Blue Eyes - Chapter 18A
Aug. 20th, 2003 04:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowThis one's rated NC-17 kiddies. A little antidote to the angst. 18 B will have some redeeming value!
Chapter 18
He could feel her heart beating against his palm, taste her blood, hear the sigh of her breath as their mouths moved together, tongues drew and danced. She tilted her head, angled her lips, and his hand moved to rest in the hollow of her throat. Her mouth was so sweet, cool against him, counterpoint to his heat, and he could feel her lashes flutter against his cheek. He moaned, or she did, and it didn’t matter because this wasn’t a delicate foray into the past, or a desperate attempt to seal himself off from the world. It was a drugging, delirious moment of meeting her in the middle.
She pulled back slightly, hand resting on his chest, and her eyes were heavy and lidded. Her face was lightly flushed, pinkening across the cheekbone, and he moved his lips over the skin, tasting that blush, moving down to nuzzle at her mouth and lick the blood from her lip. She kissed him again, delving soft and quick, and then turned her head towards where Katralla lay.
John fit his head into the space between her neck and shoulder, sliding his tongue over the line of her nape. He wrapped his arm around her waist, brushed against the bare skin of her back, lost to everything but her, right here, in his arms. Not a fantasy or a dream or a hallucination, but Aeryn, live and strong, and wanting him. He repeated her action from that morning, winding his fingers into the binding of hair at the back of her skull, gently pulling until her head tilted back, exposing the curve of her throat. He pressed his lips to that spot, teased her with his tongue until her hands curled into his hair pulling so hard that his eyes watered, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The problem was solved for him when she bore done fiercely enough and jerked him away from her. She was panting, as lost in this haze of desire as he was, and he wanted to cry and rage and beg. Anything that would allow him to continue what he was doing, but all she did was whisper, “This is a mistake.”
He relaxed his hold on her hair, but shook his head. She nodded in disagreement, but rested her forehead on his, closing her eyes.
“Not here,” she said lowly, pleading. “Not here."
He felt his stomach drop as she let him go and turned away as he relaxed his grip. He watched as she left the room. He didn’t know what to do, whether to follow her, follow his heart, and other more persistent organs, or to stay, keep himself out of trouble, keep safe from the damage he knew she could do, be true to his duties and his wife. He looked down at Katralla, that decision made, bent to kiss her on the forehead, and then hurried out of the room.
Aeryn had made it around the corner and he was forced to jog to catch her. She had to have heard the pounding of his footsteps, but didn’t turn around, ignored him when he called her name, just kept walking away. He sprinted ahead and caught her arm. She tried to jerk it out of his grip, but that was the limit of his patience. Today had been, well, simply too much, and he tightened his grasp, yanked her to him and using his momentum, forced her against the wall, his hands wrapped around her upper arms, his body weight pressing her into the stone, and waiting for her to strike out against him. When she didn't, he knew that he was safe. She was letting this happen. So he shoved everything aside, the Empress, the war, the Scarran, Katralla and the child, even the pain he saw riding behind the desire in Aeryn’s eyes, and simply looked her, felt her in his skin, strong and deadly, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He drank her in, wanting so damned badly to tell her how he felt, how he’d felt cycles ago, but he knew that would be a mistake, so he met her eyes, brushed his lips lightly over hers, and then paused to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes were dark, her lips wet and parted, and he moved in, kissing her fiercely this time, met by her with equal lust. “We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered between kisses.
“I know, but I want you so frelling badly I can’t stop,” he responded, barely even able to form words, and that was enough.
She answered him with urgency, pulling his hips against hers, moaning when she felt the heaviness of his erection trapped between them. He pressed his weight onto her more roughly, thrusting his pelvis against hers, swallowing her moans as her tongue wrapped around his. He slid his hand around her ass to hoist her leg up around his waist for better leverage, encountered her holstered pistol, and thinking better of that maneuver, spread his hand out at the juncture of her thigh and hip. He teased her gently, his thumb stretching towards her center, and when she laughed softly at his change in direction, and shivered in pleasure, he felt a wide grin take over his face, and he backed away from her a little.
