So this is a fanfic of a fanfic- all credit to nanniships and the amazing Outside the Lines.
Somehow, their hands had not parted. Quite the opposite, their fingers hand wrapped together. She wasn't sure who had done it, but somehow they were like that. And neither one of them was speaking. Neither one of them was apparently breathing, even. Their breathlessness was mounting to an unbearable pitch, which, she realised, was building as he moved gently towards her. She also realised, a moment later, that he was moving towards her because she was tugging softly on his hand.
The look on his face was one of surprise, humility, a little confusion. But above all, she thought, delight, which he was entirely failing to suppress. She turned away from him, still holding his hand, allowing the smile to beam across her face only briefly and only when she was turned away from him, leading him towards the door and the narrow stairs of the cottage. She could feel the eagerness with which he followed her in the pace of his movements behind her, in the way his hand contracted in hers as she took him up the stairs.
Without saying a word, she naturally led him up to her room. He didn't question this, though his own room was just across the corridor, and the bed was a little bigger. He did not have the look of a man who was about to query the logistics.
She closed the bedroom door gently behind them, turning to face him. They were both still for a moment, watching each other. He was still unsure, she realised, he was still waiting for her. To lead him to her room wasn't enough to convince him. She smiled gently at him, hoping it would reassure him, closing the gap between their bodies and looping her arms gently around his neck. She kissed him on the mouth, this time, not the forehead. Her lips parted in a little smile against his as she heard the soft groan he gave, felt the touch of his hands on her hips. Gently, she allowed her tongue to touch against his lips, silently asking do you believe I want you now?
He groaned again, deeper this time, pulling her closer to him, lifting her a little.
But perhaps his surprise was understandable, she thought, even as she walked with him towards the bed. She had only just realised herself that she wanted him, and how much. Or had it only been tonight that she'd allowed herself to want him? She didn't know. But she did know that she had chosen to bring him here, and that she was glad about it.
They sat side by side on the bed, still kissing one another, her hands cupping his cheeks again, her thumbs gently stroking his face. His hand had raised and was tangling in her hair a little bit, but only very tenderly. She smiled again. She did not think she'd ever kissed a man who made love as carefully as Joseph Molesley did. Or kissed as carefully as he did, because, she reminded herself, even as his hand stroked the length of her thigh, they were not actually making love yet.
But the tenderness of it was palpable, and, she felt- she was certain as his other hand encircled her gently and drew a slow circle with his thumb at the base of her spine- this was the closest to a physical manifestation of love she had come. She thought about him calling this her home just moments ago, and kissed him a little bit harder.
When his mouth left hers, he was definitely breathless.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked her quietly.
"Honestly, no," she replied softly, a smile lifting her lips, "But I'm not backing out now. And I know I want this now," she told him.
He looked unsure, and she wondered whether or not it had been a good idea to tease him. She leant in and kissed him again.
"I want you," she told him softly, murmuring in his ear, "I want to find out what you've been dreaming about."
She could physically feel the heat from his cheeks flushing. His hands were resting on her hips again.
"Promise you'll stop me," he told her, "If I do anything you don't like?"
She nodded, smiling at him gently.
His hand pressed gently on her shoulder, pushing her carefully down. She reached her arms out to meet him as he leant gently over her to kiss her again. He undid the buttons down the front of her blouse. As he parted the fabric, she saw his eyes moving over her skin looking at her tattoos. She let him for a long moment, then she sat up a little, reaching for his shirt.
"You get to see mine, I get to see how yours is getting on," she told him.
He offered no disagreement, taking advantage of her movement to push her blouse off her shoulders. She let her fingers touch the exposed skin of his chest before her lips did, deliberately seeking out the flower blossoming there with both. He wriggled out of his shirt eagerly, making her smile against his skin. Her arms lopping over his back, she pulled him back down to her, their mouths meeting again as his fingers tangled in her hair, again. His lips roamed fretfully over her neck and her collarbone; he was almost feverish with excitement. She could tell, she could feel him pressing hard against her thigh, and she was enjoying it. Her hands moved down his back, squeezing his bottom a little bit, laughing softly as he gasped in surprise.
