A/N: Little bit of a short chapter, but hopefully the lemony goodness of it makes up for that. This picks up right at the end of the last chapter. As always, thank you SO MUCH for the reviews and favourites/follows; they're great incentive to keep writing. And a special THANK YOU to everyone who's popped over to my Tumblr (BleuWrites dot Tumblr, etc.) for all your kind words and encouragement.
Times like these - times when it feels like Tobias can't bear taking his hands off me - make me wonder why people get so excited for cake and fizzy drinks and ice cream, because this is a much better way to finish a meal. Just the feel of his hands sliding up the back of my thighs, fingers curling to press inside of them as he pulls me closer so his hips can press against mine is more delicious than any food I've ever tasted.
"You didn't answer my question," I remind him, nipping at his neck.
"What was the question again?"
I smile, tipping my face against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his hand splaying across my back, lifting my shirt higher as it travels up to my shoulder. "What do you have in mind?"
"A lot less clothes," he says, pulling my shirt off over my head.
"Yeah?" I chuckle.
"Mmhmm," he mumbles, pressing his lips against my raven tattoos. He palms one of my breasts in his hand, fingers itching at the lace edge of my bralette. I don't know if he's just being polite by leaving it on me, or if he's happy enough feeling how hard my nipple is against his palm, and I feel too good to really care.
He pulls away just enough that I can feel his lips form the words against my skin when he asks if he can go down on me. I pull away a little bit more, framing his face in my hands, trying to read his expression. "Please?" I recognize the tone of voice as the same one I used to use with my mother when I was little and begging for something I knew I probably wasn't going to get.
I lean in slow, pressing my chest flush with his, carding my fingers through his hair as I kiss him. It's slow and gentle and loving, covering the nervous flutter I feel at the prospect. We've never done that before, but I can tell he really wants to, and if I'm honest, I want him to. "Yes."
He smiles against my lips, arms cinching around my waist. I kiss him until my lungs are screaming for air, until I'm gasping for breath when I pull away. "We should take this to the bedroom," he says, kissing a trail across my shoulder.
"Okay."
A second later I shriek in surprise as he picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. I can't help smiling at his enthusiasm though. I pull his shirt off with me when he lays me gently on the bed. "That's better."
Tobias folds over me, resting easily in the cradle of my legs. Even like this, separated by layers of clothes his weight and warmth on me is heady, dizzying. I let him lead me, let him deepen our kiss and press me into our bed. He doesn't seem to be in a rush, letting his hands roam over my body languidly, and that's fine with me because I'm far from tired now. And I let my hands explore his body too. I'll never get enough of feeling his muscles tensing and relaxing under my hands, the way his skin flushes at my touch, the way his heart hammers against his ribs when my fingers skirt the waist of his pants.
He noses at the strap of my bra, nudging it off my shoulder before hooking a finger around it and pulling it down just enough to expose the hardened tips of my breast before sliding his hand down my side. He tugs on my jeans, unbuttoning the fly and working the zipper down, but all I can focus on is the wet warmth of his mouth, my breath coming shallow and ragged at the pleasure I feel with every flick of his tongue across my nipple.
His hips roll against mine feeding the hot, aching, tension at my center; the slick slip of my panties not even remotely providing the friction my body is craving. I don't try stifle the steady stream of of moans and sighs bleeding out of me, if anything they encourage Tobias and he spends a long time laving at my breasts. By the time he kisses down my stomach and across my hips and legs as he pulls my pants off I'm panting.
I try to steady my breathing, pushing my hands up into my hair and taking slow, measured breaths. "You're going to have to help me," he says. His voice sounds far away and all I can do it nod weakly, too consumed by my need for him to do anything more than that.
He kisses my ankle and I smile wanly, remembering the night in our old apartment that feels like it happened a million years ago. I was so nervous then, scared of him seeing me, of being bare, not just naked, in front of him. And I'm nervous now too, but it's nothing like what it was then. This is the same nervousness I felt climbing that Ferris wheel and jumping into the net and a hundred other things I've done since I left Abnegation behind. It's exhilarating even though there are worries itching at the back of my brain, but I block them out, reminding myself how much I enjoyed taking him in my mouth, the first time in the shower and all the times since.
Tobias kisses up my leg, curling his fingers around my knee to spread them open enough that he can rest between my thighs. They twitch at the tickle of his hair and he chuckles. I push at his hip with my foot, annoyed, but all it does is make him smother it in my flesh, pulling my skin into his mouth with enough force to leave a mark. My head snaps up, and I stare at him, dumbfounded.
"Too much?" He asks nervously, thumb rubbing across the bruise like he can erase it.
"No," I eek out, letting my head fall back. Definitely not too much judging by the jolt of pleasure it sent through me. "Just unexpected."
"Good unexpected, or bad?"
"Good."
"Good," he parrots back, sounding satisfied.
