Unspoken
She doesn't notice I'm watching her let alone how intently I am doing so. She usually has a sixth sense about these type of things, maybe she can just feel a change to my aura when I do but now—she doesn't notice. She's caught up in something, better yet she is reacting to something—I'm just not sure what it is.
She's leaning against the counter-top, her head tilted slightly to the right as she keeps her left leg loosely bent. Her foot idly moving from side to side as she flexes every couple of seconds, it's subtle—so subtle you wouldn't notice unless you knew what to look for—but I notice.
Could it be stress? Maybe exhaustion finally catching up to her from the past three weeks of non-stop cases. Maybe the grotesque nature of this particular case we're working on, she isn't really the squish type but she does have her limits. Or maybe it was something as simple as the nearing monsoon that we have had to drive three hours through.
Or maybe she is just flirting with the borderline promiscuous desk clerk who continues bat her doe-eyes and smile from ear to ear as if she was a child on Christmas morning.
Sighing I turn away my stomach unable to handle the growing nausea of the sight in front of me. I was never the jealous type—not until her. It's not to say I've never been jealous, of course I have—everyone has gotten jealous at least once in their life. Only problem is since I met Bo I seem to live in a constant state of jealousy. Jealous of Dyson. Jealous of Kenzi. Jealous of this desk clerk. And I'm sure I'll find something to get jealous of between now and the time I go to sleep. It's quite ridiculous I know, it's irrational and illogical but unfortunately this woman has that effect on me.
Sure we've slept together a couple of times, shared a few kisses even said a few confused I love yous but we're not together—still. So I don't really have a right to get jealous, thus I continue to find myself standing patiently in the background pretending not to be bothered by the fact her attention is being monopolized by this-girl.
I know she is a woman obviously, a succubus none the less with needs and such things but I tend to forget about it most times. It's funny in a odd, sad, ironic type of way but when I think of her as a woman I can't help but think of her as my woman, the woman in my life—even though in truth, I share her.
Perhaps if I played this as Dyson would all macho and manly and intrusive then she would get the message. Perhaps if I vocalized my feelings on the matter in those exact terms, that I thought of her as mine—that I wanted her to be mine then maybe I would be the one warming the other side of her bed instead of him. Perhaps if I played this as Kenzi did and made an issue of when I was feeling ignored and never gave her a chance to do so. Then maybe some nights she would be on my couch drinking wine and telling ridiculous jokes that I'm not sure she even gets. Perhaps if I was a tad smoother like Hale, then I wouldn't have to say anything aloud she would just know.
Maybe she does know it all and just prefers the Paris Hilton look alike.
Rolling my eyes at the situation like an immature child I walk the seven steps to my right to take a seat in the black, leather chair that was merely here for decoration apparently since I've sat on far more comfortable steal benches before.
See the thing was, I was getting better before these three weeks, I really was. Sure the reason I didn't take Dyson's advice a.k.a subtle hint to run was because of Bo but I was better. I wasn't pining over her so much nor obsessing. But then came three weeks of tackling the most brutal killings Hale could find that crossed the lines between Human and Fae. Him and his kick for building new bridges. I'm all for it really, doubt it will work but whatever makes his day. It's a nice sentiment really.
Being partnered with her was a double edged sword, sure on the plus side I get to spend time with her and help people which is always a good return. But on the downside, I get to witness various 'desk clerk' incidences over and over and over again.
Another thing to add to the irony train is the fact that Hale is arranging this all. I know Dyson has made a subtle fit about it and I know Kenzi has been whispering in his ear about continuously paring me and Bo together since they are all team Dyson but yet here we are. It really is counterproductive since I know for a fact he is hoping her and his buddy get back together—though I think his only real opinion on the matter comes from the fact of wanting to stay on Kenzi's good side.
I just find this all illogical in the grand scheme of things, if they wanted to make sure we stayed apart then why put us together and 'force' us to spend almost every waking moment with one another for three weeks. It may sound a bit on the platitudinal side of things but for three weeks we've done nothing but put our lives on the line for one another. We've had to trust each other complicity.
