another pre birthday dedication for she who breaks through writers block, and brings sunshine!
Disclaimer: not mine, but for christmas (because i have been oh so good) i request one of those bath tubs..yes please..thank you!
At some point, she's not entirely sure when, he lifts her from the counter. Her body is tangled with his and all that remains of her is reaction, time has ceased to have any meaning.
She was in the come down stage, and if she had the ability she would laugh at her own wording, but right now she's more focused on coherent thought.
It's just, he's moving her again, and the come down has rebelled against her and seems to be more of an uprising. Little tricklings of nerves and tiny slithers of joy already wide awake are skipping back to life, dancing around her stomach.
She's going to go again, she knows she is.
This man!
She has her arms wrapped tight around his neck, so tight her hands are reaching back to her own elbows, his face pressed into the hollow of her neck.
Time is fleeting, time is eternal.
Time has ceased to exist because, when she wasn't paying attention, he raised her up and hitched her tight against his body, wrapping her legs around him with long steady sweeps of his hands.
He didn't grope, but he lingered, and the lingering left her panting, begging and moaning his name, his fingers playing with pulses behind her knees, squeezing her thighs and calf muscles.
Pulse on pulse, the pounding of his blood through his finger tips, pressed to the thrumming vein in the back of her leg, it echoes the throbbing she feels at the centre of her body. More pulses that he plays with, every one he fiddles with making them all beat faster.
Again she doesn't remember when, everything has become an ebb and flow of sensation, it could have been before the second time, it was definitely after the first.
His lips are attentive to the soft, flushed, skin at the edge of her throat, and as they move she realises that not only is he kissing, and licking and nipping, at her skin, he is whispering across it too.
She doesn't take in much of what he says because he's still moving, himself, her, they walk to the bath and, keeping her wrapped around him, he sits her on the edge of the tub.
She is a raw, jangled, mess of nerves and pulsation, and she can hear his voice, eyes closing as rapid fire sweeps her body, his hand in hers as he pulls her fingers from his neck to skim through the water of the bath, heat against the tips as they delve beneath the surface.
She hears him murmur about everlasting love and wonders if he's singing. Then he's groaning about soft skin, warmth, wetness, dipping into the tub as he moans and then he's talking so quietly she can only hear the hum of his voice.
Love, love, love is all she hears now, all she feels and she could swear if she falls back into the tub she will drown in the colour-changing water, but if she falls forward she will drown in him.
She wants to fall forward but she's so close.
So, she fights to maintain balance, the edge of the tub hard underneath her, him hard everywhere, soft everywhere, touching everywhere.
She digs her heels into him, forgetting her shoes, hearing him hiss, whine, and beg her to do it again, as the sharp stilettos catch at him. They scrape the soft skin of his back and she can see a long red line running down from his hip, over his ass and into the thigh muscle.
It's reflecting back at her in the mirror.
Oh…the mirror!
She's lost then, knows no matter what she will be soaring or tumbling or rolling against him in seconds.
The memories of what he did to her in the mirror flood her body, and her eyes are glued to the way his muscles ripple and flex as he torments her.
She drops her arms from his neck, raising herself up to kiss him, her hands wrap around his face, thumbs across his cheeks, chest to chest, skin to skin. She rubs against him like a cat, purrs into his ear.
When their lips meet she feels him shudder, and its enough to send her spinning.
Her head drops into the groove of his neck as she curses under her breath.
"Shii…..oh god!" she clings to him, swears she can hear him smile. Hear it!
"Right there with you babe" he groans.
She bites at his collar bone, not babe.
Her teeth scrape against him, she nips at the skin in her mouth, tasting salt, his sweat, and the faint tang of alcohol, underneath it all him.
It's the him that draws her mouth back, pulls her tongue free and makes her suck, hard, at the meaty flesh of his neck.
He laughs, deep and throaty and oh… it ricochets through her already sensitive body and there is no way she is ever going to walk again, her legs, if they are still attached, are made of nothing but air and fluff, and he's talking again.
"…my angel."
She lets that slide, likes that one, likes when he moves just the way he is now.
Body grinding, surging back and forth, stopping suddenly, fingers against her ankles, nails scrape her feet. She groans because he's stopped and she wants more, needs more.