He presses a kiss against my mound and I try to stifle my groan in the pillow. Even through my underwear it's warm and humid and putting pressure where I want it most. But it's not enough because I'm still covered and all the tension already built up inside of me demands relief. And I get none. He hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls them down my legs, dropping them on the floor with my pants and his before starting his journey back up my other leg.
By the time he gets to the crook of my knee I'm desperate; this isn't teasing, it's torture. "Tobias," I whine as he sucks marks into my thigh, making it the twin of my other.
"If something doesn't feel good, you'll tell me right?" His face is still tilted into my thigh, but his voice is nervous and it makes me realize that he's probably drawing this out because he's unsure how to please me this way.
"I will," I promise him, reaching out to brush my fingers across his hair in, what I hope, is a reassuring way.
He props himself up on one elbow, his other hand slipping between my legs. My cheeks burn in embarrassment at how wet I am, how his fingers glide across my flesh slickly, but I can't stop my hips twitching up into his touch. I bury my face between my arm and the pillow, peeking up at him with one eye as he licks his lips and lowers himself down.
I tense at the first touch of his tongue, just the tip gliding through the seam of my sex. Tobias lifts his eyes to mine, looking for approval and I nod. He face dips back down, repeating the action, each pass pushing further between my folds and I can feel the tension building, rising inside of me, feeding the need for release he created with his first touch. He pulls away, switching back to his fingers for a moment and spreading me open.
His tongue resumes it's path, traveling up and down, and this time on each pass it slips inside my entrance a little at the bottom, and brushes past my clit at the top. Even if Tobias wasn't going as slow as he is trying map out uncharted territory I can tell he's nervous just from the set of his shoulders. I reach down again, gently toying with a few of his curls, trying to silently encourage him.
The action makes him bold enough to slip his tongue fully inside of me, just briefly at first, but then becoming a part of his pattern. I frown, trying to find the words to tell him it's not doing anything for me. It doesn't feel bad or weird or anything, it's just not... enough, I guess.
When I feel him pull away I snap my eyes to his. His brow is furrowed in concentration, like he's trying to puzzle me out. "What am I doing wrong?"
"Nothing," I say quickly, because on the whole he's not and the fact that he's not touching me is making the perfect, wonderful tension he's built up inside of me slip away.
"Tris."
I huff, annoyed with myself more than him that it's so hard to articulate what I need. "I think I need more... inside," I say, feeling humiliation light up my skin in splotchy red.
"Should I try using my fingers?" he asks uncertainly.
I shrug, just as unsure as him because I've never done this either. He lowers himself back down, licking at the taut skin between my hips and then lower. He presses a finger into me and I sigh, pleased. It's still not enough, but it's far better than his tongue. It's a little awkward at first, finding a rhythm and multitasking between his hand and his mouth, but after a few minutes it feels so good I have to work hard to keep my hips still against the bed.
"Ohmygod," I moan, back arching as his tongue finds a spot his fingers never have. My hands tighten in his hair, desperately trying to keep him right there. He chuckles softly against me, pulling one of my hands away. "Sorry," I pant, immediately letting my other hand drop too.
"It's okay," he says, kissing my palm. "I don't mind."
I almost argue with him, but then he's pressing another finger into me, and trying to find that spot again with his tongue and I don't care. His free arm loops around my thigh and keeps my hip still, and I push my hand back in hair, careful not to hurt him, to guide him.
When he finds it again I moan, loudly. He surges into me, encouraged. I watch through slitted eyes, enjoying the way his head looks between my legs, noting absently the way his hips are rutting against the sheets. Nothing has ever felt this good. Not that I haven't enjoyed Tobias touching me before, but nothing has ever felt like this. I whine with every circle and flick of his tongue, my hips jump every time he passes that one spot that's more sensitive than the rest.
I'm only half aware of the obscene sounds of his fingers and tongue, of my moans and his name and every half formed word I'm babbling because I'm so far past coherence I can't do anything more than that. My free hand finds my breast, kneading and pinching, and all of it feels so good my back bows off the bed, my shoulders digging into the mattress and neck straining, everything in me rushing towards where Tobias is at the apex of my thighs.
When his fingers curl inside of me my muscles tense, my breath catches, and with one last hard flick of his tongue I shatter. My body quake and lights burst behind my eyes and I scream out my orgasm. It seems to last forever, and I'm still shaking with it when I push Tobias away, suddenly sensitive to the point of pain. He kisses my thighs and hips and stomach, waiting for me to come down from my high, and it takes me a minute to remember he's probably eager for his release too.
"C'mere," I say, my still weak, my body still shaking as I make grabby hands at him.
He pulls himself up the bed, propping himself up on his knees between my legs. I try to guide him towards my entrance, but he pulls away. "Don't. I'm too close." He reaches between us, collecting some of my wetness on his fingers before taking himself in hand. I do the same and with both of our hands sliding over him, he comes across my stomach after a few strokes.