“Think we can move this to someplace a little more private, Captain?” he asked. She smiled at him wickedly, the change in her mercurial, and ran her hands down his back, squeezing his ass and parting her legs to give him more access.
“What’s wrong with right here?” she whispered silkily.
It was a bluff, a dare, and they both knew it, but his control was pretty much shot, and he’d frell her in the hallway if that was his option. He wanted her too badly to think, or to argue, or even right now to play, so in one smooth movement, he grabbed her behind the thighs, hoisted her up the wall and pressed into her again as her legs wrapped around his waist. She gasped, and smiled, and he said, “Nothing wrong with right here.”
That damned shirt with the zipper had been taunting him since this morning and he snagged the zip, and pulled down quickly. The pale line of flesh that he exposed made him groan, his cock throbbing so heavily he was sure she could count his heart beats through it. He nuzzled her sternum, her skin velvety and cool, and he turned his head to lick the underside of her breast, mouthing and nuzzling until he got enough of the fabric out of the way to draw her nipple into his mouth. She moaned, pulling his head to her breast, and arching her neck, hitting her head on the back of the wall, and started to giggle. It was the most marvelous sound he’d ever heard, her laughter light and low and sparkling and she relaxed her thighs and slid down his body as he made room for her.
“Your quarters?” she asked, with an arch of her brow, zipping up her top.
The lights were low, the troops having found a way to channel the electricity into certain areas of the palace without lighting it up like a fourth of July parade. He followed Aeryn into his quarters, nervous now, still hard, still lost, but more in control, determined to make this right. He made sure the door was locked and then turned towards her. That tightening was back around her mouth, and he wanted to brush it away, distract her with warm mouths and passion. He was barefoot, had showered and changed into his loose workout gear after leaving Teyvn and Anix after confronting the Empress.
She was about his height with her boots on, but so slender it was hard to believe she could kill him without breaking a sweat. He never forgot it though. A woman kicks your ass that many times, takes more than 16 cycles to get over it. He smiled at her, following through on the effort to just exist in this moment, revel in this opportunity which might not ever come again. She was so different from the woman who had loathed him for giving up, for giving in. She understood emotion now, had raised a child, become something amazing, although she’d been pretty amazing then as well.
Her low, sultry voice broke his reverie. “What are you waiting for John,” she asked, and he realized he’d been staring. “
You ok,” he asked, her stance, her expression no longer lost to desire.
“No,” she breathed out, almost a laugh. “But I can’t change that right now.”
He moved closer to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, cooler than his own but still such a draw of beautiful, living flesh.
“I want you,” she said, gulping against the statement. He breathed out her name, her words as teasing as a caress. He moved closer, put his hands on her hips, met her mouth again, softly drinking her in. She tried to hold him steady, hold him to her and increase the pressure, but he took her wrists in his hands, and just shook his head, placing her hands by her sides. He knelt before her then, unbuckling her boots, pulling them off along with her socks, and then reached up to unsnap her belt and untie her holster, setting them next to her boots on the floor.
She looked down at him, puzzled, but she didn’t interfere, even when he undid the snap at her waist, unzipped her pants and tugged them down her long, pale legs. He tossed them to the side, and ran his hands up the back of her calves, her knees, her thighs, lightly brushing at the curve of her ass. He tugged her briefs down further, to the edge of her pubis, and kissed her there, then kissed the joint of her thighs before nuzzling her center, breathing her in. She was so hot, musky and damp, and he slipped a finger inside her shorts, teasing at her entrance, making her groan, and himself throb.
“Take them off,” she said, and he did, happy to follow her orders in this, while she divested herself of the long sleeved shirt and stood there before him, pale and perfect. The rosiness of her desire making her skin glow, a study in contrast against the black of her hair. He sat back on his heels, trying to absorb the sight of her until she moved forward, her legs bracketing his thighs, his mouth millimeters away from her center. He leaned forward, lips and tongue and fingers knowing exactly what to do.
He kissed, and thrust, taunting her, fingers wet and slick, pumping into her as she tightened around him and he drew her clitoris into his mouth, remembering her trembling against him so many years ago, the same fight for restraint, the same frantic release, fingers in his hair, moans in her throat, tremors in her thighs and when she came with a muffled yell, he held onto her, happy to be on his knees in front of her.
