Dinner and a Show
Roy likes to play with his food.
Roy's first date with Riza – his first real date, as a publicly recognized couple, and not as two friends having a night out together – went amazingly well. In fact, Roy might have said it was one of the best nights of his life. He took her for dinner and dancing at one of Central's most posh (and exclusive) nightclubs. The meal was amazing (crisp salad and savory soup, flaky fish and creamy potatoes, and the most amazing chocolate custard, each paired with a beautiful wine), and he enjoyed dancing with her more than he'd ever thought it was possible to enjoy dancing (the way his hand fit into the small of her back, the feel of her fingers curled around his, the smell of her perfume, and the way she smiled up at him as they swayed). She learned quickly, and they were both more than a little drunk, and they spent the night twirling and dipping and laughing.
He walked her home, her arm tucked carefully through his. They leaned heavily against eachother, taking slow steps, watching silently as the eastern horizon began to lighten and the stars began to fade. The sky was nearly light when they helped eachother up the steps to her apartment. She fished her keys out of her tiny little handbag, and fiddled with them for a few moments, looking at the floor as she searched for the right words to convey how completely perfect the night had been. Roy waited, hand in his pockets, puzzling over the exact same thing.
Riza beat him to the punch. She didn't say anything, but when he opened his mouth to break the silence, she stepped up to him, brought her free hand up to the back of his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss. Her mouth was soft and pliant under his, her palm warm and her fingers cool. The heat of her body, so close they were almost touching, was scorching. She tasted like wine and chocolate.
"Come inside," she breathed, breaking from the kiss and pressing her forehead against his.
Roy thought, very briefly, about protesting. It was so late that it was early, they were both exhausted, and he was afraid of ruining a perfect evening. Every minute he spent with her brought him another opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, and he wanted this night to go down in their history as one of the best they had ever spent together.
Then she wrapped her other arm around his shoulders and rose on tiptoe to press herself flush against him from shoulders to knees. He could feel every dip and swell and curve lying beneath the soft, pale green silk of her cocktail dress. She didn't kiss him. She didn't even move, except to tilt her chin and lay her cheek against his. Her lips moved against his ear.
"Please," she murmured, her breath warming the sensitive skin. Somehow it came out as more of a command than a plea.
Roy felt the first stirrings of arousal rumbling around in his belly, and he nodded, dropping his head to lay a kiss on the side of her neck.
She let go of him with a brilliant smile, and unlocked her apartment door, grabbing his hand to pull him inside with her. She dropped her purse and keys on the sideboard by the door, and removed the light shawl she'd wrapped around her shoulders to keep off the slight chill of the early April night. Roy watched her hungrily for a few moments before shrugging out of his jacket and laying his wallet next to her things on the table. He followed her farther into her tiny home, eyes roving over the line of her shoulders, up her pale neck, to her pretty, blushing face. She was backing toward the couch, opening her arms to him.
Roy went to her, laying his hands on her shoulders as he tilted his head to seal his mouth over hers. He felt her hands, rough with calluses from years of steel and gunpowder, cupping his cheeks, the pads of her thumbs stroking gentle circles against his skin. There was something different in this kiss; something insistent and hungry in the way she moved against him, spinning them around so his back was to the couch, urging him backwards, pushing when his knees hit the edge. He stumbled, exhaling in a rush of air that ruffled her bangs and made her laugh - a deep, throaty sound that set his nerves tingling – and landed heavily in the center of the couch, arms falling instinctively to his sides to brace himself.
When he looked up again, it was to find Riza yanking the pins out of elaborately upswept hair and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor, running her hands through the soft golden waves now falling around her shoulders. His heart leapt into his throat, and the sudden need to have her near him was overwhelming. Three feet away was much too far.
He reached for her, but again she beat him to the punch, grabbing his wrists in rough hands as she climbed into his lap, her dress bunching around her thighs as she straddled his hips, placing his hands low on her back as she leaned in to press a deep kiss to his open mouth. Her fingers danced along his arms, lingering in the crooks of his elbows, tickling the sensitive spots, eliciting a shudder and a breathless laugh from his throat. She skimmed over his shoulders, back and forth across their breadth, before threading her fingers through his hair.
Then she pulled.
Not hard, not enough to hurt, but his scalp tingled and his head tiled back, giving her better access to his mouth. She sucked hungrily on his lower lip, and he jumped when she bit down gently before running her tongue soothingly across the bruised area.
Even more surprising was the realization that he'd never been more turned on in his entire life. She wiggled her hips against his growing erection, and he could feel her smiling against his chin as she sucked and bit and licked her way down his neck, hands still fisted in his hair, pulling him back into place every time he tried to move.
Roy's hands were still free, and they'd found their way to the half-foot of bare skin between the tops of her stockings and the hem of her dress. His fingers skimmed under her hem, kneading the soft, smooth flesh with gentle, steady motions. She let go of his hair with a demanding moan, and curled her fingers around his right hand, moving it to the inside of her thigh, urging him higher as she pressed herself closer. Another quarter of an inch, and he knew his fingertips would be brushing soft satin and knitted lace – and beneath that, coarse golden curls and hot, yielding flesh. He was beginning to ache for want of her
She froze when she felt his fingertips slide beneath her panties, then arched against him as he began to stroke her slick, burning folds. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and she bit her lip, head falling back to bare her neck as he pressed deeper and his thumb found the nub of sensitive flesh that had her shaking and gasping with only a few slow, gentle caresses. He bent to kiss her throat while his fingers went to work, petting and stroking and sinking deeper, coaxing groans and cries and shivers and pleas from Riza's willing body.
His name passed her lips in a breathless moan, and then her hands were back in his hair, pulling painfully as she kissed him. She bit his lip when she came, shaking and shuddering as her teeth broke the skin, and when she slumped against him, panting, he tasted blood.
"Wow," he said with no small amount of genuine awe, then "Ouch!" as she smiled and stretched to kiss him again, suddenly gentle and chaste.
"Sorry," she said softly, still smiling as she began to blush. "I was caught in the moment."
Roy couldn't really claim to mind. A few drops of blood were a small price to pay for the experience he had just shared with her, and he was about to tell her so, but her warm hand on his bulging erection stilled the words in his throat.
"Let me make it up to you," she said in the same low, sultry tone that had lured him into her apartment. She was already sliding backwards off his lap, flushed face smiling coyly as she knelt between his knees and reached for his belt buckle.
Yes, a few drops of blood were a small price to pay.
AN:... I'm sorry.