"Mmmmmmmyou smell good." She whispered, hours later. Night made the room dark, and the only light came from the fire they'd forgotten to shut off in the fireplace. Arthur enjoyed the sensation of Ariadne spooned behind him, her small arm around his waist.
"Thanks. You do too," he assured her, rolling to face the woman in his bed, and feeling absurdly glad to see her there. She was on her side now, head propped up on one hand, smiling in the dim light.
"I thought this would be more awkward," Ariadne mused, and she reached to touch his shoulder.
"Because we're professionals who work together?" Arthur mirrored her gesture, aware of how warm her skin was, how addictive it was to stroke. Ariadne laughed, and snuggled closer, her breath warm against his throat.
"Because I think you look better without clothes than in them, frankly. Hell, Arthur, you've got a very nice body. I wasn't kidding when I compared you to the classics, you know," came her chuckled reply.
He could feel his blush, the heat racing down his skin. "I draw the line at nude extractions, Ari."
"Yeah, I guess that could get . . ." her fingers slid down his stomach, along the trail of fur under his belly button, ". . . distracting."
"Unnnnghh—" Arthur pulled the covers back and glanced down. "Speaking of distractions . . ."
"Part of being an architect has to do with multiple modalities," Ariadne informed him, her clever fingers encircling his thickening shaft. "As a result, I'm good with touch; I like to touch you."
"So I feel, and see," Arthur groaned softly. "But I'm a firm believer is mutuality myself; sensual democracy as it were."
"You're still an American, even in Paris," came her tease. "And I think I'm starting to understand why you're called the Point Man."
"Hey, hey—none of that," Arthur growled around a crooked grin. "I can't have the nickname associated with . . ." he flexed in her fingers, making her chuckle.
"Mmmmm, well that's up to you," she smiled, rolling onto her back, "But I'll probably be thinking it each time I use it."
"You know, I suspected you'd be trouble from the first time I saw you," Arthur mused, rubbing his nose down between her breasts and heading towards her small dimple of a belly button. "You walked in with Cobb and I told myself you were going to be real handful."
"Really?" Ariadne sounded delighted; although he was too busy nuzzling her flat stomach to respond verbally. She squirmed when he reached her navel, but Arthur managed a wet kiss there that made Ariadne giggle and try to push him away.
"Well when I first saw you I thought—"
He lifted his head. Arthur knew his hair had decided to hang loosely down the sides of his face instead of staying gelled back, and that when it happened he looked more like a young artist than an Extractor, but he was curious as to Ariadne's first impression of him. "—Yes? Go on—"
"—that you were an exceedingly sharp dresser," she chuckled. "I actually believed you were the boss of the operations."
"Fooled you," he snorted, and went back to kissing her abdomen. Under his lips, Ariadne wriggled, the lean muscles tensing under his lips. Her hands gripped his bare shoulders, and Arthur felt her fingers flex uncertainly.
He gave a low, pleased moan and rubbed his nose from one sharp little hipbone to the other before brushing his chin against the soft, almost lacy fur lower down. "Nice."
"You're not . . ." Ariadne began to protest faintly, trying to sit up. Arthur blew a warm breath experimentally across her curls and she shuddered.
"Yeah, I thought you'd like that," he murmured. "I won't if you don't want me to, but I'd really like to. I mean, seriously—"
"Yes?" came her surprised question, and Arthur felt a pang of sorrow at how uncertain Ariadne sounded. Clearly she hadn't been treated—well, like the treat she was. He decided then and there that whatever else, she deserved to come first, always.
"Hell yes," he replied, and realized 'always' implied a lot more. But Arthur didn't want to think about that, not when the beautiful tangle of warm ringlets and sleek pink folds were demanding his full attention. He dipped his head lower and pressed a kiss along the seam of her sex, careful to keep it light, and felt Ariadne shudder, her thighs parting unconsciously to him.
"Unnnnnhhhhh," came her pleasured moan. "Arthur . . ."
"Shhhh," he murmured, dimples deep, and bent his head again, letting the ball of one thumb slide along the slick and beautiful cleft deep within the dark curls. The sweet sight of her rosy lips, already glazed and slick sent a lustful thrill through him, and Arthur dragged his tongue along the sensitive flesh, tasting her heat and flavor.
Lightly he slid his hands under her peachy ass, cupping it tenderly as he devoured her lovingly. It was fun, Arthur realized, to explore and tease and learn about Ariadne's delicious little quim. Some moves, like licks along the inside creases of her thighs made her squirm. Suckling the sweet petals of her lips made her shiver, and long, slow strokes against the hardening pearl of her clitoris had Ariadne gripping his hair tightly and pushing herself up against his teasing mouth, begging for more.