That is 21 days, 504 hours and 30,240 minutes—give or take ten—of 'forced' relationship building.
Counterproductive to their cause if you ask me but I'm not complaining—not really. I love Bo, there is no doubt about that—there never has been so why I can't tell her? That is a question I find myself pondering most nights as of late. When I push all of the insecurities and anxieties away from my mind I know she loves me too. Although for the life of me I can't understand why.
Through the years I've given her every reason not to. I spy-banged her. I've lied. I've hidden my comatose girlfriend. I've made her kill my semi-possessed girlfriend. I've ran from her on occasions. I've shut her down. I haven't been up front with her about certain things pertaining to me, to my past. I've been cold and occasionally distant.
Yet somewhere in the mist of all of this she's become my best-friend, my love, my life. It's amazing how someone can become all of these things so effortlessly. I've trusted her with so much, so much more than I ever thought I would ever trust anyone with. Sadly, there is so much more that I can't even begin to comprehend how to begin to tell her.
I know or let me rephrase that I believe that I know her better than anyone else even her best-friend and the wolf. I know what she's told me, I know the files the Light had given to me on her so long ago. I know how her genetics work, her body chemistry. I know the subtle meanings hers looks mean and the way her body moves when she's angry or hurt or excited.
Perhaps I pay too much attention to her.
See the thing about Bo is that she has created this persona she wants the world to see. She has made sure to harden herself since she first found herself thrown into this 'Fae world', she's done a decent job of it until you really pay attention. She tries to keep this no-nonsense attitude, I think it has something to do with everyone thinking they can get over her on her—my indiscretions had something to do with that. She also really took my words to heart a little too much, one day we were talking and I had made some analogy which boiled down to that if you barked loud enough people would believe you could bite just as hard without her ever having to do so—she's taken it to heart.
Yes she is this street-smart, no-nonsense, strong, badass, succubus but she is so much more than that. She is all of those things and so, so much more. She is a woman who is still innocent and sweet underneath it all. Despite the fact she has learned to try and hide it, she is very sensitive. And oddly enough an incurable romantic in every sense of the world.
I know she prefers women even if she doesn't know it yet, there is a difference between her and women that is incomparable to her and men. I know occasionally when she thinks about her old life she has a yearning she won't admit too. For as much as she has come into her nature she still has lingering wishes for her human life. I know she feels a sense of loss for the life she believes she will never have, never getting married, never having children, never the white picked fence. All things you'd never think she wanted but I know until she was sixteen that's all she wanted and I know for years after young and lost, afraid of herself she still wished for that. I think occasionally she still wants that to some degree but it's far and in between everything else that comes up.
I know that despite the tolerance she has built up to this life she still fears the nightmarish things we deal with day to day, especially the things within these past three weeks—they're different then what she has normally dealt with just the brutality alone. I know despite the fact she pushes through everything and tries not to look back she still fears about everything she has been through.
She won't tell me this aloud but every so often I see it in her eyes, on the nights after a day that has dealt her more than she knows how to handle.
There are things, things like that, that she doesn't even realize I know. I believe she tries occasionally to show me a softer side, a side of her that not even Dyson gets to see—sort of a compensation. A dark, twisted way of evening the playing field so to speak. He can have her body, do things to her—with her that I simply can't. Thus she'll share a thing here or there, often small to reach a level of intimacy with me that she doesn't allow him.
Shifting in the chair, folding my left leg over my right not caring how much my skirt slides up my eyes dance across the white, diamond shaped, pattern on the floor up onto Bo. There is no doubt now, she is flirting with this desk clerk. There was absolutely no doubt about it, she was giggling. It was hard enough to get her to laugh lately but to giggle-I sigh again and tilt my head to the left and then the right trying to relieve the building tension in my neck.
It really was rare recently to get her to laugh, I mean really laugh. Not her fake laugh where she was trying to appease someone but really laugh. It was also a growing rarity to see her smile, God I love her smile. When she flashes me one, a real smile, it can mean so much. It can wash away the hurt of the day, it can tell me everything is going to be okay. Ridiculous I know but it can. It was a sweet, subtle smile that convinced me without a doubt I was in love with her, and everyone after just seems to reaffirm it.
