[ haste and rising excitement render her movements sloppier, inelegant; she's slowly ascending towards that peak, sensations stacking on top of each other to get her there, higher and higher, and she can't swallow back her moans anymore, can't refrain from delivering those sounds in between their messy kissing.
she's about to shatter, to give herself over to him one piece at a time until he's got all of her in his hands, and she can only hope he'll be able to maintain a grasp on those fragments until she can forge herself back into that whole. the truth is that she trusts him to, has trusted him since maybe longer than she's even realized, and if there's anyone here she doesn't mind breaking open for it's the one who's holding her now.
there's nothing but silence, peace and the sounds of their breathing, bodies moving in imperfectly perfect rhythm, right up until the moment that she rocks down onto him just at the right angle and sways, goes rigid over him for the span of a couple seconds and finally, blissfully comes with a long shudder and a soft sob. her cheek nudges along his temple while her hips carry her through those lasting waves, eyes closed and heart primed to bursting. ]
[ almost as much as the rocking motions affect the incline towards his release, the sounds she echoes so closely to his lips does something to him as well. because theyβre unfiltered, raw and sincere, all of herself remaining there so exposed for him to swallow whole, to catch in his mouth and hands and securely it all safely within his hold.
somehow he should have known this was inevitable; they move together and it all makes sense, having her like this, rolling their hips in a parallel pace that feels like they know each other beyond the physicality of it all. and perhaps they do. because even if heβs stripped bare of his clothes now, heβs been heavily exposed in front of her eyes for an extension of weeks, maybe even months. even if it all hasnβt been explained, many details left covered and distant, sheβs picked apart enough for him to still feel like himself in her presence, at ease and unguarded.
and there are no guards here, his own noises rising in the front of steady grunts, rising from his throat every time she presses against him hard, relentless and fast-paced, the consistency of their stroking connection dragging him closer to that edge.
when she gets there, he doesnβt stop but he does hold her tighter, arms bracing around her back until his fingertips are gripping hard into her sides; they wonβt bruise the skin but she might feel the lasting imprints of him there, there and just about everywhere else, parts of him given to her in the same way that she offers herself. steadying her as her body tenses in his arms, he tries to tilt to kiss at her jaw, tender sweet peppering presses to soothe her through it, but itβs rendered difficult when he starts to feel the staggering motions of his own bucking hips. soon they tense, jolting up against her thighs, right until heβs pressed in deeply, a moment in which neither of them are separate from the other, and he wholeheartedly allows her to have him β or rather, sheβs already stolen him in pieces, and heβs been helpless in resisting, letting her claim him as she wants. ]
[ she considers the possibility that he may have shown her more than he planned, exposed more truths than he felt comfortable revealing to her at the start, but with everything that's been shared with her, right up until now, she feels like she has a more complete image of the person he is, the one she knows him to be after seeing that concern for others.
if you knew the kind of man i really am, the things i've done, you wouldn't be looking at me like this. he might still be convinced of that, but regardless of whatever he's done, she's seen what he does here, continues to do, and there isn't any mistaking that level of care. the worry he'd had for laura, even with wounds freshly inflicted, had struck her deeper than she'd ever thought was possible β to the point where now, especially, she lets in the little admission, secretly and to herself, that maybe it wasn't completely the pollen's influence after all that led her to seek his embrace, the warmth of his lips.
he holds her, while she tilts, cradles her close, not too firm or restrictive but giving her permission to unravel while he steadies her. and she turns her forehead against his cheek, as his hips power up into her for those last few thrusts, as he groans helplessly beneath her, sweat and salt and his own indefinable scent that she wants to bury her nose into and commit to its own new memory. her fingers run along the side of his face, his jaw, and she holds him too, as he finishes deep inside her, quietly whimpers through that flood of new warmth within.
even afterward, she doesn't try to withdraw from him yet, muscles lax and frame sagging into his, hoping that her weight won't be too much for him to bear now; she gives him her idly trembling body and a few kisses quietly drifted across his cheek, the side of his neck, eyes still closed until she finally sits back, blinks them open and finds his gaze with a small smile. ]
[ he forgets to breathe, the bulk of his release drawing on all corners of his energy as he clutches her a little tighter, clinging to her as the one of the only solid supports he's come to find in recent days. but she's already there, embracing him through it, the ease of her tender kisses roaming over that sweat damp hairs across his chin and flushed skin of his cheeks. he feels her everywhere at once, and he's not so quick to want to rid himself of those sensations, palms beginning to stroke soft at her back when his body beginning to settle from the intense climb.
he'd wondered if the regret and the realizations would strike him fast once those remnants of physical desire had been tended to. but even as they sink into those softer, breathless moments in the afterglow, the aching to be near her only intensifies further, craving those gentle nuzzles of lips and hands, closeness in small forms.
for someone who's always been so eager to go about things alone, frank has always been needy for soft touch like this, to be held and to hold in return, something to protect and cherish even in the brief opportunities he's allowed it. it becomes difficult to know if she'd needed to weaken him over time to fall into her hands, or if he'd been the one purposely letting himself fall apart from the start.
when she finally draws herself back, he peers up at her with a soft glow evident in his eyes, lightness that can contrast the typical darkness found there β affection, adoration, a swirl of emotions emitted at once as his fingertips find her cheek to caress in gentle strokes, slow without the rush to leave this too fast. and when she smiles, he matches it in turn, even in the smaller curving of his lips, breath still trying to ease back into a steadier pace. ] Hi.
[ she's going to have to remember how her legs work soon, but she might not have to figure that part out just yet, not while they focus on coming down together, some of the shared heat between them wearing off. she's sweaty-sticky against him, strands of hair gently plastered to her cheeks and the nape of her neck, but she's not put off by what pools in the backs of her knees or what his fingers trail through at the small of her back, even that evaporating to cool her while her pulse slows to a less intense rate.
and the question is there, on the tip of her tongue, if this has already been a mistake, if they've crossed one line too far, but the seconds continue to tick past and he's not pulling away from her, not reaching for his clothes and mumbling some weak excuse to leave β and she, to her own surprise, can't come up with a reason to ask him to go. this isn't what she does; she doesn't stick around, doesn't let herself have these moments of afterglow. in and out and that's it.
but their eyes meet and somehow the warmth in her belly sparks hot all over again when he smiles back at her, lifts a hand to her face; she won't be able to get the image of his face here out of her mind, not ever, that unmistakable fondness in his expression now directed solely at her, and she's briefly shy on the receiving end, turning her face into the stroke of his fingertips while trying to hide the rising color in her cheeks. ] Hey, you.
