12. Need
Riddick woke Zemma and pulled her to her feet. Heslowly unzippedher daily grays, and pulled the top down beyond her shoulders, pinning her arms. He held her wrists against her side and took his time kissing her neck and shoulders. Zemma squirmed to free her hands and reach for him.
"Patience…" He whispered against her ear.
Zemma felt her insides melt and she leaned into him. She could feel him straining against his pants so she twisted a little to rub against him.
"Uh huh." He told her, and held her back away from him just a bit, not relinquishing his grip on her wrists or his lips on her skin.
Zemma just moaned and leaned her head against his, kissing where she could reach.
Riddick reached for Zemma's bra, tickling her back as he went, and unhooked it, but did not free her from it, or her clothes yet. His hand came around and reached up under the silky material where he squeezed lightly.
Zemma groaned in frustration again.
Riddick laughed softly against her neck, but he had freed one hand, so Zemma reached for his shirt. He let her pull it up and stroke his abdomen with her fingertips, but she couldn't reach higher, trapped by her own clothes.
"Let me out of these," she whispered.
"Mmmm. No." She could feel his smile against her neck.
"You are a control freak, have I mentioned that?"
"Once or twice. And you are in too much of a hurry."
Zemma loved the feel of his low voice against her skin and his teeth brushing lightly as he spoke or nipped at her. She let her fingernails dig into his muscles a bit, and felt them contract in reaction. Riddick held her one hand tighter still, and with his other squeezed her tit, closer to where she wanted. Zemma pushed against his hand.
"Mmm, here?" He asked her, teasingly.
"Yes, oh yes." Zemma breathed out, exasperated.
"Say, 'please,'" he grumbled. Zemma could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice.
Was he teasing her? Zemma pulled back a little to look curiously at his face. He was smirking a little, but the tilt of his eyebrows told her he was serious too. "And what if I say 'no,' instead?" She asked him archly.
"Then I won't do this…" He stroked her lightly, then stopped suddenly. Zemma groaned and put her head against his chest. She dug her fingernails into his skin.
"You are evil, have I mentioned THAT?"
"Mmm hmmm." Riddick nodded slightly, but did not resume his attentions, or let her go. "I think you called me a 'colossal prick'."
Zemma laughed. "Among other things."
"So I think I deserve a little 'please' now and then." He spoke against her neck again and Zemma shivered.
She wanted to resist, but didn't need to test his strength to know she couldn't go anywhere until he decided to let her go. She settled on to trying to change his mind instead. She found his nipple through his shirt with her mouth, and stroked lightly at his skin with her free hand. He let her go on for a few minutes, and even hummed pleasantly in her ear, before pulling her away.
"Well?" Riddick spoke directly in Zemma's ear. "What's it gonna be?"
Zemma growled, but gave in. "Please," she said shortly.
Riddick resumed his ministrations. "Now say it like you want to convince me," he growled back.
Zemma said something in Furyan.
"That wasn't 'please,'" he said, and pinched her a little harder than she expected. She sucked in her breath.
"Why are you being so mean to me?" Zemma tried to pout a little, but had to catch her breath as he teased her with his hand on her breast, and his mouth on her neck.
"Mean?" He sounded surprised. "I thought you liked this…"
And she did like that. Zemma groaned, and leaned into him again.
"Please," she whispered, giving in to the moment.
Riddick let go of her, long enough to catch her face in both his hands. He looked at her eyes, so like his own, and she melted inside again. He kissed her slowly, still looking at her. Zemma wondered why she bothered to resist him.
When he let her breathe she whispered, "please," again, and wiggled out of her clothes.
"That's better," he smiled at her.
Riddick stopped holding her long enough to peel off his shirt and pants. They stood nearly naked together, touching each other lightly. When he hooked a finger in her panties Zemma squirmed to get out of them, and pushed his under shorts down as well.
Riddick pulled her onto the bed but didn't lay her down. Kneeling, they faced each other, still touching and teasing with their hands. He was hard against her stomach, when she reached for it he grabbed her hands.
"Not yet."
Zemma grumbled, causing him to laugh again. She loved that laugh, and couldn't help smiling in return.
