'Young is the night
It feels so right
Now that U're mine
Let's take our time
The man in the moon is smiling
4 he knows what I'm dreaming of
Tonight is the night 4 making slow love.'
Prince, Slow Love
The storm rages outside, rain charged with thunderous energy, thrumming furiously against her window panes as though wanting to join them. The only soundtrack to their loss of control, it mimics their aggressive kisses, fighting for dominance, all lip and tongue, desperate for release. Two Alphas, unwilling to really yield power, but too turned on to not fall into each other's arms, if only for tonight, under the cover of darkness. Steve again presses his body against Catherine's, grinding against her pelvis through his pants, and she throws her head back, leaving the nape of her neck exposed, feeling his arousal. He bites her ear, inhaling her scent, moving downwards with his tongue, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. Moving back up, he reaches her chin, stopping in his tracks, looking at her. Her eyes are closed, but at the sudden loss of contact, she opens them with an inquiring, pleading look, furrowing her brow. He simply smiles the most honest smile she's ever seen on him and tells her, with a low voice:
"Cath, I want to take you right here, but I'm afraid I'll be too rough with you, you're hurt. It's been too long, so I am more animal than lover, right now."
His words cause a surge of adrenaline to shoot through her body, shivers travelling down her spine and leaving her insides on fire, brain short circuiting. The only relief she can get for that is to breathe deeply, closing her eyes and filling her lungs with air.
"That makes two of us. Just do it, wherever, however, I don't care. I need you inside me right now, you're not going to hurt me, I feel no pain," Catherine whispers, eyes glazed over, desire and want invading her like a flood. She's past any rational thought, at this point, and doesn't even dwell on his 'it's been too long'.
Steve is beyond aroused at hearing her words. Quickly, he opens her trouser button, slips his fingers beneath the band of her panties and carefully pulls them down together with her pants, two thirds of the way down her thighs. He releases his hold on her and lets her legs reach the floor, holding her still against the jamb with his body, for fear of her falling forward, remembering her injuries. She's now oblivious to what's happening around her, eyes lost, trying to regain control of her breathing. Pushing her against the jamb with one hand, he kneels, leaning into her to trail kisses down her stomach. He pulls her pants out of her legs in two swift motions, not wanting to waste any more time, leaving her panties where they ended up, down her thighs. Getting up again, he grabs her by the waist, lifting her off the floor again, propping her against his body with the help of his right leg. Catherine suddenly opens her eyes and looks down between them; she extends her legs to prop herself against the jamb, pushing her bottom against the other side and reaches for his waist, pushing his pants and underwear down as far as she physically can. For the purpose of what she needs, it'll do, she thinks. Looking back up, she throws him a beckoning look, her pants quick and deep, mouth half open urging him to kiss her again, which he does. As soon as his body squeezes hers, she can feel his hardness rubbing against the inside of her thighs, driving her insane with want; she wraps her arms tightly around him and digs her nails into his back, losing control.
A thought fleetingly crosses Steve's mind; this is not the way he wanted to physically be back with Catherine, after so long. But he can't help himself, he's hopeless when it comes to this woman, and he needs to bury himself in her right now. Suddenly, he hears Catherine gasp, eyes wild, alarmed look on her face.
"Cath?" And her name on his lips has never sounded like this, reverent, adoring. "What is it?" He's trying to calm her down, but also reassure himself, as he hugs her again, silently asking her to not move away from him.
"I… I…" She stutters, but remains in his arms, scooting down his body a little. Who knows how, but she manages a sliver of clarity exactly at the last moment. "Steve, it's not that I don't want this, because God knows I do…" And she cringes for finally admitting it, but it's more than clear to him that she obviously wants him as badly as he wants her. The thought turns him on even more.
"OK," he says, smiling, happy at hearing her words. "What, then?"
"When did you…?" She sounds embarrassed, but she's actually trying not to think about him with her, in bed.
"When did I what, Cath?" He whispers sweetly at her, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. She closes her eyes and leans into it.
"I'm sorry for asking, but I need to know. When did you last get tested?" Catherine casts her eyes down, not wanting him to see her pain.
"Catherine, you suppose, for a moment, that I would be here, about to make love to you, if there was any chance that I had an STD?" Steve says, looking her in the eye. He understands her question, but she must know that he would never put her in any danger.
Her relief is palpable, she loves that he said 'make love' instead of 'have sex', and she bows her head down, excusing herself. "Sorry, Steve, but I had to ask."
He lifts her chin up, to look her in the eye adoringly, smiling. "I understand. You?"
"Yeah, no, I'm fine," she dismisses him immediately, holding onto him for dear life, still feeling his erection prodding impatiently at the juncture of her thighs, like a reminder. She loves to know she is the cause of it; it's primal, but they're animals, after all.
"I don't have any condoms on me, sorry… wasn't counting on this," he goes on, embarrassed smile gracing his features. Jesus, at this point, would getting her pregnant be so bad?
