By the time she was leading him through her front door, she'd received quite the lecture on the inconveniences of plastic and how much of a nuisance it was. His disdain over the present time he found himself in filled her with more amusement than she'd experienced in quite some time.
"Just sit here," she said, gesturing to the couch before moving to the kitchen for what she needed to clean him up. Upon returning to him, she smiled as she took a moment to take in his straight back form. "It's been a long time since I've seen someone sit so proper."
The slight nervousness that flashed over his features didn't escape her notice as she took a seat next to him, nor did she miss the tell tale fidgeting and flexing of his fingers. Bringing up a damp cloth, she touched the side of his lip where a bit of blood was still present. "I'm so sorry this happened," she finally whispered. "I never thought he would do something like that. He's not the type."
Ichabod shrugged, his eyes falling to the floor. "What are men to fight for if not love?"
"There is no love to fight for between Nick and I," she answered softly. "Before I returned, he and I hadn't even seen each other in six months and had barely had as many conversations over that course of time. Does that honestly sound like two people in love to you? You and I wrote letters every day we were apart. Every little thing was significant and we wanted each other to know what was happening in the other's life."
When he gave no answer, she sighed. "Do you want the whole truth about Nick and I? Because if our roles were reversed, I'd want to know every last detail about the woman who dared to touch you."
A heavy breath fell from him as he turned to her, his blue eyes dancing all over her face. "Tell me."
A bit less confident with him now staring at her, she started, "As I said before, he came into my life shortly after I lost faith in Abigail being the Second Witness. I uhm...Jenny forced me out of my house to help with some things she was doing at the time and we bumped into Nick." Shrugging her shoulders, she added, "He's really into the whole treasure hunter type stuff, so we all became colleagues of sorts." Unable to look at him, she dropped her eyes to her hands. "I knew he was interested in me and one night we all went out for drinks and..."
"You made love to him," he said dejectedly.
Eyes jerking up, she took in his hurt face and reached for his hand. "No, my love, it wasn't like that. It was just sex."
His gaze lifted back to hers. "Nothing is ever just sex, Katrina. Especially not when you continue in it."
"Ichabod-"
"You can't sit there and tell me that you spent however long it was with him and never felt anything."
Feeling a generous amount of desperation begin to build, she shook her head. "You're right. I did feel things and, honestly, given enough time, I could have loved him."
At that, he attempted to pull his hands away, but she refused to allow it. "But I never would have been happy. Could I have loved him? Even had a family with him? Yes." Lifting a hand, she brushed some fallen hair from his eyes. "But it never would have been what I truly wanted. Even when Nick and I were together, really together, I would look at him and...sometimes I literally wanted to cry right in the middle of the act because I was always missing that feeling; that burning, overwhelming feeling that if I didn't get closer to my lover, I'd die." She caught his eyes. "Do you know that feeling?"
"Yes," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know it."
"Sometimes, all I could think of was how you used to lean over me as you made love to me and you would just...stare at me. Not lustfully, or with desire, but...like I was your air and without me, your life would end."
When nothing else was said, she reached up and with barely a flicker of her magic, the cut closed, all sign of his injury gone. Running her hand up his face to push his hair back, she whispered, "There. Good as new."
With a frown, he touched his lip. "I don't feel anything."
The wonder in his blue eyes filled her with inexplicable joy. "You're not freaked out? By the magic, I mean? I know it must be a great deal to take in."
She wasn't sure if he knew how much his next words could either lift her up or tear her down. So much time had been spent on her part attempting to discern what his reaction would be, but no matter how much she assured herself that he would accept her, irrational doubt still clung to her.
"It's a part of you," he answered softly. "It was a part of you when I loved you most. If I would have looked at you differently, it would only have been because I revered you more."
At a loss for a response to such a declaration, her hands held her gaze as a smile slowly came to her face, prompting her to lift her eyes back to him. "I have a gift for you, something that belongs to you."
His eyebrows shot up. "A gift? I thought all of my things...?"
Shaking her head, she stood up and held out her hand to him. "Those were from me. This isn't."