[ the words are simple, merely casual greetings that don't fit the intimacy of the moment, his body still pressed up inside of her, stickiness felt throughout the entirety of his skin in either sweat or sex. but the moment feels simple enough, something easy in his instincts to touch her, fingertips merely moving naturally across her face to circle the soft press of her dimple, that one that always makes him ease more easily into his own smile when he sees it.
his opposite hand still settles at her back, palm gliding in a smooth up and down across the height of her spine, attempting to soothe any tension on that naked skin, to assure her that there's no rush in having her separate herself and pull her weight away if she doesn't feel that need. because he certainly isn't intent on going anywhere, not until she wants him to. it's assuming and dangerous, but then such as been everything else that's sparked between them. ]
Feelin' okay? [ it's a soft question on his lips, partially to fill the space of that silence but also mild genuine concern, always thinking of her first. it could be a question of the physical, of the comfort of her spread thighs and angled legs, and the resulting exhaustion; it could also be a follow-up to the offer he'd extended before they'd drifted too far, when he'd given her that choice to decide which direction they'd take, whether to jump head first into this risk that neither of them seem to be running away from even still. ]
[ it's more, more than she's given anyone in a really long time. even before, with fireman charlie, they'd both agreed heading in about what it was and wasn't going to be, and she'd been able to segment herself, to remove feelings from the equation for something that could just be described as no-strings-attached fun β at least, that's what it might have been if she hadn't fallen down the rabbit hole into deer town shortly following their figurative roll in the hay.
but looking at frank, she can almost guarantee there wouldn't have been this same tenderness afterward, this checking in with her. she wouldn't have allowed time for it, and she doesn't know what it says that she's doing that now.
instead of responding out loud right away, she hums, tucking her head in against his shoulder with a small nuzzling, her nose nudging in along the curve of his unshaven jaw. she's relaxed but not tired, contented but not sleepy; it's a strange position to be in and she knows she'll have to navigate the awkwardness of sliding off his lap at some point but that isn't right now. the slow caress of his hands, the heat of him below her, keeps her own warmth pleasantly circulating, and she doesn't want to sacrifice that so quickly. ]
Yeah. [ her voice is faint, equally soft, but he's close enough that she doesn't need to muster much above a whisper. she reaches up to clutch fingers around his, drawing their hands together against his chest, that tattoo positioned above his heart. ] You?
[ this isn't all too different from how he would have responded to anyone else in this situation; even in beth's bed, their meeting having been limited to that single night and his intent on leaving town instantly in the morning, he'd placed all his care into their entanglements, not treating it merely as the one night stand they'd both known it to be. but even if his habits don't differ, the circumstances certainly do. wynonna isn't beth, spontaneity placed evenly within a box of only a few hours. and she isn't maria either, holding that certainty about his feelings the moment he'd found her eyes, definite love sparking in the exchange of playful insults and obvious intent.
she's something else altogether, a mystery that he knows won't stop tonight if they will themselves to draw it out longer, risks placed wholeheartedly into something that he can't spell with confidence. but it doesn't bother him, settling on focusing only on these smaller moments, letting them gradually stitch together into something bigger, without knowing what the picture might be when and if he can ever make it out.
she returns the question to him and he ducks his head in his own rare bout of bashfulness, small smile playing at his lips before swiping that habitual lick over them, nipping gently at the edges before peering back at her in almost shy glances. ] Yeah. [ he mirrors in his whisper, tucking their hands up to his mouth to press a brief kiss to the back of hers before returning them to the skin right over his heart. ] Yeah, I really am.
[ he wonders how long he could stay here like this with her, if it should be allowed at all; the longer he does, the more difficult he'll find it to eventually leave. ] But you are looking a little tuckered out. Want me to give you a lift to bed? [ the curve of his brow means to play it like a small joke, though the willingness is still there if she wants it. he also doesn't voice the before i go that he figures would be assumed. ]
[ even without the possibility of more, she recognizes the difference here, the trust that had laid the groundwork for everything that had followed, coincidence and circumstance driving most of their meetings before she'd figured out that she wanted it to be more intentional than that, seeking out his company even when the situation didn't always lend itself to their paths crossing.
even then, maybe there'd been signs of her wanting this, a closeness that she didn't necessarily feel deserving of or entitled to but longed for anyway, because with every part of himself he'd revealed to her she'd unconsciously given him her own pieces in exchange, again and again until he could claim more of her than anyone else here.
she isn't anticipating the shyness from him too and when it comes she's almost endeared more by that spread of lips, the tongue that darts out to wet them, the carefulness with which he lifts their clasped hands to drop a kiss against hers before lowering them both down again, and she can't stop herself from kissing him then, a soft assurance that regardless of what happens from this point on, they'll be okay.
his offer to escort her upstairs and into bed earns the arch of a single eyebrow before its twin follows and she hooks her lower lip in with her teeth, like she's even pausing to weigh over her options when the decision is practically spelled out for her already. ] Only if you're coming with me. [ the unintentional innuendo in that comment isn't lost on her and she laughs in the form of an exhaled chuckle, but the unspoken proposal in it stands, too. she wouldn't be opposed to him joining her β for sleep, or for whatever else they want to make use of that bed for before the sun comes up. ]
[ he considers the dangers of what it means to stay this long in her arms, but all it takes is the simple dip of her head, pressing her lips to his for something sweet and assuring, a kiss that says more in its brief exchange than what a full discussion about tonight's actions could. whatever it all amounts to, they'll still be "harry" and "judy" in the morning, and the way they respond in soft smiles and simplified gestures is only affirmation that they're still the same in all of this, even if the edges have differed to something far bigger.
even when she laughs at herself, quickly noting himself the unintentional joke she'd slipped in towards her response, it earns a vague roll of his eyes, the lack of actual annoyance clear with how he holds his soft grin through it.
but even amongst the playfulness, he has to draw his attention back onto the answer itself, his eyes watching her carefully. ] You want me to? [ it isn't even specifically about what they intend to do once they're there, whether they'll let exhaustion consume them into a doze or if they'll prolong the need for sleep with other intentions; it's the staying that speaks louder than anything, that she'd seek to have him linger even longer than he already. ]
[ she might wrestle over all of this tomorrow... or is it later today? god, she's been awake for so long and yet somehow she could stay up for hours longer just talking to him, drifting off to sleep before she even realizes that's what she's doing. but she's reassured by the exchange of laughs that follow, removing any possible tension remaining in her shoulders, her fingers resuming a gentle slide in the hair at the back of his head. ]
Mmm. Yeah. [ she tips her forehead to his, eyes holding his right until they close again, and she breathes her sigh over the tilting of his mouth, that smile that lingers behind before she gently eases off of him with a reflexive shiver, the sudden lack of him as much of an adjustment as that initial joining.
she might not expand on that request so much in actual words now, because it's tough for her to perceive anything beyond just wanting him to stick around, selfishly craving this new version of his company. but he has to know what she means when she doesn't slip off his lap immediately, lets her hand slip down to rest against his nape, and allows her breathing to even out a bit more. ] Just give me a second to remember how walking works. [ because she hadn't taken his question literally; he can't actually be thinking of carrying her now. ]
[ he'd considered he might end up finding reasons to leave, possibly spell out the diner as his reason, knowing he'll eventually need to open its door back up for the busier breakfast hours. but he doesn't find himself scavenging for that excuse, especially not when she affirms her desire to have him around for much longer than either of them had possibly initially anticipated, that request all he needs to make his decision on staying.
but even that consideration of moving from this spot has them unrushed, even when she does move to create that eventual separation, her fingers still tracing through his hair, soft brushes that make him realize just how long he's allowed it to grow out over the past few weeks β another signal that his mind hasn't been so intent on changing things from as they've been lately.
