Not Everything
By: Divine Joker
CATEGORY: PWP
WARNINGS: Sexual Situations
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This
could really be anyone - there are no names mentioned - but I wrote it thinking
of Daniel and Vala. Mostly ‘cause I think that in the end, Daniel is just going
to *snap* and do exactly what it is that she’d been implying FOREVER.
Enjoy, though un-beta‘d. I wrote it all in 20 minutes. And feedback is my life.
It was such a change in pace that she couldn’t even catch
her breath. Nothing could have warned her that he was even thinking of…well,
that.
Her breath finally caught up with her in a rasping gasp, gathered through the
muffling effect of his lips against hers. He let her go for a short second and
then crushed against her again, pressure forcing her lips apart as he journeyed
into her mouth and tasted. Her brain still trailing behind the reaction of her
body, her hands fisted into the tight cotton of his shirt and her right leg
wrapped around his thigh, awkwardly pulling him against her.
They couldn’t force a word out edgewise, trying to catch their breath and
devour each other at the same time.
It was violent and coming from a man who was so passionate about his beliefs,
to have him come to her in such a fierce fire was amazingly erotic. Her blood
flushed to her skin and everything was hot; his touch and his breath and the
pull of fabric as it was raised off of her burned.
She could feel the need to touch him pooling in her fingertips and the
smoothness of his skin shocked her as her touch traveled from his clothed
shoulder to his hands. She felt him flex his fingers against her side and then
they were moving feverishly to finish divesting each other of clothing.
He hissed into her shoulder before nipping her. Finally getting his pants to
fall to the floor, she curled her fingers into his hair and pulled, roughly
dragging his mouth to hers. Their tongues clashed and his teeth bumped into
hers and she could feel fire skipping down along her spine. Arousal blinded her
and nothing could have distracted her from his touch.
Everything about her being was focused on the rough push of his body against
hers. She dropped her hand and drew her fingers along the length of his
erection, growling at the responding brush of teeth over her nipple. Arching
into his all-consuming touch, her world blackened into nothing but the pull of
his tongue against her skin. He moved to her other breast, attacking her skin
with the same desire as if he were a dying man on his last breath.
She could feel her body building under his attack, a soft pinnacle reached and
plundered before she could control her hands enough to drag him against her,
into her and with her. He started, jerking at the sudden reality of finding
himself inside of her and his hands slammed against the wall behind her. Her
thigh hiked higher against him, tighter and she hissed in satisfaction as he
pushed deeper into her.
“Not how I was expecting this,” he hissed against her cheek, his day-old
stubble sparking contrasting nerves on her skin.
She groaned and let her head fall back against the cold cement. For several
long moments she let herself ride with him; the push and pull of something long
desired melting into a wave of pure, complete bliss.
“This is exactly how I wanted you,” she threw out, catching his stumbling body
as his legs gave out under him.
They crashed to the floor, unceremoniously clawing over each other to find
their lost rhythm.
Straddling him, finding him inside of her again, she stared down at him, her
hair shadowing his face, but leaving his eyes perfectly visible. “Not everything
is romance,” she growled, a rough movement forcing his eyes to roll back into
his head.
Shocking her, his hand reached out and cupped her cheek, a soft look flooding
his features. “Not everything is final.”
For a woman content in her iron will, it shattered her in more ways that one.
Her body splintered under the long restrained arousal, pulling her skin in a
million different directions. Her blood flooded her ears and she arched to try
and accommodate the flood of endorphins that plowed along her spine and
demanded her entire focus.
In the declining rush, she could see the look of surrender wash over his
features and she forced herself to watch the transformation of the normally
restrained man releasing everything he held dear for a long moment of
uncontrolled pleasure.
It was beautiful, she thought.
He was beautiful.
Her hearing returned to find him regaining his breath and with a sigh his
looked to her and silently appraised her.
Her emotions crashed under the intense scrutiny and she felt the gathering
flood of tears.
He only smiled and drew a tender thumb across her cheek.
“Not everything is final.”
** The End **
Feedback to: divinejoker28@yahoo.ca
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