She could see that curiosity she so loved creeping over his face as he stared at her offered hand. When he finally released a breath and accepted it, she grinned and began leading him down the hallway. With a chuckle at his hesitant steps and nervous glances at each room, she pulled him to the last door, which was already open, and waved her hand so the bedside lamp switched on.
"Did you just-?" he asked, his eyes wide as he pointed at the lamp.
Turning to him, she held up her free hand and wiggled her fingers with a grin. "Magic is a wonderful thing."
A small nod was his response as his gaze swept over her bedroom. She watched him take it all in with a bit of nervousness. This was, after all, her most personal of spaces. If he wasn't comfortable here, she wasn't sure what she would say exactly. When he pulled from her and walked across the room to the far wall, she smiled at what had caught his attention. It was the very thing she'd brought him here for.
"Do you recall it?" she asked, stepping up beside him as he reached up to touch the frame that held a painting of a colorful sky back dropping a lone oak tree.
"Recall it? It's the painting that hung over the mantle in my mother's room."
"It is," she answered softly.
With wide eyes, he turned to her. "How did you come to possess it?"
Taking a deep breath, she started what she knew was going to be a story that would take a toll on them both. "After you fell on the battlefield and I was sure any suspicion was gone from me, I began my search for a way to unbind you from the Horseman. My search led me to England."
"You visited my mother," he concluded turning to her fully, his eagerness showing in his blue eyes.
"I did," she answered with a small smile. "I knew what she meant to you and I just..." Shaking her head, her eyes fell to her hands as she spoke the next part. "She was ill when I arrived."
"Ill?"
The tone of his voice brought her eyes back to his, which were filled with concern. "Yes. She'd come down with an illness weeks before and...she never regained her strength."
He nodded as he tore his eyes from her and stiffly turned back to the painting.
Swallowing her desire to reach out and comfort him, she continued, "I was brought in to see her as she was bed ridden. I'm not sure what I had imagined before, but seeing her... She was a such a beautiful woman."
When she managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes, her heart felt as though it was breaking at the unshed tears glistening there.
"As I stood at her bedside, I wasn't sure how to introduce myself; your lover, your friend? Should I lie and say I was your wife? It was something I had been struggling with since the moment I had decided to visit her. However, before I could even get a word out of my mouth, she spoke and shocked me to my core."
His eyes slid to her in obvious curiosity even as he clearly attempted to control his emotions.
"She said, "My son loves you'."
His face creased in a frown as he blinked rapidly. "I don't understand."
Shaking her head, she softly laughed, "Neither did I, at first, but then she gestured me to sit beside her. When I did, she reached up and laid her hand over my necklace." To reinforce her words, she grasped the jewel around her neck in her fingers.
A tear finally escaped him as he reached to touch the jewel as well. "She knew I would only give to the woman I loved."
After a moment of him staring at the jewel as though he were in another place, she went on, "When it came down to it, I couldn't lie to her. She was lying there, so helpless, so trusting, and her eyes were just like yours. I couldn't look into your eyes and utter another lie." Gaze back on him to find him staring at her, she said, "I told her everything."
His hand fell as he stepped back, his eyebrows up as his pain seemed to pass away to be replaced with shock. "Everything?"
"Everything," she repeated. "And when I was done, I laid my hand over hers and told her that I could prove it all by restoring her."
"You healed my mother?" he asked, more than slight hope in his voice.
Gaze dropping again, she shook her head. "No."
"What do you mean? You said-"
"She was tired, Ichabod," she cut in softly. "She was ready to move on."
When she heard his breathing quicken, she glanced up to find him frowning at her. "You should have done it anyway. You should have-"
"Forced her to go on in a world her son no longer existed in?" she cut in again, though with more force. "Forced her to live an even longer life knowing she would never lay eyes on him again?" He looked so broken that she couldn't stop herself from laying her hand on his arm, which he thankfully didn't jerk from her. "Your father was gone. Her entire family was gone. She was ready, my love."
He shook his head as he sank down the wall in a heap of choked sobs. Pushing aside her own tears, she knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around him. "I remained with her. We shared stories of you. She said you always loved this painting. That you would stare at it for hours with her, naming all the colors when you were a boy. She wanted you to have it." Resting her chin atop his head, she whispered, "She was so happy knowing that you had found love. She said it was all she'd ever wanted for you; for you to know love."
