Title: My Lady
Author: Lassar
Spoilers: Hopefully I am only spoiling my fellow fans
Rating: R
Pairing: Oh yeah.
Author's notes: I wrote this in first person so it would
flow better. I also think that anything this intimate should be told from a
personal perspective. Third person always feels voyeuristic to me. Could be
just me; let me know what you think. One more thing, it is a pwp. That means no
plot, so don't bitch. I may someday write this into a whole storyline, in fact
it keeps trying to create one for itself, but for now it stands alone.
Disclaimers: Don't own it, but if Marc could see his way
clear to loaning me Ian I would count myself wealthy indeed…
It is very late;
we've been asleep for hours. I drift slowly into consciousness. I lay there enjoying
the way the filtered moonlight leaves silvered stripes across the bedroom. I am warm from the heat of your body around
me, even though the sheets are still in a tangle at our feet. I cannot see the
clock without moving from the shelter of your arms, and I am not curious enough
about the time to do that. You are curled around me, legs tucked under mine.
Your face is cradled against the curve of my neck, and the feel of your breath
across it is giving me little chills that chase up and down my spine. I twist
slightly against you just for the sensation of skin on skin. It feels
incredible, and I do it again. You shift and murmur something in my hair. I
freeze, not wanting to wake you, for I know that you were very tired by the
time I finally let you sleep. I smile into the darkness, a very feminine smile.
There is something incredibly primal and satisfying about exhausting your lover
sexually, especially if that man is a man like you, Ian.
I lay silently,
waiting for you to settle back into a deep sleep when you move again. Your hand
slides up from my waist to my breast. I can feel your thumb just brush my
areola. Blood rushes to the peak, and I can feel my heart pounding against my
ribs. Even though you haven't moved an inch, my nipple is hard. I can tell by
the heat that a flush has spread across my cheekbones. The tension tightens its
coils around me and I strain not to move. Will you move your hand that
fraction? The agony of anticipation is delicious. My body tightens as the
sensation continues to build, the tension drawing muscles together. I continue
to will you to move your hand, but you are not cooperating.
Finally I am unable
to stand it a moment longer, and I twist slightly. Your thumb rasps across my
nipple. It is like a small explosion, with the shockwaves traveling through my
body and settling between my thighs. I arch against your hand, your name
falling from my lips, "Ian…"
I feel you smile
against my neck as you whisper, "You held out longer than I thought you would."
"You bastard!" I hiss and try to twist around to face you.
You tighten your
arm and throw one leg over mine, pinning me where I am. You burrow your face
through my hair until your lips are next to my ear. "Don't be angry, it was
exciting to feel the hunger move through your body and know it was a hunger
only I could sate." As if you could sense the way your admission weakened my
anger, you tilt your head downward and bite my neck.
"No fair," I gasp
as fire shoots through my body. The back of my neck is incredibly sensitive,
perhaps one of the strongest erogenous zones on my body. I arch back against
you and shudder.
You smile against
my neck again and bite harder. "Am I forgiven?" You whisper, licking the bite
and dropping small kisses against my nape.
"N-Oh! YES!" I cry
out as you knead my breast and bite the spot where neck and shoulder meet.
Your grip relaxes
enough for me to twist around in your arms so that I can face you. Your hair
spills across the pillow like a river and your eyes are the color of molten
glass. You smile up at me. Do you know how beautiful you are to me? I lean down
and kiss you, drinking in the taste and exploring the textures that are unique
to you. No one else has ever tasted this good. I let my palms slide down your
chest, adoring the feel of your muscles flexing under my hands. I kiss you
again, this time putting all the hunger I feel into it. You make a sound deep
in your throat, something like a growl, and your arms tighten across my back to
pull me flush against your body. I can feel you, hard against my thigh. I break
off the kiss and trail my lips along your jaw line, the beard soft and slightly
ticklish. I follow the line to your ear. I run the tip of my tongue around the
shell of your ear before catching the earlobe between my teeth. I whisper in
your ear, "I love the way you taste. Would you like me to…" I cannot finish my
sentence, can't even remember what it was, as you push my legs apart with one
of yours and settle your erection between my thighs.
