CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Life on board was as awkward as that morning in the kitchen at the Hub had been, as they tried to fall back into a slightly hesitant but familiar domesticity with one another; but she had spent five years getting used to living with the other him, she wondered if it would take as long again?
Nothing however could fix her hesitancy around him, the distance she still felt she needed to keep between them... this man she didn't quite know and trust yet. So she pulled away when he went to touch her, scared of her own mind, her own body and of the alien feelings he ignited in her for this new face. Terrified of the morality she had already bent because of him. She had chosen him, but it seemed that decision was sitting dangerously inside of her, inciting open rebellion in her heart and mind. And so when he brushed his fingers over hers she pulled out of reach, when his eyes bore into hers with barely restrained desires she looked away, when his body heat next to hers made her skin prickle with want she moved. His confusion was evident as was the hurt, but she didn't know what else to do. Her body wanted him desperately, her heart was closely following it, but her head... that hadn't made up its damn mind yet what it wanted.
She had crawled into bed each night alone, blissfully and yet somehow achingly aware of his absence, more from her insistence than his aversion. He had of course feigned interest in fixing something in his beloved machine, his barely existent need to sleep a fine excuse to give her the time she needed. An excuse she appreciated and was surprised he would even think to offer.
Of course even that had to end, he always had been stubborn... so after almost a week of having the nights to herself he had appeared at the end of the bed watching her curiously as she lay there; she'd startled sitting up and pulling the covers with her to stare at him. It had been five days, days in which he hadn't set the TARDIS down anywhere, just drifted, tinkering, reading, getting used to one another's presence again in this setting, working the new face of the Old Girl into its same routines. Her trying to adjust to the idea that this was it now, even if before it had been apparent that she had rarely been compelled to return to Earth, it was the difference between not wanting to and not being able to that was stark and would likely weigh on her for some time. But he was trying, his acerbic tone had softened slightly, they bickered a little she supposed, testing the waters with each other, re-learning old limits, finding new ones, but always the tension, the undercurrent between them when she turned to find his eyes fixed intently on her, assessing... yearning.
"I'm tired." He told her without a hint of fatigue, eyeing the bed they had used to share.
The room had changed of course, gone were the mementos of his former Companions and gone were the red sheets, the only traces of Gallifrey that remained were the occasional gentle rush of a sound like wind through the red grasses and the scent of them that she could detect faintly as she drifted off. Instead it had been replaced by dark sheets, deep mahogany woods, a bed that required a step for her to hop up onto it and a heavy canopy overhead. Her things had a more prominent place in this room, it was much more... joined, a truly shared space. Which was odd considering he hadn't ventured into here with her since they'd come on board; respecting the space she had needed without being told, which was more impressive given as she had been blocking his gentle mental probes since stepping on board. But it did mean that he had quite possibly and quite intentionally stoked a fire inside of her, his gentle touches as they grazed one another in the corridors or over a shared meal, insistent, despite her own equal instance to avoid them.
She had kissed him only once since coming on board, once on the first night when it seemed she had drawn her invisible line in the sand between him and her body as she shut the bedroom door between them. And even then he had teased, his lips pulling away from hers too soon, the look in his eyes promising more, knowing it was more than she would accept. That of course had helped set her mind to her current resistance; she needed to be in control of this, of herself and her own desires, she wouldn't let him manipulate her body, especially as her heart was probably a lost cause, but her body she had decided she could at least keep out of his grip for a while longer.
But she loved him, as much as it pained her, she missed him, missed lying asleep in his arms, missed the touch of him, even if it was a new him. Her heart called to his, and apparently he had come.
She watched him intently from the bed the sheets still wrapped protectively around her, assessing; his cool demeanour betrayed by the heat in his stare. He wanted her badly enough to risk rejection after rejection, if nothing else his determination was impressive. "Oh, well I'm sure the TARDIS could conjure you a bed to sleep in, particularly for the hour or so you'll need... or there's always the hammock right beneath her console." Her tone was light, testing him.
He took a step closer his hands in his pockets, she wondered if that was to stop his fingers from fidgeting and betraying his agitation. "True enough, but this is the only bed with my wife in it." His voice was a low rumble that spoke to something primal in her and she clung to anger instead as her only defence.
"Your wife is still cross with you." She pointed out, but she was unable to resist her lips forming an almost smile at the tender faraway look he was giving the space beside her despite her words.
He stilled, tearing his eyes away from the space to focus on her, his gentle expression so different to the fierceness she was used to, it was almost disarming. "Perhaps my beautiful wife could find it in her generous heart to forgive a man that has spent the better part of a thousand years, longing for nothing more than the simple warmth of her in the bed beside him."
