"ICOE" Chapter 24 Extended Scene
Yugioh Extended scene from "Each Ecstatic Instant"
Seto/Anzu
“In your office? Really?” she teased. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
He gave her a dark, sexy little smirk and she felt a shiver run down her spine. “Maybe another time.”
One hand absently played with his collar. He was wearing a button-down shirt in dark, dark purple; she had bought it for him and it was one of her favorite things he owned. “Well…” She smiled, holding back the nervous swirling that was mixing with desire in the pit of her stomach. “Are you done working?”
“I certainly can be.” One hand gently kneaded her upper thigh, moving tiny bit by tiny bit higher. His eyes were intently locked with hers, and if the world was on fire around them she wouldn’t have been able to look away.
He pushed her to her feet and grabbed her hand, kissing her forehead. “Did you see Mokuba when you were downstairs?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I’d guess he’s in his room.”
He kissed her for half a second then said against her mouth, “Good. I did threaten him, but he said he couldn’t make plans at such short notice.”
They were travelling down the hall; Seto was leading, keeping a firm grip on her hand. He squeezed once and she swore she could feel electricity in every finger. “I don’t mind that he’s here - I think he realizes you’ll kill him if he bothers us.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Seto shut the door behind them. His arms went around her immediately and his mouth attached itself to her neck. There was a heady, half-ticklish feeling as he gently pulled at her skin, those pearly, perfect teeth biting a line from her ear to her shoulder.
She’d half-expected him to bother with pretense - act as though they were there for some other reason, take things slow, just at first. Which, in retrospect, was something of a silly idea to entertain, since when Seto wanted something he just tended to take it.
“I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he whispered hotly, nose tracing her clavicle, “waiting all day to get you in my arms.” One large hand stroked her belly. She’d grabbed the other, and their fingers were laced together, resting on her hip. “I thought about champagne… candles… roses…” He’d moved back to her ear, sucking the lobe teasingly. “But we both know I’m not romantic - and you don’t deserve a lie.”
She turned in his arms suddenly, wanting better access, wanting that mouth at her ear to move to her own. He mashed her body against his, kissing her with new ferocity and reckless, wild abandon. It felt amazing, better than before - no longer held back by any restrictions or concerns. He pushed her hard against a wall, his hands skimming over her body, lips dancing across her jaw line. She tangled one hand in his hair, pulling hard when a hand brushed roughly over a breast.
He growled lowly and she realized he liked it. She moaned raggedly at the thought, and he pressed against her just a little harder. One hand traced the curve of her side while the other roughly cupped her breast over her clothes. The whole of her chest was on fire, pulsing from the bruising, blindingly unsatisfactory touch; the two layers of cloth were thick and coarse and so confining - she wanted to feel his smooth, soft skin against her own. Sensation was starting to overwhelm her; her neck craned up, head back as he pressed hot, wet kisses along her neck with a sensuous, open mouth.
A leg pushed itself between hers and a hot, hard thigh pressed upwards. Her hips rocked against it, her dress riding up as she shamelessly rubbed against him. She bit her bottom lip and her nails bit into his shoulder. When her mindless, fumbling fingers began trying to undo his shirt, he pulled away and in the next instant her dress was half-way off. It was thrown to the floor and as he walked backwards, leading them towards his bed, her bra was quick to follow. Both hands expertly covered her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, sending broad, electric waves jolting down her body.
A warm, soft hazy feeling fluttered around her as she lay down, her feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Seto stood at the foot, slowly undressing. Had any man every been that beautiful? She traced his body with her eyes: shoulders, strong, slim biceps, graceful hands. Neck, pectorals, flat, pale stomach, and...
Her eyes shut when his body came down to cover hers - and then his hot, eager hands tugged down that one, last lacy garment. He threw her panties off to one side and stilled, drinking in the sight of her bare form pale against the fabric of his bed. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathed, captivated by the sight of her naked and open before him. He'd seen her without clothes before, but never... never quite like that. Anzu squirmed, restless under the pressure of his gaze.
She felt exposed - more naked than he was, his eyes burning her, branding her; he looked as though he were a starving wolf salivating over a fresh, bloody slab of meat. But at the same time she felt revered: precious and divine. His attention was welcomed, and she felt her most feminine, her most powerful - like a goddess before her most pious, devoted worshipper.
