A/N: Anyone up for Scrabble? No? What about Monopoly? Still no takers? There was even a suggestion of a delightful evening of calculus... What? Still no? Sigh. Well, I guess you must all be hungry then... (I can't call this one key lime folks. It's pure lemon meringue. You have been warned. If you don't like that, I suggest you summarize this one mentally as "Whoo. Damn," and wait tranquilly for Chapter 19. But if you do partake of said pie, there had better be a review and a good one!)
Every time I hold you I begin to understand,
Everything about you tells me I'm your man.
I live my life to be with you.
No one can do the things you do.
Anything you want, you got it.
Anything you need, you got it.
Anything at all, you got it.
Baby!
Anything you want
Anything you need
Anything at all
"Anything You Want" ~ Roy Orbison
I.
"Yes or no, Doctor?" She leaned in, whispered her mouth over his, soft, sensual, teasing, there and gone. Her hands caressed his chest, fingertip coming up to trace the collar of his shirt. "You said you'd give me anything. So will you really give me what I want, live up to what you've promised, or not?"
As Amy pressed him back against the couch, her words and her actions loosed the Doctor's restraint, and he let his desperate hands roam. They pulled her to him, one sliding lower, fingers fanning wide to cup her, pull her more tightly into contact with him as the other hand tunneled beneath her heavy hair to rest on the back of her neck. She wanted to groan just at the feeling of him already hard, already ready as his hips shifted beneath hers. She looked down at him expectantly, hands braced lightly against his chest.
His eyes were full of storms and a wicked grin slipped across his mouth. "Madam, I live but to serve. You find me totally at your disposal, yours to command. Use me as you will." And he removed his hands from her, slid them across the back of the couch, leaned back, watched her.
She looked at him in puzzlement for a moment. Then it clicked. Yours to command... Her eyes grew wide.
He knew the exact moment she realized what he was saying. His inward chuckle became a moan as the possibilities of it spiraled across the link to him from her scheming mind. Sweet creative little Pond. Going to be the death of me with things like that... he thought as he saw some of the things she considered and discarded, as her fingertips began to stroke small circles on his shoulders in reaction to what she was planning to do. And the pity is, she doesn't even know what she's doing. Can you imagine if she were aware... He didn't know whether to laugh or cry as the erotic images continued to tumble across his mind, a different kind of teasing foreplay.
*Any and/or all of that. In any order you like. Oh yes, Pond, please.* Despite his intention to let her lead, he brought his hand up to trace the contours of her cheek, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck again and pulled her down for a hungry kiss, unable to resist the blush that stained her cheeks at his comment. His mouth devoured hers, tongue seeking access to plunder with a low growl she could feel as a vibration against her more than hear.
She made a needy little sound into his mouth in the kiss, and he fought the need to roll her under him and simply take, claim. He shivered with the effort. A part of him wanted to, needed to, especially after seeing Rory touch her, kiss her. He knew from the images he'd just seen, though, that she had something else in mind. He'd promised her the reins of the pace, though, had seen the things she desired, and he would not go back on that.
So he pulled back, laid his head on the back of the couch, put his hands there again when he was sure she was steady, and looked at her with eyes that burned. "Do with me what you will, Amelia. I am Yours." *But for the sake of all that is good and holy, please don't spend too much longer just thinking about it, or I can't promise to be responsible for the consequences...*
II.
She looked at him lounging there against the back of the couch, felt him hard as stone beneath her, and his pose and his words were such an aphrodisiac that the first command that tumbled from her lips was almost, "Just fuck me, then."
He'd always been in control. Even though he'd always been gentle and concerned with her first and foremost, even though his pleasure had been in giving her hers, he'd always, always led. She hadn't been sure he'd even known how to relinquish that, how to lay it aside. She wondered now if he truly could. The fact that he was even offering, that he was here now, wanting so much, and she could feel it, feel it like a hot tide surging around her, through her, pulling at her, and willing to allow her to do whatever she liked, however she liked, willing to let her tell him what to do even, made her hot as hell, it must be admitted.
