handelaar | (no subject)

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[The tent was old and way too big for just two people, but he'd gotten it years ago for cheap and like hell was he gonna go buy a new one when this one did the job. Well, as long as it didn't rain - from his crouch at the entrance he looked up between the trees - still clear skies, mild weather, and a light evening breeze.

Maybe he should try to find a tarp anyway. The house might be 15 meters away but goddamnit they were camping, and if it rained they were gonna be prepared. He took a moment to stick his head back into the tent, going over all the supplies for the eleventh time... Finally pulled back and stood to light a cigarette, satisfied.]

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[Fuck, he can feel all of that slipping away but he doesn't know why so he can't fix it, has no idea how to fix it. He draws his hand back and looks at her - it's imploring. Tell him what to do and he will. Anything to fix it (or, no, just anything)]

Ned...

[ That imploring look just makes things worse, and she wants to say something but what can she say? It seems meaningless at this point. Words almost away mess them but, much to her dismay. When it comes to getting anything accomplished, one of them needs to take action. Their relationship has been based around action. Perhaps this is no different.

She gives him a determined frown before she's shifting, reaching down and under the hem of her skirt, hooking her thumbs into her panties before she's wiggling out of them, eyes locked on his as she sets them aside and moves over him, on top of him, holding herself up with her hands on either side of his head. ]

I want you. Just like this. I want the stars and the breeze and the jasmine. I want to light up the sky.

[And after all of that he's as riled up as ever, but he went over that line and now he's heels-deep into the safer side of waiting on her with a decent side dose of guilt and self-doubt. All she gets is an involuntary arch of his hips - arousal brushing against the inside of her thigh - and a glance away even as he nods. He knows, logically, but since when did logic ever factor in to how he felt about her.

Her words make his pulse sing, but goddamn he can't even meet her eyes. He shouldn't have, he went too far, they're not ready for whatever he wanted there, and it's all he can think about even if his body is screaming otherwise.

He's frustrated and he can't pinpoint it, so finally he jerks his head and looks up at her and lets all of it show.]

[ That look hits hard and it's all she can do not to look so damn upset with herself for letting him feel that way when he was just so into it a couple minutes earlier. She knows he's frustrated, so is she. Why is it no matter what they do complications always arise? Why can't it be simple? Then again... when were they EVER simple? When has it EVER been easy?

Before she knows it she's shaking her head and leaning down to him, lips brushing his lightly, kissing him sweetly as she murmurs to him. ]

I love you.

[ She does. Truly does. Despite everything that's happened in the past. No matter what happens in the future. Regardless of everything that might happen in the moment... she will love him no matter what. So she sits there on him, warm in her clothes, pulse still racing, able to feel him between her bare legs, ready to go either way, waiting for him to take the slow and steady or the impulse and heat. ]

[She says it and his hands fly to her hips, like the motion and the sensation will anchor him, even as he presses his eyes closed and takes in a shaky breath through his nose as he kisses her back. Even the kiss itself is shaky - not because his feelings are (his fingers twitch and his heart goes in his throat when she says it) - just because it's easier to tell her how he feels, that way, and he feels a lot right now. And it's nice to be able to be up front about it, in his own strange way, not forced or cornered but letting her know he's unsure because he wants to let her know.

And for now he'll simply kiss her back and rub his thumbs into her hips, using her as his center of balance to get himself re-oriented.]

[ There's a lot to decipher in such a small amount of time, the way he touches her, his haggard, shaky breathing, the way his chest heaves and hands shake on her... There's a lot there. She understands that much at least. All a response to three simple words.