She wasn't sure how long they remained like that, but it wasn't until he was pulling back that she finally released her tight hold on him to catch his eyes. It was the way he was looking at her that made her heart feel like it had stopped altogether. There was so much tenderness on his tear streaked face and then, to her mild surprise, he leaned toward her until his lips brushed hers softly. It was a light kiss, teasing really as it was barely there. Then, his hand lifted to her neck as he pressed further into her, his mouth opening over hers before sliding off, his teeth taking her bottom lip and dragging off of it.
"Katrina..."
Oddly breathless from such small kiss in comparison to their deeper ones, she whispered, "Yes, my love?"
"Did you mean what you said?"
Pulling back to catch his eyes again as she brushed his hair from his face, she asked, "About what?"
"About growing old with me and..." He blinked rapidly for a beat before finishing, "Having a family."
The hope in his eyes didn't escape her and it was currently causing her heart to swell. "I meant every word." With a sigh, she added, "Obviously, we can't do those things any time soon, but... just as soon as it's safe there is nothing I want more in the world than to finally have the life we dreamed of all those years ago."
His fingers traced along her jaw. "I'm sorry, my love."
Frowning, she tilted her head to catch his eyes which were avoiding hers. "For what?"
Guilt laced his face as he spoke. "For all the terrible things I've said to you these last two days. I deserve a beating."
"Ichabod-" she began to protest, but he shook his head.
"I had no right to judge you. I'm not the one who had to live hundreds of years without my love. If our roles had been reversed, I-" His face contorted into one of grief, pulling at her heart. "I'm not sure I would have survived it." Fingers now running through her hair, he smiled. "You've always been so strong, Katrina. Who am I to fault you for having moments of weakness?"
Vision burning, she whispered, "I would do anything for you. I love you so much, Ichabod."
"I want to say it, Katrina."
"You don't love me?" she asked, a slight dread filling her at his words. "Is it because of Nick, because I-"
Quickly shaking his head, he stepped closer to her, his hands finding a place on her waist. "I love the Katrina van Tassel I remember in 1781, but... I simply haven't learned who you are here, in this time." He shook his head again as he seemed to be searching for words. "You're so different, now."
At his pleading look for understanding, she tried to put on a brave face, but wasn't entirely sure she was succeeding. "Ok. Then, we just..." She shrugged. "We take our time and let you get to know me here." When he smiled and dropped his eyes to her necklace, she decided they needed to lighted the tension, "I suppose this means we're not going to..." He frowned at her so she gestured to the bed with a grin. "You know..."
It took him a moment, but then realization shot across his face as he stuttered, "Oh, I, uhm I-"
Chuckling, she took in his nervous face. "It's ok, we can just... sleep." When he didn't answer, she added, "Unless you'd rather me take you home? I mean, I can... if you don't want to..."
Everything within her prayed he didn't want that. To know he was so close, but not with her would surely drive her mad.
Slowly, his eyes came back to hers. "If it's alright, I'd prefer to stay... with you."
Unable to stop her smile, she jumped to her feet, suddenly full of energy where moments before she'd felt beyond drained, and reached to pull him to his feet before practically dragging him to the bathroom on the other side of the room. "Good. I have an extra toothbrush you can use." She pulled said bright pink toothbrush out and handed it to him. "I'm gonna go get ready for bed. You can shower if you want and then... I'll be waiting for you."
He was standing in front of her purple shower curtains, staring at them like they were some sort of zoo exhibit, and she couldn't contain her excitement. She couldn't help it. She was having a sleepover with Ichabod Crane. "Unless you'd prefer me to shower with you?"
His head whipped around to her so fast she wouldn't be surprised if he now had whiplash. Eyes wide, he answered, "Uh, no. I believe- I'll manage."
Smirking, she leaned up to place a lingering kiss to his cheek. "I suppose we'll save that for later."