Seto leant down further, kissing her stomach. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers moving in deft, gentle strokes. Her breath caught as he kissed further down her body. Her body shook, like a string tightly wound, as he kissed a circle around the jut of her hipbone. He murmured something against her skin, his hand moving over - softly, slowly - to the wailing heat between her legs. Her body was screaming, aching for him: just to touch her. With slow, deliberate strokes, his fingers traced the wet seam of flesh.
Her breath came in pants, knots coiled and taut all in her abdomen, every inch of her body sensitive and tight. "Seto..." she whispered, head rolling back, "Mmm... please."
And he knew that he had her wound up, had her so aroused and aching that she could hardly breathe. One finger slipped inside her, then another - his eyes locked on her face, every moment of reaction more intoxicating, more delicious than the last.
Coherent thought was impossible, and Anzu stopped trying to string the thick, viscous ideas spinning in her head into anything more than meaninglessness. Seto had her singing, had that warm, swirling feeling wrapping around her, a vortex above her, and between every atom of every element of every cell that she was built with. His hand was a sweet substitute for her own; just the thought of him touching her so intimately, the idea he wanted her as much as she wanted him, that he wanted her to feel what he was giving her, while he was lifting her higher and higher and higher and higher and higher...
When she broke apart, shattering like glass, spasms spanning her body, he couldn't take another minute of being beyond her - and he climbed up, demanding her mouth, muffling the sweet sounds he'd evoked... kissing her like she was air and life and absolutely necessary to exist even one second more. She responded slowly, coming out of her hazy, ecstatic fog - tasting him as he tasted her, hands running down his body, memorizing skin and muscle and every plane of him.
He pulled her knee up along his side, spreading her legs. Their eyes locked for a moment; that familiar fire was no longer banked - instead an inferno that she trembled to know she had caused. He was so close; with every inhale her chest brushed his.
Something was smoldering between them. Unable to stand it, she leaned up and kissed him again. He pulled away and she chased his lips, wanting more contact, wanting more, more, more from the man above her.
That snapped whatever tennuous hold he had on himself, and with a grunt he sank into her body. Her legs wrapped around him, ankles locked at his back, his bony hips digging into her inner thighs.
He was whispering things she'd never heard him say, things that made her moan, that turned her face red with shame and pleasure - obscenities that were so, so sweet.
Her body moved with the force of him as he crashed into her like a wave, hot and strong and hard. Hands clawed at his back, ripping skin, drawing blood - he grew more erratic, voice breaking into grunts and sighs. She felt a change, a surge. Crawling up her legs, she felt tingles, bright and bold and lighting every nerve on fire.
She screamed his name as she drowned, the cosmos bursting into nothingness all around her.
And a moment later he followed. Both drained and dazzled - the most beautiful, satiated sort of death.
~~~END~~~
-And if you care to read a little explanation/few notes/etc. I have this:
There is a reason I usually don't write smut, and I think everyone can now see what it is. Well... No, I've actually read much worse, so I know I'm not horrible - but I get obsessed with characters, so it's weird for me to explore their sex lives. Also, as I'm sure anyone who's read just about anything I've written knows, I deal with thoughts and feelings more than actions. So that makes it difficult for me, because this is so physical. How far do I describe? Should I do my usual vague half-trippy emotional whirlpool description? (That's how I see it, anyway.) So yeah. Don't know how that worked...
I sort of stayed with Anzu's POV, and I think that was definitely the right choice. I tried hard to keep them both in character, but I had a harder time than I was expecting with Seto. I think he'd be a selfish lover, and he'd be as ruthless as in the business world - at least normally, but at the same time he knows how much the night means to Anzu, so there's this whole other element of caring that I had to show. I mean, I see him fierce and growly and all "Rawr - naked lady. *pounce*." He's a cold person and obviously values his personal bubble, and you almost never even see him touch Mokuba; so someone would have to be deemed really worthy to get the privilege of touching him (or he'd have to just really need to get laid), which is why Anzu's feeling like a goddess. Because he almost sees her as one; I see him really conscious of how she's feeling and reacting - he wants to just please her and blow her mind and... well, it's sort of the final glue to the relationship, when he realizes that he really could spend the rest of forever making her happy.
Sort of. Sappy, I know. Geez, I didn't put this much thought into it when I did the actual writing... I have brain-a'splosion when I write, and I just wipe off the goop and have finished product. Right...
Anyway, I apparently take writing smut far more seriously than I should. Constructive criticism is VERY VERY VERY (note the stress there) appreciated. As are questions, comments, and lavish praise.