And she loves him a little bit more for that. Pointing to herself, she says, with a coy smile "Birth control shot." Jealousy spears through him at the thought of another man seeing her naked, touching her, so he closes his eyes and hugs her, kissing her on the shoulder, fervently. She reads him perfectly; after all, it's not as though she hasn't wanted to do the same, tonight. But reverence is not what she wants out of him, right now, so she whispers in his ear, with a sultry voice: "Now make good on your threat and fuck me, Commander."
Staring at her in stunned surprise, another wave of pure adrenaline punishes Steve's entire body, all his blood rushing south. He's so turned on by her words that he reaches for both her top and bra and bunches them up against her neck. He hasn't seen her naked in a long while, so he moves back a sliver to contemplate her body, once more: raven hair against alabaster skin, the shape of her beautiful breasts moving in tune with her labored breathing, taut abdomen, a landing strip of hair leading to heaven. Steve can't keep his hands off her and attacks her neck, raking her sensitive flesh with his teeth, sending shivers down her spine. Catherine closes her eyes and tilts her head back, abandoning herself to the sensations claiming her, letting her hands rest on his head and pulling his hair in the process. He looks at her reverently, and, opening his hands, moves them up to cup her breasts in his hands, exploring the soft hollow beneath each one, kneading the soft skin. Feeling the pale pink, puckered nipples poke at the center of his palms, he lightly pinches one, causing a low moan to escape her lips. Steve rubs the other between his fingers, and then traces the soft skin of her areola, murmuring, 'You're so beautiful.'
Uncomfortable from his intense look and words, she shifts and before she can move away, Steve leans in again, capturing one of her tight nipples in his mouth. Catherine's instinctive reaction is to utter a muffled cry and buckle forward, cradling his head against her breast, as Steve slides his tongue over the other nipple, reaching for the first between his fingers, now more slippery. Catherine feels a restless fire slowly building within her, and she opens her eyes, looking pleadingly at him. Her breathing has become erratic, sending short puffs of breath against his skin. Suddenly mumbling a desperate 'more, Steve,' the impatience in her voice fills him with unadulterated exhilaration. The craving that's been gnawing at him, ever since he arrived, relents slightly at being able to touch her skin and taste her flesh, calming the storm brewing inside him. However, he can feel it bubble beneath his cool flesh, just waiting to erupt. They're about to finally be united as one, after years of not knowing if he would ever even see her again, and the feeling is overwhelming for him.
Slowly reaching a finger between her open legs, Steve parts her folds, whispering 'You're so wet' in her ear, able to smell her desire for him. Catherine's slow fire has turned to a fever burn, starting in her stomach, spreading down to her core. She whimpers and sucks in a breath, giving a small laugh, whispering 'your fault,' making him smile, in turn, in awe of her. Asking for her permission with a nod of the head, Catherine's answer is to simply grab his buttocks and moan again, his flesh now rubbing her in just the right spot, with the promise of release. About to lose control, he grabs her waist and buckles upwards, fiercely thrusting into her, the warm, moist embrace engulfing him, simply heaven. What he's feeling right now, is not of this world and he had all but forgotten – or shoved to the deepest recesses of his mind – what it feels like to be burrowed deep within her, like this, intimately bonded in pleasure.
Catherine opens her eyes wide at the feeling, breath catching in her throat, her sex clenching with need and her blood pulsing with heat. He pulls her up then slams her down again quickly, setting the pace for his pounding and bracing himself on one side of the jamb, the other on her non-bruised hip, making her smile at how careful he's trying to be. She fixates her eyes on his, helping him with his fierce up and down drives, moaning 'Steve!' as she grinds her clit down against his pelvis. Nails digging into his shoulders and raking across his back, Catherine urges him on, interspersing her pleas with moans. Heart rate racing, dilated pupils and flushed cheeks, her breathing becomes shallower and jagged. Steve only has discernment to keep pounding into her, jamb giving him the leverage he needs, and he knows he won't be able to last much longer; it's been a long time, and this is Catherine, after all – two determining factors for him. But he must try, nonetheless, pride and all.
"Cath, please stop moaning," he whispers, strained laughter escaping him. "If you do, I won't last much longer." He looks so very sexy, that she's struck by a glimmer of cruel clarity at this exact moment, and knows she'll always love this man.
Mirroring his laughter, she moans again. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you."
"Hell of a memory to hold on to…" And he slows down to an almost halt, making her whimper, suffering with her.