Occasionally I feel it goes both ways, I think it is her silent, unspoken way of saying she loves me the same way I love her.
Honestly there have been a million and one tiny things that I see that 'convince' me that she loves me the same way I love her. The looks, the smiles—the touches. I'm not even so much speaking about the touching that leads into something—no most of our touching is because we need to for one reason or another. Normally it's quick and pointless or it's a way of alerting the other to something or any combination of the three but it's rarely ever just for the act itself unfortunately.
Sometimes it's under less lax situations, it's under situations that I wish didn't occur. Sometimes it's a touch to make sure she is okay after something has happen, case in point after our last case when a seven year old girl died in her arms. I didn't know what to say and she was far too broken to speak so I just rested my hand atop of her's and hopped she got the meaning of my unspoken words. The words that were supposed to say 'you're safe' and 'I'm here for you'.
Sometimes I wish for us to be able to speak to each like normal, healthy, mature adults would and other times I'm thankful we have the type of relationship that doesn't always require words. Most times if she did speak she would just give me the 'I'm fine' in which I would know she wasn't and I would either try and push it and make the situation worse or I would fall silent and sulk on the fact that she didn't trust me enough to open up.
It's an immature, illogical way of thinking about things but then again I have a tendency to forget I am a thirty-three year old woman who happens to also be a well traveled doctor and occasional profiler slash therapist—who is also enslaved. Seems like a lot to forget but when I'm with her somehow it all drifts away and I'm nothing more than a woman in love.
"Ready?"
I hear her voice and it startles me, I'm sure I jumped but she says nothing instead she just gives me this hesitant smile and waits for me to stand. She reaches for my over-the-shoulder carryall but I politely rebuff the action. I know she isn't happy about it by the way her eyes do their little twitch thing they occasionally do when she's upset about something but won't say it. I feel bad for a moment, until we're walking past the desk to the elevator and I see the girl flash her a smile—then the guilt is gone.
All the way until the sixth floor we remained silent, I stood just two steps in front of her and I know she is giving me these big, sad, puppy dog eyes and I'm even sure she opens her mouth once or twice to speak but she doesn't.
When the doors finally open I lead the way down the hall, my security card tightly being gripped out of frustration. I hadn't said anything nor would I now but I was happy we were finally at a place which had key cards rather than bent, metal keys or simply no key at all in which I was forced to push the nightstand against the door each night.
Hale may have been dancing on the line of counterproductive but he made sure that we had separate rooms, probably for the best. I walk to my door and ready to swipe the card so much as without saying a word to her but my weakness gets the best of me.
Holding the card above the lock I steal an 'innocent' glance at her which I sort of regret considering how indescribably hurt she looks. I can't help but feel like an ass, after all what was I doing? Using silence to deliberately make her feel guilty over something-over nothing? Despite how much I wish this wasn't true she wasn't my girlfriend. She could flirt with whoever she wanted to, who was I to act like a petulant child because I refused to voice my feelings.
"Well I guess this is it," she almost whispers with a soft, guilt ridden smile. "Sweet dreams,"
Before my mouth has a chance to catch up to my mind she is already disappeared behind the door. The sound of the lock echoing in the empty hall dealing perhaps the toughest blow of the nights events. I just stand here for a moment contemplating whether or not to knock on the door and give her a proper apology but what would I say? I'm sorry I can't admit what you mean to me? I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled child because I was jealous? Jealous over some teenage girl who we will never see beyond tomorrow morning.
Shaking my head at myself I finally enter my own room, no sense in standing in the hall all night. The room itself was the nicest of all the ones we've stayed at throughout our field-trips. It was spacious, elegant, rich—a doubled door entrance out onto a terrace which would most likely look over the swimming pool which was decommissioned at the moment due to the weather but on a regular day it would be a perfect romantic get away.