~~~
-ILB
Seto/Anzu
“In your office? Really?” she teased. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
He gave her a dark, sexy little smirk and she felt a shiver run down her spine. “Maybe another time.”
One hand absently played with his collar. He was wearing a button-down shirt in dark, dark purple; she had bought it for him and it was one of her favorite things he owned. “Well…” She smiled, holding back the nervous swirling that was mixing with desire in the pit of her stomach. “Are you done working?”
“I certainly can be.” One hand gently kneaded her upper thigh, moving tiny bit by tiny bit higher. His eyes were intently locked with hers, and if the world was on fire around them she wouldn’t have been able to look away.
He pushed her to her feet and grabbed her hand, kissing her forehead. “Did you see Mokuba when you were downstairs?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I’d guess he’s in his room.”
He kissed her for half a second then said against her mouth, “Good. I did threaten him, but he said he couldn’t make plans at such short notice.”
They were travelling down the hall; Seto was leading, keeping a firm grip on her hand. He squeezed once and she swore she could feel electricity in every finger. “I don’t mind that he’s here - I think he realizes you’ll kill him if he bothers us.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Seto shut the door behind them. His arms went around her immediately and his mouth attached itself to her neck. There was a heady, half-ticklish feeling as he gently pulled at her skin, those pearly, perfect teeth biting a line from her ear to her shoulder.
She’d half-expected him to bother with pretense - act as though they were there for some other reason, take things slow, just at first. Which, in retrospect, was something of a silly idea to entertain, since when Seto wanted something he just tended to take it.
“I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he whispered hotly, nose tracing her clavicle, “waiting all day to get you in my arms.” One large hand stroked her belly. She’d grabbed the other, and their fingers were laced together, resting on her hip. “I thought about champagne… candles… roses…” He’d moved back to her ear, sucking the lobe teasingly. “But we both know I’m not romantic - and you don’t deserve a lie.”
She turned in his arms suddenly, wanting better access, wanting that mouth at her ear to move to her own. He mashed her body against his, kissing her with new ferocity and reckless, wild abandon. It felt amazing, better than before - no longer held back by any restrictions or concerns. He pushed her hard against a wall, his hands skimming over her body, lips dancing across her jaw line. She tangled one hand in his hair, pulling hard when a hand brushed roughly over a breast.
He growled lowly and she realized he liked it. She moaned raggedly at the thought, and he pressed against her just a little harder. One hand traced the curve of her side while the other roughly cupped her breast over her clothes. The whole of her chest was on fire, pulsing from the bruising, blindingly unsatisfactory touch; the two layers of cloth were thick and coarse and so confining - she wanted to feel his smooth, soft skin against her own. Sensation was starting to overwhelm her; her neck craned up, head back as he pressed hot, wet kisses along her neck with a sensuous, open mouth.
A leg pushed itself between hers and a hot, hard thigh pressed upwards. Her hips rocked against it, her dress riding up as she shamelessly rubbed against him. She bit her bottom lip and her nails bit into his shoulder. When her mindless, fumbling fingers began trying to undo his shirt, he pulled away and in the next instant her dress was half-way off. It was thrown to the floor and as he walked backwards, leading them towards his bed, her bra was quick to follow. Both hands expertly covered her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, sending broad, electric waves jolting down her body.
A warm, soft hazy feeling fluttered around her as she lay down, her feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Seto stood at the foot, slowly undressing. Had any man every been that beautiful? She traced his body with her eyes: shoulders, strong, slim biceps, graceful hands. Neck, pectorals, flat, pale stomach, and...
Her eyes shut when his body came down to cover hers - and then his hot, eager hands tugged down that one, last lacy garment. He threw her panties off to one side and stilled, drinking in the sight of her bare form pale against the fabric of his bed. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathed, captivated by the sight of her naked and open before him. He'd seen her without clothes before, but never... never quite like that. Anzu squirmed, restless under the pressure of his gaze.
She felt exposed - more naked than he was, his eyes burning her, branding her; he looked as though he were a starving wolf salivating over a fresh, bloody slab of meat. But at the same time she felt revered: precious and divine. His attention was welcomed, and she felt her most feminine, her most powerful - like a goddess before her most pious, devoted worshipper.