Clara felt her heart falter at the pain she saw reflected in those pale blue eyes of his, the longing becoming a desperate thing that she could almost touch. A thousand years, alone. It had been a little over a week, mere days since she had seen in him on Trenzalore from her persective, since she had made love to a very different man; but they hadn't actually shared a bed, fallen asleep wrapped in one another's arms. A thousand years. All of a sudden the days she had spent on board denying him seemed almost achingly cruel. Her hand went to her heart almost unbidden as he dropped her gaze, clearly it chafed his pride to admit to her how badly he needed this, needed her. Even barely remembering her he had known enough to know he'd wanted her, wanted to sate a thousand years of longing.
"Have I been cruel?" she asked quietly. "A thousand years... you know that I can't imagine it, I can't even imagine a decade... a year." Again the gaping chasm of what they were was between them, an ageless Lord of Time and a human woman; it was a ridiculous notion.
"Love is cruel." He replied evenly, looking up at her once more, "But I daresay I have deserved a little of it."
"You almost broke my planet." She reminded him 'and forced me to fix it with my friends at gunpoint' she added to herself. He didn't need the reminder of that, and she didn't need to make it anymore real, not if she was going to move past it.
"Ok, perhaps more than a little." He conceded taking another step closer to the bed, his long strong fingers sliding out of his pockets to trace along the sheet at the bottom of the bed, careful to avoid touching her.
"You're an impossible man." Clara admitted with a degree of fondness she found she couldn't help, as her eyes lingered on his fingers as they danced across the sheets; he had always been something of a child, something she felt the urge to protect even whilst she wanted to slap him soundly for being such an idiot at times.
He lifted an index finger to trace across his lips drawing her gaze quite deliberately it seemed, it would have seemed harmless enough a gesture if eyes hadn't been dancing with the clear prospect of her crumbling resistance. "Fitting then given my choice of impossible wife."
Clara sucked in a breath her eyes on the curve of his lips as he all but beckoned; but she was aware that once more she was losing control of this situation, dancing to his tune, letting him manipulate the situation expertly as always. She couldn't let that happen, not now, not with him, if he was getting into this bed it was going to be on her terms and if and when she decided on it; because she might have wanted him, missed him, but it was clearly nothing compared to his own needs and desires. She had the power here; she just needed to take it.
Clara loosened her grip and let the cover fall away, revealing the slip of red satin nightgown she'd chosen, or rather had found in the closet almost expectantly. Her heart hammering and her breathing shallow as she lowered a sultry look at him she crooked her finger to him, indicating the side of the bed. "Come here." She gave him a coy smile which belied her sudden nervousness as he seemed to stare back heatedly at her, those eyes promising again, reminding her all too readily of the one time she had felt just what he could deliver now if he set his mind to it.
But now that she had acquiesced it seemed he was in no hurry, clearly enjoying her rapt attention refusing to dance to her tune as he shrugged out of his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he stepped closer to the bed, which was a much more appropriate height for him now she noted. His fingers ran along the edge of his belt, almost tauntingly as he slowly undid the catch, the sound of the metal and leather as it slid through his fingers to fall heavily on the floor made her heart thump faster. It was ridiculous, he was her husband, technically they had slept together hundreds of times... he absolutely shouldn't make her feel like a teenager in front of her first crush.
"Are you trying to seduce me?" she murmured coolly, aware her eyes were growing hooded as he loomed over the end of the bed, his hand went to his zipper, his open shirt only giving her a glance of the flesh she'd yet to run her hands along like this. God she wanted to succumb, to pull him to her by that belt, crawl along the bed on hands and knees and give herself over to him, but she sat resolutely, staring apparently unaffected back at him.
His blue eyes sparked as they held hers clearly not buying it, "Should a husband not attempt to seduce his wife?" his expression whilst not coy was certainly guarded and she realised with a start that he was as hesitant as she was. Apart from their one all too rushed coupling where he had barely known who she was much less who he was, they had never shared anything more than heated kisses. This was new to them both.
His hands went to his waistband and she jerked into alertness, she had to wrench control of this situation out of his hands or it would set the tone of their whole relationship in ways she wasn't certain she could let happen... not with this him.
"Let me." She breathed, shifting so that her bare legs hung over the side of the overlarge bed, letting her smile dimple in a way she knew had affected his previous self and hoping the same was still true of this one, blinking long lashes across her softening doe eyes. Beckoning him in.
He approached her smoothly her most seductive 'come to bed' eyes clearly working even if he gave nothing else away as he came to stand between her legs as she inched forward; at this height she couldn't help but notice his hips were almost in line with hers. He inched closer until his bare chest was in touching distance and she could feel the heat emanating from him. A little hesitantly now that he was before her, she let her hands rise to his exposed skin and the smooth stomach muscles underneath her touch tightened as she pressed her palm flat against him. Relief seemed to flood them both as he groaned against such a simple touch and she felt the nerves that had been bubbling over inside of her slip deeper overtaken by curiosity as her hand explored him.