when she comments on needing that extended time, his lips quirk into a slight smugness, realizing that she hadn't taken him at his literal word. ] You can take more than a second, y'know. [ that's when he rolls his fingers onto her back again, lowering down his palms to run beneath the space at the underside of her thighs. ] Hold on. [ it's the only real warning he provides before he's leaning forward on the couch, gathering up the energy back in his legs (having needed that reminder himself on merely standing again) before he straightens up, clutching her at the thighs to keep her held steady against his chest.
he knows the layout of her house enough to move without needing direction, merely peering over her shoulder to make sure he can see his path clearly. there's only a momentary pause when he approaches the stairs, frowning slightly having briefly forgotten their existence in the first place before he makes the track upwards, mind far from the idea of him exploring the expanse of her house completely naked, only stopping when he's entered her bedroom and can lower her safely upon the bed. ]
Okay, good. [ she sighs, fully prepared to take the seconds she's being given to collect herself while all her muscles remain in that entirely lulled state, not possessing anything in the way of motivation on her end, and her head is already tipping forward onto the sturdiness of his shoulder β which is why she almost scrabbles for a hold on him when he eventually rises to her feet with her clinging to him like some kind of spider monkey, eyes widening and the smallest of gasps slipping out before she realizes he's making good on that intention to literally carry her to bed. ]
What are you β [ he's lifting her with those arms, and she almost ventures a question about whether or not his shoulder can handle it yet but he's maneuvering around the coffee table and back out of the living room to the stairs leading up to the second floor with an ease that only spells comfort on his end, even if it's not a far-off destination. she breathes another laugh, turning her head to nudge her forehead into his temple, partly to give him a path to see over her bare shoulder but also because she can't completely believe it's happening.
it's not that she thinks he'll drop her, but she really doesn't picture them making it all the way upstairs and into her bedroom, the right one indicated by the light she'd left on while changing earlier. he sets her down on the mattress smoothly, and for once she doesn't have it in her to be embarrassed by her unmade bed, stretching across rumpled sheets as she props herself up on her elbows, watches him standing over her with the tip of her tongue touched to the edge of her mouth. ]
C'mere. [ she's not ready again, not yet, but greeted with the sight of him in this territory, her private space, new for the both of them to be inhabiting together, is a thrill all on its own, and she doesn't want to be without the weight of him over her for very much longer. ]
[ he cracks a quiet laugh at her stumbling reaction, the scramble that has her soon clutching to hold on when he surprises her with that sudden lift. she can see the amusement from her angle, spelled out so blatantly on his well-held smirk, and there's an ease in the way he holds her, the strength of his biceps doing their part in carrying her weight without any definite struggle. even his shoulder doesn't find a problem with the position, having had its time to heal, much faster than even he's used to considering how it'd been given more time without demanding use than he would have allowed himself if not for the worry and concern from both wynonna and laura over his healing process.
part of him merely seeks that amusement in teasing her, but he doesn't anticipate what else the playful happens to do when it further sets them into that comfort zone. there's that familiarity that has them now fully in a consistent exchange of smiles, more comfortable than merely shy, that by the time he sets her upon her bed and she's giving that clear demand, he's bearing neither surprise nor resistence to abide by it.
it's a different setting now, more intimate than before when they'd limited themselves to that perch on her couch; there's something all the more personal to be in her bed, his knees rising over the edges to shuffle forward between her spread legs. he's not hard again by any means, but there's certainly the simmering incline of arousal returning when he lowers himself over her, if only for that eagerness to find her lips again, sweetness still in the contact even if there's that depth of passion in it, parting his lips to provide that playful, exploring tongue, simply content to taste her for the moment, an arm wrapping tendering around her, palm stroking soft at the height of her hair, as the other slides low to caress the surface of her warm thigh. ]
[ that self-satisfied look on his face would be enough on its own for her to give him a gentle punch in the arm if he wasn't currently carrying her β because if anything would make him more inclined to drop her, it'd be winding up on the receiving end of a good-natured slugging. but she'll give him the enjoyment of catching her off-guard (because if she even allowed herself to dwell in it a bit longer she'd have to admit to liking it, too). but, almost as soon as it starts, his holding her under his own power ends when he settles her down against the bed β carefully, not an unceremonious dumping.
and he bends low when she beckons out loud, that roll of shoulders carrying him as he walks out on hands and knees over her; it's a novelty too, to see him from this angle, hovering over her, muscles rippling when he guides his body down against her own. she arches up into him, thighs finding residence against his hips and face tilted up for their mouths to skim before settling, and she finally relaxes back against the mattress as her own arms move around him, palms stroking against his shoulderblades and trailing over the curve of his spine.
she's still not over it, having him here, not just in her bed but in her waking hours, not limited to the scope of her memory and unconscious desire. she's almost prepared to have to tear herself from this dream, but every time she opens her eyes it's his face that swims into focus, his sounds she hears leveled next to her own. her name on his lips. she breathes his into that kiss, still that faint flavor of whiskey on his tongue but replaced more and more by his own unique taste, the scent of sweat and sex lingering between the press of skin on skin. ]
[ she draws out his name from her lips again, and he momentarily gets caught in a soft smile, still somehow entranced every time he hears it whispered like that from her throat, desire filtered within the extended sound of it. he moans low in response, swiping his tongue across her lip when he says hers in turn, an exchange that he'd be content in repeating over and over as he takes in the wet of their mouths, the breathlessness that they fall into again now that they occupy their mouths in lazy but eager kisses.
any lingering concerns about the aftermath of this don't rise to his mind anymore; something about this feels far more solidifying than before, the way her palms branch up over his back and draw him in closer to her, hips moving in function together with far more freedom than his position on the couch had allowed. it's really the entirety of her that he feels pressed up against him in her arch as he sinks just enough while still keeping his weight from trapping her beneath him, and he doesn't need to be inside to register how warm she simply is all over, the sensation of her skin nudged in so close to his own an addiction in itself.
it becomes clear fast that sleep isn't the first direction either of their minds will go, not when hands roam and stroke skin as if neither of them are done with this opportunity to continue exploring those depths, those limits.
taking his cues from the rolling vibrations of her sounds, his name urging him further, he's confident enough to let his palm at her thigh slide in between their bodies, dipping in low until firm fingers can slip against the apex, stroking slow where the combinations of their releases still keep her well wet. ]
[ it does feel like the natural next step for them somehow, those teasing sentiments now paired with even more intimate touch β because they've made contact before in other, smaller ways. her elbow digging into his side while they'd crammed themselves into those tiny theater seats and he'd tried to steal a handful of her popcorn. her shoulder jostling his as they'd crowded together to look underneath her sink so he could explain the process of fixing a leaky pipe. the absent brushing of fingers when she'd nudged past his hand with her own to swipe a piece of bacon from his plate at the diner. all those little points of her body against his and still it hadn't signaled this, even with the pollen that had rendered them tangled up in his bed not too long ago.
she's briefly overwhelmed by the size of him over her, not as readily discernable when she'd been the one hovering over him before but undeniable now as he covers her body with his, careful not to crush but giving her that security of limbs and torso draped over her while she rocks up into him, soft whimper flowing freely from her lips to his.
she hadn't been able to put her hands on all of him before and she's definitely seizing advantage of the opportunity, the change of scenery, the new position, to do that, skimming over shoulders and back and lower. she dares to give him a squeeze over that firm curve with a low chuckle in her throat before that sound turns into a gasp when his fingers achieve their own descent along her abdomen and nudge up between her thighs.
she's slick there, messy with the both of them, and not sensitive enough to make his touch more than she can handle right now, and her thighs practically fall open under his attentions, peeling her mouth away from his to sigh next to the shell of his ear. ] You trying to work me up again?