She sank down onto him them, her center pressing against his cock, meeting his mouth, his arms full of her, as he laced her tongue with her own taste. Her weight pressed on his thighs, and his cock twitched against her as she pulled his shirt up from the back, scratching his skin as she struggled to get it off. He raised his arms, helping her and she dropped the shirt to the side. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back, her breasts crushed against his chest, the contact so erotic that he whimpered. He pulled at her hair, unknotting it as their mouths battled and she ground down on him, and then her cloud of black hair surrounded them, hid them from view.
“I want you, now,” she ordered, biting at his lips, trying to raise up off of him to get his pants down. He held her tightly though, teasing her, until she narrowed her eyes, and knocked him off balance. His head bounced off the floor, but he didn’t care. A Pantak jab couldn’t have knocked him out at this point, and suddenly he was naked, cool air blowing over his damp cock, and a warm hand encircling it. He jerked his hips off of the floor, calling her name, and then he was inside her, and it was everything, hot and tight and wet, the best thing he’d ever felt and she was thrusting against him, tilting her hips, using her weight and her balance to get him as deeply inside herself as possible. He bent his knees up behind her for support, holding onto her thighs and opening her further as he jerked up against her rhythm.
Anyone passing his quarters right now would have surely broken down the door in response to the ruckus they were making, but he didn’t care if the entire imperial guard walked in on him in this moment. He was naked, buried to the hilt in an equally naked, nearly orgasmic Aeryn Sun, and his life, for once, was worthwhile.
She leaned forward, changing the angle, and he gasped at the pressure. She nipped at his skin, leaving tiny stinging marks on his torso, and bit her lip as she started to thrust more quickly. Just as her release overtook her, he rolled her over, driving into her, hard and fast and rough, eliciting harsh, clawing noises form her throat, mixed with his name. He slid his shoulder under her knee, curled her leg up, and thrust with all his power. They were going to have a hell of a friction burn, but it didn’t matter. He thrust, they moved, and she threw her hands behind her head, bracing against the table at the end of the bed and he pounded into her until she clenched around him again, eyes closed, throat taut, and the black starry explosion of release crashed over him.
Chapter 18
He could feel her heart beating against his palm, taste her blood, hear the sigh of her breath as their mouths moved together, tongues drew and danced. She tilted her head, angled her lips, and his hand moved to rest in the hollow of her throat. Her mouth was so sweet, cool against him, counterpoint to his heat, and he could feel her lashes flutter against his cheek. He moaned, or she did, and it didn’t matter because this wasn’t a delicate foray into the past, or a desperate attempt to seal himself off from the world. It was a drugging, delirious moment of meeting her in the middle.
She pulled back slightly, hand resting on his chest, and her eyes were heavy and lidded. Her face was lightly flushed, pinkening across the cheekbone, and he moved his lips over the skin, tasting that blush, moving down to nuzzle at her mouth and lick the blood from her lip. She kissed him again, delving soft and quick, and then turned her head towards where Katralla lay.
John fit his head into the space between her neck and shoulder, sliding his tongue over the line of her nape. He wrapped his arm around her waist, brushed against the bare skin of her back, lost to everything but her, right here, in his arms. Not a fantasy or a dream or a hallucination, but Aeryn, live and strong, and wanting him. He repeated her action from that morning, winding his fingers into the binding of hair at the back of her skull, gently pulling until her head tilted back, exposing the curve of her throat. He pressed his lips to that spot, teased her with his tongue until her hands curled into his hair pulling so hard that his eyes watered, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The problem was solved for him when she bore done fiercely enough and jerked him away from her. She was panting, as lost in this haze of desire as he was, and he wanted to cry and rage and beg. Anything that would allow him to continue what he was doing, but all she did was whisper, “This is a mistake.”
He relaxed his hold on her hair, but shook his head. She nodded in disagreement, but rested her forehead on his, closing her eyes.
“Not here,” she said lowly, pleading. “Not here."