He was stronger like this, she realised what she had already suspected as her finger traced the definition of the muscles, the sharp angles of his hip bones that protruded beneath his loosened trousers. There was a fine salt and pepper dusting of hair from his navel down beneath the waist band that she stroked gently, earning another soft groan from him. With a slight smile she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, as his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. Clara pressed a kiss to the faintly rough skin, before gently touching her tongue to it, eager anticipation driving away hesitancy.
His mouth parted and his eyebrows rose in surprise as she met his darkening gaze and drew his thumb into her mouth, letting her tongue run lightly over the digit, not breaking eye contact with him. This was not something she'd have done with his previous self... explore him like this, they had always been too impatient, or he had. Too caught up in the moment to savour it, but apparently a thousand years really had taught him patience... or something resembling it. Whatever it was she was grateful for it, relearning what it was he liked and what she liked, or could accept from him would take time.
But as his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of her mouth around his skin and the trace of her fingers up to the faint dusting of hair higher up his chest, curling them around it and tugging lightly enough to make him moan again, she realised it wouldn't be that difficult to figure out.
She let his thumb slip out of her mouth, his eyes shot open with irritation and she ignored him, leaning forward and pushing aside his shirt to press a kiss to his chest, taking what she wanted instead. Her hands drifted around his waist, her fingers against his lower back as she traced upwards feeling the muscles of his back tense with the action. His own hands shifted and she sucked in a breath as he ran them through her hair drawing her closer, until she took a firm nipple in her mouth and sucked hard. He hissed and she pulled back.
"Not fond of that then." She sighed, tracing her thumb over the nipple instead which made his stomach muscles clench wonderfully.
"And here I had hoped for nothing more than to feel your warmth beside me as we slept." His voice held the awe and traces of amusement at what he clearly considered his own magnetism.
"Don't be smug, you might still not get the pleasure." She whispered biting hard against a nipple and causing him to let out a cry his back arching and pressing his chest closer to her tormenting touch despite his protest, but she pushed him back, removing her mouth and smiling coyly up at him, pushing his hands away as they rose to slide across her bare arms, attempting to push the slight straps of her nightdress down as he went.
"This is hardly fair my dear. My hands are itching to explore you just as thoroughly." he murmured all put pouting as he tried again to reach for her.
Clara stopped him with a hand to his chest. "You're the one who's brand new here remember. So sensitive." She whispered, reaching up and freeing him of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor around him in a puddle. He seemed speechless to argue with her, which was a first as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his still clothed hips, drawing him closer, but something calculating lit in those unfathomable eyes of his and his arms shot out, grasping her firmly as she felt a flicker of alarm when he moved quickly avoiding her hands and pulled her head back sharply by her hair, lifting her gaze to his; her lips parted with the surprised sound when his mouth found hers. But his hard stolen kiss softened under her mostly unresponsive lips and he pulled back reluctantly, his hands dropping away from her. Their eyes met, her sudden alarm and his quick aggression lying bare between them as they both paused, dancing on the precipice. A battle of wills and a struggle for dominance; this has always been his domain when it came to sex, she might have had control over everything else but never this. His eyes flickered to her face, to her lips pressed firmly closed as his hand fisting her hair loosened and he let it brush delicately through his fingers, a deep sigh reverberating through him as he dropped her gaze, his head bowing for a fraction.
"As you wish my love." He rasped surrendering it seemed to her touch as he let his hands drop to his sides, the tension bleeding out of him as he gave her the one thing she needed. Control.
Clara hesitated only a moment, taking a steadying breath as she uncurled her legs from around his hips, drawing them underneath her as she knelt up on the bed brushing along his chest as she went and rescuing the straps on her nightgown and so her modesty that he had almost claimed.
"Please." He whispered, his voice breaking softly over the plea and she cocked her head, observing him, his features softening as he raised his head to hers. The lines seemed to recede and his hair shone in the faint light, the sight almost mesmerising her.
"Please what?" she asked leaning in close to his neck and pressing a tentative kiss to the pulse point, feeling the way it hammered beneath her.
"Let it fall." He asked, and she could hear the strain in his voice, feel the tension coiling in him again as she traced her hands along his biceps, down to his wrists, knowing now just how he longed to touch her. Pulling back she reached up fingering the delicate straps of her nightgown teasingly, the flicker of his mind letting her see what he wanted, what he needed as if she didn't already know.
"If I can't touch, at least let me look." He pleaded again and she felt the press of the years he'd spent apart once again between them, the restraint he was showing because she had demanded it. "A thousand years..." he all but choked, and she could feel the strangled sound travel all the way across her skin and dip down between her legs.