With that, she backed away into her room and pulled the door closed before she began bouncing around, attempting to hurry and find something to wear. Pulling open her dresser, she took in the various laces and silks, quickly going through them eagerly as she tried to find something appropriate. She didn't want to freak him out because she was sure he was busy doing enough freaking out on his own, but she did want to find something that wouldn't put any pressure on him, while still making his pulse pound. Nothing too sexy, but just enough to let him know what the future held.
A thought occurred to her and she shoved the dresser shut and hurried across the room to her closet. Waving the light on, she reached to the very back and felt for the material she was searching for. When her fingers brushed it, she tugged it from the hanger, nearly falling over in the process, and brought it into her view. The white shirt brought a smile to her face as she recalled how she'd obtained it. That first time she'd given her body to him, she'd demanded ownership of the shirt he'd been wearing, claiming she wanted a keepsake of the moment they had become one. Of course, he'd grumbled over the fact that he'd just given her his mother's necklace, but she hadn't had any of his protests and in the end had won. Throughout the years, in his absence, she'd often pulled the old shirt out as a material means to cling to him. When she'd worn it, she could almost imagine his arms around her, holding her and comforting her through the long nights. Now, it was going to be the thing that gave him some form of comfort as he actually did hold her tonight.
Quickly rushing back to her dresser, she stripped down before pulling on a fresh pair of panties which she scrutinized hard in the mirror. In this time, she knew the dark green lace wasn't all that special, certainly nothing she'd wear for the pleasure of a modern man, but for Ichabod... well, they were certainly much more different than the kinds of underwear he'd seen her in before. When she actually considered it, though, it was sort of ridiculous. He used to tent his pants over her huge nightgowns that had covered her from collarbone to ankles. Back then, he had been like a dog after another in heat when he had gotten his hands on her. With that thought, of course, came other, less appropriate ones. She'd certainly have a larger choice of seduction tactics to use with him than she would with anyone else, not that she actually thought she would need any such tactics, but it would be fun to keep in mind in the future. She had a feeling she'd have plenty more instances to make Ichabod Crane turn scarlet in the future.
Realizing she'd spent entirely too long thinking about panties, she pulled the baggy shirt over head and allowed it to fall about her. When it hit her at mid thigh and she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help her chuckle. She hadn't been this excited about getting dressed for a sleepover since the last time she'd snuck Ichabod into her father's house. He'd been so nervous over getting caught.
"You've lost your mind," he whispered as she led him through the dark kitchen.
"Perhaps," she answered as she paused to listen for any movement upstairs. When she'd checked earlier, everything had been quiet in her father and step mother's room, but she figured it was better to be safe and reassure herself.
"This is madness, Katrina. We can't do this."
Turning to face him, she narrowed her eyes. "There's an ice storm outside and while I'd face hell itself to be with you, my love, I think a warm bed will be much more pleasant than the freezing cold barn."
A look of torment came over his face. "We could...We could wait."
Eyebrows raised in amusement, she stepped close to him, her hand sliding down his shirt to his trousers where she cupped the rather large bulge she'd created minutes earlier when she'd met him at the side door. He sucked in a shaky breath as she whispered, "Can we really?" With a chuckle, she brushed her lips to the side of his neck. "It's been months of nothing but my own methods to tide me over." Pulling back, she smiled into the kiss he pressed into her as he backed her against the wall. "Have you been tiding yourself over?"
He breathed heavily against her as his hands roamed her body. "Nearly every night."
Unable to stop herself, she moaned against his mouth. "Every night?"
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, before grunting as she pressed her hand harder into his trousers. "Have mercy, Katrina. I need you. I need to taste you, to be inside you. Please."
She pushed him away and grasped his hand once more as she began leading him around the corner. "Then, be quiet and watch the third step. It squeaks."
When she heard the shower shut off, pulling her from her thoughts, she practically sprinted for her bed, where she sat and pulled open her bedside table to pull out her lotion. This was something she generally took her time with, but tonight likely wasn't the time to let Ichabod open the door and see her rubbing all over her body. The fact that they were choosing to behave tonight didn't mean he was a saint. He'd proven many times over that he wasn't shy in his want of her. That particular night she was thinking of had been quite the experience. She wasn't sure if it was the length of time they'd been apart, or the fact that her father and step-mother had been in the next room, perhaps it was a combination of both, but it had been one of the hottest nights they'd ever shared. The things he'd done to her...
