BDP36b
Ian used his control of her hands to turn her around. Mindful of what Moira had told him earlier about his voice, he whispered in her ear, "Lean forward and brace against the wall. I want to touch you."
She shivered at the intensity in his tone and did as Ian requested. He lifted her hair and moved it all to one side, allowing him to explore more freely. Moments ago Moira would have sworn she was exhausted, the tension of the last few days dissipated by the mind blowing pleasure she had so recently experienced. Yet her body responded to his resumed attention, her heart rate accelerating with anticipation.
Taking advantage of the exposed expanse of marble pale flesh, Ian nibbled lightly at the base of her neck, his hands running down her sides and around to cup her breasts. He kneaded them firmly, his thumbs brushing repeatedly over the hardened crests.
Moira whimpered and arched under his hands. The light teasing movements over her sensitive nipples were sending corresponding darts of pleasure down to her groin. Her hands flexed against the wall as she begged, "Ian please,"
"Please what?" He purred against her ear.
"You're an evil, evil man." Moira gasped, regretting ever telling him about the way his voice affected her.
"I haven't even begun to show you evil." Ian grinned devilishly behind her as he lightly pinched her aroused nipples. The urgency he had felt during their first joining had subsided into something more manageable, allowing him the breathing space to play.
"Then what.exactly, is.evil?" Moira panted, her breath coming short as he continued his delightful torment.
Ian chose to show her, instead of tell. He knelt behind her and licked, kissed and nipped from her ankles up. He paused to give extra attention to areas that made Moira jump, like the backs of her knees. He lingered on her thighs, using his hands to trace designs on the sensitive skin.
She was rapidly revising her definition of evil. To have him so close, without touching her where she burned for him was driving her insane. Moira shifted slightly, trying to tell him without words what she needed. He acquiesced to her demand, one finger brushing with teasing lightness over her labia. Moira gave a soft cry of pleasure and encouragement, hips pushing back in an attempt to increase contact.
"This is evil." Ian withdrew the questing finger, and grasped her hips to keep her from moving. He replaced his hand with his lips; placing butterfly kisses across her pubic mound. He delicately lapped at her entrance, intending to continue his teasing, but the scent and flavor brought his primal instincts roaring back to dominate his actions.
. His hands never leaving her hips as, with one swift motion, Ian was back on his feet. He pressed into her from behind, lost in the feel of her slick flesh closing around him. He thrust into her hard and fast, her cries spurring him to greater effort. Ian came in a blinding rush, shaking with the force of his orgasm.
As the spasms left him and the veil of hunger parted, he buried his face in the curve of Moira's shoulder. He hoped she had come with him, but he couldn't tell. In the heat of the moment, he had neither known nor cared, and holding back had never even entered his mind. With the beginnings of guilt he asked hesitantly, "Moira, are you.alright?"
"I feel wonderful." She purred. The afterglow left Moira completely relaxed. If she weren't pinned between Ian and the wall, she would have been just another puddle on the porcelain. In the back of her brain alarm bells were shrilling, but she just couldn't muster the energy to pay them any attention.
Ian turned her in his arms, wanting her facing him again. He needed to see her face. Moira gazed up at him, enjoying the way the water beads slowly moved over the strong planes of his face and spiked his eyelashes. She was perfectly content to stay here until she wrinkled up like an old prune.
He reached down to turn off the faucet. Someone might wonder why the water was running so long if he didn't. Besides, the shower wasn't going to muffle anything that went on in another room. Not that Ian particularly cared if anyone heard them mating. He grinned wolfishly as he realized their efforts at going unnoticed had, in all probability, failed. When they were together, it was difficult to remember to be silent. Damn near impossible, in fact. Ian knew he should be more concerned, but he couldn't find it in him to regret hearing the sound of his name uttered by his beloved in passion.
Moira found herself scooped up and carried like a bride over the threshold. No one had ever carried her like this, not even as a child. Dad had always hoisted her and Maria onto his shoulders when they grew to tired to walk. She snuggled into his chest and enjoyed the sensation of strong arms around her.
Effortlessly Ian made his way back into the bedroom with his precious cargo. He caught a glimpse in the dresser's mirror of the two of them. It was a picture worth a second look. He paused in front of the glass, admiring the way they fit together like two halves of a whole.
Her long hair was clinging wetly to him, covering his side in a cascade of black. Although the light wasn't good enough for him to see the water from the ends trickling across his hip and down his thigh, he could feel it like questing fingers. Ian hoped to have her touch him there, among other places, again soon. He would have to work on his control so he could return the favor, he knew, but doubted Moira would mind him practicing.
Once they reached the bed, Ian laid her out on the comforter. Moira looked up at him with slumberous eyes, and reached up one hand to beckon him onto the mattress. He didn't need to be asked twice. He settled himself beside her, and she half-rolled to drape herself across his chest. Both enjoyed the texture of skin against skin as they shifted, fitting themselves as close together as they could.
"We're soaking the bedspread." Moira murmured as she ran one hand down his chest.
"I'm beginning to suspect that you have a secret shower fetish." Ian agreed, a tiny smile curving his lips.
"If I didn't have one before, I'm well on my way to acquiring one. Although I don't think it would be much of a secret to you." Moira chuckled, a blush heating her cheeks.
