Title: "Untitled Smut Scene" from Losing You

Genre: romance, smut, pwp

Character/s: Charlie/Claire

Spoilers: goes AU from the end of S3

Summary: This is the only somewhat completed scene from the sequel that I began writing for "Fight For You" ages ago. You know, back when I still wrote Lost fanfiction and liked the show? Basically the premise for this is that Claire came down to the Looking Glass with Charlie and saved him but broke her hand in the process. After they return to shore they get Juliet to set Claire's hand and then they go and live in Otherton which is around and about when this particular piece of smut ensues J

Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine etcetera.

Her eyelids flutter as she bites her lip and then lowers herself slowly onto him, biting back a moan as she does so. Charlie lies beneath her, his breathing short and shallow as she inches down further and further, her good hand reaching between her legs to keep him in position whilst her injured hand is held trembling against her breasts as if to still the ferocious beating of her heart.

"You okay?" Charlie asks, trying not to gasp as he trembles beneath her, half in and half out of her body. It seems like a very long time since he's done this with anyone and his body is all but screaming at him to start moving. But he holds himself back, waits for Claire to catch her breath and get used to the sensation of having him inside her and then finally she looks down at him, still biting her lip, and she nods fervently, both hands drawn up now to cover herself. "Lean forwards," Charlie instructs and Claire does so, taking the weight onto her left hand and bending down low enough to kiss him, her lips trembling against his.

Charlie rolls his hips forwards, just slightly and Claire gasps as he fills her. After a moment or two she accustoms herself to the unfamiliar feeling and she begins to rock her own pelvis slowly against his. Charlie matches her speed carefully, making sure not to push too hard or too fast. Claire needs to do this at her own pace or else he'll end up hurting her – or worse, she'll want to stop.

And God help him but he can't stop now.

As she begins to get accustomed to the rhythm and the feel, Claire begins to move faster, her body rubbing wantonly against his as she moves back and forth, her cheek pressing against his as soft gasps ebb from between her lips. Charlie shuts his eyes and pulls his arms tight around her, just enjoying the sensation of being inside her and her warm breath against his ear.

Her skin is soft beneath his hands, pliant and smooth and beautiful and naked and Charlie sighs contentedly as he feels a gentle brush of lips, unexpected on his skin. There's nothing aggressive about this, no hard sharp angles of hip bones or frantic grinding and thrusting like he's used to. Instead everything is soft and warm and so nice that if he wasn't so bloody turned on then he could probably fall into a sleepy little doze right about now.

Which is why when she arches her back suddenly they are both shocked into a low moan of pleasure which quickly degenerates into a series of low, quick moans as she begins to rock her hips in earnest, getting faster and faster.

"So...good..." tumbles out of her mouth as Charlies hips join hers in a slow crescendo. "So...so good..."

Charlie says nothing, just lets her ride him, pants against her shoulder. But after several moments of this, the tight muscles around his cock suddenly relax and she seems to have lost whatever sensation she was feeling previously because she pulls back, licking her lips and a determined glint to her eye.

"Put your arms over your head," she tells him, still keeping a slow but careful rhythm. "With your wrists together."

Charlie obliges, wondering what she's going to do next. Claire sits up straight for a moment looking down at him, sitting so deep that he's completely lost within her. Her hands rest lightly on his waist and then she leans forward from the hips, her left hand effectively trapping both of his wrists so that he can't move his arms at all. The other one – her bandaged hand – is still held to her chest to protect it. Charlie looks up at her, her hips have stilled now and she smiles slightly and shuts her eyes before drawing back and then slamming her hips down on his with absolutely no warning.

"JESUS!"

"Charlie!" she cries in answer and then she arches her back again and moans and Charlie almost goes completely crazy right there on the spot.

He wants to bring his hands down so that he can touch her, so that he can flip her over onto her back and make love to her in earnest but she's got too much pressure on his wrists and he can barely even move his fingers as she whimpers above him, so deep in her own pleasure that she's lost her final ounces of self control.

Charlie's never seen her like this before – she's wild and abandoned above him, long hair loose and falling down her back and beside her cheeks. Somehow through the haze of sex clouding his brain, Charlie has the ability to be awed by this woman. Somehow in the past week she's completely let go of all the previous inhibitions she ever had with him and it's sexy and beautiful and God he just can't believe how lucky he is to be here, alive with her.

"Ohhh..." he gasps as he finally lets his own pleasure wash over his senses, warm and sweet and utterly sublime. "Claire..."

"Love you," she whispers between a steady crescendo of moans. "Oh God...love you..."

Charlie shuts his eyes as Claire pushes faster and faster, practically vibrating on top of him, he chokes and tries to hold himself back until she collapses into an exhausted heap on his chest and then he lets loose the breath he's been holding in.

"That felt good?" he guesses and she gasps for breath and nods against him. "I think you were going at warp speed for a few seconds there luv."

Claire laughs breathlessly but when Charlie goes to nudge her gently off him she clings tight to him with her thighs and refuses to move.

"More?" he guesses and she nods again but doesn't move as she tries to catch her breath and finally he can't bear it anymore. "You know I think it must be about my turn to be on top."

She looks up then, her eyes alight with some unfathomable expression and then she wraps one leg around him and together they roll until he's on top of her, carefully avoiding her broken wrist.

"You're amazing," he murmurs and strokes his fingertip down her cheek. "You know that right?"

She's still a little breathless but she smiles up at him and then wraps her arms around his waist and her eyes glint teasingly.

"Take me all the way rock star."

And under normal circumstances Charlie would have laughed, equal parts embarrassed by her reference to his old lifestyle and amused by the absolute bloody corniness of that sentence. Right now however she could tell him to stand on his head and squawk like chicken and he would do it with no questions asked.

And so he positions himself comfortably and does exactly what she asked him to do.

All the bloody way.