Surrender
Title: Surrender
Author: domino43
Pairing: Conan/You
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Conan's been in a funk and you finally get some quiet time to relax together. Total beard!porn. Established relationship. PWP
Disclaimer: I don't own Conan. Or his beard. Unfortunately.
You and Conan are watching a movie, your back settled into his front with his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head. You reach up and place your hand on his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Things have been a little tense lately with his work and it's nice to just be relaxing with him. The movie you're watching isn't even very good. In fact, you didn't even intend on watching it. When you came into the living room after getting ready for bed, he was stretched out on the couch flipping through channels mindlessly. Not wanting to miss a chance for some quiet time with him you quietly sat between his legs and leaned back, nestling yourself into him. He'd stopped flipping through channels on some old 40's B-movie and wrapped his arms around you.
That was a good half hour ago. You've been sitting quietly the whole time, no words passing between you. It feels nice just sitting in his arms, his tension gone for even a little bit. Your hand slowly slides down the side of his face back down to rest on top of his hand. You feel his warm breath in your hair as he rests his cheek on your head. Neither one of you is really watching the movie, which is evident by the way he kisses the top of your head again. He carefully nudges your head to the side and kisses just above your ear. You close your eyes and he moves his lips farther down, placing a kiss just behind your earlobe. His lips find their way down to your neck. His beard tickles you, making you bring your shoulder up to push his face away for a moment. The interruption doesn't phase him. As soon as you lower your shoulder he's at your neck again. You suppress the urge to flinch as well as the urge to laugh. The torture is short, as he's already made his way over your collarbone to your shoulder. He kisses his way back up to your ear and quietly breathes, "My leg is falling asleep."
"Oh, you sweet talker, you." He lets go of you so you can sit up and he can pull his leg out from behind you. He starts to stand and you look up at him quizzically. "I thought your leg was falling asleep."
"It is. I'm trying to wake it up." He shakes it and tries to take a step and promptly falls right at you, barely catching himself before he squishes you. "Guess it was worse than I thought."
"Sit back down and let's finish the movie."
He doesn't move. "...because you're actually watching it..." He smiles that sexy little smile at you.
"Well, I want to spend some quiet time with you. We haven't really had any down time together recently."
"I can think of a way to spend some 'down time' together, but it won't be quiet." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
You grab his arm and pull him down next to you. "Sit down." He lets out a soft chuckle as he plops down. "Ass," you say under your breath. He acts hurt.
"Bitch." He pushes you over playfully then lifts your legs and places them in his lap.
After a bit of sitting like this, Conan eased himself down half on top of you, his arm wedged between you and the couch. He simply gazing at you, his eyes searching your face. After a moment you begin getting a little uncomfortable. "What?"
"Nothing." He kisses your nose, then he's back to raking his eyes over your face. This time his eyes stop at your mouth. He slowly lowers his mouth to yours. His kiss is slow and deep, needy. This isn't what you were looking for when you came in here, but this gentle affection is something that's been missing from him lately. His funk has been marked by harsh sex, his frustration showing through his kiss, even his touch. This is a welcome tenderness. You can't help but open yourself to him, returning his kiss.
His free hand finds its way to your waist, just the tips of a couple fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. When he pulls away from the kiss, you take his face in your hands and look deeply into his eyes. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry..." his violet eyes moist, the regret apparent behind them.
You hold his gaze. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for, don't be so hard on yourself." You kiss him to make your point.
He has a soft smile on his lips when you pull away. He plants a quick kiss on your lips, another on your chin before he starts working his way down your neck. Your head drops back as he leaves a trail of kisses down the front of your shirt, coming to a stop just above your navel. He pushes your shirt up over your abdomen and places soft kisses on your skin. You suck your stomach in, trying to retreat from the tickle of his beard as he makes his way to your waistband. He lays his cheek on your stomach, hugging you to him. You think he's going to stop when he slips his fingers into your waistband and begins pulling your pants off as he sits up.
