Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine.
So, it's finally here! I know it's juuuust on the edge of the deadline I set, but I got distracted by coming home and holiday stuff, so... Anyway, I hope this sates your huger for something a bit jucier! It's not extremely explicit, because I wholeheartedly believe that certain things should be left to the imagination, and that discretion ultimately prevails. With that said, I hope I included enough racy fodder to make it worth the wait =D Please review if you read; criticism and complements will go towards further endeavors, so you're only benefiting yourselves!
As always, enjoy!
Paton's eyes were nearly pitch black, his pupils dilated to the point where they blended seamlessly with the sable of his irises. He held Julia's wrists gently in his hands, pressing her hands back against the countertop and curling his long frame around her body, encompassing her physical and emotional being in a single motion.
"I'll only say it once," he whispered, "so listen closely." His tongue flickered out to wet his lips, and his teeth flashed in a slow smile. "All I want for Christmas," he said slowly, so softly that her ears strained to hear his words even with him so close, "is you."
Julia's heart beat wildly in her chest, both from his close proximity and the words themselves. The way he could take a single gesture or phrase and instill so much meaning, imbibe it with so much meaning and emotion and passion—it left her breathless every time. "Me?" she murmured, looking up into his intense gaze, the earnestness of her words fractured by the desire that laced her voice. "But you already have me."
"Right where I want you," Paton murmured, his thumbs tracing over the veins in her wrists.
At his words, as the pads of his thumbs trailed ever so lightly across her skin, Julia shivered, the low tenor of his voice and his gentle caress sending thrills of anticipation racing down her spine.
"Well," he amended, leveling a sidelong glance at her clothing, "perhaps not entirely where I want you." His meaning could not be clearer; held enthralled by him though she was, Julia could not help but marvel at his transition from the mawkish, shy Paton who had first walked through her door.
She wasn't doing him justice with such stereotyping, of course; that Paton still remained, was practically the only version that everyone else knew and saw. He hid his passionate side well, disguising it behind layers and layers of etiquette and propriety. He believed in those things, believed wholeheartedly in holding the door and ladies first and all of those outdated mantras that modern women seemed to find so irritation, but when he was with her…when Paton was alone with Julia, and the situation was right, he became an entirely different person.
With this delightful, flattering, sensual thought playing through her mind, Julia slowly took first one, then another step away from the counter, setting a slow, deliberate pace across the room. She led him up the stairs, drawing him along by his grip on her wrists. "If that's the case," she remarked, her words rich and honeyed, "would you care to unwrap your present?"
Her eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the candles set around the kitchen, drawing him into their brown depths. Paton was lost, drowning amid a sea of sienna, sinking further and further into the hazy realm of aching desire and love.
Stooping abruptly, he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, feeling the fluttering of her pulse point against his lips. "Yes," he rumbled, "I would like that very much." So saying, he swept her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style up the stairs to their room and depositing her on the bed.
Julia laid back against the pillows, lazily watching Paton light the myriad of candles that dotted the room, a lioness basking in the glow of her den.
As the last candle flickered into being, Paton strode over to the bed and stood at its head, contemplating the beautiful being who sat on the sheets. Her hair was in disarray, all but out of its normally immaculate bun, tumbling down around her shoulders to frame her face with thick, cascading waves of chestnut.
His hands found their way into those curls, fingers threading between them and massaging her scalp. He smiled as Julia, all but purring with contentment, leaned her head into his caress, her eyes heavy and half-lidded.
Dropping his hands to her shoulders, he held her tightly, working his mouth over hers. Slipping lower, his hands ghosted across her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, coming to rest at her shirt hem, fingers curling under the pressed fabric to dance across her belly.
Julia was awash with sensation, shivering from the cold touch of Paton's fingers on her flaming skin, twining her fingers into his shaggy hair to pull his mouth closer. Her lips tingled from the pressure, throbbing with each pulse of her heart.
Walking his hands up her shirt, he attacked the line of buttons one by one, deftly flicking them open with a casual twist of thumb and forefinger. "There's one layer of wrapping," he murmured, drawing back to admire the results of his effort. With the loose strands of hair falling around her face in thick coils and her blouse hanging open and half off of her shoulders, Julia was the very picture of desire.
Eyes growing dark, Paton leaned in to her mouth. "I love you," he murmured, taking her swollen lower lip between his teeth, playfully running his tongue cross the raw skin. They did not speak for a long moment, allowing their mouths and hands to express what words could not.
Moving her head out of range, Julia took a long look at her husband, drinking in the sight of his mussed hair and rumpled clothes, his pale skin flushed with desire—desire for her, she thought with a thrill. Lying back on the bed, she pulled him with her so that he lay with his back flat against the sheets. She shifted so that she knelt above him, an amused smile spreading across her face.