I bury my face
against the nape of your neck and squirm against you. One hand comes down and
clamps on the small of my back, the strength of it keeping me from moving my
hips again. The other hand slides up my back and clenches in my hair. I feel
the fine tremor that runs through your body and I can tell you are calling on
the inner reserves of discipline that have served you so well as an assassin.
Now I know I am in trouble. The hand in my hair releases its grip and you run
your nails down my spine. Your hands move to my hips and you use them to move
me, sliding me against your penis. The friction is incredibly exciting, but I
want more. I want you inside me. When I try to angle my hips to make that
happen, your grip tightens and in a voice rough with barely contained passion
you say, "Oh no you don't, my lady. It's my turn to drive you crazy."
I clench my hands,
nails sinking into your arms in a vain hope of hanging on to my own discipline.
You continue that slow torturous glide. The hunger is eroding my control. I
can't focus, can't seem to draw a complete breath. I move my head down your
chest, letting my tongue flick your left nipple. I hear your breath catch, and
that is all the encouragement I need. I blow a breath across the hard nipple,
ruffling the spiral of dark chest hair around it, before taking it into my
mouth to suck. One of your hands moves from my hip and clenches tightly in my
hair. For a second I think I have sucked to hard, but you only push me tighter
to your chest. I bite down, just hard enough for you to feel teeth. The fist in
my hair tugs, and I let go of the nipple to follow the pressure. You raise my
face to yours and kiss me deeply, tongue thrusting inside my mouth in the same
rhythm as the slide had been. I let my nails drag down your chest, deliberately
scoring the erect nipples. I watch your
eyes grow even darker as I draw my nails down even further. I let my
fingernails trail along your hipbones and then along your outer thighs. On the
return circuit I trace instead the inner thighs. The muscles are standing out
in bold relief, and I play along the delineations. Your hips twitch
involuntarily and I grin like an imp. I lean forward and lick the inside of
your thigh. You taste of salt and skin, and your scent is pure aroused male. I
turn my head slightly and my hair falls like silk across your lower body. I
move down toward your knees, letting my hair flow after me. I have never done
this, and I don't know how it feels to you so I glance up through the curtain
of my hair at your face. Your head is thrown back, and I can see the tendons
standing out in your neck. I think it must feel very good to you, so I rise up
and do it again.
As I rise from the
second circuit I look down at you. Your hips are arched and your breathing is
ragged. Your shaft is standing just under my mouth and suddenly it is too much.
I give in to the temptation and take you into my mouth. Here too is the taste
of salt and skin, but I also taste desire. I slide my mouth down your shaft as
far as I can go, flicking the head with my tongue on the upstroke. "You have
the most incredible mouth," I hear you whisper hoarsely.
I brace with one
hand to free the other, so I can stroke the rest of your shaft. I work against
you faster, wanting you as hot as I am. You have both hands on my head, wrapped
in my hair. I feel your hips rocking under me, the rhythm becoming more urgent.
You tug gently on my hair and gasp, "I am near the edge of my restraint, my
lady."
It is a warning
that I choose to heed, this time. I slide my body up yours, reveling in the
heat pouring off you like a furnace, until I am looking into your eyes. All
time seems to stop. Then you grab my hands and I see a devilish glint in your
eyes. With my hands firmly captured, you lift me further up your body. When my
breasts are even with your face, you take first one nipple into your mouth and
then the other to lick and suckle. With a soft cry I arch my back, pressing
even closer to your tormenting mouth. You suck harder and flick the nipple with
your tongue before letting me feel just a brush of teeth. If I could catch my
breath, I'd beg for mercy. I strain against your grip, not certain I can take
much more. You rub your beard across my swollen nipples and the texture is
somehow soft and bristly at the same time. I am shuddering continuously now,
and I cannot control the soft cries that fall from my mouth.
