Pairing: Havoc/Ross
Warnings: Sex. Not graphic, but it's there. Also, the misuse of office furniture.
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. Need I say more?
A/N: Un-beta'd. Feedback rocks my world.
Maria Ross has a weakness for charming men.
And, she will admit, blondes.
She doesn't mind flattery, and she'd never say no to flowers. She blushes when someone chats her up, and she likes it when a man puts a bit of effort into his appearance. (A little cologne never hurts, either.)
Maybe, she thinks, this is why she finds herself in the chair behind the Colonel's desk after hours, rocking and grinding desperately against Second Lt. Jean Havoc. She's become a victim of his odd, endearing charm - though she doubts she's anything like the sort of girl he was trying to snare.
She bites her lip to muffle her cries, breathing harshly, and she can see sweat beading on Havoc's forehead, can feel his heart beating wildly beneath her palm.
It's like nothing she would have thought - not with him.
The growing ache she feels increases tenfold, and suddenly none of it is enough. She wants more - needs it. Harder, faster, she thinks, and her lust-addled mind can't be sure if she's said it out loud or not.
A month ago, she'd never have thought she'd be here, arching her back, with Havoc's hands on her hips keeping her steady. She'd never have imagined being so mesmerised by Havoc's tongue snaking out to catch the droplet of sweat on his upper lip that she lets out a small moan.
She slams herself down onto him, fiercly crashing her mouth into his as their bodies collide once more in a wave of white-hot sparks, cascading down into oblivion.
It's like being in a train wreck, and she can't get enough.