a/n "like the deserts miss the rain" I miss reviews
He rolled over in bed and blindly groped around, searching for her body. He was feeling rather frisky this morning and wanted to have a little fun. But to his dismay she was no longer there. He did not know why it surprised him. She was never there when he woke up. She had some crazy internal alarm clock which seemed to let her wake up hours before he would even begin to stir. When he stayed over at her place it was usually she who woke him up, making him leave so she could get ready for her day. Usually this unspoken arrangement suited him quite well, but on mornings like these he wished she was there when he woke up. He got up and took a cold shower instead, which helped very little when he saw her panties, forgotten in her haste to leave, and images of the previous night entered his head. Once again he lamented her absence, but it had been this way for months, since they had started...whatever the hell you wanted to call it.
It was not so much that she did not want to be there, because she did, but rather that she had been the one to give into him this time. That night at the party she had been secure in the knowledge that it had been he, not she who had been the one to break. She had thought herself safe after that night. She had assumed that their encounter, hot, fast and satisfying would be enough to purge her desire for him from her system. She had lusted after men before and usually a good fuck was enough to satiate her appetite. With him if it had done anything it had just made her want him more. He had become a constant presence in her thoughts and dreams and the more she tried to push him out the more it seemed to fuel her desire. She had fled town coming home, in hopes that a new environment would help her. It had not. And then he strolled into the diner, and one look at him and she knew she would do anything he asked her then and there. She had put up a mild defence, but it had been a mere formality. Both of them knew that she was going to give into him. The assured smile and gleam in his eye told her he enjoyed having her been the one to give in this time.
She had spent the first half of the day searching for the perfect outfit. The second half was spent bathing and primping. Promptly at eight she had parked her car in his driveway and made her way to the door. She rang the bell once and then leaned against the doorframe, pulling her coat closed with her free hand. The door opened and he looked at her with a cocky smirk. She let go of her coat, letting it fall open and watched in slow-motion the change in expression registering across his face. She took that opportunity to walk in, slam and lock the door behind her, grab his shirt and back towards the wall, pulling him towards her. When her back hit the wall she pulled him even closer and kissed him, wiping that stupid smirk of his face.
When he opened the door he was assured of soothing his wounded pride. He had given into her the night of the party. But she was here now, because she had broken, on his terms. And then she let go of her coat, the movement causing him to actually look at her and knew that he was assured of nothing. He had started the night guaranteed victory and in less than a second he had admitted defeat. She was better at the game than he had given her credit for. She stood there, hair hanging loosely around her face in soft waves, giving her an almost angelic appearance. Which contrasted sharply with everything from the neck down; for all she was wearing underneath the coat was a pair of black lace panties, a matching bra and a pair of black stiletto mid-calf boots. He felt himself instantly aroused at the picture she presented. He saw victory in her eyes. She casually strolled into the house, closed and locked the door and dropped her coat into a pile on the floor. She grabbed his shirt and slowly backed herself up against a wall. She pulled him closer and placed her lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. He stood there numbly for a second, allowing her to nip lightly at his neck and lips, enjoying the sensation too much to do anything but just stand there. The last time had been quick and to the point, and while enjoyable, did not allow him to get a first-hand experience on what was rumoured to be quite considerable skill. Once again he felt her lips on his, this time in a stronger kiss and he responded. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in closer to his body. She let her arms wander to his back where she began to explore, enjoying the feeling of the muscles beneath the shirt. The kiss became deeper with every second standing there until breathlessly he broke away and looked pointedly towards the staircase. She nodded her consent and he took her by the hand, leading her up the stairs towards his bedroom.
She walked in and silently admired the tasteful, masculine décor as well as silently thanking any and all divine beings that there were no candles, flowers or any of the common tools of attempted seductions. Both knew that seduction at this point was not necessary. He came up behind her, placing soft kisses along her neck and shoulders. She shivered, felt goose bumps form on her skin. She turned to face him, and moved him towards the bed. She was taking control and he had no objections to it. She pushed him down onto the large bed, getting onto it as well, straddling him. She bent her head towards his neck and proceeded to lick, suck and nibble him into insanity. At the same time her hands had un-tucked his shirt and her hands had made there way towards his chest. She was good with her hands, he gave her that. Slowly she began to unbutton the shirt, placing butterfly kissed on each new patch of exposed skin. Her hair formed a curtain around her face and the ends brushed up against his exposed abdomen and chest, causing him to shiver. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, sitting up, stopping all movements. She was still straddling him and slowly, but with enough pressure, started to grind her hips towards his. The action caused him to audibly groan. She licked her lips and smiled at the expected reaction, laughed quietly.
And then suddenly found herself face to face with him, wrapped in his arms as he sat up with her still in his lap. He started moving his fingers down her back, until he reached the hem of her sweater. He pulled the sweater upwards and she was temporarily blinded by fabric. She felt warmth on her chest, and when the sweater had been discarded into a corner she saw that it was his lips, slowly kissing, making their way up her neck, to capture her mouth. They sat there kissing, lost in the heat and frenzy of it. She moved against him and he groaned again. The fire between them was reaching its peak. They both hurriedly began to remove the last remnants of clothing, their last bit of restraint preventing them from just tearing them off. When both had tossed their clothes into the corners of the room, he grabbed her again and rolled her underneath him, kissing her again. He entered her, quickly and forcefully, and she moaned. Their rhythm was quick and only getting faster. Both were calling out loud the others name.
She had manoeuvred herself to be on top. She could feel herself reaching the edge and increased their pace to get their quicker. He too, felt himself near and pushed himself to get there faster. both were consumed by the fire of their passion, neither on capable of sensible thought. Even their words were incoherent at this point, more or less moans of pleasure. A fine film of sweat covered their bodies. Harder they went towards the peak.
She fell, and he followed.
Minutes later they were both still catching their breath. The ability for coherent thoughts was slowly returning and each stayed silent, enjoying the afterglow. When they had both sufficiently recovered, he leaned in closer to her, brushing away a damp strand of hair. She was somewhat surprised intimate, gentle gesture. She had not intended to but she ended up spending the night. Unable to resist the urge to sleep, both had indulged in what they thought would be a quick post-coital nap. Instead they had slept through the night and she woke up early the next morning wrapped in his arms.
Initially confused at her surroundings as morning fog cleared from her head, she was more surprised than anything else that she had slept through the night. She racked her brain, trying to recall when she had slept through the night in another mans bed, but could remember no such occurrence. She looked at him a moment, noticing that in his sleep he look so...innocent almost. She of course knew better, but she could not help but smile at the peaceful look on his face. She quietly went about the room, collecting her clothes and then slipped out the door. She walked quietly through the house, letting herself out. As she drove through the quiet, early morning sheets, she reflected on the night before, concluding that it had been satisfying on all counts. She figured that he would now definitely be out of her system.
Within hours though she found herself thinking about him, feeling the stirrings of desire. He too was feeling it, unexpectedly as well.
He patted the empty half of the bed once again; just to be sure she was gone. His amorousness having not subsided, he grumpily got up and went to the bathroom for the usual cold shower.
She stepped out of the shower, red from the heat of it. Every day she told herself it was the last time she would see him. But somehow desire overrode all other sensibilities and she found herself seeing him time and again. The months had not lessened the heat between them. If anything it was only getting stronger. Desire was controlling both their lives. It was pushing them together and every second of it was tearing her apart.