DCM A/N: This week we are in for a special treat, AydenMorgen has offered up what has originally been a private one shot. Make sure to check out our blog to see her picture prompt www . dirtycheekymonkeys . blogspot . com Ready, set, squeeze!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Squeeze My Lemon~~~~~~~~~ 09.07.11~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steal Away
By: AydenMorgen
A/N: This is for pkmarita, my shank-using, porn-loving, cookie-sharing wifey. Many thanks to Angie_stl and Edward's Eternal for their invaluable assistance, and to KeyeCullen.
~*S.A*~
she danced suspended
caught in a web between
sweet pleasure and pain
a moth whirls around a flame
(W.I. Boucher)
~*S.A*~
Shadows danced across the walls; firelight weaving in gentle rhythm to the crackle and pop of kindling in the grate. Cool air blew through open doors, bringing with it the soft scents of midnight: green grass, lilac, and that subtle hint of rain lying dormant in tufts of cloud. Each was muffled by night, made softer by the cloak of darkness that stretched across the horizon beyond the balcony doors.
His scent weaved through those softer notes like a drop of spice on tissue as he rose to meet me. My eyes caught on bright green and the chiseled bone beneath, and held.
"You're home," he murmured. "I missed you." His lips shaped the words like a kiss.
I felt each one.
"I am," I acknowledged as his eyes roved up and down my form, missing nothing. I took a breath, fighting the urge to fidget and whimper beneath the weight of green eyes and golden skin.
"You look beautiful." His eyes met mine again, darker in that way I'd come to know so well. He had plans for us tonight. The kind that'd have soft moans and the slap of skin to skin joining the chorus of every day sounds playing throughout the penthouse.
"Thank you." I set my bag down carefully, bending at the knees to drop it. My eyes never left his. I wasn't sure they could. "I had a meeting this afternoon."
"Ah." Long fingers wrapped around crystal and lifted. Amber liquid swirled in the glass. "To meetings then." Full lips curved upward as he winked.
I nodded silently, captivated as ever by every little move he made. He wasn't predator and I wasn't prey. But when he looked at me like that – lips curved up at the corners and his eyes gleaming with mischief – I was...something.
And so was he.
Spellbinding. All warm male and wicked desire as he tilted back his glass and swallowed. I fought the urge to whimper again as his throat worked, his Adam's apple moving with each deep swallow.
"Do we have plans?" I asked carefully as he lowered the glass again. It clinked softly against the marble tabletop as he shifted it into place just so.
He shrugged a shoulder and moved toward me, working at his cufflinks as he did so. Strong forearms were revealed slowly as he rolled the sleeves of expensive silk up his arms. "Depends," he murmured, cocking a brow in challenge. "What do you want to do?"
My answer was instantaneous, leaving my lips as soon as the word formed in my mind. "You."
He chuckled as he stepped up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His eyes crinkled as he dropped his forehead to mine and brushed a kiss across my waiting lips. "Oh, I think we can definitely make that happen, love."
I melted into his arms as his lips brushed across mine again. "Please do," I whispered, my tongue darting out to tease at his bottom lip. Brandy and mint, a taste that was purely him, burst on my tongue, pulling a soft moan from my lips.
He took control of the kiss as soon as that moan left my lips; delving his fingers into my hair to tilt my face to his. It was soft on hard – smooth and rich like the warm flavor of the brandy still on my tongue. Stubble scratched at my face as his tongue explored, twining around mine and pulling it into his mouth.
My hands curled into his biceps, feeling the ripple and play of thick muscle beneath silk. His traveled down my back, strong fingers undoing the zipper on their journey downward. Cool air licked at my skin as my dress parted beneath his hands. Fingers kneaded into the muscles of my ass as he pulled me up and into him.
Desire wove between us as our bodies pressed into one another; sparks igniting us both in familiar crackles. It had already been denied too long, pushed aside for mundane things that had no place in the here and now. In this moment and where it was leading.
"Oh," I gasped into his mouth, my hands tightening on his biceps as his cock pressed into my stomach.
"Feel that?" he whispered against my mouth before moving to trail a line of soft kisses across my jaw and to my ear. "I've been hard for you all day, Bella." His teeth nipped at the shell of my ear, his warm breath causing my skin to pebble. "All day, love," he reiterated, lifting me up his body.