Catherine smiles suggestively at him, with the promise of what's to come. "Oh, but it won't be the last. It just means you'll have to make it up to me, later…"
He just wants to kiss that smirk off her face, so he doesn't answer her. Overwhelmed by her suggestion, tightening his gaze, a muscle in his jaw flexes as he swallows hard. He groans, shifting his hips and restarts his movements, first a rhythmic rocking, then, as he loses control, burying himself in her even deeper. Her hands go up, reaching for the top casing, holding onto it for leverage, and she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him in, willing him to grind against her just a little harder, hitting the right spot. Her body accommodates and clenches around him, hot, tight and wet, the heat of his skin burning her. Catherine bites Steve's neck and shoulders as she lifts her hips to meet his powerful thrusts, faster, harder, almost frantic for release. His hand grips her hip tight, fingers digging into her skin as he thrusts one last time and suddenly, he cries out, body shuddering violently and head thrown back in pure bliss, spilling into her.
They stay still for a few minutes, looking each other in the eye, Steve breathless and panting heavily. He touches his forehead to hers, as she smiles lovingly at him, silently praying that she could stay like this forever. Suddenly, Catherine starts to feel cramps in her legs from the strain and slowly lowers them, still in Steve's supporting embrace. He pushes his body into her again, kissing her on the mouth and wraps his own arms around her torso, holding her tight against him and remaining deep inside her. Next, he supports his chin in the crook of her neck, out of breath still, and Catherine raises her hands to run them through his hair, trying to get to grips with her emotions. She can feel a sheen of perspiration blanketing her body, suddenly cooling her and her sexual frustration, off. Steve can't find the strength to talk, while he comes down from his high, trying to get his breathing under control. After a few more minutes, his embarrassment gets the better of him and he disentangles himself from her, looking her in the eye, while pulling his pants up over his open shirt.
"I'm sorry, Cath, this really did not go as planned."
"You're kidding, right? What plan?" Catherine retorts, amused.
"You know exactly what I mean, and again, I am sorry."
"Why? Are you planning on leaving soon?"
"Cath…"
"Seriously! Come on, Steve, we live in the real world, can we please get over this idea that couples are supposed to come at the same time?"
"You're amazing, you know that?" He looks seriously at her, an amused smile finally breaking out, unwilling to go into it any further, and brings his lips down to hers, kissing her hungrily.
After a second to consider their circumstances, Steve decides against redeeming himself in their current position and, holding her tight, moves them away from the wall. She barely registers the change of pressure, but has to open her eyes when he whispers at her, "sofa?" and can only nod silently, repeatedly, urging him on, kissing him again. He steps back, towards the large leather sectional, and in a swift move turns them 90 degrees and carefully lays her down, leaning on the back of the sofa with his right hand and propping his left knee on the edge, to keep from falling heavily on top of her. He takes a moment to contemplate his feelings at this precise moment. The woman he loves is in his arms, and he's finding this reality difficult to grasp, because if he's honest with himself, he's been secretly dreaming of this moment for so long, always unsure of how she would receive him or even if she might have moved on to another lover. He breathes in deeply, banishing those thoughts from his mind, aware of her inebriating smell, suddenly realising how much he's missed it and her. He brings his nose to her neck and glues his lips onto it, sucking vigorously, scraping the flesh with his teeth. Catherine moans and releases her arms from his waist, moving one up to his head, running the fingers through his hair. Steve then starts to descend into her collar bone, tracing the outline with his wet tongue, while slowly letting the rest of his body rest on top of hers, carefully, weighing her down. Catherine spreads her legs to accommodate and hold him, keeping her eyes closed and her right hand on his back, lowering it to his waist.
The moment she finds the edge of his shirt, tucked away in his pants, she pulls it out, annoyed at it for still covering his body. She then pushes her elbow down on the sofa, hand on his chest, propping herself up to a sitting position, and pulls down on the shirt sleeves, motioning for him to get rid of it. He does so in two swift moves, smiling wickedly at her and puts his right arm on her back, preventing her from lying back down. Catherine shivers, looking him dead in the eye, anticipation killing her. Steve pulls her bra and top up again, in one swift motion, whispering "hands up" at her, passing them through her head. Grabbing the fabric, he lays it behind her as a makeshift pillow, making Catherine laugh at the ridiculousness of having several pillows available on the sofa, somewhat diffusing the heavy air between them.
Wanting to leave her physically comfortable, and worried not only about her previous injuries, but also any he may have just inflicted on her with their aggressive romp against the door jamb, Steve grabs a pillow from the back of the sofa and places it underneath her pelvis, straightening her legs as he gently caresses them. While doing so, his eyes land on her hip, where he can just make out a seriously angry, black bruise extending from her waist to her thigh, making him again wonder what exactly happened in Afghanistan. Heart constricting with fear, he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, to try to dissipate the anger. Reverently leaning forward, hunched over, he kisses a path down her abdomen, peppering her hip with the lightest kisses, making her tingle all over. He stops for a moment to circle her navel, kissing it, something which takes her completely by surprise. She inhales sharply, hands back on his head, and starts to feel the effects of his kisses in between her legs again, as he continues on his path down to her pelvic area, painfully slow. She throws him a hungry look, urging him to return to her kisses and embrace. But Steve has other ideas and smiles a devilish grin at her, continuing to lavish his attention on her midsection, moving his hands upwards and pushing her down on the sofa, gently. He looks intently at her breasts, nipples hardened under his heated gaze and gently cups each breast with a hand, caressing them softly, reassured by their warmth and how well they fit in his hands.
