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» Action Two | Cloud and Tifa «

[Morning.

Bright streaks of yellow poured inwards through cracks in tightly closed curtains, dancing over pale, bare skin and stark, blond strands. Night's chill had vanished, traveling along with the looming darkness and silence, leaving behind a warmth and bustle of sound. Birds chirped rapidly, perched precariously atop the building. An engine roared to life, children laughed as they were awoken, meeting the fresh new day with joy and vigor.

Morning.

A new day. A new start. A new chance. A new opportunity.

Everything that would normally send him startling away fell away, lost in the peaceful haze of sleep. It was strange. Feeling this warm, this at peace, this content was strange. Not startling awake suddenly, not awaking long before anyone else could so he could slip away unnoticed without the burden of questions that had no answers.

And so he gave in. Gave in and relished in the gentle lull of rest, in the sounds of soft breathing, in the comfort of her pressed in snug against him, allowing the rest of the world to fall away.]

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She felt it when he finally woke up, felt it course down through his body as the realization hit him, felt his chest rising and falling against her and she pressed her lips tightly together and stayed still, hand going still on his as well. If he ran...

if he ran she'd be waiting for him when he came back. But it would hurt. It would hurt and she wasn't sure she'd be able to ignore things a second time. She might - she might sell his bed while he was away and leave him no place to sleep except the floor - or her bed.

It was a thought she was starting to actually give serious thought to when she felt the light press of his lips to her forehead -

and everything inside of her suddenly unwound and went loose and weak like cut strings. There was even a weak sound in her exhale, something a little like relief and a little like tears. He wasn't leaving then. Not yet at least. Maybe it would hit him when he was on the road or leaving home for his first delivery but - not yet. He wasn't leaving her yet.

She might still sell his bed while he was gone...

Without a word, she turned into him more, body twisting to fit against his more completely, arms rising to wind around his shoulders. Need and welcome and hope and question. But she didn't lift her face from where it was hidden against him. Not yet. She wasn't sure she was brave enough to see what morning meant yet.

[Breath caught within the confines of his throat, lodging painfully, an immovable lump that refused to budge. Every muscle stilled, suddenly nervous, suddenly fearful, suddenly fighting the intense urge to shift, to run, to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible.

And then she settled, wrapping around him tightly with those long, slender limbs, bringing their bodies impossibly closer, each curve finding it's place and fitting perfectly. Heart pounded against his rib cage, forcefully restarting it's rapid beat, blood thrumming through his veins and sending tendrils of heat dancing down his spine.

Those lips found the warmth of her skin, dipping forward, seeking out her shoulder, her neck, her mouth, each tender press slow and linger, a silent form of welcoming her into this new day. One that found the sun shining brilliantly, the birds chirping happily.

And them together, naked and curled tightly around one around, remnants of the previous night still freshly sprinkle across their flesh, across their memories. Something sparked in his mind, some sort of rational thought, a reminder not to allow his imagination to wonder, not to allow too many of those scenes to replay too quickly, to not dwell. But it was difficult, so difficult to deny the temptation she presented when she was pressed against him as she was, when it would be so simple to continue what had began, to slip into the warmth of her.]

[She'd been very carefully keeping herself from expecting anything -

but the soft, lingering press of his lips had the wonderful relief washing through her chest and she was sighing his name, soft and low, by the time his mouth moved to cover hers. One hand slipped up to wind in his hair and she gave herself over entirely to nothing but this. Them. Her lips answering his.

Perhaps they should talk. They probably should. But his long, liquid heat kisses told her enough and she shifted to fit even closer to him, body stretching to find more of itself to feel against his skin. Last night had been secrets shared in the dark and she hadn't known if they'd be strong enough to survive in the light of the morning. His lips were in no hurry to leave the play of his though and the weak morning sunlight in the window did nothing to change that.

Downstairs there were a dozen different things that needed her attention - but, hand in his hair starting to knead gentle, she couldn't think of a single one of them. Or why any of them would be more important than this.]

