Not entirely sure where this came from ;) but this is what happens when i type without an umbrella!
Thank you for the amazing responses and reviews, I neglect to say it far too often, but it is greatly, most assuredly, appreciated and loved!
Also, thank you if you have sent me words to play with!
He starts out slow, her damp-from-the-shower body stretches out before his, time means nothing to him as he starts at the base of her and works his way up.
His mountain to climb. His point to prove.
He's in her bed for the first time since they started this, naked and so is she, laid bare before him and he is going to guarantee she remembers this night for the rest of her life.
He pulls her foot up to his mouth, watching her raise herself up onto her elbows, her eyes follow him as he traces his tongue along the arch of her foot, she flinches against the tickle and makes to pull back but he grips her tight, his eyes and hers locked, as he repeats the motion, his hands wrapped around her ankle.
He runs his lips along the top of her foot, open mouthed kisses against her skin until he reaches her ankle bone, he then sucks it into his mouth, his fingers finding pressure points in her feet and making her groan.
His eyes flick to hers again, catching the look of trepidation as she falls back into the pillows. He sees the love and trust that enable her to turn herself over so completely to his attentions override the other feelings as she settles herself on the bed.
Her skin tingles under his touch, he can feel the stirring of goose-bumps that the glide of his warm fingers over her still moist body raise. They come to greet his fingertips as he skims them over her legs and for a moment he pauses to watch in fascination.
It's all still so new to them, but, as he trails a finger and watches the skin under it retract and shiver, he doesn't think it will ever get old, he knows he will be entranced by her for all eternity.
He slides further up the bed, his lips kissing at her Achilles before he finds her calf muscle and grazes it with his teeth, all the while his mouth works on one leg his hands mimic the motion on the other, when his tongue sweeps he uses his finger tips to press and when his teeth graze he uses his nails to rake at her in similar fashion.
She complimented him today in front of the boys, deeply suggestive, sexually based, compliments that, whilst boosting his ego, have left him feeling he has something greater to prove.
It wasn't a challenge when she said it, but he takes it as one.
Skilful fingers she said, she told the other men that he never disappoints, and he's not going to start now.
He makes it to her knee, and lifting her leg over his shoulder, he lays under it, finding the pulse point at the back and sucking on it, his tongue pressing against it, he pauses when he hears her moan, feels her fingers catch at his head, nails glancing his scalp. He looks up and sees her white knuckled hand gripping at the sheet.
She's breathing heavily already and he's only reached her knee. He grins into her skin, confidence and male pride and ego burst through him because, yes, its new, but he knows her, knows what she likes, how she reacts. He presses a soft, loving kiss to her knee before he resumes.
He continues to suck at the hammering heart he's found in the groove of her leg, twisting under her again until he's back on his stomach.
Her leg is still flung over his shoulder and she's laying open before him, he wants to move up her body, cheat and get there, to the very centre of her, faster, but he makes himself go slow.
He lays his lips against the softest skin of her thigh and moves them back and forth, her lip catches in her teeth as she squirms on the mattress, but he kisses higher and higher until he reaches the indentation of her hip, the shallow groove of ball and socket, and he sweeps his tongue along it in one long line and hears her gasp, so near yet so far, from where she wants him.
He kisses patterns across the lowest plains of her stomach before reaching her other hip bone and laying his tongue along the groove again, he presses against her this time as he sweeps it through the shallow groove and she raises herself up from the mattress.
He lays one open mouthed kiss to the top of her pelvic bone, his tongue swirling against her skin as he sweeps a path slowly to her navel, reaching it he blows hotly against it before catching her eye.
She's glazed and panting, watching his steady conquering of her body.
Holding her gaze, he lays his open mouth against her navel again and swirls his tongue inside, sucking on it as he shifts his arms under her hips and pulls both of her legs over his shoulders.
One hand still fisted tight in the sheet, knuckles whiter by the minute, the other hovers uncertainly near his head, she sweeps her fingers lightly across his forehead as he continues to suck on her.
Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair, and reading something in her that she cant or wont verbalize he moves his head lower, his body squirms lower down the bed, she cant tear her eyes from him, his intention clear as he lowers himself over her open and spread wide body, his face millimetres from the rampaging heat, it is almost blistering against him as he darted out his tongue to taste her.
A slow swipe, but it isn't enough, he wants more, needs all of her, alive and vibrant beneath him.
The manic look that crosses his face has her heart thumping so loud she thinks it will beat out of her chest, she grips the sheet, palms damp, unable to cling as her hands slide through the silk material, sensation overload.
Silk against her hands, under her body, tickling hair over her stomach, the warmth of him between her legs, against her cold skin. His hands stretched wide over her chest, as he dives down upon the waiting moistness that is seeping even more from her now he was staring into it.
A sly grin on his face. The second his lips close over her, her hand grips hard at his hair and she moans, lifting her body high off the bed before thumping it back down again.
He has her wrapped around his head and shoulders, his arms firm across her hips and though his mouth continues its mindless torture against the lowest, deepest, parts of her, his hands are still free to roam, and they splay against her hips, digging in, teasing patterns higher, running along the grooves of her ribs.
She reaches behind her for the headboard, using it to pull herself away from the too intense, too deep, penetration of his lips and tongue, but he pulls her back, revelling in the moans that came from her as he presses on.
She surrenders. Unable and unwilling to fight the sensation that he creates, she gives herself over to it and lets her hand fall back to his head.
She starts to sob, no coherent words just moans, whimpers, cries of pleasure that make him feel more manly than he has at any other point in his entire life. The gratifying sounds of her enjoyment make him giddy and mindless of anything but the task before him, he wants her screaming, moaning, arching, he wants this night burned into her memory for the rest of her life.
His finger tips skim the soft and delicate skin on the underside of her breasts. His large and heavenly warm hands spread across her, and cover almost all of her exposed midriff.
He lets them rest there, his message clear, he wants to touch as much of her as possible.
But she's not concentrating on that because his lips are still moving, his kisses deep and commanding against her. His chin starts at the top of her pubis, as he moved his face dragging his lips lower, awarding small, light, kisses every where he touches as she throbs and pulsates under his touch.
He moves lower still, sucking on the soft skin until she arches off the bed, he inhales deeply, the smell of her all around him, the gusts of his breath tickling her, she opens her mouth in a silent cry of pleasure, of wonder.
He continues to suck, his tongue finding her entrance warm and wet and eager for his invasion as he pushed it deep inside, the spongy walls reluctantly parting for him even as she mashes her body against his face.
He needs to touch her, which was ridiculous when his face is buried about as far into her body as it could be, but his hands feel left out, idle, and he slides them under her, massaging the cheeks of her backside as they slip to nestle just below his chin, his thumbs stroking over her internal lips, massaging the slippery slidey walls that suck on his tongue.
She rises high from the mattress and starts to thump her body against the bed in time to the rhythmic soothing of his mouth and fingers.
She was so close, so very, very close, to a complete and utter mind blowing orgasm, it was going to be good, he could tell, her hand was over her eyes, fighting like she always did to stave off the end, her head rocked back and forth and her mouth fell open and he felt it coming.
The rushing, pouring, impending sense of delight, it was there two more thrusts, maybe three.
And he stops.
Mouth goes still.
Fingers dead against her.
He pulls back his tongue slowly, letting her feel every tingle of its withdrawal and watches as she thumps back down onto the mattress.
She lets out a long, pitiful, sob of frustration, lifting her lust dazed eyes to stare at him as he smiles up at her from the haven of her legs.
She can't even reprimand him, can't yell or make threats, because every nerve in her body was that close to exploding that she thinks her head was just about to come off, the force of it would have killed her.
And he stopped.
"Why?" she moans when she finally finds her voice, watching him as his fingers move again, pressing at the outer muscles, not giving her the release she craves but keeping up the slow steady burn that was trying to engulf her.
He doesn't answer, he just waits massaging her again and again in slow circles, he is keeping the blood flow centred, keeping her body humming for him, aching for him, eager for release.