It was an anatomy lesson seared into his brain and along his tongue, and Arthur fought the quivering rise of his own demanding desire as he ground his unruly prick against the sheets, denying himself pleasure as he brought Ariadne to peak after peak of sweet climactic surrender.
Finally though, she tugged on his hair and gasped, "God, just take me already!" and he knew it was time. With one ticklish wipe of his slick lips against her thigh, Arthur pushed himself up and slid along the damp, warm curves of Ariadne's frame, working himself between her welcoming thighs, and thrust.
Bliss. The hot squeeze of her cleft around his aching shaft made him grunt. He rocked into her slowly, but Ariadne lifted her knees and wrapped her legs around his hips. Arthur felt her ankles cross above his ass as she raked her nails along his back.
"NOW!" came her panting demand. "Please, Arthur!"
He gave in and thrust hard, the damp flesh of their bodies smacking as they rocked against each other in a joyous, dizzy union filled with gasping, growling and groans. Arthur let himself drive into Ariadne, driven by her insistent cries, and when his climax came, he lost himself in the glorious sizzle of each pulsing throb.
00oo00oo00oo00
It was only a few hours later that he woke to find Ariadne firmly latched to his side, her nose nearly buried in his silky armpit. The grey light of morning made the window shades brighter, and he relaxed again, smiling to himself. Sure his arm was asleep under the weight of the woman clinging to him, but somehow this was a minor situation; just having Ariadne there felt amazingly good.
Arthur drew in a breath, searching his thoughts, looking for any regrets or reconsiderations. It was pragmatic to assume there might be a few; he was after all, paid well to consider all the pros and cons of situations, and the practice bled over into his personal life more than he wanted to admit.
A few of the old arguments tried to rear up, but they were shadowy for the moment. She's young was the most persistent one, followed by, Are you really ready for a relationship? Arthur pushed them aside, aware of how utterly relaxed he was, how warm and comfortable the bed felt with Ariadne in it. He sighed and regretfully began to pull away from her to answer the demands of his bladder.
Ariadne protested sleepily, and finally opened her eyes, flashing Arthur a quick smile before drawing her brows together. "Oh God—what time is it?"
"Nearly seven," he told her, and she began to sit up, a flare of panic crossing her face.
"Classes!" came her slightly panicked tone. "Eight o'clock, oh God, my students, Introduction to Design . . . Arthur, I have to go!"
"I'll take you," he tried to reassure her, running a hand through his hair. "Shower and we'll get you on campus in forty minutes, guaranteed."
She shot him a skeptical look, but scrambled for the bathroom, while Arthur called down for coffee and croissants, then ambled in, catching Ariadne just as she was stepping into the shower.
"Economy of the morning," he announced and followed her into the glass booth.
"No sex." She announced to him in a distracted tone. Arthur nodded, turning the nozzle to the tiled wall as the water took its time in heating up.
He smirked at Ariadne as she ducked under the water and began scrubbing up in earnest. They showered, moving around each other easily in the small space, and Arthur was impressed with how Ariadne managed to get herself clean, dry and dressed before he was done knotting his tie. When he poked his head out of the bathroom, Ariadne was dipping a torn section of croissant into her cup of coffee, looking impatient.
"Ready to go?" he asked, rhetorically, since she was on her feet, gulping the damp bite of food down.
"Yes. Damn it, I'm so sorry; I totally forgot about the class," came her apologetic murmur. "Chalk it up to your seductive wiles, Point Man."
"I was planning on it," he assured her. "You did save me a cup of that, right?"
"Here—" she thrust the steaming coffee at him and checked her cell phone. "Okay, we have time . . ."
"Ungh," he agreed around the croissant in his teeth. Arthur slipped his suit jacket on and took a bite between packing up his keys, phone and briefcase. Ariadne already had another scarf—this one a nubbly aqua one—wrapped around her throat, and was pulling her coat on as well. They stepped out and rode the elevator down to the lobby, the old cage rattling slowly.
At the lobby, Ariadne turned to look at him, embarrassed, and Arthur realized she was almost squirming. "What?"
"My stuff . . . the key," she murmured, running delicate fingers through her damp hair. "What time is check out?"
"You've got the room for two days," Arthur replied quietly. "Remember I said I wasn't going to invade your space? I meant it, you know."
"I can't—" he heard her say, and then give a little gulp. "Arthur, it's really sweet, but-"
"You asked," he reminded her firmly. "I said yes. Go teach, Ariadne, and I'll pick you up when you're done. We'll figure out what to do then, okay? Not now—then."
His words made her relax a little and grin; they looked at each other for a long moment, and Ariadne gave a sigh. "Okay."