soon broken by the sounds they tore from one another's throats. His fingers were going to leave marks she was sure and he would have a mark along his neck. When finally sated his head rested against her, their breathing labored. Somehow he managed to find the strength to move them to the bed. Raising her head, she turned his face to hers. She poured everything he had managed to make her feel in the kiss. The fire that they thought had finally been sated was beginning to burn again.
"Mary." His voice was hoarse.
"Tony." She could not stop kissing him.
Round two.