Like the previous chapter, this one is rated M but has been heavily edited down and is not sexually explicit. The full unedited version of this chapter can be found on A Teaspoon and an Open Mind.
Rose woke slowly late the next morning, awareness of her surroundings gradually twining its way into her consciousness. She could hear the sound of the ocean waves gently crashing against the shore, accompanied by the soft breeze flowing in through the room from the open veranda. The crisp cotton sheets felt deliciously cool against her body as she flexed her toes and stretched languorously. Her foot brushed against the lower leg of the man currently lying beside her, whose arm was resting across her waist. This wasn't a dream, Rose had to remind herself. She was in bed, with the Doctor, after making love all through the night and into the early morning hours.
The way they had been the night before, as if they could spend a lifetime and never get enough of each other, left Rose wondering how they had possibly held back for so long. One thing was certain: they were making up for lost time now. All of the Doctor's past restraint had gone out the window, and it was as if the floodgates had been opened.
With her drowsy eyes still closed, Rose inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the tantalizing scent of the Doctor which surrounded her and lingered on her skin. Rose continued languidly running her right foot up and down his lower leg, the coarse hairs tickling her toes, as she opened her eyes and her vision was filled with the sight of her Gallifreyan husband. He was propped on his elbow with his head resting on his hand, gazing down at her.
Her chest tightened and her breath hitched in her throat. Her love for him was once again overwhelming. She also didn't think it was possible for the Doctor to have ever been sexier than he was right at this moment. His hair was mussed in a way that made her want to immediately resume the activities that had led to its current style. Rose's eyes traveled from his, down to his soft lips, to his toned bare chest as she followed the smattering of hair that formed a line below his navel and disappeared temptingly beneath the sheet draped across his hips. Rose unconsciously licked her lips as her eyes raked back up to his. She inadvertently blushed as vivid memories of the previous night came flooding back. He gave her a knowing, smoldering grin.
"Sleep well?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he moved his free hand from where it rested at her waist and brought it to her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb.
Rose took his hand in hers and kissed the pad of his thumb, then drew it into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around the tip before releasing, and then kissing each digit in turn as he sighed deeply, very much enjoying her current attentions.
"I didn't actually get much sleep," she replied, smiling alluringly with the tip of her tongue peeking out between her teeth.
"Complaining?" he husked, lowering his head to within inches of her face.
"Never," Rose answered, reaching up to tangle her right hand in his hair and pull his head down to meet her lips.
He went freely. Rose deepened the kiss, tracing her tongue across his full bottom lip before plunging past his parted lips, then sweeping across the roof of his mouth as he groaned into hers. They continued ravishing each other with lips and tongues before they finally had to come up for air.
As Rose lay back simply gazing up at him, a look of wonder crossed her face. Her hand came up to stroke along his jaw. "I…I can actually kiss you," she remarked, almost in awe as the thought struck her. "I can touch you, and…"
The Doctor placed his hand over hers where it rested on his face. "I bloody well hope so," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I've become quite fond of it."
Rose laughed softly. "It's just…I have to keep reminding myself this is real, that this has actually happened between us. To think that just yesterday at this time we hadn't even…" she trailed off in thought.
"Does all this seem too soon, Rose?" There was a trace of uncertainty in his voice. "Maybe I should have—"
She chuckled. "Doctor, no one could ever say this was too soon for us. We didn't exactly just plunge into this." Her next words were hushed. "It's just that for so long I thought we could never have this."
There was regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry it was like that. I'm sorry that it took me so long before I was able to let this happen."
Rose stroked his cheek with her fingers. "Doctor, I don't have any regrets. I wouldn't have changed anything between us. And you were worth waiting for."
He smiled softly before leaning in for another lingering kiss.
They continued for several minutes just cuddling and gently caressing.
The Doctor ran his nose along her jaw, then nuzzled into her cheek and inhaled deeply as he whispered to her. "Oh, I love your scent," he husked. "It's a mixture of pheromones and hypotonic filtrate from your eccrine glands and—"
His seductive soliloquy was cut short by Rose bursting into a fit of giggles. He pulled back and looked at her, affronted. "I'm sorry," she finally managed, still giggling. "Doctor, I love you with all my heart and soul, but your romantic language in the bedroom really needs some work."
He pursed his lips in a thin line of insult, then twitched the corner of his mouth in a smile. "I didn't hear you complaining earlier when I told you, in great detail..." He then leaned in and began whispering naughtily in her ear, which quickly led to another round of intense snogging.
They finally came up for oxygen once again. The Doctor rested his forehead to hers, then eased back. With a single finger, he traced across her forehead, down over her cheek, then across her jaw. "You are beautiful," he murmured.
The Doctor was ever a quick study, apparently even when it came to romancing Rose in a way that could instantly steal her breath. Rose captured his hand and once again brought it to her lips. "So are you," she whispered against his hand as she pressed a butterfly kiss to his palm.
Rose then saw something adorable. A flush actually tinged his cheeks. For all of his bravado, she was learning he could have a rare, vulnerable side in bed. He didn't know how truly gorgeous he really was, and that just made him all the more irresistible to her.
She was about to lean forward for another kiss when he stilled her with a hand on her shoulder. "Just…lie there for a moment," he said softly.
Rose could tell by the look in his eyes he had something in mind. Her heart sped up with anticipation and she simply nodded. She watched as he turned over to the side of the bed and reached for something on the floor. Rose saw a flash of pinstripes as he rummaged through the pocket of his discarded jacket, then turned back over, now holding a sketch pad and pencil.
Rose swallowed. Yes, he most definitely had something in mind. Rose met his eyes. "Don't you…don't you already have a sketch of me?"
