Walking a Mile (Semi-Closed RP)
Probably the big lesson here was not to piss of Santa. Who was apparently a vindictive bitch. Just because I may have slightly kicked his ass for crimes of the sexual harassment nature did not mean he had to take out revenge in the chocolate egg variety. Which had been sitting harmlessly on my counter when I'd wandered out to make coffee that morning. (Noonish, which was totally early for Inderlanders.)
Still in my pajamas, hair all tousled and pulled back, eyelids still sleep heavy, I probably shouldn't have even thought about eating random chocolate. But I'd figured it had come from Peter - who was still fast asleep in our bed - and hey, I never turn down chocolate. So I'd popped it in my mouth while I set about filling the coffee maker and perched on the counter waiting for it to brew.
The first change I noticed, ironically enough, was my sense of smell. One minute it was just the homey scent of coffee brewing and the next everything flashed into harsh life; the entire tent was alive with the smell of Peter and I mixed together and it filled me with some deep hunger, a sense of possession that was shocking in its complete feral nature.
It was like everything outside of me had slowed down. Like liquid grace I oozed off the counter and stalked into the bedroom. Peter's scent teased me along and my eyes were heavy now with something other than sleepiness. There was a hunger that completely took me over. All I could think about was how long it had been, how much I wanted this, how good it would feel. I had never been good at denying myself; now such a concept seemed preposterous. We both wanted it, I knew we did.
Peter was still asleep and I climbed into bed, straddling him and sliding my hands down his arms to pin them lightly above his head. Then, taking a deep aching breath of his skin, I slowly teased my lips along the crook of his neck. My heart rate increased as I could feel the blood rushing just beneath the skin. God, he tasted like sunshine and spice and some unmistakable hint of masculine leather. My hair spilled down over us as I nipped lightly at his chin, waiting for him to wake up.