Daybreak
It's the nicest in the morning, when it's just his warm body against hers. Dimmed sunlight filters through the curtains and his hair is so velvet green in her hand. She runs her fingers through the smoothness of it. He's barely awake, his eyelids heavy.
It's the nicest when he looks at her, giving her that wry smile, that look in his eyes, coy and curious at the same time. He's watching her every move as if he's waiting to strike. Her body is smooth against his skin, still naked since last night. She runs her hand across his chest, tracing the marks and tattoos there, feeling the sound of his heart, before she leans down to kiss him, pressing their red mouths together and feeling the hunger grow.
He's lenient, slow, letting her kiss him. Her fingers tighten in his hair as she pulls his head towards her face. He would let her take her time if she wants, to let her take him fully into her mouth or eat her out like she's the last meal he'll ever have, but she's always so impatient.
He's watching her intently when she straddles him, slides down his chest, and plants one knee firmly on each side of him, pressing him into the mattress.
The covers are around them, she is tangled in them, and he laughs at her annoyance when she struggles to remove the soft fabric from him, to reveal his body completely to her in all his glory, he's hard for her. She raises up on her knees, takes him in her hand and slides down on him, and then his head hits the pillow again with a soft gasp.
He moans quietly and she's on him again, kissing him when his hands slide up her hips, holding her waist hard, pulling her against him with every movement. She feels it right underneath the surface, the tightening in the bottom of her stomach, of sickening anticipation if he were to tighten that grip and throw her onto the bed and resume control – something he's always striving for – and straddle her instead, pounding her into the bed until she's out of breath, but he won't, not right now.
She's rocking smoothly against him, in that rhythm that she knows so instinctively, keeping her eyes focused on his mouth and the place where they meet. His dry lips stretch, and he's smiling again. His hands are gentle and cold against her skin, cupping her curves. He leans in to bite her lip, pressing down gently as he groans to the taste of her skin breaking. She pants and moves faster, she's in perfect control, he's hers, yes, he is, and nothing can change that. Puddin' is there and all focused on her.
That control gets her off, she wants to have all of it when his eyes roll back and his back arches, only for her, his hips rising in a broken staccato to meet hers. She puts her hands on either side of his head on the mattress, supporting her weight when she's leaning over him, moving her hips gently, taking him in so deep he hits a spot inside of her that's making her quiver. He responds by thrusting harder against her.
She wants to tear into his throat and hear him groan and grunt and come undone for her, but she won't, right now. So she keeps rocking against him, up and down like she knows so well, and her own orgasm is coming on fast, approaching her without relent, so she quickens her pace, using his body like he is using hers, smearing lipstick all over and burying her nails hard into his hair when she feels herself tightening up around him.
The stars are so close, but it's not explosive and hard as when he's driving into her, no, it's softer but sudden and intense, pushing the breath out of her. She tightens up around him, her hips stuttering in their rhythm, quivering, dripping wet, and he's watching her with intense rapture.
His hand is on her clit, relentless and focused as he moves his fingers in steady movements, intent on driving her over that edge before she has a chance to slow down. He's pushing her towards it with a grin.
She falls forward when she comes, gasping, her lips pressing against the skin on his neck, contracting hard around him. His hips powerfully snap into hers, over and over, his arms wrap around her body in a tight grip, holding her in place. She can't move even if she wants to.
He's gasping against her mouth, his eyelids flutters and she feels him coming into her, filling her all up with the sudden warmth of his come, mixing with her own.
They both relax and she's sprawled across his body, as sweaty as hers, as she feels his fluids start dripping down her thigh. He exhales slowly, and Harley giggles sleepily against his throat. His hand moves through her hair, slowly, stroking some of it from her face, and they doze off again.
It really is the nicest, this way.
A/N: Reviews are always loved.