Seto leant down further, kissing her stomach. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers moving in deft, gentle strokes. Her breath caught as he kissed further down her body. Her body shook, like a string tightly wound, as he kissed a circle around the jut of her hipbone. He murmured something against her skin, his hand moving over - softly, slowly - to the wailing heat between her legs. Her body was screaming, aching for him: just to touch her. With slow, deliberate strokes, his fingers traced the wet seam of flesh.
Her breath came in pants, knots coiled and taut all in her abdomen, every inch of her body sensitive and tight. "Seto..." she whispered, head rolling back, "Mmm... please."
And he knew that he had her wound up, had her so aroused and aching that she could hardly breathe. One finger slipped inside her, then another - his eyes locked on her face, every moment of reaction more intoxicating, more delicious than the last.
Coherent thought was impossible, and Anzu stopped trying to string the thick, viscous ideas spinning in her head into anything more than meaninglessness. Seto had her singing, had that warm, swirling feeling wrapping around her, a vortex above her, and between every atom of every element of every cell that she was built with. His hand was a sweet substitute for her own; just the thought of him touching her so intimately, the idea he wanted her as much as she wanted him, that he wanted her to feel what he was giving her, while he was lifting her higher and higher and higher and higher and higher...
When she broke apart, shattering like glass, spasms spanning her body, he couldn't take another minute of being beyond her - and he climbed up, demanding her mouth, muffling the sweet sounds he'd evoked... kissing her like she was air and life and absolutely necessary to exist even one second more. She responded slowly, coming out of her hazy, ecstatic fog - tasting him as he tasted her, hands running down his body, memorizing skin and muscle and every plane of him.
He pulled her knee up along his side, spreading her legs. Their eyes locked for a moment; that familiar fire was no longer banked - instead an inferno that she trembled to know she had caused. He was so close; with every inhale her chest brushed his.
Something was smoldering between them. Unable to stand it, she leaned up and kissed him again. He pulled away and she chased his lips, wanting more contact, wanting more, more, more from the man above her.
That snapped whatever tennuous hold he had on himself, and with a grunt he sank into her body. Her legs wrapped around him, ankles locked at his back, his bony hips digging into her inner thighs.
He was whispering things she'd never heard him say, things that made her moan, that turned her face red with shame and pleasure - obscenities that were so, so sweet.
Her body moved with the force of him as he crashed into her like a wave, hot and strong and hard. Hands clawed at his back, ripping skin, drawing blood - he grew more erratic, voice breaking into grunts and sighs. She felt a change, a surge. Crawling up her legs, she felt tingles, bright and bold and lighting every nerve on fire.
She screamed his name as she drowned, the cosmos bursting into nothingness all around her.
And a moment later he followed. Both drained and dazzled - the most beautiful, satiated sort of death.
~~~END~~~
-And if you care to read a little explanation/few notes/etc. I have this:
There is a reason I usually don't write smut, and I think everyone can now see what it is. Well... No, I've actually read much worse, so I know I'm not horrible - but I get obsessed with characters, so it's weird for me to explore their sex lives. Also, as I'm sure anyone who's read just about anything I've written knows, I deal with thoughts and feelings more than actions. So that makes it difficult for me, because this is so physical. How far do I describe? Should I do my usual vague half-trippy emotional whirlpool description? (That's how I see it, anyway.) So yeah. Don't know how that worked...
I sort of stayed with Anzu's POV, and I think that was definitely the right choice. I tried hard to keep them both in character, but I had a harder time than I was expecting with Seto. I think he'd be a selfish lover, and he'd be as ruthless as in the business world - at least normally, but at the same time he knows how much the night means to Anzu, so there's this whole other element of caring that I had to show. I mean, I see him fierce and growly and all "Rawr - naked lady. *pounce*." He's a cold person and obviously values his personal bubble, and you almost never even see him touch Mokuba; so someone would have to be deemed really worthy to get the privilege of touching him (or he'd have to just really need to get laid), which is why Anzu's feeling like a goddess. Because he almost sees her as one; I see him really conscious of how she's feeling and reacting - he wants to just please her and blow her mind and... well, it's sort of the final glue to the relationship, when he realizes that he really could spend the rest of forever making her happy.
Sort of. Sappy, I know. Geez, I didn't put this much thought into it when I did the actual writing... I have brain-a'splosion when I write, and I just wipe off the goop and have finished product. Right...
Anyway, I apparently take writing smut far more seriously than I should. Constructive criticism is VERY VERY VERY (note the stress there) appreciated. As are questions, comments, and lavish praise.
~~~
-ILB