My legs wrapped around his waist, my hands sliding up his arms and around his neck to anchor me to him as his mouth found mine again. His kiss this time was masterful, the claiming that whispered of the things I craved, but could not name.
They burned hot, fast…and unmade me entirely.
I didn't care and neither did he. His hands on my body were the only things that mattered when that desire struck. And he never left me to ache alone.
"Please," I breathed against his mouth, grinding down onto his thick length as his lips attached to my neck. "Please, I need you."
That's all it took. His control snapped like a band stretched too tight, his fingers clutching me tighter as he pressed me back into the wall. His mouth was all over me, lapping at my lips, nipping at my collarbones. Firelight flickered behind my closed eyelids, bringing with it an almost hypnotic quality. Each kiss was like a drug in that flickering light, each touch a promise.
Greedy, impatient sounds rumbled from his chest as I circled my hips against him. His cock hit against my center with each frantic move, rubbing against my clit and sending little shockwaves of pleasure throughout my entire body.
"Fuck," he hissed as my head lolled back on a particularly powerful shockwave. It wasn't an orgasm, but God, it was close. It shot through me like a lightning bolt, causing my fingers to tighten painfully in his hair.
His hand tightened in mine as well, pulling it back to expose the line of my throat to him, and I knew he didn't mind that little pain. He never did. It always spurred him on; made him frantic to give me more of the pleasure that stole away reality and replaced it with pure bliss.
"Bella," he groaned into my mouth before breaking the kiss and dragging his lips across my exposed throat and onto the pulse I knew was pounding there. Teeth and lips dragged across that one pounding point. I felt it all the way to my toes.
He shifted against me, his cock rubbing tantalizing circles through the thin layers of fabric again. I was desperate to rip them away and feel him skin to skin. To feel him moving inside of me again. To taste the beads of sweat I knew would slide like water droplets down his gorgeous body.
"You're so responsive," he murmured into my throat between kisses and nips at my skin. "I can feel your heart pounding for me right here." The tip of his tongue worked across my pulse point. "And here." He ground his cock into me again. "But I want more. I want to hear you screaming for me when I make you come, Bella."
A throaty whimper erupted from my mouth at his wicked whisper. If that's what he wanted, I'd give it to him. I'd scream the walls down around us if that's what he wanted. Anything, just so long as he was inside of me soon.
My hips jerked, driving me down onto him as he hummed his approval of my wordless response and bit at my throat. It was that razor's edge between pain and pleasure. The same tightrope I loved to dance with him.
He pushed us away from the wall and unwrapped my legs from around his waist. His hands on my sides steadied me, my legs refusing to cooperate. They were rubber beneath me, flimsy and uncertain.
"Steady, love," he said, green eyes dilated to familiar, coal black. It was moments like this, when he looked at me with lust and pleasure burning through black rimmed emerald, when I forgot to breathe, forgot I even knew how. There was nothing as intense, as captivating as this wicked man looking at me as if I were his salvation, his prey, and his world all wrapped in one.
My knees buckled as he lifted his hand and caressed my cheek gently.
He chuckled as he caught me with ease and pulled me up against his chest again. His heart hammered beneath my ear, a strong, steady song that worked in rhythm with my own.
"Come here," he murmured, twining his fingers through mine and leading me to the chaise he'd abandoned upon my arrival. I followed behind wordlessly, feeling the air cool the further into the room we went. Wisps of fresh air blew through the opened balcony doors, the scent of wilderness stronger here.
His hands slipped from mine as we neared the chaise, his fingers at my wrist lifting them to drape over the back. Soft velvet brushed across my fingers as his slid up my arms to part the fabric of my dress again. My eyes closed as he stepped up behind me, his body radiating heat, safety…home.
Soft kisses were pressed into my skin as he eased my dress down my shoulders and let it slip from my arms. "Beautiful," he whispered, one fingertip inching my bra strap down. His lips followed, trailing across my skin.
He worked in silence then, stripping me reverently as I clutched the back of the chaise to keep myself upright.
Only when I was completely bare to him did he speak again. "Lean forward." His hand on my waist guided me as I widened my stance and bent forward over the chaise as directed.
Long fingers trailed down the center of my spine. Palms cupped the swells of my ass. His whole hand pressed between my legs from behind.
