latino_menace | OOM: Out

Entry tags:

fiona,
oom

OOM: Out

X was less than gracious when she released him and that's still annoying him as he heads up the stairs. But by the time he's reached Fi's room, he's let it go (or at least put it away for a while). There are more important things to think of, like making up for three weeks of incarceration or incapacity. And washing that damn place off him.

He bangs on the door hard. She wasn't downstairs (he checked) so she must be up here.

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The look of relief that floods over her face is monumental. Her own eyes brim with happy tears, and she doesn't even take the robe off, just climbs over the edge of the tub and into his arms.

That makes him smile and he shifts so that they're comfortable, kissing her deeply, his hands running up her sides and holding her there so she can't get away.

Her breath hitches as she kisses him, tiny gasps in the back of her throat.

"I thought I'd lost you."

She clings to him, holding him so tight she's shaking.

'I'm hard to get rid of.'

He lets her cling, very aware of her nearness suddenly, like he's just become aware of the fact that she's female and naked under that robe.

It's good. It's normal.

She thumps him gently, her tiny fist hitting his shoulder, making the water slosh over the edge of the tub.

"Don't make light."

He's warm and solid and he's holding her tight in his arms. He's not bleeding out in the forest, he's not in someone else's bed. He's right here.

"You called me 'caro.'"

He did. But he's not sure why that should be a Thing.

'Yes,' he says, simply, trusting that she'll explain if she wants to.

Even in the water, she can smell his skin, and after two weeks of being away from it, it's intoxicating. She leans in and inhales him deep into her lungs, like she could take away that part of him and keep it for her very own.

"You've never called me anything but my name."

She's sure it's a Thing. After all this time, it has to be a Thing.

(Please God, please let it be a Thing. She's come too far to turn back now.)

'Haven't I?'

He's thought the endearment many times. He didn't know he's never said it out loud.

'Well, I wont do it again if you don't like it.'

"No, no, I love it," she answers all in a rush. "I love it."

She presses her temple against his jaw, feeling for a brief moment like a bird with a whole french fry. It's a glorious thing, but she has no idea what she's going to do with it.

'OK.'

He just holds her for a moment, then the feel of the robe floating around and getting in the way starts to annoy him so he pushes it off her shoulders.

'Hope you've got another one of these. This one won't be much use for a few days.'

She helps, one arm at a time, the other needing to keep hold of him.

"Doesn't matter," she breathes, kissing him again, hungry and tender, edged with the same fire he always brings out in her.

He moans quietly, finding one of her tits with his hand. He's missed this.

'Buy you a...new one...' he mumbles, between kisses.

"Doesn't matter," she repeats, shifting between his knees, revelling in the feel of his palm against her soft skin. "Need you."

He nods, glad she's waited for him. If she wasn't here he'd probably be off getting into all sorts of trouble right now because he's never been the best at adjusting back into normal life after a stint being caged.

But this...this is worth staying in for. It takes him no time at all to get hard; three weeks is a long time for him to go without.

'Missed touching you,' he tells her quietly, as if it weren't obvious.

"Show me," she whispers, turning in his arms until her back is against his chest, rubbing against him like an affectionate cat. Her hands rise to weave in his hair, the curve of her bum nestled against his hips. The water makes her lighter than ever, easy just to pick up and put her where he wants her.

He can't tell her what she wants to hear. She thinks maybe she can feel it in his touch. If she closes her eyes and lets the rest of the bullshit fall away.

He hisses as she rubs against him and pushes her forward, away from him just a touch.

'Careful.'

There's a short laugh and he's squeezing his balls, pulling them away from his body a little to calm himself down.

'A week in hospital and two weeks locked up. I'm a bit trigger happy.'

Coming right away would just be embarrassing. If he was the type to really feel embarrassment.

'Got to go slow.'

She nods, turning her head to watch his face, her eyes wide.

"Anything. Tell me what you want."

If he just wanted to go to bed with a single kiss, she'd be okay with that. She's just happy he's back and wants to make it good for him.

'Just stay there.'

One hand slides around her and down between her legs, seeking out her clit. He can't concentrate properly on what he's doing because depravation is making him burn and he just needs release - but he tries, stroking her in time with the rhythm he's setting on his own rigid cock.

'It'll be better afterwards. Just let me...'

He trails off, hissing quietly again, knowing she'll let him do what he needs to.

"Yes," she croons, one hand slipping down to cover his between her legs, holding him close and guiding him. She arches in his arms, her other hand moving out to grasp the edge of the tub. Her head lays back on his shoulder, and though his hand between her thighs feels fantastic, it's his face she wants to see.

He's magnificent, and she can never get enough of watching him come undone.

Edited 2009-11-11 00:05 (UTC)

The feel of that hard nub under his fingers always twists him higher and it's no time at all before he's searching out that deep heat, sinking his fingers into her while his thumb keeps up the pressure on her clit. It's easier to keep the same motion going with both hands (up down, in out) and the pace quickens immediately; she'll be able to feel his leg muscles tense and release in time with the way he's pushing into his own fist.

Her grip on his hand tightens and her hips take over the motion, holding him still while she rocks against his hand. She can't get much range of motion, but she doesn't need it. He's holding her so tight, and she can feel the climax rising in his body, just as surely as if he were buried in her to the hilt.

Her head falls back and she goes taut as a bow in his arms, her hips bucking hard against his hand.

He'd shout if his throat would let him; instead it just comes out as long, loud, strained groan - she's coming and so is he, vibrating his hand around the head of his cock as he shoots up her back, clouding the water between them with a climax too intense to really enjoy. It's just a release of tension and he has to let go after a few seconds, his face screwed up against the pressure of it.

'...fuck.'

She goes limp in his arms, wrapping her arm around his, holding herself clear of his aching cock. She's not quite sure what just happened with him, but it didn't look like that much fun.

She lets him gentle a bit before opening her mouth, her tone soft and a bit on the worried side.

"You okay?"

'Yeah, just...too strong.'

He strokes himself down until the tension unlocks, letting him calm. Then he relaxes back in the tub, wiping her back clean then pulling her against him properly.

'It's never that good if it's been a while. Too sensitive to enjoy.'

He feels better now though. Loose again.

Her hand finds his cheek and she turns his face to hers, kissing him gently as she wipes the water off his brow.

"You're here now," she murmurs, resting against him, finally able to breathe again. "You're here with me."

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