Smirking to myself I set my bag down on the desk and shuffle through to find my gray sweats, and white tee-shirt. Bo never believed I even owned sweat pants until this string of trips, I'm not sure what she thought I slept in but she was quite amused by the fact. Truth was I didn't care much for them but I cared even less for pajama pants and I wasn't the type to sleep nude—unless I found myself in bed with Bo, but none the less normally I was only left with only one choice. They are quite comfortable if I was to be honest, but they did nothing for me. I don't have Bo's curves so they are far less flattering on me, although I suppose I shouldn't care much about that since I'm supposed to be going to sleep.
The second my body hits the mattress I find myself sitting right back up and grabbing the menu from the nightstand. I wasn't particularly hungry but what better peace offering than food. I look over my options and wonder what would be the best option. I could go with actual food or I could go with strawberries and champagne—I'm not that daring.
Picking up the phone listening to the four rings before someone picks up, I'm intending to order myself and her a grilled chicken sandwich without tomatoes but what comes out is a request for champagne, two chilled glasses and a single rose. When I hang up the phone I find myself just staring at it for a good three minutes or so trying to figure out if I had really just said that. Champagne and a single rose? What was I, Don Juan?
Shaking my head at myself I reach for the phone to make an actual normal person order but I hear the knock at the door. Silently cursing to myself I take a deep breath and answer it, guess it was longer than three minutes. I sign the slip and I know I'm blushing, I can feel the heat in my cheeks and the way the guy is smirking just reaffirms it. I close the door setting the stuff on the desk and I find myself staring down at it again starting to debate with myself once again.
Chuckling to myself I run my hand through my hair before scooping the objects back up and prepare to make a fool of myself. I knock on her door twice and wait patiently, I wouldn't blame her if she didn't answer but she does after a good minute.
I did have a cute antidote to ease the tension but at the sight before me my mind goes blank—well not necessary blank so much as highly inappropriate. She is standing there with her sexy scowl, her hair still dripping wet, her body covered in nothing more than her black, sheer, silk robe which cover far less than it showed.
"Hey," she says softly. "Sorry, I was just freshening up before bed."
I know she is speaking, I know she is wondering what I'm doing, I know I should speak but all I can focus on is the fact that she is wearing nothing underneath her robe and the material is doing nothing at all to hide that fact.
"I was thirsty," I shyly chuckle out fighting the urge to roll my eyes at myself. I've never been a wordsmith but this was ridiculous.
"Come in," she nods hesitantly and steps aside. I feel her eyes moving up and down over my body intently but it's more about trying to figure out what I'm doing rather than the way I was looking at her. "I guess I'll just go put some clothes back on," she sounds slightly irritated and my first thought was to yell out 'God No' but I just smile as I make my way to her bed.
"You," it comes out as I set the glasses and champagne on the nightstand and then the rose before turning back around face her.
"What?" she asks through a gentle smile and take two steps toward me to match my one.
"Um,"
My thoughts were too jumbled to form actual words so that was all that came out. Instead of trying to unskillfully talk my way through this I reach out for her. I don't know what I was reaching for? Maybe it was just an action to get her to stop—like a jester. Maybe I was going for her shoulder just to—oh hell I don't know. Either way whatever I was reaching for didn't matter considering she instinctively reached out for me as well.
There was a brief awkward fumbling as our hands found one another, our fingers effortlessly lacing themselves together as if they were supposed to be this way all along. My breath hitches as my heart begins to speed to dangerous new levels. It had been so long since we touched like this, with this level of intimacy. The last time was a quick, forceful kiss in that hall with everyone watching us—a kiss that was supposed to be a goodbye if need be.
I squeeze her hand just hard enough to try and make her understand what I was saying without saying it aloud. I started to say her name but found myself stopping once again. I have no idea what to say, have no idea what I even wanted to say. Sure I could say what I felt. Sorry, guilty, ashamed, embarrassed—turned on. Swallowing at the dryness in my throat I try to push the last thought from my mind but the feel of her soft, damp skin against mine makes it near impossible.