"My turn, then," she declared, turning deft fingers to his own set of buttons, making quick work of the fabric that sheltered his pale torso from the world. The shirt she flung carelessly into the corner, discarding it once she had freed it from his body.
Kneeling on the bed, she sat back on her heels and admired her handiwork, her own unbuttoned shirt temporarily forgotten, still temptingly hanging open.
Paton's naturally lean frame, coupled with decades as a runner, had sculpted his muscles well, and his shirtless torso was always a sight Julia never failed to enjoy. She rested her hands on his shoulders, fingertips dancing across his well-defined deltoids, slowly sliding her palms down along his chest, tracing the contours of his pectoral and abdominal muscles.
A thin layer of gooseflesh speckled his skin at her touch, and she paused in her caresses. "Are you cold?" she asked, a twinge of amusement flickering through her words.
"A little," he replied, voice husky and mischievous.
Her hands dipped lower, following the slight trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his pants, and he groaned, his breath quickening. "Julia…" The words were a warning as well as a plea.
Smiling wickedly, Julia planted her hands on either side of his head and lowered her face down to his. "Yes, love?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and flashing a coquettish smile.
He growled and lifted his head, closing the scant inches that separated them, claiming her lips as his own and thrusting his tongue into her mouth, running it over her teeth and twining it about her own. With a quick twist, he reversed their positions, flipping her on her back and pinning her to the bed with his body.
She squirmed beneath him, grinding her body against his, feeling his obvious reaction to her advances. It gave her no small amount of pleasure that this man for whom she had so much respect, so much love and admiration and desire, was so aroused by her.
Paton was overwhelmed by his desire for her, immersed in the silken smoothness of her skin beneath his hands. Adroit fingers curled around her back, found the clasp of her bra and made short work of unhooking it and disposing of it. His hands traveled to her neck, trailing fingers down her throat, passing over her shoulders down to the deliciously firm mounds of her breasts. He curled his hands around them, cupping them lightly in his palms, pads of his fingers just grazing the tender skin.
Julia moaned, arching her body and bringing herself as close to his touch as possible, forcing her mouth against his with increasingly firm intensity. Eyes fluttering and half-lidded, she drove herself up against his body, seeking the relief for which she so desired.
Fingers dancing across her stomach in a sweeping caress, Paton fisted one hand in her hair, pulling her mouth even closer to his, and directed the other one down to the hem of her pants, unfastening the zipper. He jerked his mouth away from hers, removing her dark trousers and sending them to the floor in a flurry of fabric. They were soon followed by her underwear, the thin slip of material falling to land atop the discarded slacks.
Removing her hands from where they were driven into his back, she made quick work of his own pants and briefs, sending them to keep hers company on the floor.
Their eyes met, passion visibly crackling between them, a bolt of desire connecting brown eyes with black. Paton cupped her face gently in his hands, holding his body above hers, throbbing with the need to merge his body with hers. "I love you," he murmured lowly, before bringing his lips to cover her red mouth and his hips to hers, finally achieving that relief he so sought.
The two became one, joined physically, mentally, and emotionally in a moment of release that surpassed any realm of verbal expression. It was not just the carnal aspect—in their moment of union, they ceased to be two people in love and lust, their separate identities merging even as Paton sought his release inside of Julia.
They moved in unison, following the steps of a well-familiar dance, neither one the established leader. Paton and Julia, Julia and Paton—they were a pair, a partnership and love beyond that of all others, comparable to those of myth and legend.
As they hit their releases, nearly in tandem, the shuddered and sagged against one another, hearts pounding and skin slicked with sweat.
Julia looked up at Paton with glassy umber eyes, breath coming in short, unsteady gasps. "I love you," she breathed, reaching a trembling hand up to tuck a strand of sweat-soaked hair behind his ear.
"And I you," Paton replied, moving so that he lay beside her.
For a moment, they just lay in silence, lost in reflection and overwhelming euphoria, overwhelmed by love for the other. There was something serene in this moment following such an outburst of passion, a sort of sanguinity that settled in following the satiating of more animalistic urges.
Rolling over on his side, Paton looked at the beautiful woman beside him, feeling a swelling sense of accomplishment as he observed her flushed skin and exhausted form, as he took in the look of utter contentment that she wore. "Next year," he whispered, drawing her close, a satisfied smile playing on his lips, "I want a bow."
Julia murmured her assent and nestled her head into the crook of his neck, snuggling in beside him.
Drawing his arms around her, he placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and lay back against the pillows, grinning like a fool.
"Only a bow."
And that's a wrap =D Comments and critiques?