[ while seemingly the natural step, it had taken quite a gradual road to get here, simpler brief grazes of their hand hardly ever hinting to the places where their palms would roam now. but he still remembers those first instances when her touch could perform quite the spell on him, when all it had taken was a brief stroke of her fingers at the curve of his jaw, swiping at the water droplets hanging against the then thinner hairs on his chin, to lure him into kissing her that first time, his own fingers offering light caresses to the chilled swells of her cheeks.
their lips find themselves more confident now, eagerness as they swell softly from the addictive draw of mouth against mouth, their bodies wet in an entirely different way than they'd been underneath the spray of that shower. he hadn't known then that it would be anything more than that brief kiss, his own conscious cutting it short with quite recognition of its regret.
she'd yelled at him after the fact, but he doesn't see her yelling at him now, at the very least not to angrily scold him for his spontaneous choice, and instead he finds himself drawn into the other noises her mouth makes, those almost quiet whimpers stirring his interest in more way than one, pleased when they spur into a gasp at the initial press of his fingers between her legs.
when she whispers at his ear, he grins to himself, almost chuckling before he returns that low response to her ear, breath still warm on her skin. ] If I was, I'd be using something other than my hand to do it.
[ he lets the words linger there for enough time for her to register them, letting them swirl there with any potential interest before he presses his lips against her jaw, beginning an extended trail from the center of her chest to her belly as he rolls down the length of her, head remaining ducked until he aligns himself to where his fingers had previously slipped, the scent of both her and him heavy within his nostrils but somehow tempting still as he teases with a kiss against slickness, merely experimental at first. ]
[ it had taken the removal of whatever inhibitions she could still claim ownership of to make that first kiss happen, plus the addition of a little liquid courage and the escalation of a spontaneous water fight that had culminated in the most severe form of retaliation when he'd dunked her beneath that icy cold spray. to this day, she still doesn't know if anyone had really emerged the winner, but maybe that's a debate best left to a time when she isn't caught up in kissing him, longer and more driven than the tender press of wet mouths they'd shared in that bathroom.
and her decision to confront him back then, to march into his apartment without greater consideration for what he might be in the middle of (or turning into), had really been the result of her own inner frustrations, her irritation with herself for getting pulled into something she wasn't prepared to deal with. regardless of any greater feelings she may or may not have been denying at that stage, this wasn't what she was looking for. in any sense. period.
but while she's slipped past his defenses, he's accomplished the same on his end, with her, finding means of weathering down the walls she uses to keep everyone at arm's length, to protect herself, to guard her own heart. she can't mask the smile that his rumbled response coaxes back onto her lips, wide enough for both dimples to be rendered visible in her features. ]
Oh, yeah? [ she knows exactly what he's getting at, brows rising, and the further arch of her body betrays that interest β the tipping of her chin into the roll of her shoulders into the lift of hips and lower, and when he settles himself between the spread of her thighs she can't help but try to better observe him, and her head lolls against the mattress, hair fanning out to frame her face while she tracks his descent. his kiss provokes a soft intake of breath, her confession slipping out before she can stop herself. ] I've β thought about your mouth on me like this.
[ this certainly hadn't been his intention when he'd offered to bring her up to her room, and possibly not even an idea that had immediately spurred when he'd climbed onto the bed to meet her mouth, sinking his body over her almost protectively and securely for the sake of dragging this on a little longer than they possibly meant to. but it's where he finds himself now, simply moving on instinct, one heart beat at a time, as they've been seeming to follow throughout the entire course of the night β or morning, rather, even if the sun hasn't yet risen.
he takes those arching curves of her body, the further spread of her legs to allow him that offered entry, to represent her approval of his teased indication. even though he'd pressed that initial kiss right to the center, he tilts to nudge his lips to the inner space of her thigh as well, noting those damp spots high up where the wet of her had spread low once she'd separated from him. it's there he swipes slow licks, cleaning but replacing that dampness with that of his own tongue. ] Yeah? [ he offers a subtle smile, only partially visible from her angled view, but the surprise and curiosity is clear in his tone. ]
Why don't you tell me about that? [ it's a bold request, but it falls in line with her own confession, new territories beginning to be tested as audibly as it is physically, his mouth parting to tease more of those licks along that vertical entry. ]
[ and it hadn't been her intent to launch into that reveal of her fantasies, whether subconsciously or not. her dreams had definitely been the landscape for most of them, desires she hadn't been able to fully express spelled out way more clearly in the scenarios she'd created for the two of them. seemingly innocent at first, casual exchanges as was their norm before devolving into something closer to these present lines β though maybe with the peppering in of some filthy language to really drive home the absurdity factor.
it's not her first inclination to express, out loud, how often he's been given a co-starring role in her unconscious dreamscape, and when he gently encourages her to share β not a demand, because it doesn't leave him that way, a softness in his voice while his tongue tastes her inner thigh and further β she can't stifle the restless shifting of her hips, the words that stumble out. ] Well, I β
[ she swallows, drawing her lips in, wetting them both with a sweep of her own tongue and wondering if she can even get through telling him when even the slightest flick against her teases out a different sound from her throat. ] I had a dream about you. Your face between my thighs, downstairs on the dining room table. Me telling you how much I wanted this, and β and here in this place, these dreams, they always feel so real that I woke up soaked straight through. [ and she's not talking about sweat either, frank. ]
[ he'd joked to her before about telling him her fantasies, the playful tease resulting in her wistful desire to dive into a plateful of hot, fresh fries (which he'd been intent on fulfilling, even if they found further distractions to keep from finishing devouring that batch). he hadn't actually considered that she might have had an actual dream where his mouth was front and center, tending to her exactly like this. ]
Maybe I should have carried you over to the dining room table instead. [ he breathes a soft chuckle, teasing her purposefully, especially knowing the incline of her sensitivities from his brushing swipes. though, truthfully, that little detail does provide a little further insight, recalling a slight mood shift whenever he lingered at that table, arranging his tools before use, an almost urgency in her tone to get him away from it.