Slowly, he changes the direction of his kisses and starts to make his way up her body. Catherine is lost in a world of sensations; she hasn't been this wired, this sensitive to touch since… they last slept together, she remembers, and then, it had been a knowing goodbye. She had wanted to commit him to memory, every curve of his body, the way his skin smelled, its warmth, how he reacted to her touch, how he moaned at her. She suspected he would be angry at her for leaving without so much as an explanation and wouldn't want to maintain a long-distance relationship for much longer, and she had been right. Pushing those sad memories aside, for now, Catherine concentrates on his ministrations, fully enjoying the effect they are having on her body, closing her eyes. She opens her legs wide, inviting him, nestling him, and lowers her hands to his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Steve stops just below her ribcage and chooses a pressure point to suck and lick, moving up through her midline, avoiding her breasts and not fully lying on top of her. He's overwhelmed with emotion and needs a minute to collect himself.
Suddenly, the forgotten JBL in the corner, that had been quietly and inconspicuously entertaining guests all night, comes to life with "Kiss and say goodbye", by the N-Phase. Catherine can't help but wonder; it's one of her favourite songs, and the lyrics go on about a couple's last rendez-vous, since one of them has ties with someone else and must therefore end the relationship. Her amusement turns bitter, as she looks up to the ceiling and silently asks God if he's sending her a message. Ever since the middle of her third week in Montana, she's known this was probably in the cards. She just didn't know when it would happen. She had thought that maybe she was imagining things, or that Steve would resist his urges, since he was the one who was seeing someone else, and Catherine had sworn to herself that she would never be THAT woman. But resisting him, under these circumstances, has proven impossible. She's made serious peace with it, by this point. Catherine looks down, indulgent smile on her face and gently raises his chin to make him fully look at her, full of love for this man, still.
"What's wrong, Steve? Having second thoughts? We can stop, if you want…," she says, suddenly afraid he's remembered he has a girlfriend waiting for him, back home.
"You and me, it's been too long. I guess I still can't believe we just…" he answers, in awe of her. Pinning her with a glare, he continues, intense. "With you, there are never second thoughts, do you hear me? Never."
Eyes boring into hers, Catherine believes him fully, making her dry swallow. 'So you have missed me, just as much as I missed you,' she thinks, heart exploding in her chest, giddy with happiness. Giving Steve a sexy look, she runs her hands down his chest, reaching his cargo pants, clumsily fumbling with the zipper. She silently wonders how he managed to dress himself so quickly after their romp against the door, annoyed that his underwear is, once again, attached to his body. She huffs, frustrated and he laughs heartily at her, loving their tender moment.
"Now, Lieutenant, patience is a virtue, ever heard it said?"
"To hell with patience, off, off!"
Smiling proudly at her, Steve gets up and quickly discards his lower-body garments, unashamed of his nudity, never diverting his intense gaze. Catherine's eyes wander south, on his body, and she can't help a nostalgic exhale. He laughs again, proud at being able to make her sigh like she just did, after so long, and asks again:
"Cath, are you sure you're OK with this? I don't want to force you into anything, despite what I said in the heat of the moment …," he says, now slightly embarrassed at what he'd said earlier. 'You're raking in the embarrassments today, Steve.'
"Maybe you're right, Steve, let's not," she deadpans.
He just stands there, shocked, looking like a lost child. Not wanting sadness to mar the moment, Catherine looks him in the eye, extending her hand, and smiles reassuringly:
"Steve, come here, please."
He moves to the edge of the sofa, facing her, deflated and despondent, reaching for her hand, nonetheless. She grabs it and pulls him down, scooting towards the inside of the sofa, motioning for him to sit down. Never looking away from him, she moves his hand to her abdomen, splaying it above her navel. Slowly, moving his hand down, Catherine slightly parts her thighs, until his fingers comb through her pubic hair and reach the damp folds of her core, sliding freely through her. At Steve's surprise and aroused look, she smiles and tells him, very calm:
"Welcome back to my body."
He closes his eyes momentarily, stilling his hand, feeling an actual jolt to his heart, burning him. Then, slowly scooting back, he kneels at her feet, bending her legs at a 90 degree angle with her thighs. Moving his hands to her knees, Steve slowly presses her thighs open, never taking his eyes off her. For a moment, she's surprised at the level of intimacy they're sharing and starts to close them, but he gives her a gentle shake of the head, faint smile on his lips.
"No, don't, I want to see all of you," he whispers. "You're beautiful, especially when I look up from between your legs." And slowly, he meaningfully moves his eyes down to her core.