He has this far-off look in his eyes, yet he's completely focused on what he's doing. You don't say anything as you watch him. His hands slide up your legs until he reaches your panties, hooking his fingers into the sides and sliding them off easily. You lie there still, naked from the waist down as his eyes skim over you. He repositions himself between your legs as you anticipate his next move. your whole body on edge.
You can feel the ridges on his fingers, calloused from his guitar playing, as they glide over your skin, inching ever so slowly up your legs, gently parting them as they reach your inner thighs. You close your eyes to try and keep your already shallow breathing under control.
You jump at the unexpected scratch against your inner thigh. You feel his hot breath on you just before his lips make contact. Your sense of touch is suddenly keen on every little bit of contact he makes, every nerve ending ablaze; the scratch of his whiskers all over your most intimate spots, his lips, his tongue, invading you. Your hands grasp the couch, your back arching, granting him full access to you. Your skin tingles where his bristled cheeks and chin touch, rub, grind. Almost as if he knows, he stops and grazes his cheek along your thigh before continuing his assault.
A jolt of electricity shoots up your spine, followed quickly by a small shudder. You tangle your fingers in his crimson locks, urging him on. Soft moans escape your throat as he focuses his efforts on the small bundle of nerves at the center of his attention.
You grip the cousion under you as your whole body tightens. You hold your breath as your body wracks beneath him, wave after wave of heat with each shudder that courses through your body. One last shudder and your body goes limp, your ragged breath returning.
Your eyes are still shut as his hands skim over your torso, pulling your shirt off. Your head drops and you finally open your eyes to look at him. He's blazing a trail of hot kisses up your body where his hands just were. You're tuned in to every touch, every whisp of hot breath on your skin. The slightest touch of his beard on the taut buds of your nipples sends a shock through your breasts. You're so close to another orgasm, you clamp your eyes shut, focusing everything on your self control. He notices, you know he notices, because the next sensation you have is his chin raking down over your breast slowly, his beard burning lines of tingling heat that he soothes with is kiss. His movement is torturously slow over your nipple, no kisses to aleviate the burn. It's all you can do to keep your cool, keep yourself from seizing beneath him again. His delicious torture stops and you force your eyes open. He's smiling down at you, enjoying every bit of rapturous torment he's causing you. There's only one thing you can do.
"Please," you beg, your voice a hoarse whisper. You know he wants to. You can feel him through his sweats.
He seems intent on torturing you. Lowering his head for a kiss, he presses himself against you. Despite the strained material between you, you raise your hips to meet his. You can't take it anymore. You reach your hands hungrily at his pants, trying desperately to free him. He answers your need by grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. All you can manage is a whine of disappointment.
He buries his face in your neck, rubbing his cheek along your jawline, continuing his dry-humping. The cloth against your skin and the scrape of his beard on your jaw hurtle you closer and closer to a climax. Before you can stop it, another set of shudders wracks your body beneath his.
You whine piteously and look at him, begging him with your eyes. He grants you a pardon from further torment and lets your hands go as he reaches between your bodies. He springs free from his prison and enters you slowly. This torture you can stand. You don't want him to move too quickly, you're already so close to the edge, every deep stroke threatens to send you headlong into the abyss.
He goes slowly now, letting you catch your breath, letting your nerves settle a bit. But not too much. Just as you begin to enjoy your respite, his pace quickens and his strokes become harder, more urgent.
A few more quick pumps and a grunt and a liquid heat fills you. And that's all it takes. Your knees clamp around his hips like a vice and your hands grip the back of his shoulders as another round of spasms rock you. The tension leaves your body and you melt into the couch, Conan's body limp against yours as you both catch your breath.
He places a few gentle kisses on your face before lifting his head to look at you. You sweep some strands of hair off his sweat covered brow and return his gaze. His eyes are finally calm, no more frustration, no more regret, just the love you're used to. You smile at him and kiss his forehead before hugging him to you.