Ian used his control of her hands to turn her around. Mindful of what Moira had told him earlier about his voice, he whispered in her ear, "Lean forward and brace against the wall. I want to touch you."
She shivered at the intensity in his tone and did as Ian requested. He lifted her hair and moved it all to one side, allowing him to explore more freely. Moments ago Moira would have sworn she was exhausted, the tension of the last few days dissipated by the mind blowing pleasure she had so recently experienced. Yet her body responded to his resumed attention, her heart rate accelerating with anticipation.
Taking advantage of the exposed expanse of marble pale flesh, Ian nibbled lightly at the base of her neck, his hands running down her sides and around to cup her breasts. He kneaded them firmly, his thumbs brushing repeatedly over the hardened crests.
Moira whimpered and arched under his hands. The light teasing movements over her sensitive nipples were sending corresponding darts of pleasure down to her groin. Her hands flexed against the wall as she begged, "Ian please,"
"Please what?" He purred against her ear.
"You're an evil, evil man." Moira gasped, regretting ever telling him about the way his voice affected her.
"I haven't even begun to show you evil." Ian grinned devilishly behind her as he lightly pinched her aroused nipples. The urgency he had felt during their first joining had subsided into something more manageable, allowing him the breathing space to play.
"Then what.exactly, is.evil?" Moira panted, her breath coming short as he continued his delightful torment.
Ian chose to show her, instead of tell. He knelt behind her and licked, kissed and nipped from her ankles up. He paused to give extra attention to areas that made Moira jump, like the backs of her knees. He lingered on her thighs, using his hands to trace designs on the sensitive skin.
She was rapidly revising her definition of evil. To have him so close, without touching her where she burned for him was driving her insane. Moira shifted slightly, trying to tell him without words what she needed. He acquiesced to her demand, one finger brushing with teasing lightness over her labia. Moira gave a soft cry of pleasure and encouragement, hips pushing back in an attempt to increase contact.
"This is evil." Ian withdrew the questing finger, and grasped her hips to keep her from moving. He replaced his hand with his lips; placing butterfly kisses across her pubic mound. He delicately lapped at her entrance, intending to continue his teasing, but the scent and flavor brought his primal instincts roaring back to dominate his actions.
. His hands never leaving her hips as, with one swift motion, Ian was back on his feet. He pressed into her from behind, lost in the feel of her slick flesh closing around him. He thrust into her hard and fast, her cries spurring him to greater effort. Ian came in a blinding rush, shaking with the force of his orgasm.
As the spasms left him and the veil of hunger parted, he buried his face in the curve of Moira's shoulder. He hoped she had come with him, but he couldn't tell. In the heat of the moment, he had neither known nor cared, and holding back had never even entered his mind. With the beginnings of guilt he asked hesitantly, "Moira, are you.alright?"
"I feel wonderful." She purred. The afterglow left Moira completely relaxed. If she weren't pinned between Ian and the wall, she would have been just another puddle on the porcelain. In the back of her brain alarm bells were shrilling, but she just couldn't muster the energy to pay them any attention.
Ian turned her in his arms, wanting her facing him again. He needed to see her face. Moira gazed up at him, enjoying the way the water beads slowly moved over the strong planes of his face and spiked his eyelashes. She was perfectly content to stay here until she wrinkled up like an old prune.
He reached down to turn off the faucet. Someone might wonder why the water was running so long if he didn't. Besides, the shower wasn't going to muffle anything that went on in another room. Not that Ian particularly cared if anyone heard them mating. He grinned wolfishly as he realized their efforts at going unnoticed had, in all probability, failed. When they were together, it was difficult to remember to be silent. Damn near impossible, in fact. Ian knew he should be more concerned, but he couldn't find it in him to regret hearing the sound of his name uttered by his beloved in passion.
Moira found herself scooped up and carried like a bride over the threshold. No one had ever carried her like this, not even as a child. Dad had always hoisted her and Maria onto his shoulders when they grew to tired to walk. She snuggled into his chest and enjoyed the sensation of strong arms around her.
Effortlessly Ian made his way back into the bedroom with his precious cargo. He caught a glimpse in the dresser's mirror of the two of them. It was a picture worth a second look. He paused in front of the glass, admiring the way they fit together like two halves of a whole.
Her long hair was clinging wetly to him, covering his side in a cascade of black. Although the light wasn't good enough for him to see the water from the ends trickling across his hip and down his thigh, he could feel it like questing fingers. Ian hoped to have her touch him there, among other places, again soon. He would have to work on his control so he could return the favor, he knew, but doubted Moira would mind him practicing.
Once they reached the bed, Ian laid her out on the comforter. Moira looked up at him with slumberous eyes, and reached up one hand to beckon him onto the mattress. He didn't need to be asked twice. He settled himself beside her, and she half-rolled to drape herself across his chest. Both enjoyed the texture of skin against skin as they shifted, fitting themselves as close together as they could.
"We're soaking the bedspread." Moira murmured as she ran one hand down his chest.
"I'm beginning to suspect that you have a secret shower fetish." Ian agreed, a tiny smile curving his lips.
"If I didn't have one before, I'm well on my way to acquiring one. Although I don't think it would be much of a secret to you." Moira chuckled, a blush heating her cheeks.