[A million different things fluttered within his mind, a million different scenarios, a million different paths, a million reasons why they shouldn't, a million different things that needed their attention. None of them stood a chance when compared to her, when compared to this moment, to the way her fingers were twisted within his hair, to the way her body was pressed so pleasantly against his own, with the way her lips answered his call.

Nothing he had ever seen, nothing he had ever experienced would come close to this moment, to her. And there would be nothing else, nothing more extraordinary, more beautiful than her. As hard as he search, as hard as he looked, nothing would ever begin to compare.

They should talk, should stop this before it went to far, before it passed the point of stopping, of turning back. Both had things they needed to say, wanted to say, to ask, to know. But each touch was like a silent answer to an unspoken question, leaving little up to the imagination.

Slender fingers traveled upwards, ghosting along the mound of her hip, dipping along her waist before slipping around her back, pads tracing random patterns upon the warmth of her skin, pressing her inwards. Lips parted slowly, tongue darting out to tease at the seam of her own, gently, carefully, asking for entrance.]

[There's a soft sound, quiet in her throat at the stroke of his hand over her bare skin. Something that's the hint of a feminine purr and her body relaxes even more, melts for him even more. Like a soft blanket on a cold day, the more he touches her, the more his lips move over hers, the further away any cold reality or worries about what everything means or where it will go seem. The easier it is to simply snuggle into the warmth that's beginning to hum over her skin and through her veins again and let that be everything.

The tease of his tongue has the smile curling her lips, has that soft sound again and the nails in his hair scratch lightly down to the back of his neck and the short hair there. And her lips part in soft welcome for him, more than happy to let the worries and the past slip away for the present.

If he keeps this up, she doesn't think she's going to have it in her to break away and go downstairs to start her morning chores.

She's not very sure she wants to anyway.]

[Far too many opportunities had slipped through his fingers, simply because he hadn't been brave enough, because he hadn't had the courage to stand before he and say all of the things he thought, all of the things he felt. Last night had been a brief spark, a bright light in the darkness of night. A spark that had been fanned perfectly until it rose upwards into an unstoppable flame, feeding courage and determination until there was no turning back, was no more running away.

Something formed deep within his throat, something that was half sighing release of her name and half quiet moan, silenced as soon as it left his lips by her own. Back arched, easing himself into the bite of her nails, as if his body instinctively knew how to react to her own, instinctively knew how to urge her onward, to get more of that tantalizing touch. Soft, wet tongue snuck forward, finding her out and coaxing it into a playful dance.

[The sound in her throat was weak this time, something short and caught - and so very, very pleased. She loved how responsive to her touch he was, how he arched or bowed into it. Cloud had never needed words to tell her what he needed and that his body does so now, tells her exactly what it wants, is sweet and silly and falls deep, deep into her heart like a first snow. And her nails bit in just a little more, scratched and dragged down the back of his neck to his shoulderblades and the hollow in between them before one hand started a slow trail back up into his thick hair and the base of his head.

She could touch him. It was alright, welcome even. And in her chest her heart skipped a little in almost childish wonder and delight.

The slick dip of his tongue into her mouth though reminded her of things that weren't childish at all, reminded her of last night and other places he'd slipped into her and the sound she made low in her throat whispered out before she could think to be self-conscious and hold it back. Something dark and velvet and purring. But there was a sweetness too in the dip of his tongue, in the almost lighthearted coaxing he did with it and she responded, lips curving into a smile before her own tongue slipped out, danced lightly with his, whispered wordless happiness and contentment and pleasure that he gave her. The fingers in his hair slipped down to catch at the lock of hair that always hung against his cheek and jaw and tangled in it, as if she would keep him trapped there. Last night had been fire and whispers and secrets and she had drowned in it but this... this was like sunshine and she thought she could stretch and soak in it forever.]