My very own Doctor to play with. But where to begin? This is an embarrassment of riches...
The corners of his lips turned up in amusement, and he tilted his head, no help coming from him at all.
She looked down at that mobile mouth and she made her decision. She leaned down, slipped her fingers into his hair, and she took a hot, greedy kiss from him. She felt his hands come around her slowly, carefully, as if he were trying to restrain himself, and she realized that was exactly the case. She lapped at his lower lip the way he'd done to her a hundred times, felt him smile, felt him open his mouth, and when he did, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He responded with a pleasured sigh, sucking on her tongue, stroking with his own softly in such a way that made her toes curl, made everything inside her tighten and then liquefy, made her try to slide closer to him when they were already pressed as close as they could be.
His hands rested lightly on the middle of her back, just holding her against him. She felt the tension in him from not touching her, and she realized that she wanted him to touch her, wanted his hands to caress her.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than he groaned in something that sounded like relief, and one of his hands slid around her to cup her breast over her clothing. She murmured her approval against his mouth, intensified her kiss. His hand remained still, however, as he continued to meet her increasingly demanding kiss.
She squirmed a little against him.
Wish he'd get under my shirt, wish he'd do that thing he does with his thumb and...
Again, the transition from her thought to his action was almost instant. His hand streaked under the edge of her tshirt, skimmed lightly up her abdomen, to cup her again, his thumb stroking over the aroused peak of her nipple. She gasped, breaking the kiss, head falling back. Did he? Is he? Oh, God...that's good...
He smiled, continuing the motion of his hand. *Starting to see how it works, Pond?*
She met his gaze. His fingers continued to tease her. "I...I think...so..." She leaned into a kiss again, and he met her halfway, fiercely because he knew that's what she wanted, mouths clashing, hot, brief, and then she leaned back again. He had not stopped stroking.
So...so...all I have to do is...
*Right. Your wish, my command. You know. That old saw.*
A surge of pleasure raced through her body at the possibilities of it. Images of the two of them, images of him doing things to her, of her doing things to him, all of it at the whim of her thought flickered through her mind.
*Ah, be careful, Amelia. Don't issue any invitations that you don't intend to be taken, my dear. Make sure you really want those things because I will do whatever you show me. All the restraint today is on your end. Because if it's left up to me...*
He fed her a few of his own, carefully chosen, of what he'd like to do to her, of what he'd like her to have him do to her, of what he'd like her to do to him in return...
Her body arched against his, hips jerking, and she cried out, shuddering. He pulled her against him, holding her as she panted, mind racing.
"I just...Did I...how did I just..."
He kissed her neck gently, nuzzled. "Sorry. Should have warned you that was possible... Different sort of stimulation, see..."
She laughed. "I guess so. That was..different..."
He shrugged, grinned. "Always trying to show you new things, Pond. You know, make sure you see the wonders of the universe, all that..."
Recovering, she leaned back, considered him anew.
He was all too smug. It was time to do something about that. She slid off his lap to sit next to him on the couch. He looked at her questioningly.
"Next?"
She tilted her head to the side, put finger to her lips, and looked at him.
"Interesting choice, that," he murmured, looking at her a moment before he got up and paced away a few steps and began to slowly undo the buttons running down the front of his shirt.
III.
He stripped slowly and with no self-consciousness at all, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as he discarded it, forgetting it as soon as it left his hand. His focus was totally on her, his eyes intense on hers as he toed off his shoes, slipped down the red suspenders he'd put on that morning to match the already undone bowtie dangling from under his collar, removed his shirt. By the time he was down to his undershirt and boxers, she wanted to touch him, wanted to run her hands over the pale skin being exposed, but still she sat, unwilling to miss a moment of this display. He pulled the undershirt over his head, shaking his hair out of his eyes briefly, smiling at her just a little, and her gaze devoured his bared chest, the lean strength of him there.