but what he doesn't say is what the overall knowledge of it does to him, to know that she'd somehow been thinking of him like this, for however long before tonight; he thinks of her wet by natural means, by only her imagination, of him in her mind, working her as she wants him to, and that idea alone begins to rouse him again, shifting his hips slightly against the mattress as he tries to realign his focus to where his mouth is, suddenly a little more motivated than he had already been. ]
This dream β did it feel better than this? [ he continues to move slow, but the brushes are firmer, swiping across those slick surfaces of her folds, rolling what's already wet onto his tongue. it doesn't deter him to know that it isn't only her taste there, that there's plenty of him mixed together with it, and that only adds to the pleasure of it, that one go hasn't stopped her from wanting more of him, that she's still welcoming him now as he drags his tongue vertically against that more sensitive bud, rolling over it in gentle circles. ]
[ she wouldn't have divulged anything to him then, while they were still on the phone, navigating exactly what she could and couldn't realistically tell him β but here, with him situated between the spread of her knees and his hands gently sliding across her inner thighs, it's remarkably easier than she thought it would be to just let those admissions spill out, further emboldened by the teasing wetness he delivers with each barely-there sweep of his tongue. ]
Easier on the knees up here, pro β probably. [ she tries for a joke, but it doesn't come out as smoothly as she intends it to when she breathes in again, sudden and sharp, and now she knows he's probably thinking back on every time she tried to keep him away from that section of the house, the sight of what he'd done to her there still in her mind's eye even if it had never actually gone down that way in real life.
and she won't say what she'd done upon waking, coaxing fingers down through the absolute slickness there to bring herself to the brink of orgasm and then over that pinnacle; it hadn't taken much, she'd been literally aching for it, for the sensations her brain had envisioned, and yet they pale in comparison to what she's actually experiencing, the sweetness of her reality starting to become fully realized. ]
No. [ she whimpers because it's true, but the amusement is there too, driven by the fact that he might actually be trying to compete with that imagined version of himself, and if he's put off in any way by the combined mess between her legs he doesn't let on, tongue delving over her with a harder press, even if he continues at the same even pace. she reaches down to thread fingers through his hair yet again, a soft rasping through what he's allowed to grow out since arriving here, but gives the strands a small tug when he finds that tiny bundle of nerves. ] It didn't.
[ he won't admit as to whether or not it's intended to be a private competition with himself; he's no idea what wynonna might have imagined, or how close to realistic the dream even happened to be in the first place, but it goes without saying that, considering she'd imagined him doing this to some extent, he doesn't want to disappoint her. but he doesn't attempt to overthink it either, too consumed with that mutual desire to really even be allowed to let his thoughts float elsewhere.
she tastes of salt and sweat, sex and slickness, and when he rolls his tongue along that soft skin, it's become as much for him as it is for her, encouraged by the way she shifts her fingers into his head to urge him on, the tugs that come from it exhilarating with those soft stings it provides, knowing he'd only be aroused further if she tightened her fingers further around the strands.
there's no other words from him now that he's found a steady rhythm there against her, but it doesn't cease the noises that arise, soft groans vibrating against her when he parts his lips over that swollen button to suck gently, wanting to test where her voice travels, how she chooses to direct him, or if her body merely tenses in response to what he does to her.
it's all experimental, even if he has his experiences to know those spots that rouse a little more confidently; even though there'd be uncertainty about this, the longer he spends tasting her, touching her, the more likely it seems of this being more than these hours, that what he does to her now and what he learns from it, might even come into play during a later experience. not that he occupies much of his head with thinking of later, more distracted with the now. even if it doesn't go beyond this, beyond this bed, he'll make use of the minutes anyway, to make it worthwhile for all that she had sought out from a mere dream, to give her a reality that does more with a solid tongue and succulent lips, offering something that should be more satisfying than a fantasy. ]
[ it might be too early to tell, but she's already convinced that this is panning out to be way, way better than anything her imagination could have come up with. she wouldn't have been able to conjure his sounds from memory, know those noises of enjoyment he makes when he tastes her, doesn't rush through anything but takes his time exploring like he's trying to figure out what she likes. she's not used to that, is far more accustomed to hastening through anything resembling foreplay in favor of the main event. and maybe she'd fallen prey to that their real first time, only kisses and briefly wandering mouths to build up their mutual need, but that isn't what's happening now.
she tries to maintain slow and even breaths, but he's too experimental, too set on learning her, and she realizes that she's not going to be able to rest for as long as he's down there, hips twitching underneath everything from the light suction of his lips to firmer drags from his tongue until she's forced to grip a little harder at his hair and hope she's not hurting him while the other finds purchase in the sheets beneath her, flexing and relaxing her fingers whenever he stumbles across a more sensitive spot.
some of that slickness is theirs, but more and more it's being replaced by arousal that's hers and hers alone under the ministrations of his mouth, the groans that create an added vibration over tender flesh, and when she tugs at his hair now it's not to steer him in any one direction but to clue him into the fact that what he's doing is good, so good.
the problem with finally getting to have this, him, the two of them together in her bed, figuring each other out, is that when it's all over she's going to feel the loss of it. maybe it would have been better not knowing, because now that she knows how he can make her feel she won't be ready to relinquish it, to surrender it, to backtrack and pretend this isn't what they are. what she wants them to be. even if she might not be able to say it out loud yet. ]
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she's about to shatter, to give herself over to him one piece at a time until he's got all of her in his hands, and she can only hope he'll be able to maintain a grasp on those fragments until she can forge herself back into that whole. the truth is that she trusts him to, has trusted him since maybe longer than she's even realized, and if there's anyone here she doesn't mind breaking open for it's the one who's holding her now.
there's nothing but silence, peace and the sounds of their breathing, bodies moving in imperfectly perfect rhythm, right up until the moment that she rocks down onto him just at the right angle and sways, goes rigid over him for the span of a couple seconds and finally, blissfully comes with a long shudder and a soft sob. her cheek nudges along his temple while her hips carry her through those lasting waves, eyes closed and heart primed to bursting. ]
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somehow he should have known this was inevitable; they move together and it all makes sense, having her like this, rolling their hips in a parallel pace that feels like they know each other beyond the physicality of it all. and perhaps they do. because even if heβs stripped bare of his clothes now, heβs been heavily exposed in front of her eyes for an extension of weeks, maybe even months. even if it all hasnβt been explained, many details left covered and distant, sheβs picked apart enough for him to still feel like himself in her presence, at ease and unguarded.
and there are no guards here, his own noises rising in the front of steady grunts, rising from his throat every time she presses against him hard, relentless and fast-paced, the consistency of their stroking connection dragging him closer to that edge.
when she gets there, he doesnβt stop but he does hold her tighter, arms bracing around her back until his fingertips are gripping hard into her sides; they wonβt bruise the skin but she might feel the lasting imprints of him there, there and just about everywhere else, parts of him given to her in the same way that she offers herself. steadying her as her body tenses in his arms, he tries to tilt to kiss at her jaw, tender sweet peppering presses to soothe her through it, but itβs rendered difficult when he starts to feel the staggering motions of his own bucking hips. soon they tense, jolting up against her thighs, right until heβs pressed in deeply, a moment in which neither of them are separate from the other, and he wholeheartedly allows her to have him β or rather, sheβs already stolen him in pieces, and heβs been helpless in resisting, letting her claim him as she wants. ]
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if you knew the kind of man i really am, the things i've done, you wouldn't be looking at me like this. he might still be convinced of that, but regardless of whatever he's done, she's seen what he does here, continues to do, and there isn't any mistaking that level of care. the worry he'd had for laura, even with wounds freshly inflicted, had struck her deeper than she'd ever thought was possible β to the point where now, especially, she lets in the little admission, secretly and to herself, that maybe it wasn't completely the pollen's influence after all that led her to seek his embrace, the warmth of his lips.