[Everything was on fire, each touch igniting another flame within his skin, burning rapidly downwards and pooling, liquid heat within the pit of his stomach, muscles tightening as desire began to rise. Each touch was bittersweet relief, releasing the desperate, tight coils before rebinding them forcefully, more firmly, more painfully than before. Haze fell over his mind, clouding rational thought and ceasing it's wondering, it's questioning if this was right, if they were rushing into something without fully thinking it through, if they were giving into fickle emotions that they would regret later, once their bodies had cooled and time had settled.

But morning had come, light had washed over their sins, over acts committed in the darkness of night, and had brought with it no fear, no regret, no desire to forget.

Heart beat wildly within his chest, pounding rapidly against his rib cage as he shifted, slender fingers slipping into thick locks and tugging, guiding her backwards, tipping her head, providing the soft, wet muscle of his tongue better access to dark cavern of her mouth. Each stroke was a little more forceful, a little more like plundering than coaxing, enticing and distracting, muscles straining with an upwards movement that sent them rolling, allowing him to settle snugly upon her.]

[While the kids may be used to Cloud's odd hours and early departures before any of them are awake yet, if they keep this up, they're certainly going to notice that she's not coming down and somewhere, far in the back of her head, Tifa realizes that if this keeps up, especially if Cloud comes down with her whenever they finally do get out of bed - there's really not going to be any hiding what's happened between them.

And another, quietly insistent and stubborn part of her says that's a good thing.

It's not exactly fair to Cloud though, not pointing that out to him, giving him the choice of how blatant he wants to be but -

his fingers are winding in her hair, tugging, gently demanding her surrender and her arms wind tighter around his shoulders again when he rolls them, long, pleased and sighing sound slipping out of her as his weight settles on her, presses her down and feels exactly, perfectly, just the way it should. He's slick and hot and delicious and oh... just what she needs in her mouth and her fingers claw on his shoulders a little, press down, pressing him down into her as she answers his plundering with need of her own. Tifa doesn't usually consider herself very sensual. But, oh... he's already got the heat pooling in her stomach again, flowing thick and sluggish though her veins, dancing like electric just under her skin. Her long legs come up, curl on either side of his hips and nothing at all in her wants to let him go or give this up. She'll tell him... whatever it was she thought she needed to tell him. In a minute. She'll remember it and tell him in a minute. After she'd done being greedy and needy and spoiled beyond words.]

[Strangely, his mind hasn't yet wondered to the children, hasn't yet realized how late it's quickly becoming, how much time is rapidly passing. Hasn't given much thought to what might happen if they continue as they are, if Tifa isn't downstairs when she's meant to be. Of what would be discovered if they were to come looking for her, if they were to wait patiently until she arrived, Cloud trailing after her. That there would be no hiding what had transpired, no hiding all of the ways their relationship had changed with that one simple decision.

Perhaps it's better this way, perhaps he's better off not realizing until it's already too late, until it's already been uncovered and there's no going back, no running away. Unfair as it may seem to not have been alerted to the possibility, you couldn't worry about something you knew nothing about, something you didn't predict on your own.

Still, they should stop, should halt before it becomes too much, before it becomes too late and they aren't able. But those beautiful long leg's shift, lifting to curl around his hips and pull him inwards, downwards until the lean line of his body was pressed firmly against her own. Fingers press into his shoulders, nails digging half moon indentations into once smooth skin, holding him firmly in place and every desire to move, to resist, to stop left, flowing from heated skin like steam upon water.

Something deep claws it's way upwards, something low and rough and gravel filled as it falls from his lips, lost into the dark cavern of her mouth. Tightly wound control begins to slip, giving way to instinct, to desire, to lust. Lungs burn with a desperate need for live giving oxygen, mouth falling away from hers, swollen, tender lips seeking out and finding tender flesh, teeth nipping, scraping, before the soft, flat plane of his tongue laps against each wound, soothing the remaining ache, leaving behind a tell tale trail of angry red bruises.]

[The children are with Barret and maybe he'll take them somewhere in town after he gets them breakfast. Maybe he'll just think she's sleeping in, even if she never sleeps in.