Her breath hitches and she blushes again, feeling her cheeks warm, but makes no move to close her legs. His eyes come up and look at her, and they share a complicit smile.
"What now, Commander?" Catherine says, smiling naughtily, anticipation killing her.
"Now I make you mine again." And he's being serious, she realises. It makes her feel cheap.
"Cut the possessiveness crap, sailor. It's endearing, but not appropriate for what we're doing here," she replies, a bit more aggressively than she had meant. Then, she smiles dismissively at his stunned face, shrugging.
Ignoring her condescension with an indulgent smile of his own, showing no signs of being offended, he climbs over her slowly, in between her open legs, and reaches for a stray lock of her hair, stuck to her neck, brushing it away. He looks down at her with such tenderness, it makes her heart ache. Slowly, supporting his weight on his left elbow, he slants his mouth over hers, capturing it in a slow burning kiss, spearing her with his tongue, hard and deep, foreshadowing what's to come. He slowly lies down on top of her, careful to avoid her sore spots, running a hand down her body. Catherine's hands come up to his head again, raking his hair, and she pulls him to her, loving the weight of his body pressing down on hers. Suddenly, she becomes aware of Steve's erection against her core and nervously brings her right hand down, sneaking it in between their bodies at hip level, stroking him and reaching between his legs to cup him. He growls low and deep in his throat at the soft touch of her fingers along his hard length, muscles bunching and flexing as he fights for control of his hips, instinctively thrusting into her hand, despite himself. Steve's trying to control his urges, but he wants her so badly, his whole body aches, so he sits back on his heels, and takes a moment to calm himself down, taking a deep breath, eyes closed.
As he opens his eyes, he smiles wickedly at her, lowering his body to the couch again. Slowly and carefully, he raises her left leg, resting it on the back of the sofa and moves forward, propping her right leg on his shoulder. She thrusts her hips upward and starts to hum, so he sneaks his hands between the pillow and her bottom, kneading the soft skin, angling her towards his face. When he lowers his mouth to her, feeling the heat radiating from her core, Steve whispers "relax, just let yourself go," and she has a mind to object, but his breath against her damp skin is too much to bear. So she does as he asks, nervous about what this new level of intimacy will mean tomorrow.
The first stroke of his warm tongue just barely touches her skin, glimmering with moisture, but the promise of what's to come makes her arousal spike so sharply, it becomes outright pain, making her hiss and her whole body jump. She contracts her thighs slightly, but doesn't close them or ask him to stop. He moves his left hand from under her to go around her leg and over her pelvis and spreads her open with his thumb and index finger, deepening the intimate contact, feeling his own manhood throb painfully with want, yearning for release inside her. He breathes out a strained "OK?", and her reply is to sink her bottom onto the pillow, pushing herself onto him.
Steve's hair tickles her right thigh, and suddenly, he moves his hand from under her, and pins her arms at her sides. She's captive, subdued, and the confinement feels too intense, so she discreetly tries to free herself, but he's not having it.
Raising his head, he looks at her. "You're going to come on my mouth. Stop trying to fight it. Stop trying to fight me."
At his words, Catherine decides to let go, unable to control her muscles, which have taken on a life of their own. Lips grazing against her salty, wet flesh, Steve savours her in slow motion, his senses on overload. As his lips part, his mouth engulfs her completely and he darts out his tongue back and forth, to lick her flush, moisture-glazed flesh that pulses at his touch. Catherine whimpers loudly, hands grasping at the pillow for something to hold on to. Every fiber of her being is electrified, sending her senses reeling and her body into meltdown. The moment she feels his tongue licking and tracing swirls around the area where the tingling vibration is almost unbearable, she bucks against him, and Steve takes her movement as an invitation to lick harder. Caught up in her scent and taste, which bring back so many wonderful memories, he closes his mouth over her clit, carefully sucking and kissing, before flattening it against her with more pressure.
Slowly, he drives his middle finger inside her, upward, deep, guiding her pleasure along with his tongue, in a steady rhythm. She moans again as he inserts a second finger, letting her knees fall completely open, a lightning storm behind her eyes as she grinds her hips down against his mouth, desperate for a crescendo of stimulation. He does it again, but faster, using gentle suction to draw her most sensitive spot into his mouth, alternating between firm suction and shallow penetration, feeling her slippery muscles clench and shudder around his fingers. He repeats the pattern again and again until she rocks her hips encouragingly and fists the pillow, arching her hips off the sofa, and the noises she is making are the most erotic sounds he's ever heard in his life. She feels his fingers accelerate with her response and, suddenly, they are no longer inside her, and that loss of sensation makes her whimper. She uses her last shred of control to open her eyes and look down, and he's looking at her, an enigmatic look on his face. Catherine just lays her head back down, closing her eyes, and Steve settles between her legs again, intertwining his right hand with her left, and smiling because she has finally given up control to him. He traces rhythmic up-and-down and circular paths with his thumb back on her clit, and thrusts his tongue deep inside her, as far as he can, devouring her. His right hand leaves hers and travels up, reaching for her breast and gently squeezes her nipple. Her breaths become shorter and shorter by each flip of his tongue, until she bucks upwards, in his hold. Suddenly, a memory comes to her mind, and she realises she hasn't felt like this since... before Najib, and the warmth spreads throughout her body like wild fire, pleasure almost intolerable.