"Lauren," my name rolls off her tongue and it sends shivers down my spine. My free hand goes to her cheek, the tip of my thumb resting over her lips. It was a miscalculated movement I only intended to cup her cheek but I didn't pull away I just waited.
Half of me expected for her to jump at the chance to send this speeding down the track of inhibitions, expecting her to part her lips and run the tip of her tongue along the length of my thumb, she had done it both times we had found ourselves in bed together but she didn't. Instead she nuzzled against my hand allowing me to slide my hand back just enough to intensify the intimacy. I just watch her in awe not quite sure what she was thinking. She nuzzles once more against my hand before tilting her head just a bit so her lips lightly rested against my palm, her eyes never once leaving mine. There is so much warmth behind them, there is lust I know that—I can see it rising like a tide but what I find myself stuck on is the love I see.
I go to debate whether or not it would be smart to cross this line that we had been tip-toeing around for weeks. But I found myself lacking the the desire to debate it. I wanted to touch her—really touch her. I wanted to hold her and caress her and kiss her and love her.
I wanted her.
Like an answer to a prayer I hadn't yet said she lets go of my hand and wrapped it around the curve of my waist before pulling me against her body, my arms leaving their previous tasks as they wrap around her body. Nearly the second I find myself in her strong embrace I feel my body relax. There was just something about her touch, the feel of her body, the sweet familiar smell oh her that made me weak. It was exciting, exhilarating yet soothing all at the same time.
For a moment she just holds me close and the world seems to slow until there is nothing but me and her. The sound of the violent raindrops beating against the glass hushed, the chill in the air was replaced with a wave of warmth. Everything just drifted away except for her.
My eyes slowly dance over her flawless features till they rest on her lips and I'm suddenly very aware of how close we are. How easy it would be to kiss her, to throw caution to the wind just one more time.
Inhaling sharply I lean forward closing what little space there was between us brushing my lips against hers.
Without hesitation she reacts but once gentle nature falters slightly. She doesn't tease as I had started to, no she kisses me back hard, almost brutal, crushing my lips against her own. Instinctively I opened my mouth allowing her, her wish. I can't help the way I moan into her mouth, the feeling of her lounge darting between my lips causing a wave of pleasure I wasn't quite ready for.
My hands start to fumble around her waist searching for the tie that was keeping her robe closed, the urge to feel more, see more quickly taking over. It didn't take but moments for me to respond to her leading nature of the kiss. Her hands leaving my hips only to occupy themselves in my hair pulling me closer, allowing me to freely explore the familiar yet fascinating inside of her mouth freely. Tilting my head back slightly just enough to nip at her bottom lip earning a soft whimper. She was always a sucker for a little roughness though she tried to hide it from me. Smirking to myself I repeat my previous action earning the same result.
Though my smirk quickly faded as her hands left my hair to cover my own at her waist. Reluctantly I begin to pull back assuming she was stopping me from furthering this. I had to admit I was more than a little surprised but then again I understood. Better than understanding, I knew why. There were a million and one reasons why we shouldn't go through with this. And I knew that she was going to pick one and spout it off to me doing what I would normally do. But she wasn't stopping me, at least not the way I was thinking. Her hands undid the tie seemingly effortlessly allowing it to fall open all the while her eyes never left mine. A smug smile crossing her lips.
"Seemed as though you needed some assistance doctor," she whispers huskily, her tone riddled with desire.
"I was perfectly fine," I say half consciously, my mind trying to process too many things at once. "But I appreciate the concern," I smirk before finally tearing my eyes from hers and letting them dance over her form. The already compromising robe fell open just enough for me to see the swell of her breasts, her nipples peeking out, pink and round, the tips hard. Her stomach tight and flat, just as I had remembered it to be.
She was incredible. Beyond incredible in fact, even with all my fancy terms and definitions none would be enough to accurately describe just how perfect she was. And now somehow she was offering herself to me. Without hesitation. Without shame. Without reservation.
It was an interesting thought, and intoxicating one. Yes she was a succubus and the idea of her plus sex was really a no-brainer but in reality she never went all the way when she fed. No, there was touching light foreplay—just enough to make me sick to my stomach but she never went all the way. Her subtle way of having some control over what she was. Her way of showing despite her nature, she was still in control. Yet here she was, this beautiful and flawless creature-woman completely surrendering to me.
