-1Title: Silhouette
Author: Trialia
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Rating: M
Word Count: 547
Beta: Cara (caramelapples11)
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Spoilers: through Sine Qua Non, though vague
Summary: He loves her like this. Sequel to Homecoming.
xxx
He loves her when she's like this. Loves her every way she is, by now, if he's pressed to admit it. Even the cold, stony silences of a building fight and her passionate, angry tirades when they don't agree on something, though that isn't so common now as it used to be: they're something he grew to appreciate as signs of Laura's still being alive and vital, not having resigned herself to death as she'd done before. They've made him angry and made him ache, but they are all such a part of Laura as a whole woman, and he is for her in every way that it can be said.
The way she is right now, though -- raw heat, sensuality and sex made woman incarnate, with that almost feline smile on her lips... He wants to see her this way a lot more often, and he's willing to go a long way to make that happen.
After what he's just done to get her back, he now knows just how far. He'd die for her, if it meant she could live.
Laura can see it in his eyes when his thoughts turn dark and, lying across him, she decides to do something about it, twisting her hips to press hard against his half-erection.
Jerked out of thought, he groans wordlessly, meeting her eyes and almost pleading for a second. She gives him the same smile and does it again, eyes never leaving his. This time he can't help pushing back against her, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling.
Laura's control is down to a slim, fraying thread; she's wanted this for so damn long she's halfway to climax just from the way it feels to have this much of his naked skin against hers. She's straddling him, now, feeling him hot against her vulva as he grows harder every moment; that, she can also feel, and she begins to stroke herself along and against him, almost without thinking about it. Up, down, up, down and back up, finally taking him inside her and repeating the motion, over and over and over, until her breath is coming in pants and whimpers while one of Bill's hands pressing down on her lower back and his mouth is on her breast, muffling the sounds coming from his own throat.
She can't breathe, can't speak coherent words, can hardly think at all and doesn't care.
Finally.
They don't last long, the first time; they've both been so desperate for this, to make love with each other and for each other and be of each other, for so many weeks and months and years that it can't be long and slow.
She moans his name as he presses up into her, hard, hands gripping her hips tightly enough to bruise, and the teeth he sinks into her neck make her shudder all over; she just can't hold on.
It doesn't matter, though, that it ends quickly; because it matters, and it doesn't end. It won't.
Even when they are lying spent and sated, each still entwined with the other to the point where no one entering the room would know anything less than the truth... it is them. They are together. And that's all that's important, now.
-fin