Quickly throwing the lotion back into the drawer, she pulled the covers back before diving under them and attempting to control her breathing as she waited for him to make his appearance. The moment he did, however, she felt herself deflate like a balloon as she slapped a hand over her eyes and threw herself back against the bed. "Why?" she whined pitifully as she felt a mild tantrum coming on.
"What's wrong?"
In frustration, she threw her covers back before jumping up and walking over to where he was standing in confusion. The fact that his eyes were roaming over her in the way she'd desired was something she'd relish in later. Taking his coat from his hands, she threw it across the room in the direction of the chair in the corner without even bothering to see if it actually made it there.
"Katrina-"
"No," she mumbled as she roughly un-tucked his shirt from his pants. "No." Jerking at said shirt, she began pushing it up his body until he was forced to lift his hands if he didn't want to suffocate.
"Katrina, what are you doing?"
She ignored him as her hands fell to his pants and proceeded to unbutton them. "No."
When he attempted to stop her, she swatted his hands and pushed his pants down his legs, leaving him in nothing other than his underclothes. "Katrina, we can't-"
"Stop," she said, reaching up and placing her fingers to his lips. "I didn't just spend ten minutes contemplating the color of my panties for you to crawl into bed with me fully clothed."
His eyes widened and she could clearly see the desire in his eyes to check said color. "I didn't want to..."
"Be inappropriate, I got that," she finished knowingly, pulling him to the bed and gesturing for him to get in. "But the two of us have seen each other naked and had entirely too much sex for you to be so awkward with me. So, please... just get in the bed, Ichabod."
Despite his surprise, he did nod and do just as she asked, stiffly lying back against the pillow and awkwardly crossing his arms. For a minute, she stood there and stared at him as he avoided looking at her before shaking her head and crawling over him to fall to her side of the bed. The nervous clearing of his throat brought a chuckle from her as she rolled to prop her head in her hand and stare down at him. "Did you even notice the shirt?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. "I did. It's... I wasn't expecting it."
"Have you honestly ever been able to figure out ahead of time what I was going to do?" she asked teasingly.
When all he did was shrug, she narrowed her eyes and slid a hand over his chest, loving the way it hardened under her touch. "What happened to all of that confidence you had when you pressed me into that wall an hour ago?"
His eyes fell closed as he sucked in a deep breath before rolling to face her, his blue eyes a storm of different emotions. "I feel as if I'm about to explode."
Unable to help her smile, she admitted softly, "Me too."
The hard swallow he gave drew her eyes to his throat bobbing. God, how she wanted to suck at his skin there. "I don't fit in here, Katrina."
Eyes snapping back to his, she frowned. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged, his gaze falling to her chest where he lifted a hand to touch the chain of her necklace before trailing it down to the sapphire which was resting along her arm. "Here, in this time. I'm out of place. The way I talk, dress... It's all wrong."
As she lifted her hand to brush his hair back, her heart went out to him. There was that vulnerability. Ichabod Crane was a proud man, but every now and then, when they were completely alone, he'd sometimes allow those insecurities he kept shoved down to show through. It seemed he was harboring more insecurity over his moving about in this century than he'd let on. "You'll adjust, my love."
"What if I don't?" he asked pitifully.
"Then, we'll make it work," she assured. "You don't have to change who you are at all. I wouldn't want you to; not unless that was something you truly wanted."
"But if we..."
When he didn't continue, she trailed her hands to his chin where she lifted his gaze to her. "If we... what?"
To her surprise, tears filled his eyes as he whispered, "If we have children, I won't-"
Understanding flooded through her. Here she was worried about what to wear for him and he was already ten years ahead of her, worried over how their children would see him. "If-When," she corrected, choosing a more positive path. "We have children, they are going to love you, Ichabod Crane. Our beautiful little boys and girls will adore you for all the things you are. We are going to fill a house with brown and red haired little monsters that will no doubt have us wrapped completely around their fingers." She smiled as she twirled a few locks of his hair between her fingers. "I can just see a little girl with green eyes staring up at you as you attempt to scold her and fail miserably." Tracing her finger along his cheek, she whispered, "You are going to be an amazing father."