When her breathing has slowed a little and her eyes are starting to narrow, when he watches her hand reach forward as if her frustration is forcing her to finish the job herself, he moves.
He spreads her wide under him, licking in a long steady line, her hand drops back from its intended target and grips at him, finds purchase in his hair, the other she reaches behind her, grabbing blindly at the headboard, fingers wrapping around it as she clings on for dear life.
He places warm, slow, kisses everywhere until she is writhing again, he sucks the red hot skin between his teeth, he feels her fluttering her muscles internally, she's impatient, bringing herself closer, even as he works her and he smiles, eager little vixen.
He slides his hands back into place and starts massaging her again, slower than before, the build up needs to be slower, more prolonged, so the peak is higher, the fall greater, the scream he is waiting for will be louder.
He feels her muscles contracting against his lips and he starts to hum against her, singing a song into her, as she dances for him. He drags every feeling from her he can as she rocks against him, against the bed, her voice joins his chorus as she begins to murmur and moan into the room.
His mouth is a lyrical haven that speaks to her body, his words, hushed and gentle against her, move his lips in tingly, distracting, patterns until the fire that was racing through her veins targets that one area.
It builds into a raging, torturous, inferno called forth by the spell he whispers into her body.
He carries on that way until she starts to shudder, her fingers graze his ear, pinch the lobe and he cant help it, he laughs. His mirth rumbles against her making her arch off the bed, press into him.
His humour has always gotten to her, aggravated her, teased her, now it literally frustrates her, she can feel every divine edge of his laughter as it echoes through her body, tugs at her sensitive skin.
She groans loudly, glancing down at the incredible erotic image of his laughing face rising from between her legs and she feels the blush rise in her cheeks.
Her head drops back onto the pillow as she arches against him again, her legs straining beneath his, toes curling into the sheet, catching at his leg as her muscles ache for release.
He can feel the approaching storm. The wild wave of abandonment that hits her, its coming now, and so is she.
She rises against his mouth and as he sucks as hard as he can, his tongue lifting to swirl against the darkened tunnel, he feels the walls around him shudder, flutter, and collapse as she gives herself over to the pleasure he offers so freely.
He wants to watch her, eyes locked together as she freefalls through her euphoria, he wants to force his way as deep inside her body, her heart and her soul, as humanly possible, march across her skin, batter her defences and bring down a great crashing wall of wonderment upon her, so he does.
She rocks against his mouth as he keeps her soaring for as long as possible, each shudder spurring him on to draw more from her, each squeak and cry, each moan of delight and awe at her own bodies reaction, make him crave more.
Until finally she sets loose a long, shuddering, moan, his name falling from her lips in a high pitched gust that shatters his heart.
The contractions of her body eventually started to slow, the deep, dark, potency of feeling wearing off, but he stayed buried as he was riding her to completion with his warm and eager mouth.
The fewer and further between the spasms came, the more they racked her body, each tiny after shock made her flinch and jerk against him.
When they have slowed completely, and it is only her heaving breath that moves her body, he pulls free of her, slowly letting her adapt to the sensation.
"Oh…" she sighs.
She lifts her hand from her eyes, she covered her face, the powerful intensity and pure intimacy of it all had her hiding from him, he pulls her hand down so he can stare at her.
"God…"
She shakes her head taking a deep breath as she tries to meet his eyes, her grip in his hair finally loosens just a little, and her other hand rises to join it on his face.
Her eyes drop then, to his, cheeks and lips rosy red as her breath still comes in shallow bursts, she tugs gently on his face, wants him to rise up to her. She's still lost somewhere in sensation, but she wants him closer, needs him near.
But he's not quite finished yet.
He releases her hips, drops her legs from his shoulders and starts kissing her stomach again, he can still feel it quivering under his touch, he doesn't smile in satisfaction but a burning sense of pride and adoration takes root in his stomach.
This was how you were supposed to be with the person you loved. She rendered him speechless and he stole her ability for coherent thought.
Bliss and magic and perfection.