Clara left the straps where they were, her hand instead drifting down between the valley of her breasts, teasing as much as he had her not so long ago from the end of the bed, staring up at him from her knelt position, supplicant and yet dominant. "What would you look at Doctor?" she sighed, lifting both hands and gently cupping her own breasts through the satin material, her eyes not leaving his, watching the way his hands seemed to mimic the action at his sides, as his gaze drifted to them. "Do you want to compare me to your paintings... to see if the image you hold in here was good enough?" She lifted one hand away and raised it to brush lightly across his forehead.
He laughed darkly in self depreciation. "Those clumsy hands of his could barely hold a brush, he recreated a poor copy indeed. But even his useless memory couldn't forget a delectable inch of you." His Scottish burr ran through her skin as he rasped the words straight into her ear and they ran like lightening to her centre which seemed to quiver expectantly. "Do you know what it's like to see the image of you clear as day in your mind and know you can never reach out and touch it. Torment... night after night, moment after moment."
"My poor husband," she murmured, letting her hand drift to his cheek, "No wonder you took to whittling." She deliberately leant in letting her covered almost painfully hard nipples brush his chest through the silk and she watched in fascination as his eyes fluttered shut, his lips pressed into a thin line. Perhaps she really was cruel she conceded... or just more angry than she'd admitted.
He drew in a shaky breath and she watched his hands lift for a fraction before he quite deliberately fisted them and lowered them to his sides once more. "If you must tease me love, then please," he opened his eyes onto her searing her with the raw emotion them, "please give me this."
Clara felt her resistance crumble at that look, at the desperate man she was driving to near madness with barely a brush of her skin against his; her eyes remained fixed on his. "Since you asked so nicely." She breathed slowly raising her hands to the straps, flicking her hair behind her bare shoulders and sliding the straps down her arms, letting the nightdress fall to a pool of satin around her and exposing her to his hungry gaze. It seemed improbable that a man she had shared a bed with for the better part of four years could look at her like that. Like she was something to be devoured and yet treasured at the same time. A thousand years indeed.
"So beautiful." He hummed, his lips parting as he took in long deep breaths, those clever eyes of his scanning every inch of her with unconcealed desire that lifted the hairs on her arms and caused wetness to pool between her legs. It was a heady feeling, just as it had always been, but somehow more so now, to see this older, unfathomably darker version of this man reduced to the same state as the irrepressible man-child had been at just the mere sight of her.
Perhaps she smirked, but he clearly knew where her mind was at. "Narcissist." He rasped, tauntingly at her.
Clara smirked. "Egomaniac." She taunted right back.
"You say that like it's a bad thing." He snapped leaning forward and putting his body within brushing distance of hers, impatient it seemed for her promised touch.
The flare of aggression again from him was jarring, as she knelt naked and exposed before him, a flash of defiance she had to root out. "Do you love me still Doctor?" She lifted her fingers the imperceptible distance between them and traced the outline of his hearts, before lowering her mouth and doing the same with her lips. "A thousand years of war since our wedding vows... and still not a flicker of doubt?" she gazed up at him, more cautious now as she probed the question she would never have needed to ask his predecessor, the one he was compelling her to ask.
He let out a sound close to a howl of agony and she felt his fingers slide around her throat tightly as he drew her head back, lowering his own until their lips brushed and she glared up at him, refusing to bend to be cowed by him. "Are you trying to push me into breaking my promise?" he hissed, "Because I will ravish you on this bed here and now and I will not show even a sliver of restraint, if you continue to be so cruel."
Clara felt his fingers tighten and she felt the air in her lungs grow short as she stared up into his wide furious and terrified eyes. Seeing for the first time beyond the mask to the frightened broken man who had emerged from Trenzalore's horrors and not backing down at his bark, despite her fallible human instincts telling her to do just that.
"Tell me." She demanded, past his grasp, lifting her fingers to his lips and tracing the fine bow of his thinner lips, showing him that strength wasn't always harsh and that despite his hold... this situation was still very much hers.
His expression wavered the anger giving way, "Not a flicker." He bit out, and his grasp loosened a fraction, his fingers tracing down her throat more delicately. "Never." The word seemed to break on his lips.
Clara felt tears prick her eyes, as she strained to meet his lips. "Say it, say the words." She insisted, not even sure why she needed to hear them herself, but she did, needed to see him say it, to let it settle over her from this version.
"I love you." He told her his lips pressed against her cheek. "I love you." He repeated in Gallifreyan and she felt the smile split her lips. "Impossibly so." He added quietly and she turned her head catching his mouth with hers, kissing him with quiet intensity.
"Thank you." She whispered as they shared a breath before she pushed him away and back upright, noticing the thundering sound of his hearts within her mind and the heat radiating from him now.
"Is that all you have to say?" he growled, trying and failing not to make her aware of his own need to hear the same words fall from her lips.