A small scream of
frustration escapes my throat as you pull me away from your mouth. I can see
you smile at me with those sensuous lips, and I shiver at the dark knowledge in
your eyes. You still haven't let my hands free, and you continue to slide me
down your body. I move where I am pulled, still mesmerized by that wicked smile
you have. I feel the hard heat of you pressing insistently against me, promising
fulfillment. I try to free my hands again, but you still have them firmly
caged. You shift me slightly over you, and I can feel the head of your penis
just touching the entrance. You flex your hips, the head barely entering me and
stop. I am stretched tight in your grasp and can barely move. It doesn't stop
me from trying, and I strain to no avail to bring you further into my body. You
wait until I still, until I acknowledge that you are in control. In that moment
of surrender, you let me slide down your body to meet the hard thrust of your
hips. I cry out from the sudden fullness. I clench your hands, now using them
as a support as my hips rise and fall over you. In this position the speed and
depth are really mine to control. I make
each motion torturously slow and long, pulling back until only the tip is still
inside me before sliding back down your shaft. I know it won't be long before
you take control back, so I am stretching out the pleasure of having you
straining beneath me. You push me until I am sitting upright. All the breath
leaves my body as I take you so deep I feel like I should be able to taste you.
You release my hands. I feel the bite of your fingers over my hipbones and then
you move me. I shudder as you take control of the rhythm, forcing me to move
over you faster and faster. Each thrust is hard and deep, pushing me closer and
closer to orgasm. My head is thrown back, and I can feel my hair cascading over
our legs.
"Oh god yes, Ian!"
I cry as my body clenches tightly around yours. I throw my head back and let go
of my control. The orgasm takes me, and I cannot breathe, cannot see, and
cannot think. I don't know how long I am lost in the pleasure, but when I lower
my head, eyes so heavy I can hardly keep them open, you are watching me. Your
breathing is not as ragged as mine, and I can feel you still hard inside me.
I lean forward
slightly, looking down at you. "Ian, I love you." Your midnight hair is tumbling around your face, and I smooth
it back gently
You take my hand
and press a kiss over the knuckles like a knight greeting a lady. "I love you,
my lady." Your words are courtly, but the heat in your eyes is not. "I love to
hear you cry my name in pleasure. I think I will hear you call out for me
again, soon."
I swallow hard,
knowing it is not an idle statement. You pull out of me, hard and glistening
with the proof of my pleasure in the moonlight. I let you position me on the
bed, still to lethargic from the afterglow to object. I am now where you were,
flat on my back, with you over me. You slide down my body and part my legs. At
the first stroke of your tongue I feel the fire so recently doused stir back to
life. Soon I am squirming and arching against your hands and mouth. I nearly
lose it when I feel you ease a finger into me. Out of a sense of fair play, I
give you the same warning you gave me, "Ian, I am going to come if you don't
stop."
You slide the
finger out of me and move back just enough to look up my body. "Is my lady sure
she would have me stop?'
"Your lady would
fain you didn't, but your lady would also like you to forget to be a chivalrous
knight for once." I look down at you, willing you to understand what I am
asking.
I see the light
dawn in your eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Very sure." I say,
knowing what I am asking for.
"Turn over; I want
you on your hands and knees." Your voice is different now, harder.
I do as you
command, and feel your hands shift me until I am where you want me. I feel you
slide the head of your cock along my clitoris until you find the entrance. This
time there is no teasing, no testing, no gradual entrance, and no time to allow
my body to adjust to your size. You simply thrust in to your full length all at
once, bringing a cry that is half protest and half pleasure from my throat.
Using your hands to keep me still, there is no way I can control how deep or
hard I take you. It is all I can do is draw breath enough to cry out with
pleasure. It is odd to feel so out of control and yet so safe, it must be a
measure if how much I trust you. You begin to move against me faster, your
breathing as labored as mine. I can feel the orgasm coming again, and I tighten
all my body straining to hold it back. You lean down and bite my neck, and the
sensation sends me over the edge. "Ian!" I call out your name and feel you
thrust one last time before coming inside me. For an eternal moment we are
frozen in place, caught up in rapture. Then you lean into me, the pleasure
having taken your strength as surely as it has taken mine. I feel you slide out
of me and kiss my back.
"I told you I
would hear you call my name again." The tone is so smugly masculine that I am
not sure I want to turn over and see it mirrored in your eyes, but I do it
anyway. I was right; you look just as arrogant as you sounded. It is so
different from the insecurities we had dealt with early in our relationship
that I let it go unchallenged, except for a punch in the chest before snuggling
into your arms. Truth to tell, I am too exhausted to take that on tonight. Or
should I say, this morning? I feel you press a kiss on the top of my head and
pull me tighter to you, and discretion is suddenly it's
own reward.
Fin? We'll see.