"Come for me, Cath," he murmurs, before stroking her in long, sure licks, inhaling her scent and tasting the wetness that explodes along his tongue. His touch is sending jolts of electricity along her body, right to her brain.
"Steve, please don't stop," she begs, gasping, instinctively lifting her hips higher, as he holds her down and goes on, relentless.
Pleasure and tension mix together and build within her, crying for release, so Steve pulls her legs closer together, to increase the stimulation at a steady pace with his tongue, going back in with his two fingers. Catherine holds on for as long as she can, wanting to draw out the pleasure, flashes shooting behind her eyes from the jolt of electricity while on the edge, as it gathers the energy to come. She can feel her skin tightening and her body quivering, until the most glorious sensation just flares up, orgasm breaking explosively. Catherine desperately reaches for something to hold on to, thighs clamping around his head, legs trembling, shaky cry on her lips. Her back bows off the couch as the orgasm rages on, relentless, inexorable, core grinding against his fingers and mouth, and he keeps his tongue on her clit and softly caresses it while she climaxes. Her breasts are covered in perspiration, her nipples hard and her mouth is open, breaths ragged, eyes closed shut. When she finally stills, he slowly pulls his fingers from within her and brings her down slowly with gentle kisses and touches, until her sensitized flesh protests and she delicately moves his mouth away.
Steve slowly kisses his way back up Catherine's body, pressing his lips against her skin, burning her with his touch. "I love the way you taste."
He kisses her mouth, and she tastes herself on his tongue. As the kiss deepens, she feels his hard length burning against her, seeking her softness, rubbing her wet skin. She whimpers involuntarily at the overload of sensations, and he pauses, lifting his head. "Are you all right?" he asks, feeling her racing pulse, worried.
"I can't take any more of this right now," she manages to mutter, between gasps. "It's too much. Please."
"Mmmm," he murmurs. "Yes, you can."
"Seriously, Steve. Please."
Once again, he draws closer to her sex, and stops, making her whimper slightly. His tongue licks up one side of her labia, and down the other, just barely touching her clit and making her hips squirm. She moans, body tingling with pleasure, as he fingers her, stroking her deeper and faster, mouth sucking and licking her in rhythm with her pulse, his own desire painful, now. Sensing she's coming close to another orgasm, Steve increases his rhythm, turned on by her soft moans. A ragged cry breaks out of her until she is swept up in the torrent of hot contractions, wave after wave crashing through her, climax pulsing rhythmically, sending her over the edge into oblivion, losing control.
Sweaty and exhausted, muscles turned to mush, Catherine feels Steve stroke her through the last of her climax, gently, slowing down in tandem with her labored pants, until her tremors subside. Climbing his way back up her body with feather light kisses, he claims her mouth, desperate to see her face as her pleasure rolls on. He lies on top and to the side of her and they stay like that, for a long time, both lost in their own thoughts.
Foremost in Catherine's mind is the feeling of loss of control she just experienced and how wonderful it felt; to be able to let herself go, free of inhibitions, with the man lying on top of her, still weighing heavily in all the right spots. But it's more than that, she senses and it scares her; the passion she's had stashed away in her heart for this man, skillfully hidden and forgotten, has just resurfaced with a vengeance. Suddenly, three years means nothing, eclipsed by under two hours of unbridled passion. Catherine closes her eyes, breathing deeply, annoyed at the power Steve's always had over her, overcome by too many emotions. And her heart aches at how unfair all of this is – having just had him and having to let him go. It's like losing a part of herself all over again, and she sighs with sadness.
While this internal struggle is going on in Catherine's mind, Steve is trying to guess what's going on with her, as he really can't tell. Obviously, he knows he's just made her come twice, but past that, he's in the dark – literally and figuratively. He becomes aware of the storm outside, lulling his thoughts, happy that he is, once again, in the arms of the only woman he has ever really wanted and truly loved. Not wanting to dwell on sad thoughts at this happy moment, Steve gets up and scoops Catherine up from the sofa, kissing her on the lips. He's being very careful, but doesn't linger and as she opens her eyes, she leans into him, lacing her left arm behind his neck, shielding her face from his view.
He strides across the living room in large, hurried steps, and heads for the corridor, looking for her room. Without turning on the lights, he gently lays her down on the bed and just stands there, contemplating her. Catherine scoots up to rest her back against the headboard, and pulls the sheets from under her, smiling sweetly. But his smile is not sweet, right now and just a look at him makes her insides melt again and her adrenaline pump.