He skimmed his hands down to the waistband of his boxers, rested them there just a moment, a deliberate tease.
Her eyes flashed up to his, impatient, hungry.
*Yes, ma'am. So sorry...*
The boxers slipped to the floor, and he stood before her fully aroused, completely bare, completely still, a challenge in his eyes. He put his hands behind his back, stood at military attention, feet slightly apart as if he were a soldier being reviewed. The slight arrogance and amusement that he always carried himself with were fully on display.
For a moment, she just looked. Looked and focused on letting him know how much she enjoyed what she was seeing. His eyes darkened, and the amusement there disappeared. She rose, circled him closely but did not touch, continued to feed him her perceptions.
Gorgeous. Built like...like a swimmer...like a runner...all the power in your legs and shoulders. Pale, but that's what happens when you never get in the sun...always hiding inside that suit jacket...
She trailed one fingertip across his shoulderblade, down one arm as she slowly came around him. He shivered slightly but remained still otherwise, tracking her with green-gold eyes.
Such strength here, but it's not showy. It doesn't have to be with you. It's elegant, graceful, beautiful.
She stood before him. His head was slightly tilted back, and he considered her from under his long lashes. She took note of the fact that he was breathing just a little faster than usual and felt a great deal of satisfaction in that, in the tension she saw in his body, that she felt coming from him through the bond. She brought her fingertips to his chest, skimmed them lightly over the muscles there, watched them react to her touch.
Yes. Beautiful is definitely the word, Doctor.
She brushed her right thumb lightly across his nipple, and his eyes slid closed, his head moved just a little. She felt the ripple of pleasure come to her across the bond. She did it again, stepped closer to him, lowered her head to kiss the center of his chest gently, brought her left hand to tease the the sensitive nub of his other. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and his shoulders shifted as his gripped his hands together tightly behind his back to keep from putting them on her. She smiled. His hearts were thrumming beneath her hands.
She leaned down a bit to replace one of her hands with her mouth, circling with just the tip of her tongue before lapping at him. Her hands began to move down his abdomen in slow lazy circles. She turned her nails against him lightly as she went. He made a muted noise, and she saw his hands come to his side, close into fists.
She raised her head, looked back at his eyes, and they were much more black than green-gold. The want in them was breathtaking, made her want to lie down for him right there, made her resent the presence of the clothing that still blocked her body from his as if it were a mortal enemy.
Kiss me. Now. Right now.
His hands crushed her to him, and he wrapped his hands in her hair, angling her head for a savage kiss. She gave every bit as good as she got, her fingers coming up to pull at his hair, grip at his shoulder, and she wrapped a denim-clad leg around his naked ones as she tried to get closer as instinct and desire were demanding. His hands found the bottom of her tshirt and they parted long enough for him to throw it across the room before she pressed herself against him again, both of them sighing, little meaningless noises escaping them at the new pleasure of so much flesh touching flesh.
Suddenly, though, she shoved him back. No. Not yet. Not done with you yet. Her eyes searched his. I...I...want more...Is that okay?
He let go immediately, returning to his previous position, folding his hands behind his back, staring at her with predatory eyes, tongue flickering out to lick the taste of her off his lips. She felt him wrestling his desire back under control. *Anything you want, Ms. Pond. I'm Yours, after all.*
Mine? Curiosity. She'd never thought if it that way before.
Something about that word made her dizzy, hot, hungry. She stepped up again, emboldened, and she traced the nail of her index finger down his chest across his abdomen, circled his belly button, watching the muscles contract in reaction to the sensation.
Mine. Testing it out. Seeing if it fit. She'd surely felt the meaning of it as he'd made love to her, as he'd marked her... Yeah. She rather liked it, actually...