he holds her, while she tilts, cradles her close, not too firm or restrictive but giving her permission to unravel while he steadies her. and she turns her forehead against his cheek, as his hips power up into her for those last few thrusts, as he groans helplessly beneath her, sweat and salt and his own indefinable scent that she wants to bury her nose into and commit to its own new memory. her fingers run along the side of his face, his jaw, and she holds him too, as he finishes deep inside her, quietly whimpers through that flood of new warmth within.
even afterward, she doesn't try to withdraw from him yet, muscles lax and frame sagging into his, hoping that her weight won't be too much for him to bear now; she gives him her idly trembling body and a few kisses quietly drifted across his cheek, the side of his neck, eyes still closed until she finally sits back, blinks them open and finds his gaze with a small smile. ]
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he'd wondered if the regret and the realizations would strike him fast once those remnants of physical desire had been tended to. but even as they sink into those softer, breathless moments in the afterglow, the aching to be near her only intensifies further, craving those gentle nuzzles of lips and hands, closeness in small forms.
for someone who's always been so eager to go about things alone, frank has always been needy for soft touch like this, to be held and to hold in return, something to protect and cherish even in the brief opportunities he's allowed it. it becomes difficult to know if she'd needed to weaken him over time to fall into her hands, or if he'd been the one purposely letting himself fall apart from the start.
when she finally draws herself back, he peers up at her with a soft glow evident in his eyes, lightness that can contrast the typical darkness found there β affection, adoration, a swirl of emotions emitted at once as his fingertips find her cheek to caress in gentle strokes, slow without the rush to leave this too fast. and when she smiles, he matches it in turn, even in the smaller curving of his lips, breath still trying to ease back into a steadier pace. ] Hi.
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and the question is there, on the tip of her tongue, if this has already been a mistake, if they've crossed one line too far, but the seconds continue to tick past and he's not pulling away from her, not reaching for his clothes and mumbling some weak excuse to leave β and she, to her own surprise, can't come up with a reason to ask him to go. this isn't what she does; she doesn't stick around, doesn't let herself have these moments of afterglow. in and out and that's it.
but their eyes meet and somehow the warmth in her belly sparks hot all over again when he smiles back at her, lifts a hand to her face; she won't be able to get the image of his face here out of her mind, not ever, that unmistakable fondness in his expression now directed solely at her, and she's briefly shy on the receiving end, turning her face into the stroke of his fingertips while trying to hide the rising color in her cheeks. ] Hey, you.
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his opposite hand still settles at her back, palm gliding in a smooth up and down across the height of her spine, attempting to soothe any tension on that naked skin, to assure her that there's no rush in having her separate herself and pull her weight away if she doesn't feel that need. because he certainly isn't intent on going anywhere, not until she wants him to. it's assuming and dangerous, but then such as been everything else that's sparked between them. ]
Feelin' okay? [ it's a soft question on his lips, partially to fill the space of that silence but also mild genuine concern, always thinking of her first. it could be a question of the physical, of the comfort of her spread thighs and angled legs, and the resulting exhaustion; it could also be a follow-up to the offer he'd extended before they'd drifted too far, when he'd given her that choice to decide which direction they'd take, whether to jump head first into this risk that neither of them seem to be running away from even still. ]
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but looking at frank, she can almost guarantee there wouldn't have been this same tenderness afterward, this checking in with her. she wouldn't have allowed time for it, and she doesn't know what it says that she's doing that now.
instead of responding out loud right away, she hums, tucking her head in against his shoulder with a small nuzzling, her nose nudging in along the curve of his unshaven jaw. she's relaxed but not tired, contented but not sleepy; it's a strange position to be in and she knows she'll have to navigate the awkwardness of sliding off his lap at some point but that isn't right now. the slow caress of his hands, the heat of him below her, keeps her own warmth pleasantly circulating, and she doesn't want to sacrifice that so quickly. ]
Yeah. [ her voice is faint, equally soft, but he's close enough that she doesn't need to muster much above a whisper. she reaches up to clutch fingers around his, drawing their hands together against his chest, that tattoo positioned above his heart. ] You?
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she's something else altogether, a mystery that he knows won't stop tonight if they will themselves to draw it out longer, risks placed wholeheartedly into something that he can't spell with confidence. but it doesn't bother him, settling on focusing only on these smaller moments, letting them gradually stitch together into something bigger, without knowing what the picture might be when and if he can ever make it out.
she returns the question to him and he ducks his head in his own rare bout of bashfulness, small smile playing at his lips before swiping that habitual lick over them, nipping gently at the edges before peering back at her in almost shy glances. ] Yeah. [ he mirrors in his whisper, tucking their hands up to his mouth to press a brief kiss to the back of hers before returning them to the skin right over his heart. ] Yeah, I really am.
[ he wonders how long he could stay here like this with her, if it should be allowed at all; the longer he does, the more difficult he'll find it to eventually leave. ] But you are looking a little tuckered out. Want me to give you a lift to bed? [ the curve of his brow means to play it like a small joke, though the willingness is still there if she wants it. he also doesn't voice the before i go that he figures would be assumed. ]
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even then, maybe there'd been signs of her wanting this, a closeness that she didn't necessarily feel deserving of or entitled to but longed for anyway, because with every part of himself he'd revealed to her she'd unconsciously given him her own pieces in exchange, again and again until he could claim more of her than anyone else here.
she isn't anticipating the shyness from him too and when it comes she's almost endeared more by that spread of lips, the tongue that darts out to wet them, the carefulness with which he lifts their clasped hands to drop a kiss against hers before lowering them both down again, and she can't stop herself from kissing him then, a soft assurance that regardless of what happens from this point on, they'll be okay.
his offer to escort her upstairs and into bed earns the arch of a single eyebrow before its twin follows and she hooks her lower lip in with her teeth, like she's even pausing to weigh over her options when the decision is practically spelled out for her already. ] Only if you're coming with me. [ the unintentional innuendo in that comment isn't lost on her and she laughs in the form of an exhaled chuckle, but the unspoken proposal in it stands, too. she wouldn't be opposed to him joining her β for sleep, or for whatever else they want to make use of that bed for before the sun comes up. ]
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even when she laughs at herself, quickly noting himself the unintentional joke she'd slipped in towards her response, it earns a vague roll of his eyes, the lack of actual annoyance clear with how he holds his soft grin through it.
but even amongst the playfulness, he has to draw his attention back onto the answer itself, his eyes watching her carefully. ] You want me to? [ it isn't even specifically about what they intend to do once they're there, whether they'll let exhaustion consume them into a doze or if they'll prolong the need for sleep with other intentions; it's the staying that speaks louder than anything, that she'd seek to have him linger even longer than he already. ]
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Mmm. Yeah. [ she tips her forehead to his, eyes holding his right until they close again, and she breathes her sigh over the tilting of his mouth, that smile that lingers behind before she gently eases off of him with a reflexive shiver, the sudden lack of him as much of an adjustment as that initial joining.