Swallowing hard, I reach out one hand and touch her tensed chin, letting my fingers trail down the curve of her neck, over her collar bone trialing down between her breasts, over her stomach, stopping just above the juncture between her legs. I could hear her draw in a sharp breath which masked a moan. God the sound of her moan was enough to drive you made alone and boy was she a moaner.
"Lauren," she breathed and all I could do was nod and pretend to be completely focused on her words and not what I wanted to do to her. "Lauren,"
"Hm?"
"Lauren," her tone hardens just a bit causing my hand to slide back up to her hip, my eyes shifting to meet hers.
"Do you not want-"
"No!" she chuckles softly, the tops of her checks beginning to redden. "I mean no," her tone dropping another octave. "I want—I really, really want."
"Mm," I can't help the smile that takes over my face. "Then what is it baby?" I didn't mean to call her baby, it wasn't even a term I really used but for some reason I used it whenever I could with her and that just happened to be moments like this.
"I really like the sound of that," she smiles her hand balled in a lose fist, the back of her fingers gently running over my check before opening up as it found a home on the curve of my neck. Her fingertip tickling the back of my neck but instead of laughing I find another chill shooting down my spine to meet the boiling heat resonating in the pit of my stomach.
"Me too," I lean into her touch and for a moment I think this is where we're stopping. There is a completely different feel now and I can't exactly tell what she is thinking. I know from the look in her eyes, the sounds shes made, how she moves that she wants this yet she is pulling us to a stop.
"Lauren,"
"You know you're usually moaning when you say my name this much,"
"Make love to me," she says it softly, almost embarrassed. Her eyes drop to the floor and then back up to mine as if she is scared of my answer. I want to laugh and say of course but there is something about her that is different. There is something telling me she isn't using that select term to be polite. Something is telling me she actually means those words, words I don't think she has ever spoken—not in this context.
I just nod with a smile wishing she'd understood that to me every time we've been together it's been making-love. Maybe not in the literal sense of soft and slow and caring and tender—but there was always love behind every kiss, every touch, every moan—there was always love. She maneuvers us so she is now the one with her back to the bed before taking several steps back and sitting. Her robe still teasingly open, teasing her body that was so warm and inviting-waiting for me. My eyes keep locked with hers as I quickly slip free from my clothes.
"You're so beautiful," she whispers her thought aloud as her eyes dance over my body with an unusual warmth.
Reaching out she takes my hand pulling me closer, standing in between her legs looking down at her my hands slide onto her shoulders. Slipping the silky material down her shoulders I let it fall to the mattress not bothering with it any further than that. Sliding up further onto the bed she waited for me to follow, she didn't have to wait long.
Every inch of her body was pressed up against mine, her arms lazily wrapped around my neck. I held her close, relishing how she felt. Relishing the fact that she for tonight she was all mine. I could feel every inch of her skin. Feel every tremble she made. Hear every moan, every breath, every word she spoke. For now there was only us. My eyes have somehow managed to never leave her own through this all, yet this was the first time I truly realized the intensity of it all.
This couldn't possibly be real. But the sound of her whispering my name tells me it is.
The feel of her body beneath me is slowly driving me insane. The feeling of every muscle, taut, tense and straining, just as her self control was. A tiny shudder went through me as I realized what was about to happen. Pulling back from our embrace just a bit giving me enough leverage to lean down without resting too much weight on her. Covering her lips with my own initiating another kiss though this one remained soft and slow. Remaining as gentle as possible I push my tongue into her mouth, exploring, savoring the taste.
