Why hello there, Readers! I just want to apologize for not updating for a while. I also want to tell you how much I love and appreciate reading your reviews. They're like water to me. So thanks!
I'm actually kind of surprised that this would be my longest chapter so far. I didn't intend for it to be so detailed but it just poured out all over my keyboard.
There are BIG, HUMONGAZIOD things happening in the world of LPL. Chapter updates coming up soon, fragments of stories written on cell phones. Inspiration coming out the wazoo! Things are getting very real, very fast so be on the lookout!
Welp, enough of my ramblings: on with the show!
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the characters. I'll give them right back, I swear!
Chapter VIII
They sat on the bed for what seemed like hours; so much said, and so much yet to say. His kisses were a far cry from what they'd been the night before. What had been hungry and ravenous was now desperate and urgent at the possibility of losing her.
Martha accepted his kisses eagerly. She was going nowhere, at least not anytime soon. She knew she couldn't hold the past over his head forever, and she felt better after getting years of unspoken anger and grief off of her chest. With all of the pent-up emotion gone, the only thing left was what she'd denied herself for far too long: raw, unbridled love. The tears that fell between them shed the weight of the morning's argument.
No more words were needed. All of the most important ones had already been said. Yet he spoke anyway. "I promise you. If you let me, I'll always take care of you. I know you don't need protecting, but you are so important... so precious to me. I could never lose you. It would kill me."
His voice was a hoarse whisper, his face so close to hers that she was breathing in his air. She didn't speak, rendered mute by stress and emotion. She'd yelled, cried, and kissed until her mouth was dry and then some. She simply nodded in silent agreement and their deal was sealed with another chaste kiss to his lips.
"Come with me." With those words, he led her to a door that she hadn't seen before. She assumed it was another one of the TARDIS's adventures in redecorating. Through the door was an elaborate bathroom reminiscent to the decadence of the bedroom it was attached to. Everything seemed to be made of cream marble and gold hardware. The floors were heated and the air smelled of vanilla. There were candles lit everywhere. She vaguely wondered if it was all real or some kind of perception trick. She could have been in a storage closet for all she knew, and the TARDIS would make it look like the Rockefeller mansion.
He led her to the spacious shower and unbuttoned her only item of clothing- his white dress shirt which, he decided, looked better on her than it ever did on him. She stood there before him, naked and unashamed as his eyes roamed over her body.
"Martha Jones, you are absolutely beautiful."
She offered a blush and a quiet "Thank You" in return before leaning in on tip-toes to kiss him. It seemed as if that was all they did these past few hours. Without breaking the kiss, she began to free him from his trousers, letting them drop to the floor. He slid open the door to the giant walk-in shower and turned the knob to the perfect temperature before ushering her in before him.
The warm water felt glorious against her tight skin. But it was nothing compared to the feeling of his hands on her body. The water washed over them and the steam rose around them. He picked up an unmarked mason jar from the ledge filled with an iridescent silvery gel. Once he unscrewed the lid, she recognized the scent: his scent. The unnamable scent of things primordial and neoteric and ancient and sparklingly new. She recognized it from every single time she was in his presence- the scent of time. He poured a bit of soap into his palm and turned her around. He slowly massaged her wet hair, her neck and shoulders- every bit of her he lathered in the silvery gel. She couldn't help but moan as his hands worked their magic. They moved slowly and carefully over her skin as if she was made of glass- as if trying to prove exactly how precious she was to him. He even bent down to wash her feet.
She returned to favor- small, soapy, fully capable hands roved over his tall frame. He awkwardly stooped down so that she could reach his neck and hair. They shared short laughs interrupted by spurts of kisses erupting from the sheer intensity of the moment. But they didn't speak, simply enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. His fingers roamed over her smooth skin- more praising than ravaging. This wasn't about sex. Oh no, this was a cleansing of bodies and spirits. A connecting of souls and fingers on flesh. A gesture of caring and protection and love from both.
When they were clean, he stepped from the shower, wrapping one plush cream colored towel around his waist. He helped her out and wrapped her similarly, the towel draped around her entire body. Though she'd never admit it aloud, she rather enjoyed the way he was treating her; for once, she wasn't strong Martha, or brave Martha, or soldier Martha, or Doctor Martha. She was just his Martha- fragile and vulnerable and all his.
He led her, still silently, to the bed and laid her down. She turned over to her stomach, getting comfortable on her pillow. He left her for a few moments and came back with a small bottle filled with a thick, clear liquid. She stayed silent as he unfastened her towel and straddled her. She could feel him growing hard under his own towel, but he made no suggestive move.