"But-"
She shook her head as she laid a finger to his lips. "Don't you know you shouldn't argue with a witch?"
The wisp of a smile came to his face. "I wasn't aware of such a rule. However, I am privy to the knowledge that I shouldn't argue with a van Tassel. I hear they have fiery tempers."
Chuckling, she tangled their fingers over the sapphire and laid back against the bed. "What else have you heard?"
He followed her, scooting into her side, as she brought their hands to rest over her breasts. "Oh, well, they never give up when they get an idea in their heads."
"I might have heard that as well," she whispered, her eyes caught on his, which were caught on their hands.
"Mhm," he mumbled, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of her breast while still threaded through hers.
When her body gave a shiver, his eyes snapped to hers, their darkened color sending an unexpected thrill through her. It had been so very long since he'd looked at her in such a way, a way that said he wanted her, maybe even needed her. He was barely more than a breath away, the likes of which was warming her cheeks as he leaned over her. There was a small bit of hesitation in her as she knew the moment she started giving herself to him, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop. However, it only lasted for as long as it took him to glance to her lips. Lifting her free hand, she weaved it through his hair before pulling him down to her, unable to stand any more separation. The moment his lips touched hers, it was like some sort of dam opened as every ounce of desire she'd had locked away for him over the last two centuries released. Ichabod had always been such a tease when it came to kissing her and it seemed he'd brought that trait over to this century as well. He would hold himself just far enough away from her mouth to barely brush her lips, leaving her to lean up to reach him only to have him evade her and press a light kiss to the side of her mouth. Frustrated, she added pressure to the back of his head in an effort to pull him down, but was ineffective as he was too strong for her.
"Ichabod, please..."
He opened his mouth just over hers, his tongue slipping out to slide just barely inside her mouth, its slick texture sending a shot of pleasure straight to her sex. Tightening her fingers even more in his hair, she finally managed to press his mouth into her as hard as she could and moaned into him as she felt her control slip. The fact that his hand was now completely cupping her breast through the shirt, his thumb teasing her nipple back and forth, was not helping matters in the least. When he shifted slightly over her, she felt just how much he desired this as well, prompting her to slide her hand down his chest to tease the rim of his pants. Whether he was too lost in her body to notice, or consenting to her obvious thoughts, was lost on her, but press on she did. Slipping her hand beneath the material, it was only a moment before she was tracing her finger over him, delighting in how hard he already was for her.
"Katrina..." he breathed into her, sliding his mouth along her jaw and down to her neck.
Blinking rapidly through the sexual haze she was currently in, she asked, "Is this alright?"
In response, he lifted his head, his gaze coming to hers, his blue eyes dark with desire. "I don't want to make love until... until I can say it."
"Ok," she whispered, removing her hand from its place down his pants and sliding it over his back. Dragging the hand in his hair down to his cheek, she continued, "We can stop right now and go to sleep if that's what you want. We don't have to do anything. I'm content to simply be with you."
His eyes flickered down her body as he appeared to contemplate something. "I want to touch you." A breathless sigh left him. "I need to touch you, Katrina."
Swallowing down the saliva she was collecting at the thoughts running rampant through her, she nodded. "Ok... touching, touching's good."
A smirk crept over him, revealing that confident streak he possessed, as his hand slid down her belly and beneath the covers. "Do you want me to touch you, Katrina?" His lips met her ear where he breathed into it hotly. "Do you want me to bring you to your end? My fingers sliding along your slick heat?
"Oh, God," she whispered at his fingers pressing into her panties. "Don't you dare tease me."
His mouth fell to her chest, his tongue tracing the chain of her necklace as his hand remained flat against her panties, unmoving, but maintaining its hard press. The attempt to control her breathing was becoming a problem the longer the anticipation of his hand moving built. When his mouth enveloped her nipple through the shirt, she arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair and pressing him harder into her.