Maybe he won't notice that Cloud's bike is still there.

And maybe, when Cloud's mouth isn't so hot and branding, when her skin isn't singing and vibrating with need and pleasure, Tifa will remember to wonder about those things. The gasp she gives when his mouth finally leaves hers is half for air, but half in need and her chest pushes against his in quick rhythm, need for air but need for him just as strong. Her head tips back for him, surrenders her throat entirely, ancient ritual and instinct and her lips stay parted, eyes squeezed closed, sounds slipping out of her, weak and soft and somewhere between delicious pleasure and aching need. Reveling in the marks he leaves on her. Oh... she's wanted him for so long... why should she be surprised she's greedy for him now that he's finally with her?

Her fingers slip up, both hands, curving into his hair, tangling tight and she knows she's already wet for him, already aching, already wanting again. Last night, he'd asked if she always called his name.

As if there was any other name she'd ever want to call.]

Cloud... [sighing and needy and thick and throaty and quiet and a thousand words all wrapped tightly into one single one.] Cloud...

[That one singular word falling from her lips was everything, air and light and sound and blinding, bone shaking, heart shattering pleasure and muscle quivering pain. The entire world was contained within that one beautiful word, an entire symphony played within that one syllable. In the way those fingers tangled into thick blond locks and tugged, back arching forward in one long, fluids press, hips grinding upwards, sharp sparks of electric energy dancing along his spine.]

Tifa - [Voice breathless, dark and rough and filled with hazy lust and desire to sink within her tight, wet heat. Something dangerous coiled tightly within his chest, liquid fire pooling low within his stomach, urging, begging.] Can I have you?

[For a morning that had started off so honey lazy, the rising sun has certainly brought an acceleration into fire and Tifa is lost in that storm. And so, so very happy to be. The grind of his hips has her whimpering, squirming, shivering. Wonderful and aching and necessary and the fingers in his hair knot and tug as her body arches for him. One night, years ago, and she'd told herself it would be enough. That one night was enough to live on.

It wasn't. Two nights wasn't either. His voice was all dark sin, shadows in her blood stream when he said her name, but when he asked...

When he asked her heart gave a thick pulse right in the center of her chest and hurt so tightly she made a sound, part inhale, part sob. How could something so sweet also be so utterly seductive and sensual? But it was and she forget all the lessons about being demure a childhood in a small town had taught her. Her eyes opened and the color was wine in candlelight.]

Yes. [A gasp, a catch in her voice, a tremble in it but] oh God, yes, please. Cloud -

[Memories of night previous rushed into his mind, played over and over and over, until it pinpointed the mirrored match of the current moment, a whispered answer to a echoing search. Then, he'd wondered, briefly, exactly what it would take to make her beg, to make her say his name in that honey rich, sinful tone and couple if with words of need, of want. To make her uncoil beneath him, to make her unravel, to fall apart and plead to be wound back together, piece by piece, until each jagged edge found one of his and formed a new, perfect horizon.

And it was everything, far better than anything his imagination could ever have conjured and far more than he ever could have asked for, sending a desperate shiver down his spine and heat flaring across his body. Once, he'd foolishly thought that one night would be enough, that calling upon those images and memories would be enough to satisfy all of the lust and need and want, that it would be enough to feed the always present hunger that only grew each time he was in her presence.

Only the opposite had occurred, and the knowledge only served to increase his desire for her. To know each place upon her body that would cause her to cry out, to recall the feeling of those slim, long lines of her as the wrapped around him, as they drew him inwards, the sound of his name falling from her lips until it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

It wasn't enough, one night couldn't possibly have been enough.

Something akin to her name fell from his lips, quiet, longing, breath catching within the tight confines of his throat as he shifted, as slender fingers traveled downwards, trailing across the flat plane of her stomach, brushing teasingly, dangerous close, only to seek out the firmness of her thigh. Lips and teeth found the tender flesh stretched tightly over a pulse point, sucking, scraping, nipping, using the attention as a distraction to ease himself forward, into that blissful wet heat.]

