He tensed, his fingers trembling and finally clenching
in the fabric of my pants. He looked up at me with vulnerable eyes, wider
and somehow a more intense blue than I had ever seen; perhaps he was unsure
of himself in this.
He opened his mouth to say something, but I shook my head. "If there are details to be dealt with, if there are protocols to follow; they wait until dawn."
It took a moment for him to take what I said and let it sink in, but he did. With that, I found myself grabbed by my shirtfront and pulled into the roughest kiss I'd ever had.
All the pent-up energy, all the stress and worry and whatever ungodly force compelled him to smoke a pack in fifteen minutes just poured from his mouth into mine, lips and teeth and tongue and rough, calloused hands conspiring to tear me in two. He pushed me away just long enough to pull my shirt open, then pulled me close again, nearly crushed me against his barrel chest. I felt selfish at that moment, just for the elation that coursed through me as I tasted the tobacco on his tongue, but it quickly went to the back burner; I decided to follow my own advice and stop thinking.
Looking back, it likely wasn't a good idea at all. Such recklessness, such abandon; under different circumstances we might have been hurt or, at that height, even gotten killed. But, at the same time, that was part of the thrill.
Within seconds Cid had pinned me against the wall of the gondola, all hot kisses and strong arms, and admittedly I was more than a little delirious. He leaned flush against me as we stood shakily on the floor, and his body pressed against me in all the right places. I suppose it was only sheer luck that I felt the rattling of the cord and the creaking of the machinery; I had the presence of mind, somehow, to jam my claw into the motor as we passed it.
Cid blanched, pulled away. "What the f--?"
I grabbed him by the collar and kissed him soundly. "I don't want us to be interrupted."
We peeled each other out of our clothes and laid my cape down on the floor, and soon Cid had me pinned to it. He planted his hands over my elbows, keeping them up over my head where I couldn't use them, and he lowered his head to my chest and did something I had not anticipated.
He went slow. Not quite romantic, not quite lovingly, and certainly not gentle; just slow. He took his time with me, finding places along my neck and chest and stomach that I hadn't known were so sensitive. His tongue slid over my skin, smooth and hot and sensual; I couldn't help but toss my head and moan, murmuring his name.
With my hands pinned, I was at his mercy, and I remained that way until I felt his hot breath against my thighs; he put a forearm across my hips to hold me down, and he took me to the hilt almost at once. The sudden wet heat sent a jolt through me, and it was all I could do to slide my hand into his hair. I felt myself reaching climax and I shoved him away, sitting up.
He looked almost wounded. "Vin--"
"No," I said, "It's not that. I just... didn't want to finish that way."
"This ain't fuckin' over," he said, and I managed to pin him down this time. I straddled his hips, put my hands on his chest to balance. I had been with men before, in my younger and wilder Turk days, but I had never been on the submissive end of things; I looked forward to it. Cid had my trust.
"Like this?" he asked breathlessly as he raised me up.
I nodded, and I let out a deep breath as Cid's strong, broad hands steadily eased me down onto him. After a moment he began to gently rock his hips; we moved together that way, a hard rhythm that felt so wonderful, so natural, as though we were moving to clockwork. I looked down into Cid's half-lidded eyes as he watched me ride.
Or our own heartbeats, I thought, with a distant, content feel.
He sat up so that I was sitting in his lap, then pushed me down onto my back; whether it was the position itself or just the angle, every thrust struck something in me that sent shocks through my body. All my thoughts turned to static as I cried out, moaning Cid's name.
"MMnnn... Unh, God.. Vincent...mm... tell me, baby, tell me how you like it...mmn..."
I had no idea how to answer, but the sound of his voice just made the words come. "Oh, God... Cid, harder.. Mmm, please, Cid, do it harder.. yeah...like that, mmm.. like that...!" It felt so good this way, his hands on my hips, pulling me back onto him, thrusting into me and striking that chord, over and over until I needed to scream.
I could feel him getting frantic, close to orgasm; all at once, without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so that I could whisper in his ear as he drew closer and closer to the edge.
"Vince," he breathed, "I-I'm..."
"That's it, Cid, mmmm," I murmured. I felt his body tighten as I spoke. "Mmmn, so hard... that's it, baby, come for me, mmm... oh, Cid, come inside me.."
His back arched and his fingers clawed at my skin, voice strained as he came; the force, the feel of it, and most of all the sound of his pleasures coursed through me and sent me into the final throes of orgasm, blinding me.
When I came back down, we were collapsed together on the floor of the gondola, breathing hard and exhausted. I wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, but Cid had curled up around me with his arms strewn across my waist.