After an eternity that wasn't quite long enough we break for air, but I don't need my hands to breath. Shifting my weight adequately I run my hand down over her body slowly, teasingly. Finger tips tracing her collarbone down her chest until I reach her first set of curves. I make sure to weigh my touch when cupping her breast My thumb brushing over her nipple lightly earning a gasp that sent waves of arousal coursing through my body, specifically adding to the already unbearable tension between my thighs. The new wave of welcomed discomfort causing me to shift once more atop of her, this earning a moan. Taking pleasure in it all I did it again, this time letting my thumb tease her nipple a bit more now. Gentle didn't mean no teasing after all. Doing it once more adding more pressure she moaned once again softly only this time my astonishment was less, while I found my arousal quickly growing.
Leaning down my lips find her neck, her throat, the curve of her shoulder before sliding down to kiss the space between her breasts. Kissing up the curve of her left breast earns me more than soft moan. Lazily I traced circles with my tongue along the outer edges of her nipples. I wasn't quite touching them, not yet anyway. Smiling to myself I close my eyes as she laces her fingers in my hair. Teasing her this way idly for several minutes sliding between each one until I was sure she thought she knew what I was going to do when my mouth returned to where it had started. Without warning, I felt my mouth closed over her nipple tugging gently, insistently.
"Lauren," she called out, hands tensing as she pushed my head down.
Pulling the nipple into my mouth, sucking on it gently, tongue occasionally reaching out to flick gently over the very tip of it. Her hands clutching my head tighter now. But it didn't hurt, nor did it detour me in fact it made me want more. Leaving this one I moved back to the other giving it the same treatment until her sporadic moans were a steady flow. Never did I like my name more than when it was being moaned by this woman. Lifting my head despite her hold, eyes opening to look up into hers.
"You're amazing," she says breathlessly and any other time I would have blushed, would have shrugged off the complement but this time I just smiled before dipping my head back down to resume my journey.
A trail of opened mouth kisses down her stomach earning a new tremble with every one. I didn't make it just one kiss below her belly button when I found her eagerly scooting up the bed allowing me to better adjust myself between her legs. Looking up for a moment I see her pressing her head against the pillow, eyes tightly shut, body trembling with anticipation. I couldn't help but smirk at the wave of pride, the way she was reacting to the mere anticipation—the memory of just the few times before.
Leaning down further to place light kisses along the inside of her thigh. I lifted her legs up just enough so I could slip my arms under her knees, hand gripping the tops of her thighs. The feel of her legs trembling made me remember just how aroused I was myself. Reaching my hand over her thigh using my fingers to open her lips wide so that I had full, unblocked access. Unable to deny her or even myself any longer I give in. She cries my name out sharply, twisting against my hold as my lips covered her, my tongue sliding over her in one smooth motion. My grip tighten as my tongue slipped over her again, from bottom to top, lingering teasingly there at the top, as she moaned out for more. Apparently the feeling of my mouth, tongue, wet and hot, rhythmical stroking her like this was becoming too much as she continued to fight against my hold. Her body arching up forcing more of herself into my mouth.
She sounded unbelievable. She tasted unbelievable. She was unbelievable.
I let my tongue dart over her once again, and made sure to flick it over the very center of her. She clutched at my head tighter and I heard my name once more that sounded more like a desperate whimper, a plea for more than anything. Reluctantly, I tore my hungry mouth away, and she opened her eyes for the first time since I had started. I lifted myself back up and moved so that I was once again hovering over her withering body. I wanted to bring her to the edge that way, to taste her as she came. But she had asked me to make love to her and this wasn't what she had meant by that.
"Baby," I whisper out but she doesn't speak, she doesn't even bother to open her eyes as she leans up and kisses me. I traced my free hand over her, my fingertips at the slender curve of her stomach, urging her body up closer to mine. My eyes steal another glance down at her body but when I look back up I find her eyes staring back up into mine. They're heavy and dark, far darker than I had ever seen them before. I wanted to find the right words to tell her exactly how beautiful she was. How incredible I found her to be. Just how in love with her I was. But instead of words I keep my eyes locked with hers, my thigh pressing firmly against her as her legs tighten around my body the best they can. A smile followed by a soft moan escaped me at the sight of how she bit her bottom lip when I pressed down harder.