[They were greedy, both of them. Or maybe they'd just both been starving so long. But she couldn't go back. Couldn't go stepping backward a second time. Didn't know how she ever would let him go and pretend simply seeing him, being nearby was enough for her. It shook through her, one brief spear of wistful memory, of the past - and then it was gone. Lost in the sound of her name on his lips and the way his hand slipped down her, leaving fire and screaming nerves in its wake, sending her trembling, aching and her nails dug in when his teeth and lips closed over her skin, drew her heartbeat to the surface and sent her shuddering.

The shuddering didn't stop either, eyes rolling closed as she felt that incredible pressure and then the thick fullness of him pushing in, filling her, erasing all the empty places inside. Her mouth feel open without sound and her tight fingers in his hair pulled. Her body arched for him, legs shifting to give him more. How could it feel as if she'd been months, years, without him inside her when it had only been last night? How could she ache so strongly for him when he'd sated her completely only hours ago? But she did and it did and she groaned finally as he came home inside her. The words came out without her realizing it.]

missed you...

[Being anything less would be far too difficult when faced with such brilliant, blinding temptation, after having denied themselves and each other of it for so long. Long, sleepless nights, filled with desperation, seeking out relief for the deep ache that settled into muscle and bone. Flashes of memory and imagination weaving together, struggling to sate a hungry and lust that only grew more intensely with each passing day, until his own ministrations were no longer enough, until those bits and pieces were no longer enough, until he needed more, until he could no longer stand not having those fingers upon his skin and tangled within his hair. Until he could no longer stand to look at her without picturing each and every way he wanted her, until day dreams of pleasure filled nights where his name fell repeated from her lips began to seep into and interfere with every day.

And now he was here, partaking in the forbidden, tasting the fruit that had alluded him for so long, that he had denied himself during those long, restless hours. Buried deeply within her, sinking into the tight, welcoming heat. Fingers dug into the firm flesh of her thigh, nails scraping upwards, urging them upwards. Only hours had passed since their last encounter and this one, only hours since he'd last filled her, since he'd last felt her encase him so perfectly, since she'd last brought him into completion. But those hours felt like a lifetime and already he knew, could feel it reverberating within his blood stream, that he would never be able to deny himself of her, would never be able to be without her. Each day would be spent eagerly awaiting the fall of night and the return of to his bed, to this world that they were creating within these four walls.

Hips rolled forwards, the movement slow and testing, smooth and fluid, lips curving upwards into something smug against the fresh, pristine expanse of her skin. There was something thrilling contained with those words, at the knowledge that he had created such a feeling to rise within her, that she would miss him after such a short span of time. That she was possibly as addicted to him as he already was to her.]

Then I'll come you more often.

[She was flexible. Years of training hadn't disappeared and her legs moved easily at his coaxing, rising even as she felt the dig of his fingers and shuddered in dark pleasure at it. He was so strong, so effortlessly strong and the control he had over it thrilled her just as much as the moments he lost it. There was no fear in her over that.

But the slow roll of his hips distracted her entirely and her head tipped back, lips parting again on a shaking inhale as the feeling of him inside her, moving inside her, testing and smooth, washed over her like a wave that made everything else slip out of her mind. It felt so good and she murmured something wordless. Last night he'd indulged her, indulged them both and she was still a little sore, body so long without something that it had needed to learn to stretch again. But the roll forward, the press of him even deeper was just like the stretch of a muscle and the tension felt good. Necessary. Her toes curled and in his hair her fingers curled again as well. She knew what came next but more - her body knew. And already she gave a shiver of anticipation.

that shiver wasn't hindered by that smirk against her skin either though. She loved his smirks, had always thrived on them, even back when they'd seemed odd and unusual when he'd first come back to her. Dangerous and confident and dark sin. He knew he had her, that she was hopelessly his - and she didn't mind at all. Either being entirely his - or him knowing it. His words though - oh... he could melt her heart. Somehow he could melt her heart and set her on fire all at the same time. Her eyes opened, head tilted to look at him, warm liquid mulled wine that sank down forever. And she smiled back even as she slowly rocked her hips for him.]

