meme ] [ for charles

[afraidofnothing]

[from here]


Cara was more than aware of his state of arousal. Not simply by the pressing of him against her, but just the flinches of trying to remain restrained, the way he bit his lip, the manner of his breathing. All these signs that were pointing to a condition that was growing more uncomfortable.

At least she assumed it was uncomfortable.

Fingertips skimmed against his arm, moving to pick his hand up gently and press it to her sternum. She guided his hand beneath the divested leather, allowing his hand to cup to her breast as she leaned in closer to him. Warm breath brushed to his ear as she spoke, "Should I take advantage of your aroused state?"



The temptation to reach out and touch her mind was growing unbearable. If he could -- he wouldn't even want to direct her, he wouldn't (maybe he would) but he could tell what she was thinking, he could know something besides the calm control of her body language.

The swell of her breast was warm in his hand. Her skin was smooth. He could feel that smoothness against every ridge and whorl. His hand wasn't still, exactly, and neither did he move without direction. His fingers brushed in fractional caresses, small muscles shifting in movement.

"Oh," he said, "I really wish you would."



The caress is allowed in the moment, she asked if he wished to touch her and he conceded with true response. Now though, her hips rolled with such subtle motions that it was mostly her weight that allowed the press of leather and taut muscle to settle against him.

Her own touch lingered against his chest, tracing downward until it reached the very interesting closures of his pants. Fingertips pushed at the closure, tugging lightly after a moment and being pleased that it seemed to come undone rather easily. The zipper seemed to be easy to maneuver and eventually her weight had to shift backwards, away from him to allow her hand to see him out. There was brief contact before she withdrew her hand.

"This is something you desire, yes?" Her hand returned to press against him, a slow - yet direct - bit of movement along him before her hand pulled away again. "Something you want from me?"



And he was absolutely still as she touched him. Wasn't breathing, wasn't moving except for the twitch of his eyelids, subdued flinches that he wouldn't let himself fully express. Only when spots started to form in his eyes did he remember to inhale, and then he did so too quickly, awkwardly.

"Would you like me to beg?" he asked, tightly.



The gasp was nearly reassuring, comforting in a way. It encouraged her motion against him to be more firm, more determined to gain another such reaction. Her head leaned in closer to his, mouth hovering over skin as she listened to his request.

"Do you think it'd be warranted?"



A tight whine, a shiver of tension. "Isn't that for you to decide?" he manages, breathlessly, trying fruitlessly to keep his hips from bucking into her grasp.



It was indeed of her choice, but she still liked to hear that it was needed, wanted, and it was evident as her hand stroked against him that clearly he was in need.

"Be still," she insisted, moving to rise up on her knees and allow the zipper of her bodysuit to be dragged down further. She peeled the leather down off of her arms, allowing her catsuit to be folded down over her sides exposing her upper half before she took her hands down to further remove his own pants, tugging them down and letting them drop to his ankles as she shoves them beneath her body still poised over him.

Her hands ghost over his skin, dropping lower until she took a hold of his erection once more. "I believe whatever I choose will be favorable to you."

Comments

[radars]

He'd never felt so helpless in his life. (No, he had; he'd felt more helpless and that was the worst moment of his life.) Correction: He'd never felt so willingly helpless before. Rolling over and submitting, when he hardly even knows this woman's name, hardly had time to feel out the tight and ruthless shape of her mind. He has to fight parts of himself, parts that say he isn't the sort to submit, he should be in charge.

He watches her, eyes wide and dark, and he jerks when she touches him again. His lips are parted, and his tongue darts out, wetting them.

"Cara," he pleads, "Cara please. Don't draw this out."

[afraidofnothing]

Her line of sight catches that quick motion of his tongue, the way his lips are damp now, and the way he nearly trembles with sudden movements at her touch.

Smirking, she removes her hand from him once more, easing off the chair she'd been kneeling on and moving to push the leather catsuit further down her body. It's only a few moments before she's bare before him, standing there gazing down at him.

"Draw what out?"

[radars]

She's beautiful, there's no doubt about it, absolutely exquisite, but his eyes are fixed on her face. Open, and honest, and absolutely drowning in need.

"I want you," he confesses.

[afraidofnothing]

The confession brings a smirk to her features. Usually it was Kahlan that drew such pure truths from men. Her methods usually required more effort to earn those words.

Rather than request more speaking from him she leaned forward teasing her mouth over his before claiming it as her own. It allowed her body to move in closer to his. The warmth of her skin radiating toward his.

[radars]

It's, plain and simple, the best kiss he's ever had.

The sensation consumes every part of him. He is so sensitive, and the brush of her tongue is enough to make him shiver. His eyes are closed, his entire being focused on this, drinking in the feel and taste and smell of her like he could drown in it.

He makes a low noise of need and he realizes, abruptly, flushing, that he's so close to the edge he's about to lose it entirely.