She hears something, watching the reflection, shoes dropping to the floor, a loud bang against the marble as one hit's the sink.
Deft fingers, skilled fingers, she loves his fingers, the strongest muscles he has when they are…
He moves again and she knows she's completely wrong, there are stronger more important parts of him that…
She moans.
He wont let her keep one thought steady before he moves and drags it from her brain.
Suddenly, again she has no idea how, she is being immersed in gloriously warm water.
The slow descent into the tub is like a million of his fingers tickling across her skin, she feels the water, warm and somehow soft, creeping up inch by inch.
It laps at her.
Flickers and cascades around them with each slow movement into its depths, the lights change colour, orange now, she smiles, she knows the meaning, sees he does too because he smiles back.
Orange promotes sexual healing and passion, designed to increase pleasure, enthusiasm, and sexual stimulation. They don't need any help in these areas but its fitting that this is the colour they end up immersed in.
She likes the serendipity of it.
She's sitting across his lap and he's murmuring still, his lips at her ears as his hands delve below the surface of the shimmering water.
He tells her he loves her, loves touching her, loves that she loves it…there is an abundance of love spilling from him and she laughs.
He watches her as the giggle escapes, raising herself up against him and dropping down again, she rolls her eyes, not with sarcasm or derision but with pleasure, with feeling and yearning.
His thumbs dig into her hip bones, the dimpled indentations in the curve of her pelvis, sweeping in arcs, back and forth, he rises up underneath her sending a wave of water surging towards her end of the tub.
He moves again, her head tipping, and water surges over the edge of the bath, it extinguishes the candles with little hisses of smoke.
Digging his nails into her skin as he surges, fingers moving in circles now, in time to the rotating of his thumbs and ohh…
He waits, watches, tender and quaking as she is, he waits for her. Feels the rush against him, tight gripping, soaring heat and he cant move because then it will be over for him as well. He just needs a few seconds of non movement and he can prolong it, he can watch her like this, again, and again.
"Stop," she moans, voice cracking, but deep and demanding, as she raises herself up, hands on his shoulders, before she lowers herself in one full and sliding sweep, feeling the deep burr, the almost growl that leaves his chest as he looks at her in confusion.
"Stop holding back." she whispers, she's higher than him now, her rise and fall putting her above his head, she rests her chin against his hair briefly before she slides back down and presses a kiss to his lips.
He groans.
"Are you…?"
"I…" she says kissing him, mouth loose and mellow as she glides over him "have been having enough fun for about twenty people!" she kisses him again.
"Well I knew I was good" he says a light smirk breaks through the desire that clouds his face, it's a tease he's barely able to manage.
"Don't make me hit you" she growls into his mouth, tipping him further over the edge "or bite you or kiss you" she smiles her lips against his as he pulls her closer, his hand at her back as the other braces against the side of the tub.
"I must be losing my touch if I hhha…have to make you kiss me."
"Oh…you like…making me do things!"
He moans, "I like making you do this." he pulls her hard against him, lips crushing together in a burning melting kiss, mouths meeting in a silent promise as she uses the grip on his shoulder to lower herself once more.
They both feel the change in their bodies, an almost mutual agreement to let it be now.
She pulls her head back, tilts in the water, knees at his hips, she doesn't bite her bottom lip but she sucks it into her mouth. Her hands squeeze his biceps, she has to hang on, she grips tight to him, tight to anything as the feelings hit her, he loves knowing this about her.
She feels him, hears him, watches him as he finally lets himself be as free and fluid as he makes her. His grip too tight for a fleeting second before its tender and gentle again.
She captures her name from his lips, tastes it, pulls it in with the love that he speaks next, holds it tight within her mouth, her chest, her heart, as she rocks and rides him.
Her eyes, heavy lidded, open the tiniest amount, he can barely catch her gaze through the curtain of her lashes, but he does.
Her breathing, ragged now, comes in quicker and quicker bursts and he watches the moment that third searing orgasm hits her with a sense of inevitability, its too late for him to prolong this any more.
He wants her, must move, has to, but she is trapping his legs, she is pinning him to the tub, water sloshing over the side in rampant waves as she shudders and moans and raises herself up the full length of his body before sliding down, a long and earth-shattering moan leaving her mouth as she does.