Oh, yes. Yes, please, Cloud.

[Coherent thought left him, flew from his mind like a bird out of a carelessly left open window as she moved for him, against him. As those eyes found him, deep pool of liquid fire that caused his heart to skip a beat and his hips to roll forwards without his consent, body suddenly acting of it's own accord, as if answering some silent, unheard call.

She was his entirely, completely her body a wonderland, a playground for his hands to caress and touch and his mouth to feast upon, all dangerous, breath taking curves and dark, sensual warmth. There was a certain sense of pride that accompanied someone giving themselves over to you so fully, to know that you held so much of what they were within your grasp. To know her surrender, her trust, her beauty, her love and her light. To know what it felt like to bury himself inside of her, to become lost within her body and her heart.

Torturous fingers tangled deeper, tugging eagerly on thick blond strands, sending electric pulses down the length of his spine, pain twisting and morphing into pleasure. Lips sought the solid ridge formed by her collar bone, tongue swiping across it, teeth nipping at thin flesh, prideful smirk only growing with each patch of red he left in his wake. Each mark was a sign, an imprint upon her, that she had been claimed and it would be forever before she was set free.]

[She knew what he was doing. Even as distracting as he was being between her legs, she still knew what he was doing with his mouth.

And she craved it completely.

His. She'd always been his. Even before she'd realized it a part of her had gone silent and waiting for him. Even when she'd been convinced he was dead, that he'd died on some pointless campaign or due to the SOLDIER program or simply forgotten her entirely and her town, the only thing that had promised to still connect them had burned. She'd told herself he was dead and if he wasn't dead, he was dead to her because he'd never find her, or even come for her, lost in the murk of the slums.

And still a part of her had stayed silent and shut down. Waiting.

It wasn't waiting anymore and he drew quiet stuttering sounds out of her as he left his trail of marks, his possession, across her vulnerable skin. His. He was finally claiming her as his for the world to see and if he'd done it before in his own quiet way by building a family with her, this... this spoke of a different kind of claiming. And she needed that.

Under him her hips rolled for him, finding a pace that felt good, that teased slow and coaxed long. Fingers in his hair tugged and kneaded in time with those strokes inside of her and her eyes closed again as she tipped her head back into the pillow. She was his. She was his and he was hers and she wanted the whole world to know it.

Protesting his marks was the last thing on her mind.]

[Endless pleasure filled his senses, sensual and deep, like the current of a river flowing through his blood stream. Each sense was alight, burning slowly, driven forward by the constant, aching need for more, more of her and everything they could only be together.

Everything about him was coming alive, slowly awakening after laying dormant for far too long. Those fingers tangled so perfectly within his hair were like life giving oxygen, stroking and fanning the flame of desire until they were freeing the bonds that held tightly wound self control, until he could no longer find the want to hold himself back, to stop himself from giving into her completely and utterly. Falling into her was like tumbling into pure light, into an ocean compromised of a million brilliant, shimmering stars, tumbling into breath taking, heart stopping oblivion.

And he couldn't stop it even if he tried.

Long, hard, smooth teasing movements, hips rolling forward into steady, fluid motions, even as control wavered, even as his body begged to be plunged into her, into that dark, sinful place of lust and want and heat and pleasure, that place which was scared, that place which would only ever be offered to him.]

Tifa - [Voice dark, like molten chocolate, deep gravel and liquid desire.]

[She shivered when he said her name. Cloud naturally had a devastating voice and more times than she thought he'd ever know, simply listening to him talk had done everything from fill her with courage and reassurance to drive her just a little mad with want for his touch. Saying her name the way he just had however...

some dark genie had granted every woman's most intimate wish to give him a voice like that. And possibly doomed the entire female population. Or - just her. He only used that voice for her.

She wanted to hear him do that a great deal more.

