Author's Note: The rest of the night from April's POV. More smutty times ahead.
April
"Oh…oh yes," I murmur, arching my back off the floor of the Shellraiser.
His hands and mouth move over my skin and I have quickly lost control of the situation. I can pinpoint exactly when it happened. I was feeling so proud of myself. It had been weeks since I saw anything even close to the grin that was plastered on Donnie's face and I knew I put it there. He leaned back in his chair with a low sigh that seemed to reach to the tips of his toes and beamed at me with enough adoration to make me blush. I was about to ask if he was all right, if what I did was all right. I've never done anything like that before and even in this my competitive nature couldn't be quashed.
His dopey grin slid into a smirk and he moved forward faster than I expected. I squeaked and giggled as he wrapped me in his arms. He spread out the blanket on the floor of the Shellraiser, setting me down gently. That was the moment I lost control. When he leaned over and pressed his mouth along the ridge of my collarbone. If this is what it feels like to let go I should do it more often. A few more passes of his mouth was all it took to get me here, squirming and whimpering and very near to begging for more.
"You're so beautiful," he sighs against my throat, his warm breath sending another shiver through my body.
The compliment makes me blush, as it always does, but I'm quick to forget my bashfulness when his attention moves to my breasts. Each touch is still new and exciting and enough to make the warmth in my belly move lower. The delicate precision of his fingers draws out tiny whimpers from deep in my throat and I find myself lifting with slow, arching movements towards every brush of his hand. I don't want him to ever stop touching me. His mouth closes around one of my nipples and I gasp at the sudden sensation.
My hands scramble for purchase across the grooves of his shell until they settle on the strong dip of his shoulders. A deep, steady rumble sounds in his chest and I lift up once more to be closer to it. I feel it reverberate through my belly as I press up against his plastron. His mouth leaves my breast and the sudden retreat of warmth leaves me whimpering at the loss. There's a hand on my hip and I'm suddenly very aware of how constraining denim is.
"Pants," I mumble, in perhaps not my most eloquent display of the English language.
I don't wait for him to fumble with the small buttons. I'm through waiting. I reach down and pry them open, lifting my hips to wiggle the jeans over my bottom and down to my ankles. His hands follow mine in an instant. The cool brush of his fingers over my thighs a thing of pure beauty. I kick off the offending garment and sigh as he settles between my knees. There's a moment of pause, it's no longer than a few heartbeats but I can sense the uncertainty like a bitter taste at the back of my throat. I reach for him, tilting his face up to force his gaze.
"Kiss me," I say, meeting his lips with an eager moan.
The rumble is back in his chest and I find it quickly becoming one of my most favorite sounds in the world. I know I'm the only one to ever hear it and I want to claim it as my own. Our kiss deepens and soon I'm shamelessly moving against his roaming hands and moaning with every press of skin and sweep of his tongue. His mouth moves to my throat and I gasp at the gentle scrape of his teeth against the drum of my pulse.
"Do…do you want?" he asks, his voice deep and husky in a way that sends my insides squirming into a ball.
He doesn't elaborate, but his fingers slide beneath the soft fabric of my underwear, lingering just below my bellybutton until he's given permission. Even in my squirming, whimpering state I have to center myself enough to think this through. For all my bravado there are still things I am just not ready to do and I need to be clear to put him at ease. He won't do anything if I don't assure him it's what I want.
"You…like I did…for you," I say, my entire body burning with the warm flush the words send through my body. "If you want to," I add quickly, resisting the urge to hide my face in my hands.
He captures my mouth with a kiss and I'm grateful for the distraction. It doesn't last as he pulls back and leans his forehead against mine. His eyelids lower and his breath comes in slow, determined puffs of air. No one has ever looked at me with such open desire and the shock and newness of it threatens to undo me. It's intimate and heated and so very adult. There is no question of want. Somehow, in the space of a few quiet moments it has grown into a need. I roll my teeth over my bottom lip and stare into his eyes, hoping I can mirror that look back at him. The corner of his mouth tugs upward into the tiniest hint of a smile before he cups my face in his hand and gently kisses me once more.
"Relax," he says quietly, mimicking my own instructions to him only a few minutes earlier.
I giggle and sigh as his mouth takes a slow and languid path down between my breasts before teasing along the dip of my ribs. I try to relax, I try to cling to some semblance of control even as his hands press against my hips and his mouth moves along the inside of my thighs. My low moans echo and drum inside the metal walls of the Shellraiser, ringing in my ears until I can't decide which is louder the noises I'm making or the pounding of my heartbeat. A strangled cry rips from my throat as he slides the last few inches towards my center. He pauses at the sudden cry and I lift my hips in encouragement.
"D-don't stop!" I whimper between increasingly shortened breathes.
I hear a low chuckle and half-heartedly nudge him in the carapace with my heel. All thought or flimsy sense of control is lost as he lowers his head and I feel his tongue move against me. I twist my hand into the blanket, no longer caring how loud I'm being or anyone else's disapproval. It's only us. It's warm and slow and just a little bit rough in all the right places. I've never felt anything so wonderful. My eyelids flutter and my toes curl as the pressure and warmth in my stomach builds until I'm afraid I might lose myself in the height of it.
"Donnie," I moan, his name tumbling past my lips amid a jumble of incoherent vowel sounds.
I gasp at the sudden added pressure between my legs. He hesitates, moving his finger in a slow circle against me, waiting for permission; even spread and wanton he doubts my desire, doubts my need. I wrap my ankle around his leg and lift my hips closer to his hand with a whimper. I want to erase any hint of doubt, no matter how small. I need him to know that I want this, that I want him.
"Yes," I pant. "Donnie…please…"
The rumbling sound in his chest grows to a steady purr and another gasp leaves my lips as he slides a finger inside of me. It doesn't take much more to push me over the edge. I shift my hips forward and clench down around his finger as I see stars. His hand slows and I shiver when it leaves me entirely. A few stray licks and a careful nibble along the inside of my thigh pulls out one last moan, leaving me a panting, sleepy jumble of trembling limbs and flushed skin.
"Was that…all right?" he asks quietly, kissing and nuzzling his way up my body before settling in beside me.
Even though he's asking for reassurance, I can't miss the tiny hint of smug satisfaction in his voice. I nod around a hoarse chuckle and roll onto my side to nuzzle my head beneath his chin. He pulls the blanket over me and kisses the top of my head. I know we can't stay here for too much longer, our absence has probably already been noted. We're not exactly breaking any rules. My Dad and Master Splinter said we couldn't be alone in our rooms, they never said anything about the Shellraiser. I know it's a thin argument but it's the only one I've got. A small spark of fire flares to life in my chest. I shouldn't have to argue about this in the first place. We're not doing anything wrong and it's none of their business.
"I love you," he says, nuzzling against my hair.
My anger drifts away and I tilt my head to smile up at him. I don't care if we get in trouble. It doesn't matter. They can think whatever they want. This has nothing to do with them. My heart flutters at the admiration and sincerity in his eyes and somewhere deep inside I know that no one else will ever look at me with that purity of love ever again. What we have is special. I know it is and nothing can take that away from us.
"I love you too," I whisper, reaching down to entwine our hands.