She comes with the rain. A smattering of lust against his fingertips that coincides with the pounding against the window panes. The heavy downpour paints the glass and he's lost to the eye of the storm.
She's wound tighter than he thinks he's ever seen, a tempest brewing in a teacup of torment. One small release already building into another, her body and breath fighting for oblivion. The drapes are drawn into the room with every inhale, they stutter and hang in anticipation before she breathes out and they flutter loose and free. She shakes, shocked, staring up at him as she bites her lip. It's something else this time around, something new.
The storms coming in hard and fast and with the windows thrown open they feel every shift and change in the air. The atmosphere hums with the pent up aggression of the sky, skitters through the parted glass and coats her body. Static and sexy, strewn with need, she hums now too.
There's a moan tangled up in there somewhere, comes out like a growl just as thunder shakes the sky, the world at large caught up in her pursuit of pleasure, egging her on, speaking for her when she can't find the words to beg. That growl reverberates through the heavens, she shakes, the bed does too and outside the streets are battered by the onslaught.
Her nails dig in and lightning strikes. A sudden flash illuminates the room and he stares down into eyes swirled dark, stormy and magnetic. She's gone again in darkness, consumed by the clouds that roll in, take over. He feels the brush of her fingers over his face, gone too quickly, then reaching for her pillow, an anchor, back arching, skin damp and hot. Her cheeks are flushed, he can feel it against the soft press of his lips when he leans down and kisses her, stroking his tongue over her pulse in time to the movement of his fingers, a silent message, a meaning, a dirty promise that pulls whirlwind reaction.
She throws a leg across his own, curled at her side and gaze an awe-filled cascade downward, he watches. She shakes, close and closer still with each slow rhythmic circle. Sharp snapping, flaring hips seek their own rhythm. Denied, she falls in time with his.
The booming beat of thunder plays out in the background and together they work to keep her dancing, body and hips swaying now, uncontrollably. The windows rattle and she shakes, chest quakes, intent on taking the world with her she throws her head back and yells out.
He hears nothing, silent scream or echoing howl, the storm steals her voice. Waterfalls of tumbling rain leave fighting patterns as they stumble and batter the glass, forced reflections dancing around the room. Light slips and finds itself caught in each droplet, lightning bouncing from wall to wall, throwing flashes of her naked body at him before stealing her away, back into the darkness.
He catches a flare of color, pink and red, dark green, chestnut and gold, all quickly stolen from away by the squall. With the next flash of light he takes his chance and steals a kiss.
Thunder booms again and she nips at his lips, whispers his name so he hears it this time. Her fingers tighten around his wrist but don't pester, don't force change or intercept. Instead she clings, hangs on, enjoys the feel of his muscles taut and working hard for her, however slowly. She strokes the back of his hand, wishes aloud it were something else and he growls, finds that soft spot between neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth in. He sucks, yet doesn't leave a mark, rolls his tongue and threatens until she's pleading that he doesn't, doesn't, doesn't -
The sky roars and her back arches, words lost.
She trails her lip with her tongue, the wet glide and glisten catching in the pale moonlight that just about makes itself known. He slides her leg between his own, curls closer and kisses the shimmering line she leaves behind.
The rains falls harder, and his fingers glide dreamily against her, inspiration like lightning with each strike and stroke, holding her suspended while they kiss. Hard, slow, deep, his tongue once again mimics his fingers and she stutters for breath, kisses him back, fists a hand in his hair and drags him closer.
The low rumble builds in the distance and the desperation mounts between them.
Her breath becomes a pant that ghosts wet lips, she clings but can't find it in herself to kiss him back. She's twisted up, tornado triumph alight just below the surface and with every shudder, every throb, every subtle curl and press of his fingers, she slips closer.
Lightning strikes again, close by, a booming flash bringing them into focus. Their eyes catch, one last circle, plunge, stroke and oh -
oh -
She breaks, staring.
Her focus fades quickly into glassy satisfaction. Each quiver and shake drawing gasps. Hard, rolling hips and pounding heart, her body collapses back and he follows after.
She comes with the rain, a smattering of lust against his fingertips, damp duplicity as the sky rumbles yet again and her body welcomes his.
She comes with the rain, and the storm rolls on.