He felt his stomach drop as she let him go and turned away as he relaxed his grip. He watched as she left the room. He didn’t know what to do, whether to follow her, follow his heart, and other more persistent organs, or to stay, keep himself out of trouble, keep safe from the damage he knew she could do, be true to his duties and his wife. He looked down at Katralla, that decision made, bent to kiss her on the forehead, and then hurried out of the room.
Aeryn had made it around the corner and he was forced to jog to catch her. She had to have heard the pounding of his footsteps, but didn’t turn around, ignored him when he called her name, just kept walking away. He sprinted ahead and caught her arm. She tried to jerk it out of his grip, but that was the limit of his patience. Today had been, well, simply too much, and he tightened his grasp, yanked her to him and using his momentum, forced her against the wall, his hands wrapped around her upper arms, his body weight pressing her into the stone, and waiting for her to strike out against him. When she didn't, he knew that he was safe. She was letting this happen. So he shoved everything aside, the Empress, the war, the Scarran, Katralla and the child, even the pain he saw riding behind the desire in Aeryn’s eyes, and simply looked her, felt her in his skin, strong and deadly, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He drank her in, wanting so damned badly to tell her how he felt, how he’d felt cycles ago, but he knew that would be a mistake, so he met her eyes, brushed his lips lightly over hers, and then paused to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes were dark, her lips wet and parted, and he moved in, kissing her fiercely this time, met by her with equal lust. “We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered between kisses.
“I know, but I want you so frelling badly I can’t stop,” he responded, barely even able to form words, and that was enough.
She answered him with urgency, pulling his hips against hers, moaning when she felt the heaviness of his erection trapped between them. He pressed his weight onto her more roughly, thrusting his pelvis against hers, swallowing her moans as her tongue wrapped around his. He slid his hand around her ass to hoist her leg up around his waist for better leverage, encountered her holstered pistol, and thinking better of that maneuver, spread his hand out at the juncture of her thigh and hip. He teased her gently, his thumb stretching towards her center, and when she laughed softly at his change in direction, and shivered in pleasure, he felt a wide grin take over his face, and he backed away from her a little.
“Think we can move this to someplace a little more private, Captain?” he asked. She smiled at him wickedly, the change in her mercurial, and ran her hands down his back, squeezing his ass and parting her legs to give him more access.
“What’s wrong with right here?” she whispered silkily.
It was a bluff, a dare, and they both knew it, but his control was pretty much shot, and he’d frell her in the hallway if that was his option. He wanted her too badly to think, or to argue, or even right now to play, so in one smooth movement, he grabbed her behind the thighs, hoisted her up the wall and pressed into her again as her legs wrapped around his waist. She gasped, and smiled, and he said, “Nothing wrong with right here.”
That damned shirt with the zipper had been taunting him since this morning and he snagged the zip, and pulled down quickly. The pale line of flesh that he exposed made him groan, his cock throbbing so heavily he was sure she could count his heart beats through it. He nuzzled her sternum, her skin velvety and cool, and he turned his head to lick the underside of her breast, mouthing and nuzzling until he got enough of the fabric out of the way to draw her nipple into his mouth. She moaned, pulling his head to her breast, and arching her neck, hitting her head on the back of the wall, and started to giggle. It was the most marvelous sound he’d ever heard, her laughter light and low and sparkling and she relaxed her thighs and slid down his body as he made room for her.
“Your quarters?” she asked, with an arch of her brow, zipping up her top.
The lights were low, the troops having found a way to channel the electricity into certain areas of the palace without lighting it up like a fourth of July parade. He followed Aeryn into his quarters, nervous now, still hard, still lost, but more in control, determined to make this right. He made sure the door was locked and then turned towards her. That tightening was back around her mouth, and he wanted to brush it away, distract her with warm mouths and passion. He was barefoot, had showered and changed into his loose workout gear after leaving Teyvn and Anix after confronting the Empress.
She was about his height with her boots on, but so slender it was hard to believe she could kill him without breaking a sweat. He never forgot it though. A woman kicks your ass that many times, takes more than 16 cycles to get over it. He smiled at her, following through on the effort to just exist in this moment, revel in this opportunity which might not ever come again. She was so different from the woman who had loathed him for giving up, for giving in. She understood emotion now, had raised a child, become something amazing, although she’d been pretty amazing then as well.