She does her best to keep things steady, to counter his shakiness, trying to keep him centered and focused and keeping it slow for now, just trying to keep them relax. Build up can happen again on it's own, but not if either of them is to anxious or thrown off. It's always a fine line, a balancing act, one they have to cooperate with if they wish to be successful. She kisses him slowly, hands coming up to brush at his hair gently, settling on top of him to try and steady him as well. Perhaps if he has something to hold onto, if she can give him some assurance that she WON'T pull away again... ]

[As soon as her hands thread through his hair he leans back into the grass, into the blanket beneath. And as soon as he gets himself settled he starts up with furious, quick kisses, jerking his torso up to meet her lips and cheeks and nose and everything and it's halfway between a burst in response to her declaration and halfway because he doesn't feel close enough, doesn't feel it deserves something like I love you.]

[ And it catches her by surprise but she smiles a little, letting him get caught up in his fervor as he attacks her with kisses. He's always had silly ways of showing affection. Or at least she finds them funny-- considering that he has the smallest sense of humor that can be measured.

She knows that questioning it would only be another step backwards, so she doesn't. She lets him do as he pleases, nuzzling him ad combing her fingers through his hair, her free hand slipping between them slowly. ]

[He keeps pressing lips to skin, almost frantic at first, but the more he kisses the more relaxed he becomes until finally he can't help but focus on her hand between them, and he tries to press up and into it even as his thumbs dig in, despite himself.

And yeah, he wants her close, closer, but this is good enough for the moment. Nuzzling and brushing and the warm press of skin upon skin, letting their bodies speak where their words fail. Her lips aren't near enough, and his mouth finds its way to her neck, the motions just as wanting as the rest of him is.]

[ It's all she can do to just anchor herself and let him work out the his frantic pace. She knows that he was shaken after they stopped the first time, and she knows this is his way of steadying himself. She doesn't mind it, if there's anything that she's proven herself with... it's waiting. So she lets him work it out until she feels the physical ease against her, the motions more fluid and certain, his lips sure and wanting, letting herself fall into it with him as he kisses her neck and her hand slips lower and lower, tracing light circles around his navel. ]

[There's a burst of warm air against her neck as he huffs, surprised with how good something so simple feels and a little amused as he wonders if she's focusing there on purpose. Probably. Surely by this point she knows he reacts to that particular sensation, and with that in mind his hands finally unlock themselves from her hips to slide lower as he gives her skin a teasing little nip.]

[ The tickle she feels against her skin shoots straight between her legs, making her groan and her finger twitch just slightly. She very much knows how he reacts to that touch and the moment she feels his hands relax she lets out an internal sigh of relief. She was hoping to help him unwind, to find his rhythm again, and she knows the little things like that might just ease him back to where they were.

A shiver ripples through her when teeth graze skin, eliciting a soft sigh into his ear as her hands drift lower and lower, fumbling with his fly for a moment as she gets it undone. ]

[Her response, the sound and feel of it beneath his lips and beneath his fingertips makes his body react in turn. But it also launches a thought in mind that won't quite leave - even as her hands lower and his hips arch up on their own accord, as his own hands follow and slide down the back of her thighs, the broad span of them enough for his thumbs to press against the inside - first that maybe he's not paying her enough attention.

And that thought makes the logical progression to the musing that she's never told him too much about what she likes, or at least she's never demanded or demonstrated in the same way he has (the one time when he turned a hot shower into something lukewarm also coming to mind). On the one hand he wants to ask; on the other she sort of shot a similar idea down, and his dumbass self is both too shy and too preoccupied to bring it up.

Preoccupied with thoughts, and preoccupied with her breath in his ear and the warmth of her skin seeping through the skirt bunching as he circles his thumbs, presses in and up, and messily mouths at her neck.]

[ When it comes to what she wants she is a very simple girl. All she's ever wanted was the intimacy and the passion. She wants to feel like she's loved and wanted. It can come from a simple brush of her hair to a good hard fuck, she doesn't care so long as he loves and respects her at the end of the day. That shower though... forever a missed opportunity.