Author: domino43
Pairing: Conan/You
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Conan's been in a funk and you finally get some quiet time to relax together. Total beard!porn. Established relationship. PWP
Disclaimer: I don't own Conan. Or his beard. Unfortunately.
You and Conan are watching a movie, your back settled into his front with his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head. You reach up and place your hand on his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Things have been a little tense lately with his work and it's nice to just be relaxing with him. The movie you're watching isn't even very good. In fact, you didn't even intend on watching it. When you came into the living room after getting ready for bed, he was stretched out on the couch flipping through channels mindlessly. Not wanting to miss a chance for some quiet time with him you quietly sat between his legs and leaned back, nestling yourself into him. He'd stopped flipping through channels on some old 40's B-movie and wrapped his arms around you.
That was a good half hour ago. You've been sitting quietly the whole time, no words passing between you. It feels nice just sitting in his arms, his tension gone for even a little bit. Your hand slowly slides down the side of his face back down to rest on top of his hand. You feel his warm breath in your hair as he rests his cheek on your head. Neither one of you is really watching the movie, which is evident by the way he kisses the top of your head again. He carefully nudges your head to the side and kisses just above your ear. You close your eyes and he moves his lips farther down, placing a kiss just behind your earlobe. His lips find their way down to your neck. His beard tickles you, making you bring your shoulder up to push his face away for a moment. The interruption doesn't phase him. As soon as you lower your shoulder he's at your neck again. You suppress the urge to flinch as well as the urge to laugh. The torture is short, as he's already made his way over your collarbone to your shoulder. He kisses his way back up to your ear and quietly breathes, "My leg is falling asleep."
"Oh, you sweet talker, you." He lets go of you so you can sit up and he can pull his leg out from behind you. He starts to stand and you look up at him quizzically. "I thought your leg was falling asleep."
"It is. I'm trying to wake it up." He shakes it and tries to take a step and promptly falls right at you, barely catching himself before he squishes you. "Guess it was worse than I thought."
"Sit back down and let's finish the movie."
He doesn't move. "...because you're actually watching it..." He smiles that sexy little smile at you.
"Well, I want to spend some quiet time with you. We haven't really had any down time together recently."
"I can think of a way to spend some 'down time' together, but it won't be quiet." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
You grab his arm and pull him down next to you. "Sit down." He lets out a soft chuckle as he plops down. "Ass," you say under your breath. He acts hurt.
"Bitch." He pushes you over playfully then lifts your legs and places them in his lap.
After a bit of sitting like this, Conan eased himself down half on top of you, his arm wedged between you and the couch. He simply gazing at you, his eyes searching your face. After a moment you begin getting a little uncomfortable. "What?"
"Nothing." He kisses your nose, then he's back to raking his eyes over your face. This time his eyes stop at your mouth. He slowly lowers his mouth to yours. His kiss is slow and deep, needy. This isn't what you were looking for when you came in here, but this gentle affection is something that's been missing from him lately. His funk has been marked by harsh sex, his frustration showing through his kiss, even his touch. This is a welcome tenderness. You can't help but open yourself to him, returning his kiss.
His free hand finds its way to your waist, just the tips of a couple fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. When he pulls away from the kiss, you take his face in your hands and look deeply into his eyes. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry..." his violet eyes moist, the regret apparent behind them.
You hold his gaze. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for, don't be so hard on yourself." You kiss him to make your point.
He has a soft smile on his lips when you pull away. He plants a quick kiss on your lips, another on your chin before he starts working his way down your neck. Your head drops back as he leaves a trail of kisses down the front of your shirt, coming to a stop just above your navel. He pushes your shirt up over your abdomen and places soft kisses on your skin. You suck your stomach in, trying to retreat from the tickle of his beard as he makes his way to your waistband. He lays his cheek on your stomach, hugging you to him. You think he's going to stop when he slips his fingers into your waistband and begins pulling your pants off as he sits up.