She raised her gaze to his, once again, as she slowly trailed the tip of the finger lower, through the fine trail of hair that began low on his abdomen, lower, lower...
*Pond* His eyes held hers, and he swallowed hard as her finger traced the length of him, as her hand came up to encircle him, exploring, caressing gently. Her other hand joined the first, sliding lower to cup and tease.
See, Doctor? Beautiful. Everywhere. I told you.
She fed him what she was feeling, the power, the lust, and all-consuming desire to please him she suddenly felt as she had him there in her hands hearing him making those soft, needy noises. His eyes slid shut again, and his hands rose to grasp his own hair instead of her in a desperate bid for control as she let him know what was coming next.
He felt her lips, a hot licking kiss, against his chest, an open-mouthed nip against his ribs, and having his eyes closed was no protection. Her strawberry tongue flickered into his belly button, and he shuffled his feet as her wicked hands continued to stroke and tease.
Open your eyes, Doctor.
Obedient, helpless, he looked down, saw her there on her knees in front of him, shivered at the slow smile that curved her red, red lips.
*How fast you learn...*
Her response was only one word, but it set him afire.
Mine.
And she leaned forward and take him with agonizing slowness deep into the heat of her mouth.
IV.
The first words she heard from the Doctor's mind, the TARDIS did not translate. She laughed a little to herself, recognizing that as a marker of Gallifreyan profanity. Every bit as slowly as she'd drawn him in, she pulled her mouth off him again, stroking her tongue against the underside, sucking gently. He was panting, his fingers white-knuckled in his own hair, staring down at her as if she were a miracle and a monster and salvation and destruction all in one ginger package.
She licked her lips and looked up at him with a smug expression all of her own, bringing her hand back up to stroke him gently. "Mmm. Cinnamon and spices. I should have known..."
He was still looking at her as if she might either disappear or attack at any moment. Or fail to do either. And that any of the above would be catastrophic. "Pond..." Desperation.
"Yes? Oh, what? Again?"
*Pond...*
Don't worry, Doctor. She brought her mouth back to him, licked slowly, lovingly, as if she were running her tongue over a lollipop. Told you, didn't I? I'm not nearly done with you yet.
V.
She worked him with her lips and her hands. She teased him with her nimble tongue and with the most delicate possible touches of her teeth. She tormented him with hot laving strokes and with little suckling kisses. He writhed beneath her but he did not touch her. His hips bucked occasionally as she wore down his self-control, but his hands remained fisted at his sides, pulled at his hair, ran over his face in disbelief as she sent wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him.
*Amelia...you must...stop...Amelia...I can't...*
She only intensified her actions. No. Not done yet. More, Doctor. Give me more...
His iron control began to crack. He slipped the fingers of one hand down and into her hair, feeling the pleasure of the satin of it slide through as he gripped her head. She felt his hips thrust once, twice against her, stop.
Yes. Give me. Give me, Doctor. Let go.
He made a noise that was lust and need and so intense as to border on despair. His other hand found her hair, slipped around cradle her face, shaking fingers pressing against her temple. She traced down him again with her teeth, worked the sensitive crown with her lips and tongue. He came up on his toes, back bowing.
Yes. Like that. Give me that. Mine.
He was speaking now, hoarsely murmuring words in his language that she didn't understand at all, his hands gripping her head, his hips rocking helplessly in short thrusts as his control shattered. Moments later his climax swept over him like a huge wave. She felt it rip through her, felt his pleasure become her own through the bond as the taste of him, cinnamon and spices, filled her mouth.
V.
His knees gave out and she caught him as he fell. He seemed dazed, but he pulled her to him, held her against his chest as he panted. She laid her head there, listened to the frantic rhythm of the two hearts there, smiled, pleased at the thought that she'd been responsible for that.
