He stared at her as his fingers continued to work her feet. The way her lips moved as they glided over words. The peeks of her tongue when she'd make specific sounds or needed to lick her lips. Her glasses on the bridge of her nose.
"Oh, I love this one, Billy," she told him, pausing to take a sip of her wine. "O my Luve's like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June: o my Luve's like the melodie, that's sweetly play'd in tune," her voice flitted over the words. He nodded as she glanced at him, a soft smile on his face. God, she was perfect for him. Who else would share the idea of a perfect Saturday night as sitting in, drinking wine, and reading poetry? "As fair art thou, my bonie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry," she continued.
"Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; And I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run." Will spoke the next verse, having memorized it by heart. Mackenzie couldn't help but smirk up at him.
"And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve! And fare-thee-weel, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!" Mac finished, gazing at him in adoration. "Do you pull that out of your ass for all the ladies you're trying to bed?" she then teased him, making him chuckle.
"Hey, I'm allowed to love that poem too, you know, however cliche." he told her, his fingers running up her ankle to the silky soft skin of her calf. She giggled at him as she resituated her feet, moving them from his thigh more into his lap, suddenly gasping at what she found.
"Will!" she squealed, making him turn his eyes up to her in a sheepish response. "Are you hard?" she whispered loudly, covering her smirk with her hand. He blushed, not that he was embarrassed at the fact that he was aroused, but more of the situation that made him so. "Oh my god, you're utterly insatiable." she snorted, unable to keep her smirk hidden.
"There's just something about poetry being read to me by a beautiful woman with a British accent," Will attempted to excuse. She raised her eyebrow at him. "My beautiful woman and fiancé with the adorable, sexy British accent. With her feet in my lap, wearing only my dress shirt she took off me last night, and those legs." he groaned, trying to correct his answer, but her eyebrow only shot up more.
"Adorable and sexy?" she teased him, with a bite of her lip. He groaned in frustration.
"You know, your accent with the little bit of rasp in your voice." he attempted to describe.
"Hmmm." she mused, massaging her foot over him. "And the poetry?"
"And the poetry." he agreed, taking her hand as she held it out for him. She used it to pull herself up, moving her legs to straddle him, making him grunt. "And I like your body." he told her, referring to that poem, his eyes boring into hers, his hands on her hips, her arms around his neck. She smirked at him as she ran a manicured hand from his shoulder down his chest, leaning close to his ear.
"I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing." she began, reciting E. E. Cummings' poem by heart. Will began throbbing. She chose this poem to know by heart, of course he practically laughed. But two could play at this game. He made quick work of the few buttons buttoned on his shirt she donned a few hours ago, and grabbed a hold of her chin, so she'd look in his eyes as she spoke. "Muscles better and nerves more." she sighed, seeing him lick his lips at the confirmed fact she was not wearing a bra. She shivered from his obscene stare at her state that wasn't even obscene yet. He pushed the shirt off her shoulders, her aiding him in shimmying it the rest of the way off.
"Keep going, Mac." he practically challenged. She was never known to back away from a challenge. She pushed his white tshirt up his stomach before he had a chance to move his head to her breasts. "I like your body." she whispered, pulling his shirt up and over his head, before moving her slender fingers down his collarbone, past his chest, then to dance along the muscles in his stomach that were clenching. He pressed his palm against her lower back, pushing her body harder into his, their naked skin pressed together. His lips found her neck, kissing, licking, nipping. Oh, god. Her chest arched into him as response, feeling his hands then glide down to the slope of her back. His hands disappeared under the waistband of her panties, grabbing her ass cheeks in both hands as his lips then moved to where her shoulder and neck conjoined. She felt teeth, and gasped, being thrown into the next line. "I like what it does, I like its hows." she groaned, her voice throaty. Her hands threaded into his blonde hair, her breathing deepened and heady. This was just plain erotic. She could never be like this with anyone else. She was never like this with anyone else. No one but him. He just did this to her, and god!
"I love you." she whimpered, his lips now on her clavicle.
"That's not apart of the poem, Mac." he teased her, moving one of his hands up her spine to remind her. She leaned herself forword, bracing a hand on one of his muscular shoulders.
