Chapter 7: All for you
Caitlin
We sneak off to his room here at the lab and slip inside. It's dark and welcoming in its privacy, enclosing us as passion too long deferred surges. With every deep, arousing kiss, I'm forgetting my worries, letting them fade, allowing myself to be swept off my feet by Harrison Wells.
His bed is little more than a glorified slab, a perfunctory bunk only a formerly self-punishing spartan like Wells would find appealing. But I don't care about any comfort other than the feeling of his arms around me as we somehow, blindly make our way to the bed. He unzips the back of my gauzy blue sleeveless top, the one I was hoping he'd like, pulls it over my head as I straddle him, his hardness beneath me increasing my own desire, making me moan and bite my lip in anticipation.
Harrison's fingers linger at the front clasp of my pale pink bra as he asks me, his voice hoarse with a wanting that matches my own, "Caitlin…are we going too fast? We've never even been on a date. I want everything to be perfect for you, the way you want it to be, the way you deserve."
I grin down at him and reply, "Would you like to go get dinner right now, really?"
"Good point," He gives in and slides me beneath him, kissing my neck, biting my skin lightly, his tongue flicking over my collar bone, as his fingers find my pants' button and ease it open, sliding the zipper down. His urgent stiffness increases under my hand when he feels the wetness at my core, stroking it gently through my underwear as I throw my head back and lose my breath.
"This is what I want," I murmur in a voice he's managed to make into a purr with his attentions. "I think you can tell."
"Yes," he whispers, slowly, too slowly removing my bra and cupping my breasts, then with one hand fingering my nipples as his other returns to my aching, pleading lower region. When he lowers his mouth to my breasts and slides my underwear down, teasing me with one finger poised to enter me, I resort to begging.
"Please," I groan, overwhelmed by the erotic sensation of his tongue against my nipples as he gives into my plea and slides his finger into my moist center, my hips rising to urge him on, to let another finger take part. He clearly can't take the wait anymore patiently than I can at this point, having done everything he could to torture me deliciously with the promise of removing all further separation between us.
He throws my pants aside and yanks my panties off, heedless of trying to maintain a modicum of his gentlemanly caution. I remove his shirt and relish touching him, his irresistibly strong arms, his chest, pressing my mouth to his heart and then pulling his jeans off as he shivers with the feeling of my nails trailing down his back.
He enters me so easily, my body more than ready, slick and hot for him as he begins to move, slowly at first, tentative enough to return me to my previous mania of impatience. I utter a moaned syllable or two that sounds like gibberish to my own ears before managing, "don't stop," a request that causes him to thrust into me harder, more intensely, surrendering completely to what we both need.
Afterward, my head on his chest and his hands still clutching my stomach and hips in a way that gives me freshly mischievous thoughts despite being completely out of breath, I ask him, "what are you thinking?"
Wells
I laugh, admitting, "I'm thinking…what is she thinking?" My heart is pounding so hard right now I think I can hear it echoing all around us.
She props her chin up on one hand and smiles warmly. "I'm thinking…what took us so long?"
"Is that a real question?" I ask, and she nods. "Well, I spent quite a while believing that you just did not, and never could, see me romantically. First, because I knew I was not the romantic type—"
"Oh, really? I beg to differ!" She playfully bats my shoulder.
"Okay, so I thought I wasn't. And I was mad at myself for continuously having these thoughts about you, especially because you were with Jay…and then after he betrayed you so terribly, I thought what a jerk I would be to make any kind of move when you'd just had your heart broken."
"I wasn't in love with Jay. I definitely a little too busy falling in love with you," Caitlin admits. "At the time, I wished I could be in love with Jay. He kept pursuing me, and he was so…or seemed so…nice, like being with him would be simple and easy. And you were so…"
"Dark? Dangerous?" I smiled ruefully at the helpful adjectives. "Definitely not nice."
"Pretty much," she admits, "but never underestimate the appeal of dark and dangerous, not when there's a good man underneath all that desperation."
"After the experience you had with the other me right before we met, I assumed you'd never trust me," I recall.
"You mean Thawne, but that wasn't you," Caitlin corrects me quickly. "A very wise person once told me, no version of you could be evil. That goes both ways, you know. As soon as I started to get to know you, saw the real you, I knew you had nothing in common with him."
I stroke her arms, her wrists, hating the bracelets now more than ever. It's like she can never relax, and no one deserved a break from the chaos and stress more than Caitlin.
"Don't worry about those," she reassures me, as if she's read my mind. "I'm not. We'll find a solution, or we won't, but I don't care about them right now."
"You are quite a woman, Snow," I marvel, and notice that her expression has become decidedly devilish.
"So tell me," she asks, "Just what were those thoughts you were pondering months back, when you first fell for me? The seemingly forbidden thoughts you hid from me?"
"Oh," I smile playfully and realize, "I guess those thoughts aren't so forbidden anymore…"
"At all," Caitlin reminds me impishly.
"Wouldn't you like to know," I wink, but she's ready for that answer.
"Yes, I would," she says demandingly, fire in her eyes. She presses her bare body closer to my own and adds firmly, "show me."