Large, wide hands cover most of the back of her thigh, his skin hot and searing against hers. And the high his thumbs drift the hotter it gets. There's nothing there to block the heat she's feeling, completely bare and open, shifting back a little and into his touch as her own hand trails lower, cupping his crotch gently, giving him a tender rub through his loosened pants, her head dipping down to brush her lips against his shoulder. ]

[Should he ask and risk messing up their routine again, should he not and just let them do what has worked so fuckin' well so far and what seems natural, inevitable... Her lips meet his shoulder and she cups him, earns a groan for it along with a sharp breath and a quirk of his hands. In that blissed-out second where she touches him one of his hands finds hers, gently grips it to press both upon the arousal straining against his underwear - demonstrating for a few moments before he's trying to guide their hands under her skirts.

Well. He always was terrible at knowing when to give up on something.]

Edited 2012-08-09 06:31 (UTC)

[ The reaction is enough to make her own breath catch and her pulse quicken. Even the smallest hint of surprise in him usually catches her off guard. It's always a pleasure to see him start to relax and unwind, especially since he's usually either stoic or grumpy. And the fact that he's responding to such light, gentle touches, it makes her feel a little more empowered-- he wants this, he wants her to touch him, and though he's guiding her hand lower, he's not trying to take back control.

She allows him to guide their linked hands under her skirt, sucking in a shaking breath in his ear before she's shifting lower, both of her hands coming down to hook into his belt loops and coax his pants down past his lips, his arousal much more obvious without all of the obstruction. ]

[He's not trying to take back control at all. In fact, he's trying to do the opposite, but maybe he should've out and out said it instead of wimping out because as soon as he starts moving their hands she takes the initiative and pulls down his trousers.

And that is almost - no, it's enough to make him abandon what he was doing. He draws his hands away, places them upon the blanket, keeps his hips as still as he can, and waits to see what she does on her own volition.]

[ Her own volition is making her shift lower and lower, leaving his pants just around his hips as she traces his length with a long, slender finger.

She can't help but glance up curiously as she teases him, watching him with soft, lidded eyes as he relaxes and submits, apparently giving her permission to do as she pleases. She doesn't mind that, not at all. If anything she loves a good tease whether she's being teased or doing the teasing herself. In this case she's all over it, she hardly gets chances to do this kind of thing. And she's a fan of build up. She knows he's already more than halfway there and she almost wants to push to see how far their limits really are. ]

[Turns out as still as he can is really, really fucking hard to handle when she does that, and in place of his hips jerking he feels like it spreads to everything else - his pulse and his breath and the fleeting tensing of his arms and chest at least.

He bites his lip, chances a glance at her, takes a breath, and steels himself all over again. While he loves watching her, meeting her eyes, seeing her take such delight in wrangling a response out of him whether she knows it or not - and in this moment she's too captivating for him to look away - at the same time he knows it'll undo him.

He's just not sure if that's a bad thing.]

[ The response he gives her only intrigues her and encourages her to go further. It's quite interesting to watch him as he struggles to hold on, to see what the slightest touch or look or kiss can do to him. Is he as interested in her responses? She can't help but wonder. But at the moment he's taking all of her vision, his fingers curling into the blanket, his chest heaving and breath hitching and eyes watching her, gazing back at her so intently...

She licks her lips as she cups him one more, giving him a rub through the thin fabric of his shorts before she's leaning down to lightly drag her tongue over his bulge, eyes never leaving him, wanting to see what he does. ]

[Even with the rub he doesn't buck, but his eyes snap shut and his fingers clench into the blankets to feel the grass beneath, wraps it all up tight and neat in the palm of his hand until the desire to passes. When he opens his eyes it's to see her lowered and then to feel her warm and hovering and touching over, across him, gaze hot, curious, heavy and weighing on him - pinning him for a moment - at the same moment the sweep of her tongue hits him and all of his desire comes out as a half-groaned breath rather than a push toward her mouth.

It's messy and careful all at once, the way he moves up to meet her. Careful not to move his hips for her sake, sloppy and scrambling and searching in the way he impatiently props his upper body up and lets his mouth hang open, shallowly breathing without giving it a thought.]

Edited 2012-08-17 06:35 (UTC)

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