AN: So, I'm assuming that if you're still reading this story, you are aware that there are more of the older teen age range scenes coming...if not, now you do and that was my warning. XP
I was nice and kept it all in one chapter.
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His apartment was pretty normal, which surprised her for some bizarre reason.
It had a couch, a coffee table, tv, a small dining table and three chairs, the fourth one being over by the desk in the corner near the living area with the small bookshelf.
They sat at the table with their salmon dinners.
Instead of being across from her, he sat in the chair diagonal to her. They shared some light conversation as they ate, though their hands strayed to touch an arm or bump into each other for some contact. He found her shared desire for touch an indicator that he was not misreading her signals. Though, he decided to get a better feel of their situation before he jumped to any conclusions.
Just in case…
"So before coming here, did you always live in France?"
"No," he said, his fingers lightly trailing up her bare arm, "I moved from place to place once my reputation grew."
Her red lashes fluttered a little at the sensation. "It must have been exciting."
His fingers paused along her shoulder. "At times, yes. Otherwise, it was a bit tiring after the initial novelty of traveling throughout the continent." He noted that she had finished most of her meal. "Would you like dessert now?"
She pushed her plate aside so she could put her forearms on the table. "I'd rather wait a little."
He hmmed, gently stretching her arm towards him. "What about you? Was Japan the only country you lived in before now?"
"Y-Yes," she stammered a little as his fingers ran up and down the soft underside of her arm, "But I had traveled to America once before when I was very young. I had seen Alice in Wonderland at the Kaleido Stage and became obsessed with the stage ever since."
He faintly recalled her saying something to him about the kids in the audience being vital to the stage. Perhaps this is what she meant. If she had not seen that show, she wouldn't have left Japan to live here, meaning he would not have met her. He might have come to this stage regardless, but without Sora around.
The idea sounded so bleak.
"It's strange," he idly murmured, "how fleeting moments heavily impact life."
She couldn't ponder on his musing for too long what with the little thrills running up her arm from the motions of his fingers.
IN
The lights had been lowered and they took their dessert to the living room.
Sora was halfway through her tiramisu when she had to stifle a giggle when Leon had a smidgen of the dessert on his face.
"You got some on you."
She lifted her napkin up to get it when, with a small grin on his face, Leon brought his face to hers and proceeded to rub the chocolate and creamy substance onto her cheek. She let out a sound of surprise at the playful action.
When he released her, she grinned and with a quick swipe of her finger, she gathered more of the sweet and smeared it on his face.
His eyes widened a little at the action, but he was not slow in retaliating.
He swooped down on her, eliciting a happy shriek from his more than willing victim. She laughed as he rubbed his face against hers again, not minding that he had her pinned against the couch cushions. When his face came up a little, the playful glint in his eyes made her warm. She leaned up and licked some of the cream from his cheek.
"You missed the rest," he lowly rumbled out.
"You missed all of it," she playfully quipped, offering her cheek to him.
His tongue came out in a slow swipe. "How careless of me."
She placed her arms over his shoulders, enjoying the warm, wet feeling of him cleaning her off. After a few seconds more, she was no longer content to be still and so she turned her head and darted her tongue out in quick little swipes to get the cream on his face.
Inevitably, their mouths crossed one another, and they paused in the cleaning for a kiss every so often. Even when the cream was gone, they continued to lick and suck each other's skin in places that were in no way touched with the dessert.
That sultry heat, that delicious tension that had been forming between them fell upon them with a new force.
She caught his mouth in a kiss and he deepened it immediately, needing her kiss like a man needed water to drink or air in his lungs. He pressed her against the cushion, trying to get the contact that his body longed for and the taste of her lips that he was so fond of.
She writhed beneath him, mewing and moaning at the desire she could practically taste in his mouth. She burned with it, wanting more of him with an intensity that nearly blinded her.
"Leon."
He groaned, loving the yearning that came out along with his name. Her hands cradled his face as his mouth went along her exposed neck and shoulder. She bit her bottom lips as another thrill shot through her body, licking awake her own desire, fueled by his.
"I want my lesson," she finally let out, her craving for the unknown getting the better of her.
His eyes came up to hers, burning and smothering with the desire to teach it to her.
IN
His bedroom was lit with the light of the moon outside.
He had pulled the curtains aside, wanting to see her face and the flitting emotions in her eyes.
Her dress was draped over the arm of a chair in his room, her black pumps on the carpet beneath the dress and her hair clip on the dresser. He had watched with relish as her hair came undone and some wild strands curved towards her cheeks.
His dress shirt and pants were somewhere on the floor, he had not cared where they fell.
On the bed, the moon highlighted his long hair against his dark sheets. His bare back muscles were defined with the light and shadow, where two petite hands were clenching his shoulder blades. Her nails dug into his skin, creating a little sting along with his pleasure.
His forehead rested along her breastbone, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart and hearing the halting breaths she took as her body adjusted to his intrusion.
His teeth had been tightly gritted as he allowed her some time. Gradually, the initial overwhelming haze cleared his mind somewhat as she adjusted and his jaw loosened from the gritting. Her breathing began to smooth out; he shifted a little to see if she was ok now.
A half whimper spilled from her lips.
He halted, thinking that it was from pain.
His head lifted from her chest to see her face. Just as he saw the rekindling pleasure in her lidded eyes, she lifted her hips a little, causing him to suddenly groan and drop his forehead onto hers.
Another whimper came out, the needy little sound grazing his ears as if her fingers had done the touching.
She felt the shiver that traveled down his back.
Her nails had released his flesh, but with the growing coil of tension in her lower stomach from the movements of his hips made her fingers dig back into his back, this time not because of the discomfort, but because of the sensual friction and her attempt to keep him close to her.
Her back suddenly arched, she mewled long and loud as the rhythm changed.
The soft plushness of her chest against his released a throaty sound of approval from him. His hands wrapped her legs around his waist and she clung onto him, her hips meeting his and following his pace in a new boldness that came after her initial hesitance from not knowing what to do.
He heatedly rumbled something out in French. She did not understand it, but she did hear her name somewhere in there and the following groan of pleasure from him made her skin tingle from the sound and the sudden state of hyper sensitivity that her nerves were in.
He looked at her face, taking in the way her red hair lit by the moonlight stood out against his midnight sheets. With a hunger for her lips, he kissed her and it didn't take him any convincing for her lips to open and let him plunder her mouth.
She let him for a while, reveling in the electric havoc he was continuing with his hips and the re-introduced heat of his tongue, but she was never one to be a passive participant, no matter how little knowledge or experience she had. Her tongue pressed back onto his and he heatedly added more pressure to his brush.
They moaned, encouraging the other for more contact, more friction, more heat, more-more-more…
His dream version of her had been stunning; the real one was even more glorious in her passion. Her preconceptions of this lesson didn't compare to the actuality of it.
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