TEN
Her trembling fingers combed delicately the strands of his hair towards the heat of his neck and shoulders. "Yes," she murmured, gasping, though he hadn't asked. "Yes. I shall have you again. You're my favourite possession."
"Glad to hear it," he whispered, breathless, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.
"Of course you are," she agreed, smugly. "Your only purpose is to be mine."
He rolled his forehead along her collarbone, his hot breath tracing a loving, delirious path. "Definitely."
"You serve me well."
"I bet you say that to all your possessions."
"But I only mean it with you."
He looked up then. His smirk grew and her smile blossomed. With a chuckle, she curled forward on his lap, into his chest, reaching between his arms and torso and the slats of the chair towards the knot she'd tied there earlier. Feeling around, she became confused. The rope hung loosely.
"Looking for these?" he murmured above her, a rumble she felt on her cheek. His hands drew lazy circles on her bare shoulder blades.
"Huh?" she puzzled. "How did you? How long have you been—?"
Jess just smirked.
"Damn," she murmured, impressed.
With a shaky breath he purred, "Damn is right." His hands lifted her torso towards him and then they tilted her head to his lips so he could drop a kiss onto her jawline. "That was good," he teased, to the tingling delight of Rory. His arms ran snugly around her shoulders when she shivered. "Almost perfect. You only left out one thing."
She laughed, leaning back. His arms slid from her shoulder blades down to her waist, holding her close enough. "You know I'd never ask you to quote Hemingway."
He replied with a chuckle, "Although I did notice a distinct lack of Hemingway, that wasn't actually what I was referring to."
"Oh? To what were you referring?"
"Does this mean I'm not getting my massage?" he deadpanned.
With a smile sliding across her face, Rory grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck and guided his lips up to hers. "Impertinent boy," she said warmly against his mouth before pressing her lips to his. He'd get his massage, but in her own good time.
AN: Well there you have it. I hope you liked it.
This story is complete—unless I come up with a new vignette. We'll see.