He climbs onto the bed, standing on his knees in front of her, and pulls the sheets all the way back, moving forward again, manhood standing at attention. "Oh, you thought we were done?" and his voice is so adamant, she doesn't dare contradict him or suggest she could do with a little reprieve. She just loves a man who takes charge in the bedroom, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. 'If he doesn't already, Catherine.' She looks at him with her eyebrows cocked, mouth curling into a grin when he hooks his hands under her knees and tugs her away from the headboard so that she's flat on her back.
"Fasten your seatbelt and put your seat in the upright position, because we're entering the far West, Lieutenant." He loves her stretched out on the bed, at his mercy, and it takes him back to happier times in their bedroom, on O'ahu. When he was happy, and didn't even know it. Unexpected as it is, Catherine can't help but laugh, but in her usual incisiveness, she has just the quip to his taunt.
"You know, this whole thing is wrong."
He looks up, thinking it's a little bit too late for such considerations. But since she's smiling, he takes the bait, weary, nonetheless. "Why?"
"If we're in the far West, it should be the Cowboys subduing the Indians, NOT the other way around."
Steve just stares at her, like she's sprung a new head. "Huh?" And he's really lost.
"Men really are one-track minded, aren't they?" And she giggles. Pointing to herself, she explains. "Cowboys," and to him, "Indian."
Suddenly, he gets it. "You think I care anything about the Redskins, right now, Cath? Yeah, right."
Steve throws her a hungry look that sends tendrils of electricity up and down her body, losing himself in her. The dim light coming in from the window, filtered through rain and dark clouds, is enough for her to want to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze, but she can't bring herself to pull away. Slowly, he moves forward, towering over her, elbows again firmly planted on the mattress to keep from hurting her. He nuzzles her neck, peppering feather light kisses on her skin, his hand sliding down over her left hip, and up again. Catherine's lips are an inch away from the base of his ear and she releases a slow sigh and then slowly pulls his head back and to the side. She takes his earlobe between her lips, gently tugging, before working her way down the ridge of his neck, randomly alternating between small nibbles and gentle kisses.
Steve laughs at her, that irresistible lopsided grin that leaves her insides on fire and she reaches for him, flicking her tongue twice along the roof of his mouth. He responds, a little groan in his throat… and the sweetness of the kiss, both tender and sexy, makes her kiss him harder, less hesitantly. As Catherine's finger tips trail down his abs, hand slipping between their bodies to squeeze at his hardness, Steve's eyes darken with lust, smirk turning almost wolfish and he moans and shudders, breathing into her mouth before returning the kiss. She bites down on his lip, no longer willing to wait for him to stop taunting her, and he can feel an arousing pain spread from his lip to his groin, lust and hunger attacking him relentlessly. He smiles at her, openly, knowingly, proud that she took the initiative and clearly wants him as much as he does her.
His mouth makes its way down her chest, the cool air of her bedroom suddenly icy against her sensitive nipples. She moves to hold his head to her, as she arches her back, pushing herself more firmly into his touch, needing to feel his mouth on her, but stifles a moan, and his eyes flare with desire at the sound. He sucks harder and her moan turns into a cry, making her shudder and whimper at the exquisite feelings washing through her, fisting her hands into his hair.
Moving up, Steve kisses her forehead and whispers "relax," gently nudging her thighs wide apart. He concentrates on her eyes, soft and overflowing with emotion, stroking her cheek and brushing back a piece of her hair. Holding her left hip carefully, he lets his thumb settle into the wedge between her thigh and pelvis, and bends her right leg to settle on the side of his chest. Steve slides into her as slowly as he can stand, drawn in like the tide, an inch deeper each time, stilling once he's buried as deep as he can go. Then he withdraws, webbing out of her, a slow drag along her inner walls until only the tip remains inside her. She cries out as her body tightens around him and her legs slowly move upwards and wrap around his waist, crossing at ankle level, pulling him deeper.
The moment he stops, she feels a strange emotion invading her, the psychological barrier between them broken; it's as though he was always meant to be where he is, as though he is the only one able to fully make her feel complete, but more than that. It's a physical feeling, too, like she wants him to stay buried within her, together with the arousal that surges through her. She can feel him inside her, waiting to move, and she's hot and languid, in absolute pleasure, with the waves of exhilaration running up her body, reaching her brain and leaving her on sensory overload. If this is what the creator intended for when two creatures merge, then she gets it. He lightly grazes her nipple with his lips; she is so sensitive, the mere touch makes her buckle forward and shove her breast unwittingly into his mouth, moaning loud enough for him to hear.
Steve still hasn't moved, trying to ignore the urge to thrust harder, tension mounting deep in his belly. Being inside her, over her, is not just an act of animal lust; it's finally becoming one with the only woman who has ever had the power to make him feel as he does. No one else has ever come close to being able to leave him in the emotional state he is in, right now, and he silently thanks her for having given in to him, eventually.