"Ichabod, please, just..."
Shifting her hips up, she tried to attain some friction, but he was pressed so firmly into her that barely any movement occurred at all. At this point, the shirt she was wearing was completely soaked through at the breast, prompting her to suck in a breath at the cool air against it when he switched to the other.
"It's been two hundred and thirty-one years, Ichabod," she whispered breathlessly. "I don't need any more teasing from you."
He chuckled and, the next thing she knew, she was suddenly gasping at the jolts of electricity shooting up her body from his fingers sliding up and down her panty covered sex. Letting her thighs fall apart, she pulled at his hair until he was back within kissing distance where she could latch her lips onto his. When his tongue brushed hers, her moan slipped out, resulting in his whole mouth eagerly clamping over hers. That, combined with his fingers now rubbing more quickly, had her body shaking.
"Yes," she breathed as that familiar tingle began pulling at her and moments later it was flooding her forcefully as she went over the edge, jerking her mouth from his and arching off the bed as she lost control of her body. Everything went white behind her eyes as he kissed along her neck, steadily bringing her down from her high while a slight throb was now present between her thighs. For a few moments, she just laid there, soaking it all in before she finally opened her eyes, sucking in a panted breath as he lifted his head to catch her gaze. "Touching's very good," she whispered with a hand at his cheek. "So very good."
His smile filled her with such contentment as he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. "You're beautiful."
A warmth filled her at his words to add to her already flushed body as she pulled him down to kiss her. When he rested against her and clearly gave himself over to loving her mouth, she slid a hand down his side to the rim of his pants. When she once again slipped her fingers around him, he pulled back. "You don't have to."
"I know," she whispered against his lips. "I want to... so much, my love. I need this, too."
His eyes slid closed at her touches, bringing a smile to her face. She wasn't the only one who was beautiful. From his blue eyes, to his strong jaw, to his toned body that was often mistaken as scrawny beneath his clothing, Ichabod Crane was an absolutely beautiful man. He was a beautiful man who's breathing didn't take long to pick up as he panted over her, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath their bodies. He was so hard between her thumb and fingers as she worked at steadily pulling his release from him. The amount of times that she'd imagined this through the long years, drawing on memories of all the times she'd actually done this with him, was nothing in comparison to actually doing it. They'd spent so much time learning each other, basking in each other's love and pleasure, that it was such a completely natural action to be committing, despite all the time that had passed since the last time she'd touched him in such a way. When his arms started trembling, she reached the hand that had been stroking his arm to the bedside table where she grabbed a couple of tissues.
"Katrina..."
His voice was so deep and shuddered that it had taken on a whole other tone. Ichabod's sex voice and sounds were some of her most absolute favorite things to listen to, something that only grew knowing she was the one causing them. Only she had ever known them.
"Let go, my love," she said softly, tangling her free hand in his hair. "Let go for me."
And just like that, he was jerking against her hand, his body coming undone and giving her exactly what she had asked for. After a moment of watching him collect himself, he collapsed to the bed beside her, his arms circling her as he burrowed into her side.
Laughing at his exhausted face, she asked, "And just like that, you're going to sleep?"
"No," he grunted into her neck as he nuzzled it. "I just want to lie with you."
With a shake of her head, she dropped the tissues to the floor and turned back to him, stroking her fingers over his arm which was resting below her breasts. Eyes dancing over his chiseled features, she sighed as she considered that he was actually lying in bed with her, something she'd imagined so many times.
His soft breath washed over her face as he whispered, "Are you going to stare at me all night?"
"Would that be so wrong?" she asked with a small grin.
His eyes cracked upon, the blue in them soft as he looked at her. "No."
Heart nearly about to bubble over with happiness, she brushed her lips to his before turning on her side and scooting her back into his chest. When his arms wrapped around her, his face burying in her hair, and his leg slipping between hers, she smiled and snapped her fingers, the room immediately filling with darkness.
After a moment, he said, "I'm jealous."
Smile widening, she nodded. "I know."
Well, that was fun. Next up: An engagement. A first kiss. Someone wonders if they're moving too fast. Someone over does it. And badly timed interruptions.