He pulled her hands together over her head and held them in just one of his larger ones. "Drop your lenses," he told her.
Zemma narrowed her eyes at him. Now what? She debated briefly.
His one hand not holding hers rested lightly on her neck and cheek as he waited patiently for her to decide. Zemma quirked her mouth, but did drop her lenses, finally. Now she was in actual darkness; she couldn't see… only feel him touching her. She tried to get out of his grip, to feel him back, but he pulled her hands down behind her neck and held them there.
His hand left her cheek. She felt nails drawing up the back of her thigh and nearly cried out from surprise. She sucked in her breath instead. It wasn't painful. But the light touch tracing over those spots immediately following was delightfully heightened by the sting.
Zemma felt Riddick's lips hovering near her own, felt his quiet chuckle near her mouth. She tried to lean forward to capture his mouth in a kiss but he held her still. Then she knew his face was no longer there as he took a nipple in his mouth. A sigh escaped her.
There was another of the lightest of touches to the back of her thigh that sent chills straight into her. Light scratches up her back made her arch against his mouth. She ground her hips against him.
Riddick pulled away a bit, Zemma felt his hand on her neck and cheek again. "Don't move," he told her. His voice was not requesting but commanding.
Zemma hummed in return.
"I mean it," he warned her.
What was he gonna do if she didn't?
He might stop! The voice in the back of her head cried out.
Zemma smiled to herself.
Riddick's thumb played lightly along her lips. His face came very near to hers. "Don't move," he whispered, and this time his voice held promises. Zemma shivered and closed her eyes.
When he released her hands she locked her fingers together and kept them behind her head. Both of his hands held her face for a moment before tracing down her neck, and chest, stopping to rub there with his palms.
Zemma groaned and leaned into him.
"Don't move," he whispered.
But Zemma had to wiggle. She was surprised by more scratches from her ass, up her back, it actually hurt for just a moment. But then his hands were soothing away the sting and his mouth was on her neck, nibbling near her jaw line. She felt his hands move up her back and catch in her hair just above her hands. He pulled her head back a little, with his lips and tongue and teeth he made his way to her ear. His body was pressed close to hers.
"Be good," he spoke softly, directly into her ear.
Zemma felt goose bumps break out all over her body. She caught her breath. For one moment she wanted nothing other than to please him; just as long as he didn't stop!
"Yes," she whispered back, not trusting her voice not to break.
"Good," He whispered in her ear again, his hands still in her hair and his body rubbing slightly against her.
She tried to pull away to look at him but he held her firmly by her hair, her head turned up and her neck exposed to him. He shook her head slightly and bit at her neck. She stopped, only slightly annoyed, as his teeth felt wonderful.
"Good girl," he purred in her ear.
Zemma didn't laugh out loud, but she was amused by this game. Still, he rewarded her and that was worth it; with one hand still holding her head back, the other caught her tit for his mouth. She groaned and wondered briefly if she would get to reverse their roles at some point. Keeping her hands off him was the hardest part, requiring more self control than she had ever needed to express in their love making before.
'Love making,' now, is it?
She didn't bother to think of a response to the voice.
Riddick's hand left her breast and traveled slowly down, tickling a bit. She expected more scratches but instead he reached under her, his fingers reaching up. Zemma gasped as he slid his fingers into her there. She swayed a bit and he let go of her hair to pull her against him. He let go of her nipple and pressed his forehead against hers before kissing her.
He moaned into her mouth and she felt him twitch against her. "Oh, God," he whispered as his fingers explored her.
Zemma began shaking all over. "Take me," her voice was begging this time.
Still face to face, he chortled, "You didn't say 'please.'" He was panting too.
Zemma's hands came apart, she threw her arms around his neck and clutched at him as her head came forward against him; she bit him on the chest. She whispered a word rather hoarsely against his skin.
"Damn it, that means 'please.' You colossal prick." She said, fiercely.
Riddick laughed as he tipped her sideways onto the bed. "Mmm. Yes, Ma'am," he said huskily, still amused.
Zemma was beyond giggling, as he took her slowly.