"Oh God," I groaned, another shockwave rippling through me at the touch of his hand upon me.
"So wet already." He parted my folds and slipping one finger inside. It stroked across my clit, circled my opening, and then pressed slowly inside.
My grip on the chaise tightened as he began pumping it inside of me. The silk of his shirt and the heat of his body pressed so close to mine worked in tandem with that single finger, driving me toward the ledge I was so eager to jump from.
"Steady," he whispered again as my body began to tighten. Moisture trickled down my thighs, filling the room with the scent of sex. It was a heady combination – wilderness, fire, my arousal and his warmth.
I wanted more.
I neededmore.
"I need…" he breathed as if reading my mind. His body inched away from mine as he dropped to his knees behind me. He never did finish that sentence, but I knew what he needed. It was the same thing I needed. More.
His tongue darted out to swipe through my folds, his hands wrapped around my thighs the only thing holding me upright. I cried out as his tongue laved across me, my stance widening to grant him better access.
He took that invitation with a soft, satisfied grunt, working his tongue through my folds again and again. I cried out softly with each decadent swipe, the shockwaves racing through me piling one atop the other until I was nothing but a ball of rigid, whimpering sensation.
His tongue teased along the bundle of nerves there and I moaned louder as those shockwaves and fires leapt higher. I moaned again as he slid it inside of me and twirled.
A billow of air blew through the open doors, caressing across my heated body. That sensation – cool air on overheated skin – was my undoing.
"Oh God, oh God," I cried out as I began to come.
His hands tightened like vises on my thighs, holding me steady as his mouth continued to work. His tongue pressed. His lips pulled. His teeth raked.
I shook and cried out his name, sensation after sensation racing through me.
"Yes," he hummed between my legs. His tongue made one final, wicked swipe as I slumped, boneless, over the back of the chaise. His hands squeezed my thighs gently before falling away, only to close around my waist as he rose behind me again.
Silk shifted as he removed his shirt. Metal teeth hissed as his zipper inched down.
His lips pressed against my neck as he fitted his body against mine, his cock slipping between my legs to nudge right where I wanted him. I moaned softly as he pushed himself inside, slowly filling me. He moved gently, his hips thrusting against mine and his hands sliding up my body.
Once again, no words were spoken as he made love to me, both of us too far lost in the moment, both hearing everything in the bubble that enveloped up. Quick breaths, crackling logs and the soft slap of skin to skin said everything.
I love you.
You feel so good.
I need this.
I need you.
Sweat dripped from his body onto mine as his strokes increased. I bit my lip, my eyes rolling backward in my head as he hit that spot deep inside that made me see stars.
The coil began to tighten as his moan shattered the softness of the moment. His fingers dug into my hips. I knew it'd bruise, but I didn't care. It felt good, right, as he went harder, deeper, and fucked me faster.
I cried out his name, screamed it as I pressed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
"Look at me," he whispered in my ear.
I obeyed instantly, struggling to force my eyes open as he thrust into me again and again. They rolled wildly as I turned my head. Bright green stared back at me from his flushed face. Once again, I was caught, breathless.
His eyes stayed locked on mine, refusing to release me as his pace increased. Raw energy danced between the two of us, weaving pleasure atop pleasure until we were both gasping for breath and straining toward the link in the chain that caused it all to snap…and fall.
We fell together, his lips against mine to muffle my screams and his own guttural groans. Waves washed over both of us – heat, desire, release. They went on for days, rippling and waving through me, and through him.
I slumped against the chaise, breath coming in harsh pants, as the tidal waves finally receded. Everything felt stuffed with wool, dim, far away. Everything but him.
He was warmth and light around me; everything real. Everything I wanted.
"I love you," he whispered softly, brushing my damp hair away from my face to kiss me softly.
~*S.A*~
* Inspired by the poem Ballerina on a Razor's Edgeby W.I. Boucher.
DCM A/N: '...heat, desire, release." Oh we feel that! Please make sure to leave AydenMorgan some love.
Next week we are bouncing in our seats to have bornonhalloween writing for us, psss...we heard from a little birdy that it might be some slash.
If you are interested in writing for us or have an author recommendation, drop us a pm, stalk us on the blog or on twitter (at DirtyCMs)