"I gave up my world for you." She reminded him, "Do you need more?" she half teased.
"Yes." He bit out, seemingly angry with the notion as she let her fingers trace the outline of his waistband again, her hand brushing lightly against the tented material and recalling the wondrous way he'd fit within her, purpose built this time around.
She didn't meet his eyes, feeling the blazing heat of his gaze, the insistence in her mind that she answer before she blocked it out. "How about I show you?" She worried her bottom lip as she lowered the zipper, hesitant for a moment as she searched for strength to give him this, to give herself this, to accept him once more as her husband, as her lover. Her hands grasped either side of the material and without further thought to raise her many doubts she shoved them down swiftly over his hips until they hit his ankles. His boxers were protesting just as wonderfully she noted; her attention fixed as she reached out and brushed him through the material, sinking down lower on her knees on the bed to give her a better position.
His hands tightened to fists once more at his sides and she glanced up at him, unsurprised to find his eyes open on her. "Put them behind your back." She told him and he quirked an eyebrow at her in surprise, but did as she requested.
Clara hesitated, this had always been his territory, his need to dominate, but that was the old him, this him was already so dominant in everything else, she wanted this, wanted to take the power from him, even if it was only like this. This was what she needed; for the barest of moments she let that need breach her mental walls, let him feel it if he chose to listen.
Sliding from the bed and reaching the floor she brushed across his stomach with her fingers, tracing around him and letting a nail dance along his spine as she noted the way his hands were clasped together tightly above his boxers. Clara stepped up close behind him, so that he could feel the heat of her skin, the faintest brush of her hair without giving him the contact she knew he wanted and reached around his slim waist, her fingers sliding into the waistband of his boxers and sliding them smoothly down his legs until they joined his trousers in a pile about his ankles. He shifted as if to kick them free and she stilled his legs with a touch to his smooth thighs. "No. Leave them." She whispered, pressing a kiss to his spine which made him shiver as she let her right hand trace slowly up from his thigh to grasp a small firm cheek exploring. He gasped and she smirked, releasing the flesh.
She stalked away from him, feeling his eyes boring into her back as she moved around to the front of the bed and retrieved the leather belt he'd let fall there, she glanced up at him as she turned letting him see the item in her hands. His eyes widened a fraction and she locked her mind away firmly, let him wonder at her intent, as she slowly stalked back towards him; letting the leather run through her hands, and for the first time his gaze fell from her to the offending item.
Clara slipped behind him again and he tensed a fraction as she stroked the curve of the leather across the back of his legs.
"Do you intend to spank me with that my dear?" he chuckled lightly, but the hitch to his breath belied the way he felt about that and she filed it away for later with a smirk. This was so far beyond territory she had ever broached with the last him that it truly felt brand new and more than a little exhilarating for it. Her heartbeat was hammering in her chest and she was almost hyperaware of his skin inches from her own, of the feel of the leather. But from the way she could hear his own heartbeat speeding up, the way his body seemed to arch towards her fleeting touch she knew he was every bit as thrilled by this new side of her. The inexplicable urge to make him gasp rose, to inflict even a sliver of the torment he seemed capable of putting her body through; to make him pay for dying... for changing.
"You do deserve it." She admitted, toying with him, as she brushed the leather over his other ass cheek. "You have been an insufferable git remember." She reminded him taking a handful of his ass and squeezing hard enough to leave the slight indent of her fingernails against the firm smooth skin. "You did forget me... and the TARDIS." She added, running the cool metal buckle up his spine. "Fucked a near complete stranger on the centre console. I could have been anyone." She accused, letting the palm of her hand connect solidly with his ass and drawing a sound from him she'd never heard before in her life that went straight to her already wet centre. The sensation seemed to ignite between the both of them in startled pleasure, that she had done it, that he clearly enjoyed it. She watched the shudder rippled all along his back muscles, the way his ass clenched tightly in anticipation of another.
"Not just anyone." He bit out, his voice sounding strangled and she didn't need to wonder if he was as aroused as she was by this unexpected turn of events.
"Scared me half to death when you collapsed..." she hissed slapping the other cheek with her palm again, which was stinging slightly from the contact, but she couldn't stop, not when it was making them both quiver. "And again when you rasped those awful truths in my ear in the bowls of this very ship." She added with another crack and her palm stung all the more. "Then there was the kitchen." Another crack of her palm and his cheeks were starting to redden. "When you threatened my world, had them point guns at me... and throw me in a cell." Ok so she had gone there again, and her palm stung all the more so that she slipped the belt into it instead. He tensed as if sensing her intent. "Dying on me!" she cried out, unable to keep the pain in that sentence out of her voice as she delivered the belt to crack across his tender flesh this time which had him shouting out her name and she closed her eyes at the yearning he managed to put into it. But she darted back from him suddenly alert as he spun on her, his eyes were wide and as near to snarling as she imagined eyes could be but his chest was heaving, his colour more flushed than she had ever seen it.