He has this far-off look in his eyes, yet he's completely focused on what he's doing. You don't say anything as you watch him. His hands slide up your legs until he reaches your panties, hooking his fingers into the sides and sliding them off easily. You lie there still, naked from the waist down as his eyes skim over you. He repositions himself between your legs as you anticipate his next move. your whole body on edge.
You can feel the ridges on his fingers, calloused from his guitar playing, as they glide over your skin, inching ever so slowly up your legs, gently parting them as they reach your inner thighs. You close your eyes to try and keep your already shallow breathing under control.
You jump at the unexpected scratch against your inner thigh. You feel his hot breath on you just before his lips make contact. Your sense of touch is suddenly keen on every little bit of contact he makes, every nerve ending ablaze; the scratch of his whiskers all over your most intimate spots, his lips, his tongue, invading you. Your hands grasp the couch, your back arching, granting him full access to you. Your skin tingles where his bristled cheeks and chin touch, rub, grind. Almost as if he knows, he stops and grazes his cheek along your thigh before continuing his assault.
A jolt of electricity shoots up your spine, followed quickly by a small shudder. You tangle your fingers in his crimson locks, urging him on. Soft moans escape your throat as he focuses his efforts on the small bundle of nerves at the center of his attention.
You grip the cousion under you as your whole body tightens. You hold your breath as your body wracks beneath him, wave after wave of heat with each shudder that courses through your body. One last shudder and your body goes limp, your ragged breath returning.
Your eyes are still shut as his hands skim over your torso, pulling your shirt off. Your head drops and you finally open your eyes to look at him. He's blazing a trail of hot kisses up your body where his hands just were. You're tuned in to every touch, every whisp of hot breath on your skin. The slightest touch of his beard on the taut buds of your nipples sends a shock through your breasts. You're so close to another orgasm, you clamp your eyes shut, focusing everything on your self control. He notices, you know he notices, because the next sensation you have is his chin raking down over your breast slowly, his beard burning lines of tingling heat that he soothes with is kiss. His movement is torturously slow over your nipple, no kisses to aleviate the burn. It's all you can do to keep your cool, keep yourself from seizing beneath him again. His delicious torture stops and you force your eyes open. He's smiling down at you, enjoying every bit of rapturous torment he's causing you. There's only one thing you can do.
"Please," you beg, your voice a hoarse whisper. You know he wants to. You can feel him through his sweats.
He seems intent on torturing you. Lowering his head for a kiss, he presses himself against you. Despite the strained material between you, you raise your hips to meet his. You can't take it anymore. You reach your hands hungrily at his pants, trying desperately to free him. He answers your need by grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. All you can manage is a whine of disappointment.
He buries his face in your neck, rubbing his cheek along your jawline, continuing his dry-humping. The cloth against your skin and the scrape of his beard on your jaw hurtle you closer and closer to a climax. Before you can stop it, another set of shudders wracks your body beneath his.
You whine piteously and look at him, begging him with your eyes. He grants you a pardon from further torment and lets your hands go as he reaches between your bodies. He springs free from his prison and enters you slowly. This torture you can stand. You don't want him to move too quickly, you're already so close to the edge, every deep stroke threatens to send you headlong into the abyss.
He goes slowly now, letting you catch your breath, letting your nerves settle a bit. But not too much. Just as you begin to enjoy your respite, his pace quickens and his strokes become harder, more urgent.
A few more quick pumps and a grunt and a liquid heat fills you. And that's all it takes. Your knees clamp around his hips like a vice and your hands grip the back of his shoulders as another round of spasms rock you. The tension leaves your body and you melt into the couch, Conan's body limp against yours as you both catch your breath.
He places a few gentle kisses on your face before lifting his head to look at you. You sweep some strands of hair off his sweat covered brow and return his gaze. His eyes are finally calm, no more frustration, no more regret, just the love you're used to. You smile at him and kiss his forehead before hugging him to you.