"I like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling..." her words got higher in octave with each one passing. And fuck, he was kissing down her cleavage now and his fingers were tracing the curve of her spine and, "-firm-smoothness and which I will again and again and again kiss," she groaned. His lips were now brushing against her achingly hard nipple, her breasts automatically thrusting further into his face. Giving her enough to tease, but not near enough to satisfy, his lips left her breasts, and were again ascending back up her chest. "I like kissing this..." His lips were on her jaw and his free hand had just tangled itself in her brunette hair. His eyes forced an electric eye contact between them, hindering her from being able to continue. He stared. Her chest and neck and cheeks flushed red. Her eyelids half closed in lust, her eyes dark from the seduction. And her lips, breath quickly passing in and out, glistening from wetness, slightly parted. He crashed his lips down on her, an indecent moan escaping those lips he was just studying. Wet, sloppy, hot, needy. She was moaning her little moans and letting out her little gasps and Mackenzie fucking McHale was his un-fucking-doing in every single way. He nibbled on her bottom lip in payback. She then pushed her hands hard against his chest, pulling her lips from his, his teeth tugging on her bottom lip just that little bit, making her want to rip her panties off that much more for him. No. She needed to finish what she started. She took a composing breath. "And that of you, I like, slowly stroking the-" her voice was shaking as his hands then grabbed her panties, yanking them down her thighs, as she pressed her face against his neck, bracing herself for what he'd do to her with her next words. "Stroking the shocking fuzz of your electric fur," she sighed, her teeth worrying her lip. His fingers were now dancing in her pubic hair, and ugh! She needed him just a little tad lower. Her lips kissed his neck in retaliation. "And what-is-it comes over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs," she moved a hand to his face and ran the pad of her thumb under his eye, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. She was taking this game back in her hands. She moved her lips to his strong jaw line, kissing, hearing him softly moan. She smirked triumphantly. She moved her lips back to his ear. "And possibly I like the thrill," she lowered her voice a sexy octave, lusty and sexual and the vibrations of her words in his ear traveled right down to his cock. "Of under me you so quite new." she finished, taking his earlobe between her teeth as a punctuation. Chills spread through his body as he groaned loudly. Forcefully grabbing her hips, pushing her off him and onto her back on the couch with a bounce. He grabbed her panties that were mid thigh, pulling them down her sexy legs with her assistance in a fluid motion, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder. She grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him back to her as he dropped his boxers. She pulled him again, making him fall on top of her, her hands immediately cupping his face as her lips attacked hers.
"Oh, Billy." she gasped, her lips swollen and red against his. Her tongue battled his as his hands grasped her hips and she was pretty sure she was about to go into sensual overload. His intoxicating smell that was just him and masculine and sexy invaded her nostrils. The taste of him on her tongue, sweet and decadent and manly and crave worthy. His body was hot and heavy and comforting on top of hers. She thrusted her hips up against his, wanting more-needing more. "Oh, Billy!" she gasped again, her head dropping back, him pushing into her with surprise and ease. His lips were now on her slender neck, having been given the perfect angle. He began his thrusts into her, his fingers making red prints on the skin covering her hips, but he couldn't get the leverage he needed.
"Hold on, Kenz," he grunted, wrapping her arms around his neck before he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Oh!" she gasped again, as he picked her up. Then the next thing she knew, her back was on the hardwood floor and he was back on top of her. Fuck their backs and aching knees and oldness. They needed this much more than they cared about that.
Her hands were pinned above her head by one of his, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body squirming as he pushed deep into her each time with power and an urge. His left hand was grasping her hip hard to keep her in place. He was breathing hard and erratic and beads of sweat were running down his face to his neck to his chest. His hair was untidy and mussed and screamed sex and not Will McAvoy, face of Newsnight. And it was un-fucking-fair that he could be old but still so fucking sexy. She longed to tangle a hand in his golden chest hair and dig her nails into his ass.
"Ugh!" she cried, as he suddenly hit her deep, her back arching off the floor. His lips moved down her cleavage to her quivering stomach, letting her wrists go. She automatically dug her fingernails into his gorgeous ass, helping him thrust into her, his lips now sucking hard on her nipple. "Oh, god." she whimpered, but she needed more of him. "Kiss me, Will." she urged him, desperate for his lips. Fuck, she was close.
"I love you, Mac." he mumbled against her lips. She couldn't help smiling against him. Hearing that would never ever be old. Then she felt his fingers rubbing her clit hard, his thrusts not slowing one bit.
"I'm gonna come," she panted, a hand trailing up his muscular back, feeling the muscles and the sweat.
"Come for me, Mackenzie." he whispered, her name gruff on his lips from his moaning making it ooze with sexy. Then, she was mumbling and moaning his name and profanities and her hips were continuing their dance without much order from her brain, and god he was a god at this. She was there. Fuck, she was there and it felt like fucking bliss. She was coming and coming hard as he continued to move within her, not far behind. With a final hard, deep thrust he was with her, moaning her name, their breathing erratic as he collapsed on top of her.
"That's it, Billy," she cooed, her nails scratching his back soothingly through the lasts of his spasms. She started giggling after she took him in her arms, giving him a long kiss in thanks.
"What?" he managed to ask, his breathing still irregular.
"Only us could turn a night of poetry into something very erotic." she giggled, raking her fingers through his hair. "And I love you a lot." she added, her eyes crinkling in the corners from her smile. He leaned his chin on her, looking up at her with a matching smirk.
"Mmmm..." he spoke, leaning up to kiss her. "I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight." he told her, making her melt.
"Oh, Billy." she sighed once more. God, she loved poetry, and God, she loved her man.
A/N: The poems used were A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, i like my body by E. E. Cummings, and Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Thanks for reading!