He feels her open her legs under him, allowing him to sit into the groove of her hips as he kisses up the centre of her chest, his hands resting on either side of her, he bares most of his weight away from her still tender, still vibrating, body.
He rests his chin at her breast bone, watching her face, the muscles relaxing as she finally floats back down to him from wherever he sent her. She drags her eyes to his knowing she will find him watching her, swallows deeply, and sighs.
Her hands find his face again, her mouth eager for his kiss as she tries to pull him closer but he just smiles into her touch.
Once he has her back, he starts in again, he presses his lips to the scar at the centre of her chest, sees her tense, so he does it again, he kisses at the mark she hates to have bare like it's the most beautiful thing in the world, the crowning glory of her body, and it almost is.
It's proof she is still here with him.
He kisses at the scar until her muscles relax again, she gives in to his devotion and arches against his mouth, he takes it as invitation and pulls one of her breasts to his lips, teasing and sucking on it until he hears her voice.
She moans his name, soft and secretive, at the back of her throat, she sets it free into the room and it seems to float around him.
He shows the same attention to the other breast, his hands curling up into her hair, as his body lowers against hers, she's more steady now, under him, more prepared, her legs widen again and one sweeps out to wrap around him as her hands find his hair again.
He pulls his lips away, and, for a brief second, rests his head flat against her heaving chest, as her hands toy with his hair, his ears and his cheeks.
She wraps her arms around him, holding him tight against her chest. Emotion swells through her touches, mounts, as he lays on her and, unable to resist, he lifts his eyes to hers.
The deep, dark, pools of liquid chocolate, flecked with green, are swimming, glistening in the shrouded light of her bedroom.
Unshed tears stay locked in her eyes, she holds them off as long as she can and then with a blink they fall free, no sounds, no sobs, just a fall of tears against her cheeks.
She tries to talk but the emotions are too thick and they trap the words in her throat and she just mouths 'love you'.
He smiles then and his kisses move up, finding her collar bone, he lays flatly across her body, his arms hooking under hers and pulling them so she cradles his neck.
He kisses along the hollow of her throat and up into the indentation of her jaw, just under her ear, he moves across her cheeks and kisses away the tears, his lips salty with the love of her body, the liquid of her sorrow and joy as he finally finds her mouth. This is her crowning glory, bodily at least.
He could get lost for years in her mind, in her intelligence, wrap himself in the parts that make her, her.
But her mouth is the first place he finds heaven.
He kisses her gently, his lips moving softly over hers as she parts them for him, and their tongues meet in greeting, a silent shiver of a hello.
He can feel her fingers again, tangled in his hair, as one hand slips down and, as she has craved to do all night long, cups his cheek, her thumb smoothes over the skin of his cheekbones.
He can feel her cherishing him with each sweep and pass of her fingers.
It takes her by surprise sometimes just how much she loves him.
She deepens the kiss, the hello moving into how are you? as her eyes open and she meets his gaze.
As close as two people could ever be.
He pulls back from the kiss, lays his lips against hers once before moving away again and smiling, she answers the smile before he even speaks, assured of the words before they spill from his lips.
"I love you."
The reason he thinks her mouth is her crowning glory explodes in front of him as she smiles, it's beautiful.
Simply breath taking, it reaches her eyes, her heart, his heart, it swells both their chests to bursting, and he has to kiss it.
He slides back down to her mouth, kissing her smiling lips with touches as gentle as a butterfly's wing.
He presses home then, his body rigid and harsh, sliding into hers and finding peace, he watches as the smile kinks to one side, the sensation of his body in hers brings back the teasing look to her face and he watches as she is unable to resist the siren song singing through her.
She pulls him closer both internally, with an artful twist of her muscles, and externally, with the arms that wind around his neck and drag him forward for another kiss.
Their bodies set up an appealing, undeniable rhythm and, as the ache inside them mixes and mounts and multiplies, they jointly pull back from the kiss to gaze at each other.
Eyes as locked and loving as their bodies, and that's how they stay as they finally fall, together.