"Not like this." His voice was low, but his dark and aroused expression softened to tenderness when he realized her trepidation. He reached forward and drifted the backs of his fingers across her face.
"I want to capture you in this moment, Rose. Right here on the first morning of…"
"Our honeymoon?" she finished.
He hummed happily in response. "I suppose it is, yeah."
"Trust me?" his voice lilted up on the end in a question.
She wasn't entirely comfortable with this idea; but somehow that made it all the more enticing. And she did trust him with this. Of course she did. Rose bit her bottom lip, then nodded her consent.
The Doctor quickly turned over to the side of the bed once again to retrieve something else, then turned back towards her to sit back on his heels, the sheet slipping perilously low on his lap.
Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, Rassilon, Rose thought to herself (an absent notion somewhere in the back of her mind told her that particular expression in her head was an after-effect of their bonding), he was wearing…TheGlasses. Just how many fantasies did she have that went something like this? Regardless, Rose was quite certain no fantasy she'd ever had could have possibly lived up to this present moment.
The Doctor switched the pencil and pad to one hand while he reached towards her with the other. "Lift your head up a bit," he requested softly.
Rose did as he asked. She raised her head as he reached beneath her to sweep her hair back. She then lay back down as he fanned her hair out around her on the pillow like a golden halo. Her hands had inadvertently come to clutch the top of the sheet that covered her from the chest down, but the Doctor gently lifted one arm and placed it to rest behind the top of her head. He then took her other arm and positioned it down at her side. Hooking a finger under her chin, he tilted her head slightly towards him, then nodded, having her posed as he wished.
The Doctor had sketched her once before on the castle grounds in Kendal, and as magical as that moment had been, it was nothing like this. Rose focused on his eyes behind the dark rims of his glasses. His pupils were dilated with desire as he began sketching her features and transferring them to the page. Every time his eyes would flick from the paper up to hers, a wave of heat would wash over her from his smoldering gaze.
His drawing slowed and came to a stop. The Doctor sat the pencil down beside him and reached his hand towards her, his eyes darkening further. He ran one finger along the shell of her ear, across her jaw, down her neck and across the top of her chest, his feather-light touch causing her to shiver. He stopped as his finger reached the barrier of the sheet across her chest. The Doctor traced his finger teasingly just along the edge, then curled it around the top of the fabric.
"Okay?" he asked. He wanted this, but he also wanted her to be comfortable with it.
Rose knew he was leading up to this, but the thought still made her heart race and heat pool low in her belly. She slowly nodded, never taking her eyes off his. Exquisitely slow, he eased the sheet down, revealing her to his gaze.
Considering the fact that they had spent the entire night making love and exploring each other's bodies, Rose was caught off-guard by the level of self-consciousness she suddenly felt before him as he studied her intently. Instinctively, her right arm lying at her side began to move up over her chest, but he caught her by the wrist and placed her arm up over her head with the other as he shook his head.
"You're beautiful, Rose," he whispered, low. "Don't hide yourself from me. No more hiding, for either of us."
Rose released a breath and relaxed her arms.
He grinned slowly, the type of grin that really should come with a warning label for being able to cause a person to burst into flames. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear, his voice deep and gravelly as his fingers caressed up and down her thigh.
It seemed all Rose could do was nod in return as he straightened his glasses and resumed his task. Rose gave herself over to him completely, allowing him to position her any way he liked as he completed his sketch. For anyone else, this situation might have seemed kinky, but everything that passed between them as they explored this new level of intimacy was nothing less than beautiful. With every stroke of the pencil, every sweep of his eyes, the Doctor cherished her, showering her with love and reverence. He made her feel adored.
With the sketch finally complete, the Doctor set it aside, removed his glasses and then descended upon her, neither one able to hold back any longer.
They kissed until they were both panting breathlessly, then gave in fully to their passion.
-:-
Later, he drew Rose into his arms as she rolled into his side, laying her head on his chest as his hearts beat wildly beneath her. Slowly, they caught their breath and relaxed as the Doctor brushed a kiss over the top of her head, then pressed his lips to her temple as his hands stroked up and down her back.
As the Doctor's breathing gradually evened out, Rose realized something incredible: he was drifting off to sleep. It seemed she had finally managed to wear out this nine hundred plus-year-old Time Lord. Rose lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him, his face relaxed and features soft. For once in his very long life, he was at peace; and her heart clenched at how much she loved him. Rose lifted her hand and brushed the fringe back from his forehead and smiled fondly, then swept her fingers through his soft brown locks as he purred in sleepy contentment.
Rose laid her head to his chest once again. Her hand gently drifted up and down his chest, her fingers dancing through the soft hair. It was then an idea began to form. She eased herself up and reached over the Doctor to the table beside the bed, then settled back beside him.
The Doctor half-registered the feeling of Rose stirring in the bed beside him, and then the sensation of the sheet creeping down his form. He cracked an eye open and peered at her. Rose was now kneeling beside him, the sketch pad and pencil in her hands with…his glasses on her face. His throat suddenly went completely dry. In this moment he fully understood Rose's fondness for his glasses.
"I think," Rose slowly purred as her voice dipped low and she gave him a studious up and down gaze, "that I'd like to take up sketching as well." The Doctor released a growl and reached for her, but she ducked out of his grasp. "Now, now," she began, mock-seriousness in her tone, "I am the artist and you, my gorgeous Time Lord, are my masterpiece. And it has got to be said…," Rose winked and sighed appreciatively as she paid him the same compliment he had once given her, "that your anatomical proportions are very pleasing." She put the tip of the pencil to the pad. "Now it's my turn."