"I may break my promise." He growled out in warning when he had taken a steadying breath and she quirked an eyebrow down to his hands which had migrated to fists at his side with his clear struggle to hold them there. Her eyes dropped to his erection which was unrestrained now and looked almost as fierce as the rest of him, the veins on it all but pulsing. She never had got to examine that particular part of his anatomy last time, just felt it's clear differences to the one she remembered so well. She wasn't disappointed now.
"So I see age comes with its perks?" she smirked at him, lifting her finger to her mouth and biting down on it in the way she knew had tormented his previous self, even if she wasn't naked.
"Clara." He all but hissed, taking a warning step towards her, his hands still fisted, but clearly the intention to grab her clear on his face.
"My rules." She whispered, stepping back from him coyly, letting her free hand trace the length of her body in the way she knew he longed to.
"I can't..." he pleaded and she laughed with near delight at the obvious strain as his cock twitched almost at his command.
"Let me help with that." She made a promise of her own as she stepped closer, "Turn around, face the bed." She instructed. "I never gave you permission to move." She warned him herself. His eyebrow rose in that inscrutable way of his and his jaw twitched as he deliberately shut his mouth but he slowly, his every fibre seeming to resist the idea, turned back around and faced the bed, his head stubbornly up glaring into the room beyond. Clara approached him slowly, making him wait as she slid her hands gently to his wrists, enjoying the way he almost flinched at the sudden contact, as she drew them back to the centre of his back. "Hold them." She added quietly, not needing to ask twice as his hands grasped each other tightly at her urging.
Retreiving the belt from where she had dropped it in her startled haste to put distance between them, she let it slip through her fingers smoothly before lacing it around his wrists, sliding it in and out, over and under, pulling it taught and seeing his shoulders tense with the strain as she forced them together until she could lock the buckle. Clara tried not to think too hard on the implications of what she was doing... of daring to restrain the last Time-Lord; of binding her husband. Instead she just admired the view of it, the slow burning desire it let loose inside of her as she stroked across the leather. Clara gave it an experimental tug, arching his back slightly but it seemed to hold. The power she felt seeing him straining was simply exquisite, it felt like she had finally taken a modicum of control back, even if it was perhaps an illusion; but it was something he had finally recognised she needed and didn't contest her on as he had everything else. Hers.
Of course he had to try and ruin the moment she acknowledged as he let out a puff of exasperated air, "Shall I add sadist to narcissist?" perhaps he'd intended his voice to be light but by the time he was done with the words they were little more than a low growl as his head turned back to see her, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.
"Only if we can add masochist to yours." She threatened and he shut his mouth, not taking his eyes from her though she noted. Good boy.
"So you have me trussed up like a prized bull. Now what my wicked wife?" he pressed and she hesitated fractionally, the word wife from him still jarred and she wondered if it would ever feel right, much like his declaration of love had the first time, she hoped it would simply take time before she could even want it to sink in.
She stalked around to the front of him, reaching up to press a finger to his lips. "Not a word." She ordered and he stilled, silence never had been something he did especially well, his eyebrow quirk seemed to ask if she was serious. Her other hand trailed down his front slowly and she grasped his erection firmly, keeping her finger pressed to his lips insistently. The sensation of it, the hard silkiness of the flesh in her palm made them both gasp and he rocked slightly on his toes, like this she wondered if she could lead him anywhere. But then she was equally magnetised as she bit down hard on her own lip in an attempt to stop herself from merely pulling him into her already soaked centre.
"Silence is golden Doctor remember, you remained silent for a thousand years... I'm sure you can manage the next few minutes." His expression was molten as she ran her thumb over the head of his slightly weeping cock. In part because she wanted to and in part because she wasn't so sure he could obey her simple instruction she pushed her finger past his firm lips and into his mouth. She closed her eyes briefly delighting in the feel of his tongue as he ran it along her digit, until his teeth clamped down lightly, trapping her as he sucked hard.
Clara looked away fascinated to see him again as his hips thrust lightly into her hand, telling her what he needed even if he couldn't speak. He was wider she noted with satisfaction feeling the unfamiliar distance to her fingers as she gripped him, but she had felt that the first time he'd thrust into her; a different shape and colour now, but if there was a difference in length she couldn't tell. But it was the same smooth firmness as her hand lowered to his balls as she slipped another finger into his mouth letting his clever tongue twin around them as she slowly slid them in and out of his mouth, matching the rhythmic way she took a handful of his balls. They tightened deliciously in her grip and his erection seemed to strain towards her, the veins pulsing along it again. She slid her fingers from his mouth and traced the wet digits along the length of him taking him with that hand and applying pressure as she stroked him. His head fell back and she laughed as he tried to plant his feet more firmly, only to remain trapped by his ankles still within his discarded trousers.