Suddenly, she wiggles against him, urging him on, so he surprises her with long, slow strokes, leaning forward and bracing his weight on the headboard, muscles in his arms strained and tense from holding himself up to not crush her. She lifts her hips and moans, meeting each of his strokes, wild with need, feeling the pull of her muscles as her body stretches to accommodate his size. So, he does it again, smirking as he hears her swear, something he's definitely not used to. Gradually, he picks up his pace until he's thrusting harder and deeper into her; his pace is so relentless, so inescapable, it reaches her deep inside, and she moves her hands to his ass, pulling both her knees together to force him deeper into her. His growled warning fails to dissuade her, and he is surprised at the pleasure and wonder in his own voice.
Their breaths quicken, pupils dilated, bodies rocking together as one in almost darkness, creating their own tempo of heat and longing. He pins her arms above her head, on the pillow, fingers intertwined, and lowers his head to her throat, kissing it and sending a hot jolt of passion down her spine. Any lingering doubts over what they're doing, or thoughts over why they shouldn't be doing it are quickly erased from her mind and nothing exists beyond this moment in time – no Lynn, no 5-0, no CIA – just Steve burning inside her, fighting against her like they were made for each other, the very fabric of their existence intermingled.
"Hey, look at me." He stops what he's doing, demanding her full attention.
"Huh?" She's ripped from her physical pleasure.
"I want to look you in the eye as we make love. I need to see that this is real, that this is really happening." Even looking her deep in the eye is an exercise in intimacy that brings his vulnerability to the fore.
"Oh, Steve..."
"I mean it. I'm in kind of a suspension of disbelief scenario, here. I need to touch you, smell you, so that my brain doesn't trick me into thinking that I'm here, making love to you, after so long, when in reality, I'm just dreaming…"
She's so overwhelmed by his words, her heart and soul are about to be ripped wide open. She finally realises that this that they're doing, right now, the passion they've let loose, tonight, is so much more than carnal lust and desire, on both their parts. It's about emotional release from something they've been holding out on for three years, always so prim and proper every time they interacted. They're giving body and soul to the other, stripped bare, consequences be damned.
Catherine's skin tingles with desire, as she kisses his mouth, slowly, reverently. Waves of heat flood her and butterflies dance through her body. Steve leans forward, grabbing her face possessively with one hand and pushes his tongue into her mouth, tasting her and letting her taste make him dizzy. He needs to slow his pace right down – it's too soon to end it – but the tension mounts, and grows, and builds, fingers trembling against her face.
Suddenly, Catherine can feel the tentative promise of a wave of pleasure between her legs, the orgasm starting to stir low in her gut and itch just under her skin. She knows that it will grow more intense with time, but she doesn't want it to develop too quickly and shatter the bond that is building between them. She looks Steve deep in the eyes, as though silently thanking him for having brought them to this moment, and slows down her movements, wanting to savour the pleasure of having him over her, inside her, making love to her. But he's not having it.
"Come for me, come on, Cath."
"Together."
"No, not yet. I want to look at you and remember. Memorize. Etch you in my brain," and he picks up his pace again. He wants her to scream his name and beg him to end this all-consuming hunger burning inside.
Her low moans, keening wails and urgent gasps grow louder, more desperate, as the pleasure builds within her, invading her without mercy and incinerating her last shreds of control. She's on fire, aching for release, about to shatter into a million pieces. Steve lifts his face to stare at her, concentrating on her eyes, soft and overflowing with emotion, feeling his body painfully hard and aroused, stumbling on the edge, unable to slow down.
Her world explodes in white light and she tenses, clenching hard around him, waves of pleasure rolling over her, unsure of where she starts and he ends. As she finally loses control, Catherine digs her fingernails into his shoulders, shaking in his arms, and arches and writhes, triggering a hot rush of contractions around him, taunting him further. Pleasure rocks through her body until she gasps for air, and the orgasm rages on, the urgency in her voice making his name come out in a drawn out soft, muffled whimper that ends with a sigh.
Steve momentarily forgets about his own pleasure and can't help but look at the woman in front of him in awe, mixed with some other emotion he can't quite place, at this precise moment. In the throes of her own orgasm, her eyes are shut and her face contorted in pleasure, and his heart swells with joy at the knowledge that he brought her to this moment, sagging into his body. He brings her down from her high slowly, carefully, grinding almost to a halt, as she gets really sensitive after she comes. He's still hard inside her, and suddenly, she opens her eyes and kisses him, encouraging him. She knows he hasn't come yet and wants him to, so she starts to grind her pelvis against him, making him shudder hard. The way his name tumbles from her lips is enough to make him finally come, face buried in her neck. They hug, and pant, and laugh, and kiss like teenagers who have just discovered the wonders of sex.