Then she felt it- the warm, clear oil dripping onto her back. It smelled faintly of some unearthly citrus. He massaged her neck, back and arms from his position- his expert fingers kneading her soft flesh, working the oil into her skin. She let out another series of moans; this was way better (and hotter) than the spa back on Earth. His hands moved sensually slow across her body. Then he began to speak.
"This," he said, tracing a small scar on her left side. "This is from when we were running from those pig slaves. And this," He traced another one, "is where that crazy Professor Lazarus nicked you. I was so scared that you would fall. I was so helpless." His voice was soft, wistful as he revisited the memory.
He shifted, and moved down her body. She moaned again as he pushed and pulled and kneaded her bum, still dripping in warm oil. She could feel him growing even harder. Still he made no move to enter her. He just continued down her legs. He stopped at her ankles before gently turning her over to face him.
He marveled at her naked body- at all of the things he failed notice in the heated passion of the previous night. All of a sudden, the rise of her breasts, the apex of her thighs, and the cupid's bow of her lips held a new significance. He set forth on the task of committing every freckle and mole to memory- every detail of her intricate design as he continued his massage. She noticed how his towel tented with need, and wanted nothing more than to sooth the aching desire that seemed almost palpable between them. But she held off, deciding that if she let him take the lead her patience would soon be rewarded.
"This one," his hand grazed a long scar across her abdomen before staring deeply into her eyes. "I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you. It was right before 1913. We were running from the family. I never told you this, but I used my regeneration energy to heal you while you were unconscious. It was purely stupid and selfish of me, but I couldn't just let you die." He told the story of her every bump, bruise and scar.
The ones he didn't know, she filled in the blanks. "This is when I let Tish try and give me a tattoo in middle school. She used a safety pin and ink from a pen. I screamed bloody murder and we were both grounded for a month." She said when he asked about the strange mark on her collar bone.
"Fell off my bike when I was ten. Tried to ride with no hands." She explained the scar on her knee. Again he stopped at her ankles before moving from her completely.
Skilled, well-oiled hands massaged her feet. Suddenly, a sensation shot from her right foot, straight to her core. She involuntarily arched her back and moaned loudly. She realized what he was doing as he pressed his thumb against her foot again.
"What? Didn't they teach you about reflexology in med school?" he said with a smirk. She readied herself for a witty comeback when she was hit with another wave of pleasure. "Oh my God!" She writhed in his hands, completely at his mercy. He continued on to the other foot, mercilessly, describing every pressure point as he hit it until she reached the threshold of her pleasure and came hard, breathlessly screaming his name.
He watched as she came back down from her high- his eyes trailing from her full lips, down her neck to the rise of her breasts. He licked his lips as his eyes rested one perky nipple, then the other. He rose to kiss her lips tenderly and she kissed him back with equal fervor on, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. He pulled his lip from her mouth reluctantly and moved down her body- enjoying the sensation of sliding down her body, still slick with oil and the dewy sweat from her first of many orgasms.
The Doctor took one nipple in his mouth, teasing the other with his hand. His tongue flicked and curled around the aching flesh while his hand pinched and pulled causing her a pain so delicious that she couldn't decide whether she wanted him to stop or not. He switched after only a few seconds, and she almost protested, but the mischievous gleam in his eye as he looked up at her made her think better of the idea.
He only spent a few seconds on each nipple before kissing and licking her way down her body. He smiled against the smooth skin below her navel before kissing the hot wet lips of her nether regions. Martha's breath hitched and her hips bucked involuntarily. He swirled the swollen bud of her clit with his tongue before placing one long lick after another from the bottom of the wet opening to the top of the sensitive bit of flesh.
She moaned loudly, uttering incoherent encouragements. Finally, he began his sweet assault of her, his tongue flicking and his lips working againgst her. She was quickly reaching delirium as he drank her like a man dying of thirst. Her body seemed to disconnect itself as she began to unravel: her hips seemed to work themselves against his waiting mouth non-stop. Her legs couldn't decide whether to open as wide as humanly possible- allowing him to climb inside if he so wished- or to close tightly around him like a human guillotine. Her hands tried desperately to find something to hold onto, and her mouth worked completely independent from her brain- which seemed to be offline. She lost and caught her breath in turns, with filthy words and encouragements littered in-between. These dirty exaltations only spurred him forward. He could feel her body heat rising as she raked both hands through his scalp.