*Yes, you were. I think you bloody near stopped one of them with that. Where did you learn that, Pond? I mean...wait. No. Probably better if you don't answer that one. Never mind...*
She turned her face against his chest, laughing at the little rill of jealously that flowed through him briefly, kissed him. He pulled her up to kiss her properly, their lips lingering together. He held her close and they lay on the rug beside the green fire just enjoying the contact. After awhile, as his hearts began to slow she stroked his arm absently. He smiled against her hair.
"Mmm... Not had enough of me yet, Ms. Pond?"
She smiled back. "Well, technically, I suppose I've had you, but..."
"But... I think I hear a question lurking there..."
"I seem to remember you saying something once about not playing by human rules..."
"Ah."
"Ah."
"Yes."
"Right."
He fell silent again, his hand rubbing her arm gently from shoulder to elbow and back, very slowly. His leg, tangled together with her denim-clad one, shifted upwards. She was extremely aware of every movement he was making. He tilted his head and looked at her a moment.
"Well, we mostly actually have been playing by the human rules for the most part."
"Have we? How do you figure that, then?"
"Well...yeah, I mean mostly. I mean, as much as possible. There are some bits," and here he sent a sensation through their bond that made her shudder and turn her face into his shoulder on a moan, "that can't exactly work that way, but I have tried to keep the playing field familiar." His eyes glittered, something hot, something dangerous there. "Why, Amy? Are you trying to tell me you'd like to play by my rulebook for a change?" She sensed carefully-chained excitement coming from him, something he was trying very hard to restrain.
What the heck? You only live once, right?
He grinned widely. *Ah, Pond. Not necessarily. But that's a different game, altogether...*
And he leaned down to capture her lips with his own.
VI.
For a long time, they simply lay there on the rug, kissing. He caressed her shoulders and back gently, but made no other motion towards removing the rest of her clothing or escalating the intimacy between them. From the level of excitement she was feeling from him, she'd expected...well...not this.
Doctor?
*Patience, little Pond. Patience. You need to be very sure. Very, very sure. Because once you disengage the safeties, once you tell me that this is what you want from me..." He made a little purring sound, turned his face into her neck, rubbing against her, and she felt him kiss her there, felt the quick flicker of his tongue against her skin.
So you're still waiting for me to tell you?
*Oh yes, Amy. Most especially for this.*
She felt a little surprise at that, had thought that he would take the lead again. His lips worked their way up her neck to her ear. His hands continued the same gentle circling as before.
*That's not the way this works in my rulebook, Amy.*
So explain.
He smiled against her, ran his hands down her to press her body against his closely. Then he reached down to thread the fingers of one hand through hers as sucked her earlobe between his lips. She shivered at the sensation. Such tiny things, but somehow so arousing...
*The Mate holds all the power in the bond. She must choose. She must choose to establish it initially, to intertwine their minds. She must choose to allow all true forms of intimacy. He can court, entreat, can seduce, can pursue, but only She can release him fully. She knows that when She does, He will be all-consuming.*
His hand in hers flexed softly.
*Once Her choice is made, once you consent, Amy, if you do, I'll take you. Until I know that my Mate is completely satisfied. In every way. Whatever that means. Whatever that requires.*
She couldn't breathe. Could barely think. She felt his lips press against the corner of her mouth. That voice continued in her mind, pure seduction, pure temptation...
*So now you know the rules of the game, Amelia.*
He kissed her, just a brush of his mouth across hers, a question, an invitation. She couldn't move, felt paralyzed.
*The only remaining question then, my beautiful Mate, my exquisite, lovely, divine, delicious little Mate, is...do you want to play?*
He pulled away slightly, studied her with those star-filled eyes, and she considered briefly what he'd told her. There really was only one answer... Freeing herself from the lethargy that his kisses and caresses, that his words in her mind had created, she raised her hand and stroked his cheek.
He turned his face into her hand, bringing his own to hold it, pressing a kiss to the palm.
Yes.
She felt his body tense. He looked down at her again, his grip over her hand tightening.