Clara left him like that, her hand still gripping him firmly as she slid around behind him, reaching around his waist to maintain her hold as she pressed her naked breasts against the curve of his spine, her stomach against his ass, ignoring the escape of air from him like a hiss, it wasn't after all a vocalisation. Like this their height difference was so apparent to her and it only turned her on more as she slid her free hand down his ass cheeks and dipped between his legs until she was cupping his balls once more.
"Don't come." She insisted and she felt him twitch in her fingers, perhaps for a human man it was cruel, but he had his vaunted Time-Lord control, she'd damn well make him exercise it. She stepped in between his legs, nudging them as far apart with her own as she could as she stroked and caressed him slowly, learning what made his breath hitch and what made his cock pulse with pressure as he struggled against the obvious conclusion. Her mouth traced gentle kisses down across his spine, taking in the taste and texture of this new skin until she couldn't resist it and let her teeth bite down at the sensitive skin at the bottom of his spine. He didn't make a sound and but she watched fascinated as his hands pulled hard against the leather at his wrists, testing the limit of the stitching. His legs trembled and his cock pulsed beneath and she stilled her movements, sensing the warning sign as clearly as he did as she withdrew her hand, her lips pressing a final trail of kisses to his back as the first traces of moisture began to gleam across his skin with the effort.
Clara slid back around to the front of him, eyeing him darkly as she hopped back up onto the bed, sitting on the edge, naked and not feeling in the slightest bit exposed. Perhaps she was as wicked as he claimed because new, dirty thoughts heated her skin as she stared at the straining man in front of her. She wondered if she would have been too embarrassed, to hesitant to do this with the other him, to pliant and willing to let his bumbling side sink beneath so that he could be the dominant one in that moment, so he could give her what she needed. But this him was constantly pushing her boundaries, forcing her to settle around a new morality, he never gave her an inch so she had decided to simply take a mile. It was exciting and maddening all at once. She bit down hard on her lower lip tasting blood and looked him dead in the eye as she parted her legs, he held her gaze for an admirably long time before he drank in the sight of her. He made as if to move forwards and she held a hand out to his chest warningly, but he at least kept his silence.
"Not yet." She taunted, knowing what this restraint was doing to him as she felt the frustration of his mind push sharply against her mental barriers. "You wanted to look remember." She lowered her hand between her legs, keeping her other on his chest and feeling the way his muscles tightened in response to the path of her fingers as she brushed her own sex with them. She watched his face as he watched her hand, her fingers gently brushing her clit in a way that no matter how much she tried would ever be as satisfying as his touch... even if all she had to go on was the single memory of his clever fingers. Not that they had ever been clumsy when it mattered, but they were more tapered now, dextrous and strong in ways that had left her keening. She slipped her own finger inside herself and he let out a strangled sound that drowned out her soft moan; his mouth parting as his chest seemed to heave, but his lips remained pressed firmly shut together as if his life depended on it.
"I'm in control." She reminded him needlessly, panting a little as she trusted him not to move as she dropped her hand from his stomach, her legs winding around his hips and pulling him closer with them, bringing him within thrusting distance if he chose of her heat, pushing him one last time. "Your mine." She bit out in warning, her eyes on his as her now free hand joined the other as she set about tormenting herself. It was the most wanton thing she had ever done, never in her wildest dreams had she considered doing this, husband or not with his last self. He'd never have had the self control for one, never have surrendered control to her when it came to sex. For all his softer nature, he had never been especially gentle with her in bed. She wasn't sure she trusted this version of him enough to let him be that way with her again. Not yet.
His cock was weeping slowly mere inches from her she realised as it brushed her inner thigh every now and again with her movements and her own breathing hitched at the thought. It caused her to circle faster, sliding her finger in and out and focusing on the way it would feel if it was him, every now and again she let her hand snake free to grasp him, her slick fingers coating him, just enough to torment, before she returned to her task, her chest rising and falling heavily in time with his as he watched her enraptured until she finally came quietly against herself.
Her eyes shut for a second and the sound of him falling to his knees with a thump startled them open, her legs still wrapped firmly around him sliding until they were practically around his chest. She watched the way a bead of sweat wound its way from his neck down that same chest and she leant forward, their heads almost in line now as she latched onto it, sucking the moisture into her mouth and tasting the saltiness of it with a soft sound of contentment. She could feel his pleas in her mind as her barriers weakened with the aftershocks of her own pleasure. His eyes were on her fingers and she felt the flutter of arousal at the thought that he was so desperate to taste and touch her, that he would want that. With a hesitance he didn't appreciate she held the fingers that had been inside of her in front of his lips. He craned his head, straining his neck until he could take them into his hungry mouth. Clara closed her eyes at the way he devoured the lingering taste of her there, the look of ecstasy on his face had her pulse thrumming again. Arousing her in ways she had simply never felt before.