So her breath caught in her throat and her eyes, hazy with lust, opened for him.

They always had turned each others names into entire sonnets.]

Cloud - [It came out sighing, low, throaty, purring and it was a 'yes'.]

[Something snapped, like a rubber band pulled and coiled too tightly, something gave, flood gates opening and rushing forward until the already flimsy grip on his remaining control slipped and faded. One singular word transformed from something ordinary into something marvelous and exquisite, into an entire language, alluring and perfect. An entire world was contained within her voice, deep, rich honey over silken velvet and he could sink into it, become lost in those sounds.

Her voice was enough to drive a man insane. To seek out hearing their name called in that tone over and over and over, growing more and more desperate as time wore on. To know that they were the entire cause, to know that their's was the only name who would ever slip from those lips like passion filled sin.

Sharp teeth sunk into tender flesh roughly, nails scraping upwards along the subtle skin of her thigh, dangerous, feral marks of his overwhelming lust and desire.]

[Her breath backed up in her throat, just for a second, when she saw the break and flare in his electric blue eyes and everything inside her jumped and quivered, pulling impossibly tight. And excited. And then he was digging into her, marking her, claiming her, fierce and male and feral, and her whole body arched in response, head falling back with a caught inhale, eyes closing tight. She gave him her throat, complete submission, pure vulnerable surrender but it wasn't passive. Instead her shoulders pushed back, arched her chest to crush against the hard, wonderful planes of his. Around him her thighs tightened, feet curling, toes digging into the backs of his legs. And her fingers curled, dug nails into him, tight as a limpet, claws of need and encouragement, pulling his hair, leaving marks that bite against one shoulder blade. Under him, her hips hitched, jerked.

Her voice shook and it was soft and a little broken. But the need in it was bare for his ears and she didn't even try to hide it from him.]

oh. yes. Cloud - yes. yes please. more?

[Sound, desperate and feral, clawed it's way upwards, releasing from swollen lips to greet the air, half pleasure filled sonnet, half deep, low keening cry. Back arched impossibly further, seeking out that brilliant pull and tug of fingers twisted tightly within his hair, that slow bite of nails against already tingling skin. Pain, sharp and bitter, transformed into something brilliant and blinding, something that send his hips snapping forward, a silent answer to her call.

As much as he was taking, claiming, easing her into that absolute, trusting surrender, he was giving, letting himself fall into her, the descent slow and maddening. Those marks were proof, etched beautifully into once pristine, pale skin, a banner for all to see that he belonged to another, that his entire being hinged on that of another.

Everything, each movement, each touch was more passionate and intense now that it was illuminated by the blazing light of the morning sun. No longer did it feel like some secret sin to be hid away in the darkness, some mistake that they had both willing taken part in, fully accepting of whatever guilt was to come. Tanned skin glowed and shimmered in the golden rays, lips glimmered with unspoken invitation.

She was even more beautiful by daylight.]

Sure you can handle it?

[That snap of his hips had the sharp shudder moving entirely through her, danced her on the edge, maddening and delicious and necessary and she keened a sound in the back of her throat. Somewhere, far away, she realized that if they kept doing this they were going to have to find a place far away from children and friends. Because if he kept doing this, if they kept doing this, she was going to scream at some point. And somewhere that wasn't just upstairs from two unsuspecting children wasn't the place for that kind of thing.

But oh -

she was going to kill him.

Because he didn't keep up that amazing thrusting and her nails tightened on him even more. The noise he'd made was maddening, inflaming and when he spoke -

her eyes dragged open, molten and it took her a moment to get the meaning of his words past the need singing through her body and the pure wicked delight of simply hearing his voice rumbling against her ears and in her chest. When it did though

her eyes narrowed.

That cocky, son of a-

There was no way she was going to manage coherent words. She couldn't even manage coherent thoughts. And they bot knew it. But she already knew her answer and it was in the way she knotted fingers in his hair to drag his head down to her, lifting her own and bit his bottom lip.]

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