*Ah, Pond. You choose? You're sure? Because there can be no turning back from it...*
Yes. Yes, I choose. She felt a thrill of nerves, of anticipation, of pure desire curl through her.
*Then let's play...*
VII.
His hands were suddenly everywhere. Her clothing was disappearing with startling rapidity, and then she was naked as he, feeling the softness of the rug beneath her, the heat of the green fire bathing her body. He lay beside her on his side, his eyes raking over her briefly, proprietarily.
He ran his hand down from her shoulder to caress one breast boldly. His gaze held hers as he lowered his head and flicked the tip of his tongue over the tight peak. She reached for him, threaded her fingers through his hair, and he did it again, no more than that, that single tease, that hot stroke against her. She tugged lightly. Again he teased, circling her nipple this time but still refusing her the hard contact she wanted, opening his mouth to nip her lightly on the soft underside of her breast. She murmured in frustration, pulled harder.
He nuzzled, allowed the tip to slip just between his lips, and she mewled, shifted. He relented, opening his mouth to suck deep as she arched in reaction. His hand slid down her abdomen to cup her where she was throbbing, needy for him, his fingertip tracing over her lightly. She parted her thighs for him, opening, craving his touch. His response was direct; he buried his finger inside her hard, deep, and she gasped, hips rocking in surprise as pleasure filled her. He made a noise of approval against her breast, released her nipple with a final kiss, brought his mouth back to hers as he began to move his hand.
She had been in a state of arousal for so long that when he brought his thumb to slide, to circle, to stroke firmly over her as well, she felt the orgasm rushing toward her. She grabbed at his shoulders to pull him over her but he would not be moved. She grabbed at his arm, but his only response was to suck her bottom lip, to slide another finger into her on the next slick thrust increasing the pleasure, making her buck beneath him.
Doctor...Doctor, please...
*Please? Was this what you're after?* His finger curled inside her, stroking a place that made her entire body bow up, every muscle clenching as lightning struck inside her. *You'll have to tell me, Pond. Perhaps this was what you were requesting...* There was a decided smugness in his tone. He was sitting up now, had maneuvered himself to sit between her spread thighs, was watching the motion of his hands, the response of her body, and he brought his other hand into play, running it down her leg before gently caressing the swollen bud of her between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to stroke in and out of her below. She cried out, eyes closing, head thrashing. She was so close again...so very close...she needed...she wanted...if he'd just...
*No, Pond. What you really meant was... please this... wasn't it?*
And he lowered his head. She came, screaming his name, completely knocked out of herself as the wave of ecstasy hit her.
He hauled her up, pulling her roughly onto her knees into an embrace, his mouth ravaging hers before she was even aware that she was again. *More. Mine. More.* She could feel him pressed against her stomach, and she felt her own desire rise again, hot and savage, felt his every bit as dangerous, every bit as powerful sliding through her. She sank her nails into his shoulders, bit at his mouth in demand. He growled against her, one hand streaking up her back to fist in her hair tightly, using that hold to pull her away slightly.
Her breasts were heaving and she pulled against his restraint, wanting none of it, wanting him back against her, wanting him inside her. Something flared in his eyes, wild and dark and glorious, and he tugged her back against him again, meeting her kiss for ravenous kiss. His hands slipped down her body to her hips, lifted her, and she gasped with surprise and delight as she felt him position her, felt the head of him rub teasingly at her slick entrance. His eyes sought hers and he held them as he pulled her down, slowly impaling her on the rigid length of him. She arched back, wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands gripping his shoulders for support, for leverage as he began to move beneath her.
He used his hands to lift her and maneuver her against him. She rocked against him, incoherent sounds of pleasure falling from her lips as he picked up his pace, spread his knees wider to thrust harder. She fell backwards in a graceful arc and he followed, mouth finding and ravaging her breasts as she felt another climax exploding through her.