When he catches his breath he grabs his discarded shirt and cleans me up before tossing it aside and rolling away to rest at my side.
"It's a good thing the walls are soundproofed," he says, nuzzling against me.
"Shut up," I mutter, cheeks flushing at the reminder.
"I wasn't complaining."
It takes a while for me to do another other than lay there, lax and boneless and drained from my orgasm. But eventually I realize how sticky it is between my thighs and how my stomach itches where Tobias came and I force myself to sit up.
"Take a bath with me?"
Tobias follows me to the bathroom and leans against the vanity while I draw the bath, scowling as I pour soap into it. "You're going to make me smell like a girl, aren't you?" He teases. I roll my eyes and pull him in with me, settling at one end while he settles at the other. The bathtub comfortably fits both of us. In a few minutes sweat is beading on my face from the steam and hot water, but it's perfect, delicious like Tobias' touch was earlier.
I sink down into it, resting my head against my folded arm and watching Tobias at the other end. One of his hands smooths up and down my calf under the water as he talks, telling me about how he got the information of Amity's computers without tipping off Micah. Christina has complained, more than once, about how Uriah gets sleepy after sex. It wasn't a detail I ever wanted to know, but I can't help noticing how Tobias gets talkative after. I wonder idly if there's more too it than just the fact that he's relaxed, if he feels closer to me after we're physical, or if this is how he appeases my need to know him so I don't feel like I'm doing this stuff with a stranger.
"The Abnegation leaders asked me if I wanted to speak at the dedication of the war memorial," he says, pulling me out of my abstraction. "Because of Marcus," he adds when I give him a questioning look.
"What did you say?"
"No," he scoffs. "There's nothing to say now that he's dead. And what I'd say to him if he was alive isn't something I'm willing to tell everyone in the city."
"What would you say?" I ask before I can stop myself.
He looks up at me, and I can tell he's debating whether or not he should even tell me, but before I can apologize for asking in the first place he opens his mouth to speak.
"I don't know, really," he says slowly. "I hate him so much... there aren't words. I just wanted to scream at him; not say anything, just scream at him." He pulls my foot up out of the water, propping it against his chest as his fingers knead at the arch. "And there isn't anything he could have said to me that would have made me forgive him. If he had asked for it I would have to him to fuck off. But what I wanted, what I knew I would never get, was for him to admit what he did to me was wrong."
I know as well as he does that Marcus never would have done that, not because he had too much pride to admit making a mistake, but because he never truly saw what he did as wrong. The lies he told himself to justify beating Tobias and locking him in a closet weren't lies to him, they were truth.
Tobias drops my foot back in the water, and pulls the other one up, massaging it like it's twin. "Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or do I have to guess?" He says eventually.
"I just wish I could help you more." Because I still feel like I'm learning to swim in the deep end with Tobias' grief. It's not like what I felt when my parents died; it's a minefield of anger and bad memories and regrets.
"You do, more than you know," he says, a small smile curling up the edges of his lips.
I redirect the conversation, back to the new task of finding a group of people to go outside the fence. I mention Uriah's willingness and how it doesn't sit well with me. "I know he wants to go, but I think it's a bad idea. This thing with Christina... I don't think he's really over Marlene."
"You think he's grieving her the way you did your parents?" The word reckless hangs in the air between us.
"I think he's running away," I say, flicking at the cooling water between us.
"Maybe he needs to leave."
"On a suicide mission?" I snap.
"I don't disagree with you, I'm just saying. If you had died I probably would be the first one over the fence."
"Are you sure you don't want to leave?" I ask, all the heat gone out of my voice.
"I'm sure," he says, pulling me across the tub and meeting me in the middle to pepper kissing on my face and neck and shoulders. "Unless you want to go?"
I haven't really thought about it, but the idea that we could die... everything inside of me revolts at the idea of losing Tobias. Maybe it's cowardly to stay, but after my parents and Caleb I can't lose him too. I shake my head then rest it against his shoulder, looping my arms around his waist.
We get out of the tub eventually, the bedroom is bathed in silver light from a full moon and Tobias looks ghostly sitting on the edge of the bed. And it's that, the idea of losing him, that has me pressing him down against the bunched up blankets and sheets at the foot of the bed. There's a flicker of what I felt earlier, but mostly I just need to feel him, close and alive and mine.
He pulls me up the bed, our wet towels joining our discarded clothes on the floor. I can still taste myself faintly on his lips, sweet and pungent clinging to his gums when he opens his mouth to me. I sigh out his name when he pushes inside of me, wrapping him up with my arms around his shoulders and ankles hooked around his waist.
Tobias moves slowly, pulling all the way out and pushing slowly back in, more making love than having sex. It's what I need right now, the chance to really feel every inch of him. He murmurs little things to me, telling me he loves me over and over before we both tumble over the edge. Neither of us bother getting dressed. He pulls the blankets up over us and wraps his body around mine and we fall asleep comforted by each other.