"Oh God." She moaned and she pulled her fingers out of his grasp, his bereft look replaced with one of delight as she lifted her legs fractionally until they were over his shoulders, leaning back on her elbows and urging him closer still as he shuffled on his knees until his chest was pressed against the side of the bed.
"Did you imagine this Doctor, on those long cold nights... did you remember how warm I was here." She brushed her aching centre with her fingers once more, gleefully tormenting him.
If looks could kill she wondered if she'd be six feet under, she smiled darkly back at him. "Go on then." She pushed her hips towards him as eager for him there as he was.
He didn't need further encouragement finally free to touch her, even if it wasn't with his hands and she let out a cry as his mouth closed around her already sensitised clit. "Doctor!" she cried out clutching the sheets beside her as he tormented her with every flick of his tongue and touch of his teeth, his tongue slid into her and she arched her hips beneath him as he proved to her that her hands could never substitute for this. She might have the illusion of control but it shattered now as he drew an orgasm from her that had her screaming and clutching at his head desperately, pushing him deeper utterly certain that had he demanded her to stop in that moment, to hold back her own release, she couldn't have. She was putty in his mouth, let alone his hands which remained firmly bound behind him. Control she realised, like most things, was probably an illusion, but it was certainly fun.
As she lay there panting his lips travelled across her inner thighs, biting gently, tracing his tongue all the way up to her naval taking liberties with his new found freedom it seemed, until she was inching closer to him, her legs finding new purchase and wrapping around his torso as she merely tried to remember how to breathe again.
"Did you come?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes onto his hooded ones, seeing the strain on his face and getting her answer. She smiled wolfishly at him and slid back away from him, patting the sheets. "On the bed Doctor." She insisted and watched as he forced himself to his feet gracefully, his trousers long since kicked away from his feet and no longer restricting his movement as he stalked to the bed and hopped up onto it, rolling onto his back and pinning his own hands beneath him as he straightened his long lithe legs out with a grimace that was likely due to the painful looking erection he was sporting. Clara couldn't help but admire him as she crept on her knees along the length of him, stroking her hands from the arch of his feet along his calves and up to his thighs. The look on his face told her not to test him much further and she mostly ignored it as she threw a leg over him, straddling him firmly and brushing her sex against his.
"Could you do this without a sound too husband?" she tried the word out, her hands trailing across his chest as she shifted her hips up a fraction until the head of his desperately weeping cock brushed her clit.
He let out a strangled breath his eyes pressed firmly shut. "My name," she whispered and he opened his eyes onto her. "That's all you can say, the only sound you can make, and if you move, if you so much as buck your hips..." She warned and he fought not to arch, his stomach muscles straining as she slid further down over him, trying to keep to yet another of her demands.
"CLARA!" he let out the strangled cry as she slid down taking him fully into her and then stilled, the sensation of it almost too much for her, let alone for him.
"Clara, Clara, Clara." He whispered her name like a desperate litany and she heard the plea in it clearly, her eyes were on his as she moved, lifting her hips off his to let him slide along her quivering walls deliciously. He was taut beneath her and she rocked her hips as she moved, letting her clit brush against his pelvis and draw out the friction she craved. There was no doubt in her mind now as she thrust against him, that he knew who she was this time... knew what it meant that she was giving herself to him like this and taking this from him.
"I love you." She promised him finally answering his needless question as she pressed a kiss to his lips as she felt herself pulse around him, leaving her breathless, "you can come." She pressed the words against his temple and she squeezed her eyes shut as he did just that, the flood of him into her thoughts that she couldn't shut out like a crashing wave and she screamed at the onslaught. Clutching onto his shoulders and feeling her body collapse against him as she tried to hold onto some semblance of self as his pleasure raced along her every pitiful human neurone she possessed; alighting areas of her brain that simply weren't equipped to feel it. Until she was left trembling and sobbing against him in exquisite agony as he filled her with pulse after pulse of his seed, a thousand pent up years worth.
She lay quivering atop him, feeling the trembling of his own limbs beneath her and the twitching of his cock buried deep within her with satisfaction. His hands came around her back and held her tightly to him, she glanced at the remnants of the broken leather belt on the bed beside him, as his fingers traced through her hair.
"My Clara." He sighed and she let him roll them, until she was curled up beside him, his hands soothing her skin with his touch as he slid gently from her.
"Was there a doubt?" she sighed back, letting her hand curl around his chest possessively, feeling the wild thuds of his hearts beating as they struggled to calm. He didn't answer and she didn't press, closing her eyes content to let this be the bridge between them; for this moment to be theirs for as long as it could last.