As before, he didn't stop to wait for her to recover. He drew her firmly up against his body, kissing her lingeringly, continuing to caress her, hands gentler now, his hips slowly stroking beneath hers.
How long...? You haven't... How long...can you...?
*I told you, Pond. As long as it takes. Whatever you need. Anything you want.*
She put her face into his shoulder, groaning. He kissed her neck, and she felt his smile.
*Besides. You're making a huge presumption there.*
I... am? What?
*That this has been all for you.*
But you haven't...not since I...not since the first time...
*Just because I haven't had a physical climax doesn't mean I haven't had pleasure. There's more than one way to skin a cat, if you'll pardon the particular metaphor, Amy.*
His hips continued to rock beneath hers, and he slipped a hand down between them to stroke her where they joined, lightly. The whole situation had started to seem like a dream. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation while she was astride him...while he was...
*Oh say it, Amy...just once...finish just one of those hot dirty little sentences...just there in your head where only I can hear you...* He kissed her lingeringly, temptingly.
She blushed, shook her head. He sighed.
*Okay. We'll save that for later, then, perhaps...*
Later?
He smiled wickedly, laid her back on the brightly-colored rug.
VIII.
She'd lost track of...everything. There was no place except this place. She had no purpose except to touch and be touched. There was no sound except the snapping of the fire and the noises of pleasure that they made together.
He had been gentle and he had been wild. He had touched her as if she were made of glass at times and at others he'd handled her as if she were a flexible metal that he was in the process of forging, bending to a shape of his own devising. He had brought her to climax repeatedly, and each time, just as she had thought it was over, he had rekindled her to new and desperate need.
Now she sensed something different in him, something changing...
He kissed her, teased her until she was wild again, savage as he, clawing at him as he rose above her, and he took her hands, pinned them down, rolled her over so she lay face down against the thick carpet, and he brought his body down on top of her, holding her down. She writhed in abandon as he settled his weight against her, releasing her hands to push her hair away and kiss her neck. She felt him hard and ready against her derrière, and she pushed back against him, eager to have what he was offering. He ran ungentle hands down her, pushed her thighs wide, settled between them, slid himself over her slickly from behind, and she arched up in invitation at the feeling of him so close to where she wanted him.
With a growl, he slammed into her, seating himself as deep as he could go. She reared beneath him, and he pulled her up to her hands and knees. He held her hips, pounding into her, and she moved with him, her eyes sliding closed. He slipped a hand around to find the slick bud of her, began to stroke it, hard, fast, and she cried out, pinned between the twin pleasures of him buried inside and his wicked skillful fingers. The orgasm she felt building was somehow beyond all the others, and the thought shot through her addled mind that she wondered if anybody had ever died from too much good sex...
He kissed her neck, laughed against her skin, wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her up to rest against his chest, straddling his thighs, still rocking, his hand still plundering between her legs. She reached up behind her to wrap her arms around his neck for support in this position, eyes sliding closed. She felt the fingertips of the hand he'd used to haul her against him caress her face, slide up to stroke her temple, circling, and she moaned.
*No. Don't close those eyes, Pond. You're missing something exquisite. Look down.*
She whimpered. Can't. Too...too much... She felt his lips brushing over that spot on her neck.
*Open your eyes. Watch what I'm doing to you, watch how I'm doing you. How I'm touching you. The pleasure I take in pleasuring you. Look at my hands, Amy. Look down. Look now.* He brushed the thumb of the hand at her temple down her jaw.
She opened her eyes, looked down between her thighs at his busy fingers slick and glistening with her moisture, at their joined bodies, and she felt the orgasm hit her. As it did, she felt him open his mouth over her neck, felt him bite her hard, and it caused another spasm to wrack her, toss her higher still. Oh God, this is what I saw in his head, what I saw in his fantasy... She felt his body tense as he wrapped one arm around her, holding her tight to him, hand still at her temple, mouth still marking her as his own, his hips hitching hard as he finally shattered.