"We'll have to go back to the room," he said, voice roughened and tired.
I stroked his hair for a moment as we both caught our breath.
"It can wait."
He opened his mouth to say something, but I shook my head. "If there are details to be dealt with, if there are protocols to follow; they wait until dawn."
It took a moment for him to take what I said and let it sink in, but he did. With that, I found myself grabbed by my shirtfront and pulled into the roughest kiss I'd ever had.
All the pent-up energy, all the stress and worry and whatever ungodly force compelled him to smoke a pack in fifteen minutes just poured from his mouth into mine, lips and teeth and tongue and rough, calloused hands conspiring to tear me in two. He pushed me away just long enough to pull my shirt open, then pulled me close again, nearly crushed me against his barrel chest. I felt selfish at that moment, just for the elation that coursed through me as I tasted the tobacco on his tongue, but it quickly went to the back burner; I decided to follow my own advice and stop thinking.
Looking back, it likely wasn't a good idea at all. Such recklessness, such abandon; under different circumstances we might have been hurt or, at that height, even gotten killed. But, at the same time, that was part of the thrill.
Within seconds Cid had pinned me against the wall of the gondola, all hot kisses and strong arms, and admittedly I was more than a little delirious. He leaned flush against me as we stood shakily on the floor, and his body pressed against me in all the right places. I suppose it was only sheer luck that I felt the rattling of the cord and the creaking of the machinery; I had the presence of mind, somehow, to jam my claw into the motor as we passed it.
Cid blanched, pulled away. "What the f--?"
I grabbed him by the collar and kissed him soundly. "I don't want us to be interrupted."
We peeled each other out of our clothes and laid my cape down on the floor, and soon Cid had me pinned to it. He planted his hands over my elbows, keeping them up over my head where I couldn't use them, and he lowered his head to my chest and did something I had not anticipated.
He went slow. Not quite romantic, not quite lovingly, and certainly not gentle; just slow. He took his time with me, finding places along my neck and chest and stomach that I hadn't known were so sensitive. His tongue slid over my skin, smooth and hot and sensual; I couldn't help but toss my head and moan, murmuring his name.
With my hands pinned, I was at his mercy, and I remained that way until I felt his hot breath against my thighs; he put a forearm across my hips to hold me down, and he took me to the hilt almost at once. The sudden wet heat sent a jolt through me, and it was all I could do to slide my hand into his hair. I felt myself reaching climax and I shoved him away, sitting up.
He looked almost wounded. "Vin--"
"No," I said, "It's not that. I just... didn't want to finish that way."
"This ain't fuckin' over," he said, and I managed to pin him down this time. I straddled his hips, put my hands on his chest to balance. I had been with men before, in my younger and wilder Turk days, but I had never been on the submissive end of things; I looked forward to it. Cid had my trust.
"Like this?" he asked breathlessly as he raised me up.
I nodded, and I let out a deep breath as Cid's strong, broad hands steadily eased me down onto him. After a moment he began to gently rock his hips; we moved together that way, a hard rhythm that felt so wonderful, so natural, as though we were moving to clockwork. I looked down into Cid's half-lidded eyes as he watched me ride.
Or our own heartbeats, I thought, with a distant, content feel.
He sat up so that I was sitting in his lap, then pushed me down onto my back; whether it was the position itself or just the angle, every thrust struck something in me that sent shocks through my body. All my thoughts turned to static as I cried out, moaning Cid's name.
"MMnnn... Unh, God.. Vincent...mm... tell me, baby, tell me how you like it...mmn..."
I had no idea how to answer, but the sound of his voice just made the words come. "Oh, God... Cid, harder.. Mmm, please, Cid, do it harder.. yeah...like that, mmm.. like that...!" It felt so good this way, his hands on my hips, pulling me back onto him, thrusting into me and striking that chord, over and over until I needed to scream.
I could feel him getting frantic, close to orgasm; all at once, without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so that I could whisper in his ear as he drew closer and closer to the edge.
"Vince," he breathed, "I-I'm..."
"That's it, Cid, mmmm," I murmured. I felt his body tighten as I spoke. "Mmmn, so hard... that's it, baby, come for me, mmm... oh, Cid, come inside me.."
His back arched and his fingers clawed at my skin, voice strained as he came; the force, the feel of it, and most of all the sound of his pleasures coursed through me and sent me into the final throes of orgasm, blinding me.
When I came back down, we were collapsed together on the floor of the gondola, breathing hard and exhausted. I wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, but Cid had curled up around me with his arms strewn across my waist.
"We'll have to go back to the room," he said, voice roughened and tired.
I stroked his hair for a moment as we both caught our breath.
"It can wait."