Her low, sultry voice broke his reverie. “What are you waiting for John,” she asked, and he realized he’d been staring. “
You ok,” he asked, her stance, her expression no longer lost to desire.
“No,” she breathed out, almost a laugh. “But I can’t change that right now.”
He moved closer to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, cooler than his own but still such a draw of beautiful, living flesh.
“I want you,” she said, gulping against the statement. He breathed out her name, her words as teasing as a caress. He moved closer, put his hands on her hips, met her mouth again, softly drinking her in. She tried to hold him steady, hold him to her and increase the pressure, but he took her wrists in his hands, and just shook his head, placing her hands by her sides. He knelt before her then, unbuckling her boots, pulling them off along with her socks, and then reached up to unsnap her belt and untie her holster, setting them next to her boots on the floor.
She looked down at him, puzzled, but she didn’t interfere, even when he undid the snap at her waist, unzipped her pants and tugged them down her long, pale legs. He tossed them to the side, and ran his hands up the back of her calves, her knees, her thighs, lightly brushing at the curve of her ass. He tugged her briefs down further, to the edge of her pubis, and kissed her there, then kissed the joint of her thighs before nuzzling her center, breathing her in. She was so hot, musky and damp, and he slipped a finger inside her shorts, teasing at her entrance, making her groan, and himself throb.
“Take them off,” she said, and he did, happy to follow her orders in this, while she divested herself of the long sleeved shirt and stood there before him, pale and perfect. The rosiness of her desire making her skin glow, a study in contrast against the black of her hair. He sat back on his heels, trying to absorb the sight of her until she moved forward, her legs bracketing his thighs, his mouth millimeters away from her center. He leaned forward, lips and tongue and fingers knowing exactly what to do.
He kissed, and thrust, taunting her, fingers wet and slick, pumping into her as she tightened around him and he drew her clitoris into his mouth, remembering her trembling against him so many years ago, the same fight for restraint, the same frantic release, fingers in his hair, moans in her throat, tremors in her thighs and when she came with a muffled yell, he held onto her, happy to be on his knees in front of her.
She sank down onto him them, her center pressing against his cock, meeting his mouth, his arms full of her, as he laced her tongue with her own taste. Her weight pressed on his thighs, and his cock twitched against her as she pulled his shirt up from the back, scratching his skin as she struggled to get it off. He raised his arms, helping her and she dropped the shirt to the side. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back, her breasts crushed against his chest, the contact so erotic that he whimpered. He pulled at her hair, unknotting it as their mouths battled and she ground down on him, and then her cloud of black hair surrounded them, hid them from view.
“I want you, now,” she ordered, biting at his lips, trying to raise up off of him to get his pants down. He held her tightly though, teasing her, until she narrowed her eyes, and knocked him off balance. His head bounced off the floor, but he didn’t care. A Pantak jab couldn’t have knocked him out at this point, and suddenly he was naked, cool air blowing over his damp cock, and a warm hand encircling it. He jerked his hips off of the floor, calling her name, and then he was inside her, and it was everything, hot and tight and wet, the best thing he’d ever felt and she was thrusting against him, tilting her hips, using her weight and her balance to get him as deeply inside herself as possible. He bent his knees up behind her for support, holding onto her thighs and opening her further as he jerked up against her rhythm.
Anyone passing his quarters right now would have surely broken down the door in response to the ruckus they were making, but he didn’t care if the entire imperial guard walked in on him in this moment. He was naked, buried to the hilt in an equally naked, nearly orgasmic Aeryn Sun, and his life, for once, was worthwhile.
She leaned forward, changing the angle, and he gasped at the pressure. She nipped at his skin, leaving tiny stinging marks on his torso, and bit her lip as she started to thrust more quickly. Just as her release overtook her, he rolled her over, driving into her, hard and fast and rough, eliciting harsh, clawing noises form her throat, mixed with his name. He slid his shoulder under her knee, curled her leg up, and thrust with all his power. They were going to have a hell of a friction burn, but it didn’t matter. He thrust, they moved, and she threw her hands behind her head, bracing against the table at the end of the bed and he pounded into her until she clenched around him again, eyes closed, throat taut, and the black starry explosion of release crashed over him.