she might not expand on that request so much in actual words now, because it's tough for her to perceive anything beyond just wanting him to stick around, selfishly craving this new version of his company. but he has to know what she means when she doesn't slip off his lap immediately, lets her hand slip down to rest against his nape, and allows her breathing to even out a bit more. ] Just give me a second to remember how walking works. [ because she hadn't taken his question literally; he can't actually be thinking of carrying her now. ]
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but even that consideration of moving from this spot has them unrushed, even when she does move to create that eventual separation, her fingers still tracing through his hair, soft brushes that make him realize just how long he's allowed it to grow out over the past few weeks β another signal that his mind hasn't been so intent on changing things from as they've been lately.
when she comments on needing that extended time, his lips quirk into a slight smugness, realizing that she hadn't taken him at his literal word. ] You can take more than a second, y'know. [ that's when he rolls his fingers onto her back again, lowering down his palms to run beneath the space at the underside of her thighs. ] Hold on. [ it's the only real warning he provides before he's leaning forward on the couch, gathering up the energy back in his legs (having needed that reminder himself on merely standing again) before he straightens up, clutching her at the thighs to keep her held steady against his chest.
he knows the layout of her house enough to move without needing direction, merely peering over her shoulder to make sure he can see his path clearly. there's only a momentary pause when he approaches the stairs, frowning slightly having briefly forgotten their existence in the first place before he makes the track upwards, mind far from the idea of him exploring the expanse of her house completely naked, only stopping when he's entered her bedroom and can lower her safely upon the bed. ]
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What are you β [ he's lifting her with those arms, and she almost ventures a question about whether or not his shoulder can handle it yet but he's maneuvering around the coffee table and back out of the living room to the stairs leading up to the second floor with an ease that only spells comfort on his end, even if it's not a far-off destination. she breathes another laugh, turning her head to nudge her forehead into his temple, partly to give him a path to see over her bare shoulder but also because she can't completely believe it's happening.
it's not that she thinks he'll drop her, but she really doesn't picture them making it all the way upstairs and into her bedroom, the right one indicated by the light she'd left on while changing earlier. he sets her down on the mattress smoothly, and for once she doesn't have it in her to be embarrassed by her unmade bed, stretching across rumpled sheets as she props herself up on her elbows, watches him standing over her with the tip of her tongue touched to the edge of her mouth. ]
C'mere. [ she's not ready again, not yet, but greeted with the sight of him in this territory, her private space, new for the both of them to be inhabiting together, is a thrill all on its own, and she doesn't want to be without the weight of him over her for very much longer. ]
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part of him merely seeks that amusement in teasing her, but he doesn't anticipate what else the playful happens to do when it further sets them into that comfort zone. there's that familiarity that has them now fully in a consistent exchange of smiles, more comfortable than merely shy, that by the time he sets her upon her bed and she's giving that clear demand, he's bearing neither surprise nor resistence to abide by it.
it's a different setting now, more intimate than before when they'd limited themselves to that perch on her couch; there's something all the more personal to be in her bed, his knees rising over the edges to shuffle forward between her spread legs. he's not hard again by any means, but there's certainly the simmering incline of arousal returning when he lowers himself over her, if only for that eagerness to find her lips again, sweetness still in the contact even if there's that depth of passion in it, parting his lips to provide that playful, exploring tongue, simply content to taste her for the moment, an arm wrapping tendering around her, palm stroking soft at the height of her hair, as the other slides low to caress the surface of her warm thigh. ]
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and he bends low when she beckons out loud, that roll of shoulders carrying him as he walks out on hands and knees over her; it's a novelty too, to see him from this angle, hovering over her, muscles rippling when he guides his body down against her own. she arches up into him, thighs finding residence against his hips and face tilted up for their mouths to skim before settling, and she finally relaxes back against the mattress as her own arms move around him, palms stroking against his shoulderblades and trailing over the curve of his spine.
she's still not over it, having him here, not just in her bed but in her waking hours, not limited to the scope of her memory and unconscious desire. she's almost prepared to have to tear herself from this dream, but every time she opens her eyes it's his face that swims into focus, his sounds she hears leveled next to her own. her name on his lips. she breathes his into that kiss, still that faint flavor of whiskey on his tongue but replaced more and more by his own unique taste, the scent of sweat and sex lingering between the press of skin on skin. ]
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any lingering concerns about the aftermath of this don't rise to his mind anymore; something about this feels far more solidifying than before, the way her palms branch up over his back and draw him in closer to her, hips moving in function together with far more freedom than his position on the couch had allowed. it's really the entirety of her that he feels pressed up against him in her arch as he sinks just enough while still keeping his weight from trapping her beneath him, and he doesn't need to be inside to register how warm she simply is all over, the sensation of her skin nudged in so close to his own an addiction in itself.
it becomes clear fast that sleep isn't the first direction either of their minds will go, not when hands roam and stroke skin as if neither of them are done with this opportunity to continue exploring those depths, those limits.
taking his cues from the rolling vibrations of her sounds, his name urging him further, he's confident enough to let his palm at her thigh slide in between their bodies, dipping in low until firm fingers can slip against the apex, stroking slow where the combinations of their releases still keep her well wet. ]
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she's briefly overwhelmed by the size of him over her, not as readily discernable when she'd been the one hovering over him before but undeniable now as he covers her body with his, careful not to crush but giving her that security of limbs and torso draped over her while she rocks up into him, soft whimper flowing freely from her lips to his.
she hadn't been able to put her hands on all of him before and she's definitely seizing advantage of the opportunity, the change of scenery, the new position, to do that, skimming over shoulders and back and lower. she dares to give him a squeeze over that firm curve with a low chuckle in her throat before that sound turns into a gasp when his fingers achieve their own descent along her abdomen and nudge up between her thighs.
she's slick there, messy with the both of them, and not sensitive enough to make his touch more than she can handle right now, and her thighs practically fall open under his attentions, peeling her mouth away from his to sigh next to the shell of his ear. ] You trying to work me up again?
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their lips find themselves more confident now, eagerness as they swell softly from the addictive draw of mouth against mouth, their bodies wet in an entirely different way than they'd been underneath the spray of that shower. he hadn't known then that it would be anything more than that brief kiss, his own conscious cutting it short with quite recognition of its regret.
she'd yelled at him after the fact, but he doesn't see her yelling at him now, at the very least not to angrily scold him for his spontaneous choice, and instead he finds himself drawn into the other noises her mouth makes, those almost quiet whimpers stirring his interest in more way than one, pleased when they spur into a gasp at the initial press of his fingers between her legs.
when she whispers at his ear, he grins to himself, almost chuckling before he returns that low response to her ear, breath still warm on her skin. ] If I was, I'd be using something other than my hand to do it.