She raises her self high, drops down again, eyes closed.
Riding the waves.
The waves that ricochet through her mimic the surging of the water in the tub, she looks into his eyes as he watches her in wonder, she wants him to be the same.
She lowers herself once more, eyes closed, mouth finding his as, with an artful twist and clench, she pulls him with her.
She laughs, giggles, cant help it, the feelings bubbling through her are too ticklish, too intense.
She feels him shudder in a different way. An out-pouring of emotion, long, low, groan.
Both of them a gyrating mass. Quivering, aching, tingling.
Then he's laughing too, she catches at his face, hands holding his cheeks as she looks into his eyes, he's giggling as well.
He clings to her, holds her tight through aftershocks and twinges of electricity that strike at their joined bodies.
He lifts a hand from under the water, fingers pruned and wrinkly, laughing as it reaches for her face.
She collapses against his chest, and winds her arms around his neck again, sitting there for a while as she fights to catch her breath.
"I like giggly Kate" he says in a rush as his fingers skim her cheeks, brushing light across her red and swollen bottom lip.
"I'm not the only one who giggles." she says.
"I did not giggle" he replies on a huff, finally catching his breath, he squeezes her arms as she slides away from him.
She lifts off and pulls back to sit across his shins before slipping between his legs.
The water is rapidly disappearing around them, half spilled on the floor, over the edge of the tub, and the rest draining away, at some point they must have pulled the plug. Kicked it free, yanked the chain.
By mutual agreement, eye conversations and the reaching of theirs hands at the same time, the plug is replaced and fresh, warm, water starts to surround them.
"Shame you don't giggle, I was going to say it was hot!" he can hear the laughter in her voice. A smile across her very pink face as she meets his eye.
She moves, manages to crawl seductivly back down the length of the tub, she may actually consent to him buying her one of these, one day, eventually. In the way off future when it can be theirs not hers.
She turns so that her back is to him, lays along his front, his legs either side of her as she tips her head back into his chest.
"Ok definitely a giggle, you can call me hot now."
He reaches up and tangles a hand in her hair, smoothes the damp and curled tendrils back from her forehead, lifting it where it clings to his chest and twirling it in his fingers.
"Too late, moments past." Fingers light and graceful trace his arm. She raises her knees, flexing them against the ache caused by sitting across him in the bath.
More bruises.
"Stud?"
She snorts "Desperate!"
"Wounded" he moans, pouting behind her. She reaches a hand over her shoulder, without turning, and pushes the pout from his lips.
She lets out a long, suffering sigh, "Why can we never just lay here?" she asks "Why must I inflate your ego even more by telling you how glorious you are in bed?"
"Or the bath."
"Mmmhmmm" she leans into the trailing of his fingers, it's like hypnotism against her skin, it pulls her in, pulls her under.
"You should do this more often." she moans as he rakes his nails lightly through her eyebrow. His fingers skim her cheek, brush against her lips, before sweeping back up again. His thumb trails her jaw bone as her eyes drift shut.
She's relaxed, will laugh easily and ask for things she wouldn't normally. It's a post euphoria mind block that he is learning to play with, the more they do this the more he learns.
Little intricacies that emerge at the strangest time.
Four days with her is like a lifetime, and still like nothing at all, so much and not enough. He wants to look back on a life with her, full of memories, whilst still having it all before him to learn.
"Are u sex-happy Kate?" he asks grinning, it's a slow easy grin that just makes his eyes, he's tired now and he feels her getting heavier against him, they need to get out of the bath before they both fall asleep.
"Always" she sighs, then he feels her body shake as she laughs as well.
"Don't taint our word with your kinkiness woman." he says his fingers pinching her ear, a lot more gently than she would have.
"Don't steal my trick Castle." she says pinching his leg, hard, before using her nails to grip one of his leg hairs and yank it.
He flinches, but almost immediately the tiredness rolls over him again and he yawns, it's catching and she does the same.
"We should get out," he says making to sit up and lift her from him, but she leans back.
"In a minute," she yawns again "just…"
"You want to lay here and look at the view?"
Her fingers emerge from the water, ripple through it as she catches at his hand, she winds them together, her fingers through his, and turns her head so her cheek rests against his chest.
"I just want to lay here with you."