A white-hot streak of electricity shot through her and clouded her vision as she screamed his name, but he never stopped. He continued his ministrations, bringing her to a third and fourth orgasm- at the end of which she had to summon all of the strength she had left to physically remove his face from the meal he had made of her.
She was in a haze of pure, uncut pleasure. Her brain was still offline and her body was pure sensation; electricity shooting through her every nerve at the slightest touch. So when his lips came to rest at the crook of her neck, it was all she could do not to melt out of her skin completely.
He whispered sweet somethings to her as she recovered from his onslaught of pleasure. "I'm insatiable, Martha. You do this to me. Only you. I've never wanted someone as much as I want you. And believe me, I want you all the time, my love. " She'd known of the power of words from her experience in 1599, but Martha Jones never thought that words could make this happen! In a matter of mere minutes, she was ready and willing to go another round even though she'd been completely spent with nothing more to give. Somehow, his words rejuvenated her and touched her in a way that made her insatiable too.
She felt another wave of tension build inside of her, wanting desperately to be released. Her hands traveled down his body slowly, coming to rest on his swollen, rock hard organ. When she looked him in the eye, she could see the love and lust and need for release. Their lips met in a fit of passion as she began to grip and slide her expert hands. His moans were more like growls- rough, raspy, beastly sounds of pleasure as she circled the pad of her thumb over the wet, sensitive tip.
Feeling him shudder in her grasp made her feel a new sense of power. She let go of him and broke the kiss, bringing her wet thumb to her lips and enjoying his taste. She harnessed her strength and turned him onto his back, straddling him. In one fluid movement, she guided him inside of her, earning them both a sweet, guttural moan. She paused for only a moment, adjusting herself to the angle and to the thickness inside of her. He'd slipped into her easily, but now her insides held him in a vice grip. The wave of pleasure threatened to sweep him away as she began to move her hips.
"Slower…" he moaned with eyes half open. "Keep up that pace and it'll be over before you know it." His hands fell on her hips, his thumbs pressing into her hip bones as he guided her to the perfect rhythm. She arched herself back, her hands resting on his thighs behind her as she undulated her body to his beat. From his position, he had the perfect view (he suspected she knew that). His eyes trailed down his own skin to where his melted into hers, then up her hot sex to her smooth, tight stomach, to her perfect breasts and up her neck. Her head was thrown back and all he could make out were her lips, parted and moaning in supreme pleasure.
His eyes followed the trail back down, coming to rest between her spread legs. Blindly, instinctually, he reached his thumbs downward. One thumb pulled back gently on her skin, exposing her, while the other massaged the sensitive bud. It was as if he'd found her remote control: she instantly moaned loudly and lurched forward. She leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands on his chest. "Keep doing that and it'll be over before you know it." She said, mocking him breathlessly. Ever defiant, he continued and, only seconds later, she was tightening and releasing around him in an explosion of white hot pleasure as her fingernails dug into the flesh on his chest.
He sat up as her fifth orgasm subsided, and her hands scrambled to find stability around his neck. He grabbed her hips again and thrust upward. Their lips pressed together concealing their moans as he ravaged the beautiful woman sitting on his lap. He slammed into her as he quickly ascended to the peak of his own delirium.
"Do you love me?" He asked suddenly, suddenly fearful of her answer. They were face-to-face, lips still touching, and still climbing.
"Yes! Oh God, Doctor! Yes, I love you more than anything. I always have!" She replied breathlessly.
"Do you trust me?" His head sank down to her shoulder and he bit down hard as his own long-awaited orgasm threatened to drown both of them. Their sex had become violent.
She let out a high pitched squeal, pleasure and pain battling on her shoulder and between her legs as he continued to pummel her with upward thrusts.
She raked her nails across his back and gripped the hair on his head tightly.
"With my life, Doctor. With my heart!" As if that was the key to unlocking his powerful orgasm, he came hard and, miraculously, so did she. He released and emptied himself inside of her with those guttural, beastly growls and his teeth sinking into her shoulder, tasting her blood. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like lifetimes. It felt like stars colliding and exploding and swirling into new universes and imploding into themselves at the same time. It felt like worlds forming and disintegrating. It felt like the turn of the universe.
He laid back, still holding her against his chest, both of them drenched in sweat. No more words were needed and no more words were spoken. Not bothering to slip himself out of her, he covered them both with a silky sheet. He heard her breathing evenly and knew she was sleeping soundly. With a kiss to the top of her head, he drifted off peacefully as well: Three heartbeats in perfect sync.
Whew! Believe it or not, that was kind of exhausting! Hope you liked! Believe me, I'm nowhere near done with this one! Review!
xoxo, LPL