"Lauren," she moans breathlessly each time a little louder, a little harsher. She's watching me carefully, intently trying to urge me with my eyes to go faster-harder. She thinks I don't realize it—-I do, but she is going to have to wait. Keeping the same rhythm I know is driving her insane but she manages to keep composer—-for a bit.
Her hands leave the small of my back to grab my shoulders and squeeze tightly, I'm sure she has broken skin but none the less it earns a moan from us both. But most of all it earns her catching me off guard just enough to flip me over onto my back, with her atop of me our legs still tightly intertwined. I shift slightly, trying to get used to this position. Trying to get use to her dictating our movements and God was that hard to do. I moan her name aloud, my eyes closing as I push my head back against the mattress. The things this woman could do with her body were beyond believable.
"Lauren, look at me." she whispers. It's a polite command but a command none the less—one I follow.
Forcing my eyes open I find myself once again staring into hers, knowing I get the point not to look away her hands grip my shoulders as she arches her back up and presses her lower weight down harder but not faster. She repeats this same rhythm until it hurts but it's a pain I'd happily die feeling.
Continuing to move my hands leave her sides to seek her breasts once again. She gasps as my fingers traced over the nipples, teasing them, making them harder than they already were. Releasing my hold my hands return to her hips needing to hold her. The sound of our overlapping moans echoing through the room. I can't help but push her weight down as I arch up. Every muscle aches now but in moments, just a few more skillful movements and the pain would be far from my mind.
But she surprises me once again, she manages to slid her hand between us as she lowers her body closer to mine. Her fingers quickly search amongst a mixture of wetness for what would bring me-bring us over the edge. And she found it.
Her fingers slid inside of me as she moved her hips just twice more before I found myself screaming out her name. Her voice following closely behind. For several minutes neither of us moved a muscle we just stared into each others eyes letting all those unspoken words remain unspoken. And then finally she removes her hand as she clapses atop of me. Her face burred in the crook of my neck, soft innocent kisses tickling me but instead of laughing I kiss her shoulder and hold her body close.
"You're so amazing," she mumbles softly against my skin after several minutes of silence, her voice startling me since I had thought she drifted off long ago.
"I should be saying that too you," I smile against her shoulder, idly continuing to stroke her hair.
"No," she pulls back abruptly just enough so I can see her face. "I don't mean just this Lauren—I mean everything-you're so amazing to me. How you can handle everything so effortlessly. How you can remain so calm and collected through it all. How I know I can always depend on you no matter what,"
"It's nothing amazing Bo," I whisper catching myself from calling her baby. "I just want to be someone you can count on, someone you can trust."
"I do trust you,"
"I know," I smile softly up at her.
"God, how can you do that." she rolls her eyes and giggles as her cheeks begin to redden once again.
"Do what?" "Look at me like I'm the only thing you can see, like I'm something that beautiful,"
"You are," I say as serious as I can manage given our situation, given my body's near euphoric state.
"Right," she rolls her eyes again and gives me that playful smile of hers which would normally make me want to kiss her.
"I've been around quite a bit Bo, I've seen amazing things. Some Fae, some man made some nature made but none of them even combined compares to what I see when I look at you,"
"You've already got me Doc, no need to work so hard." she smirks as she leans down capturing my lips with her own deepening the kiss just enough to get the point to leave this alone.
So I do.
When we break apart this time, I lean up and give her a playful peck before running my hands up and down her back to sooth her. She just smiles softly through a yawn before she begins to settle back down. Her face nuzzling back into the crook of my neck, her arms wrapped tightly around me the best she can manage. Her body pressing against my so tight it could be considered dead-weighting but I welcome it, all of it.
Tonight—now we play a couple and when we wake we'll go back to being whatever it is we really are. We'll exchange secret looks and steal touches. We'll continue to keep our feelings like our desires unspoken. We'll fall back into our dance of insanity.
But right now she was laying in my arms finding comfort in me and that was all I wanted to think about. The smell of her hair, of her skin. The many tastes of her body still fresh in my mouth, on my lips.
The memory of the love in her eyes still fresh in my mind.
Everything else, all of those unspoken words would have to wait just a little longer.