His kisses moved down to her breasts, and somewhere in her mind she decided that she wanted to come home to this every day. Her bra straps pushed off her shoulders, she arched her back to allow his fingers to work the clasp. When he took her bare breast into his mouth, her head rolled back and she moaned in pleasure.
"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly.
"Yes," she replied, "Will you keep doing that?"
She saw him smile, and he complied eagerly. His hand moved gradually down her side, moving in between their bodies, skirting the top of her jeans.
She was about to utter a protest at his hesitation when he pulled away from him a little and looked her in the eye and whispered; "You're incredible."
Their was disbelief in his soft whisper.
She could not bring herself to argue, she didn't even want to. She just looked back up at him and reminded him; "And I want you."
His hand fumbled a little bit undoing her jeans, but she liked it, his fingers pressed hard against her for a second. It was even better a moment later, though, when she felt his hands move lower, slip under the waistband of her knickers and dip between her folds. She gasped, wrapping her arms around him again and pulling him closer to her.
He stayed there for a moment, and then he was gently tugging at her jeans, trying to get her to take them off. She sighed at the loss of intimate contact, but knew it was in her interest to help him as quickly as she could. She stood up and practically kicked her trousers off.
Naked, she knelt back down before him on the bed. His eyes swept over her again before he took her softly in his arms again.
"You're so beautiful," he told her quietly.
Their mouths met again and they kissed slowly, deeply. And then her hands were working at his trousers as he had worked at hers. Swiftly, he helped her, and they were naked together. She smiled, tugging him to lie down beside, meeting his lips, rolling onto her back and pulling him with her. His hand was between her thighs again, touching her so tenderly. Her eyes fell shut. Her lips parted involuntarily as he slipped a finger inside her.
"I like that," she told him through her quiet erratic breathing.
"Good," he replied.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. He inhaled deeply.
"Will you be with me?" she asked him softly, her voice a little deeper, hoarse in her throat, "Will you make love?"
She opened her eyes to find him looking at her carefully.
"If it's what you want," he replied.
"It is," she assured him.
She moved, parting her legs, wrapping them around his waist. He thrust forwards and was inside her. She groaned softly, and her head fell back again.
"Are you alright?" he asked her, "Have I hurt you?"
"No, you haven't," she replied, burying her face softly in his neck, "This is lovely."
She guided his mouth back down to hers as he began to rock gently into her. She sighed again, rolling her hips slowly, getting used to this feeling again.
"It's alright," she told him softly, her hand in the middle of his back, "I won't break, Joe. It's alright. In fact, I'd like it if you went a little bit faster."
Resting his weight on his forearms, he thrust firmly into her.
"Yes," she sighed, "Like that. Again."
He did as she bid him.
She gave a guttural sigh.
"Yes," she murmured, "Yes, Joseph."
He showered kisses over her as he moved, adoring her with his mouth, slipping his hand between their bodies, seeking out her breast and then the sensitive nub of flesh between her legs. She groaned her appreciation, arching her back to press her body up against his.
"Joe-…" she was no longer at the stage of forming whole sentences. Their bodies were sticky with the sweat of moving together, "I'm going to-…"
"Yes," he told her breathlessly, increasing the pressure between her legs just slightly, "I want that."
She gave a cry, leaning up, clinging onto his body, pulling him down with her, and before he knew it he was coming too, spilling himself inside her, calling out to her too, telling her the things he'd said to her in his dreams.
They lay together, allowing their breathing to slow stroked his back gently, his hand holding her hair. Her legs were aching a little, she realised, and her lips felt swollen but she was happy about it.
Their eyes met. They were both quiet. Neither of them knew what to say. So she kissed him softly. She heard him exhale deeply and settle beside her. They would have to talk in the morning but now he gathered her in his arms, and she was glad of it.
end.