[ he lets the words linger there for enough time for her to register them, letting them swirl there with any potential interest before he presses his lips against her jaw, beginning an extended trail from the center of her chest to her belly as he rolls down the length of her, head remaining ducked until he aligns himself to where his fingers had previously slipped, the scent of both her and him heavy within his nostrils but somehow tempting still as he teases with a kiss against slickness, merely experimental at first. ]
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and her decision to confront him back then, to march into his apartment without greater consideration for what he might be in the middle of (or turning into), had really been the result of her own inner frustrations, her irritation with herself for getting pulled into something she wasn't prepared to deal with. regardless of any greater feelings she may or may not have been denying at that stage, this wasn't what she was looking for. in any sense. period.
but while she's slipped past his defenses, he's accomplished the same on his end, with her, finding means of weathering down the walls she uses to keep everyone at arm's length, to protect herself, to guard her own heart. she can't mask the smile that his rumbled response coaxes back onto her lips, wide enough for both dimples to be rendered visible in her features. ]
Oh, yeah? [ she knows exactly what he's getting at, brows rising, and the further arch of her body betrays that interest β the tipping of her chin into the roll of her shoulders into the lift of hips and lower, and when he settles himself between the spread of her thighs she can't help but try to better observe him, and her head lolls against the mattress, hair fanning out to frame her face while she tracks his descent. his kiss provokes a soft intake of breath, her confession slipping out before she can stop herself. ] I've β thought about your mouth on me like this.
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he takes those arching curves of her body, the further spread of her legs to allow him that offered entry, to represent her approval of his teased indication. even though he'd pressed that initial kiss right to the center, he tilts to nudge his lips to the inner space of her thigh as well, noting those damp spots high up where the wet of her had spread low once she'd separated from him. it's there he swipes slow licks, cleaning but replacing that dampness with that of his own tongue. ] Yeah? [ he offers a subtle smile, only partially visible from her angled view, but the surprise and curiosity is clear in his tone. ]
Why don't you tell me about that? [ it's a bold request, but it falls in line with her own confession, new territories beginning to be tested as audibly as it is physically, his mouth parting to tease more of those licks along that vertical entry. ]
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it's not her first inclination to express, out loud, how often he's been given a co-starring role in her unconscious dreamscape, and when he gently encourages her to share β not a demand, because it doesn't leave him that way, a softness in his voice while his tongue tastes her inner thigh and further β she can't stifle the restless shifting of her hips, the words that stumble out. ] Well, I β
[ she swallows, drawing her lips in, wetting them both with a sweep of her own tongue and wondering if she can even get through telling him when even the slightest flick against her teases out a different sound from her throat. ] I had a dream about you. Your face between my thighs, downstairs on the dining room table. Me telling you how much I wanted this, and β and here in this place, these dreams, they always feel so real that I woke up soaked straight through. [ and she's not talking about sweat either, frank. ]
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Maybe I should have carried you over to the dining room table instead. [ he breathes a soft chuckle, teasing her purposefully, especially knowing the incline of her sensitivities from his brushing swipes. though, truthfully, that little detail does provide a little further insight, recalling a slight mood shift whenever he lingered at that table, arranging his tools before use, an almost urgency in her tone to get him away from it.
but what he doesn't say is what the overall knowledge of it does to him, to know that she'd somehow been thinking of him like this, for however long before tonight; he thinks of her wet by natural means, by only her imagination, of him in her mind, working her as she wants him to, and that idea alone begins to rouse him again, shifting his hips slightly against the mattress as he tries to realign his focus to where his mouth is, suddenly a little more motivated than he had already been. ]
This dream β did it feel better than this? [ he continues to move slow, but the brushes are firmer, swiping across those slick surfaces of her folds, rolling what's already wet onto his tongue. it doesn't deter him to know that it isn't only her taste there, that there's plenty of him mixed together with it, and that only adds to the pleasure of it, that one go hasn't stopped her from wanting more of him, that she's still welcoming him now as he drags his tongue vertically against that more sensitive bud, rolling over it in gentle circles. ]
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Easier on the knees up here, pro β probably. [ she tries for a joke, but it doesn't come out as smoothly as she intends it to when she breathes in again, sudden and sharp, and now she knows he's probably thinking back on every time she tried to keep him away from that section of the house, the sight of what he'd done to her there still in her mind's eye even if it had never actually gone down that way in real life.
and she won't say what she'd done upon waking, coaxing fingers down through the absolute slickness there to bring herself to the brink of orgasm and then over that pinnacle; it hadn't taken much, she'd been literally aching for it, for the sensations her brain had envisioned, and yet they pale in comparison to what she's actually experiencing, the sweetness of her reality starting to become fully realized. ]
No. [ she whimpers because it's true, but the amusement is there too, driven by the fact that he might actually be trying to compete with that imagined version of himself, and if he's put off in any way by the combined mess between her legs he doesn't let on, tongue delving over her with a harder press, even if he continues at the same even pace. she reaches down to thread fingers through his hair yet again, a soft rasping through what he's allowed to grow out since arriving here, but gives the strands a small tug when he finds that tiny bundle of nerves. ] It didn't.
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she tastes of salt and sweat, sex and slickness, and when he rolls his tongue along that soft skin, it's become as much for him as it is for her, encouraged by the way she shifts her fingers into his head to urge him on, the tugs that come from it exhilarating with those soft stings it provides, knowing he'd only be aroused further if she tightened her fingers further around the strands.
there's no other words from him now that he's found a steady rhythm there against her, but it doesn't cease the noises that arise, soft groans vibrating against her when he parts his lips over that swollen button to suck gently, wanting to test where her voice travels, how she chooses to direct him, or if her body merely tenses in response to what he does to her.
it's all experimental, even if he has his experiences to know those spots that rouse a little more confidently; even though there'd be uncertainty about this, the longer he spends tasting her, touching her, the more likely it seems of this being more than these hours, that what he does to her now and what he learns from it, might even come into play during a later experience. not that he occupies much of his head with thinking of later, more distracted with the now. even if it doesn't go beyond this, beyond this bed, he'll make use of the minutes anyway, to make it worthwhile for all that she had sought out from a mere dream, to give her a reality that does more with a solid tongue and succulent lips, offering something that should be more satisfying than a fantasy. ]
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she tries to maintain slow and even breaths, but he's too experimental, too set on learning her, and she realizes that she's not going to be able to rest for as long as he's down there, hips twitching underneath everything from the light suction of his lips to firmer drags from his tongue until she's forced to grip a little harder at his hair and hope she's not hurting him while the other finds purchase in the sheets beneath her, flexing and relaxing her fingers whenever he stumbles across a more sensitive spot.
some of that slickness is theirs, but more and more it's being replaced by arousal that's hers and hers alone under the ministrations of his mouth, the groans that create an added vibration over tender flesh, and when she tugs at his hair now it's not to steer him in any one direction but to clue him into the fact that what he's doing is good, so good.
the problem with finally getting to have this, him, the two of them together in her bed, figuring each other out, is that when it's all over she's going to feel the loss of it. maybe it would have been better not knowing, because now that she knows how he can make her feel she won't be ready to relinquish it, to surrender it, to backtrack and pretend this isn't what they are. what she wants them to be. even if she might not be able to say it out loud yet. ]
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