Fanfiction: Taking It Slow
NC-17 Content Warning
They’re laughing softly as her back hits the bed. She can’t stop kissing him, touching him, even as together they undress each other. They laugh again when their fingers get tangled together at his belt. Now that they’re here, they’re impatient. She’s been impatient all day long. All she’s wanted is to taste his mouth again, to feel his lips soft and firm against hers. She’s addicted to him, every part of him.
She groans softly, tilting her head back for him as his mouth moves down her neck. His hands roam her body, touching her chest, her waist, her hips. She lets her own hands wander the expanse of his back, hips restlessly moving underneath his. She aches for him, but he’s in a mood tonight. His hand lightly cups a breast, thumb just brushing back and forth across her nipple. She trembles, moaning. She pushes her chest up into his hand, wanting more pressure, but he keeps his touch light.
“Relax, Constanza,” he whispers in her ear, playfully nipping at the lobe. “Just enjoy. Let me take care of you.”
She knows he’ll take care of her, she just wants it now not later. “Please.” She whispers as his mouth moves lower, “Please.”
He chuckles again, kissing down the valley between her breasts, “I’ll take care of you.” She trembles in anticipation. His hand is moving lower, trailing under her breast and down her rib cage. She looks down at him, meeting his eyes as his mouth hovers over her breast. He smiles, the type of smile that makes her close her eyes and moan. He doesn’t leave her waiting. His lips close around a nipple and her back arches. His other hand slides around her back, holding her up as he works her breasts with his mouth.
How long has she wanted this? It feels like too long. How had she ever gotten by before now without his hands and mouth on her body? How had she ever gotten along without him in her life? The need for him is startling, but comfortable. Like a good surprise. She runs her fingers through his hair, the short black strands just long enough for her to hold on to for an anchor as he slid his fingers through her folds.
He teases at first, just running a finger up and down with little pressure. She whimpers, hips jerking forward. She aches so much, she can only think of making it stop even though making it continue would be so good.
“Please.” It’s the only word she can get passed her lips, besides his name, but whenever she says it he does just what she needs. So she keeps repeating it, even as he eases one finger inside her and abandons her breasts to kiss over her stomach.
She bites her lip, gripping his hair tighter. She prays he’s going where she thinks he’s going or else she just might go up in flames. She feels so hot, her skin so tight, and his mouth and tongue are cool and wet. She feels every kiss he trails over her stomach, and trembles at his breath over her curls.
“Constanza…” he groans like he’s enraptured.
“Please, Harry, please.” She pleads, looking down at him kneeling between her legs. His eyes meet hers, the look in them hot, hungry. She understands that look completely. She needs him too. He lowers his mouth, the tip of his tongue just touching her…
… and she wakes up on a gasping moan. Murphy sprawls out in bed, her eyes tightly closed so she can hang on to the sensations of the dream. Her unconscious mind is very good at remembering details and feelings. In this case, she doesn’t know whether to be angry about that or grateful. It may just have been a dream, but it felt so good. Good enough to leave her frustrated and wanting the real thing, which is why she wants to curse her unconscious. Sometimes, taking it slow really sucked.
They’re laughing softly as her back hits the bed. She can’t stop kissing him, touching him, even as together they undress each other. They laugh again when their fingers get tangled together at his belt. Now that they’re here, they’re impatient. She’s been impatient all day long. All she’s wanted is to taste his mouth again, to feel his lips soft and firm against hers. She’s addicted to him, every part of him.
She groans softly, tilting her head back for him as his mouth moves down her neck. His hands roam her body, touching her chest, her waist, her hips. She lets her own hands wander the expanse of his back, hips restlessly moving underneath his. She aches for him, but he’s in a mood tonight. His hand lightly cups a breast, thumb just brushing back and forth across her nipple. She trembles, moaning. She pushes her chest up into his hand, wanting more pressure, but he keeps his touch light.
“Relax, Constanza,” he whispers in her ear, playfully nipping at the lobe. “Just enjoy. Let me take care of you.”
She knows he’ll take care of her, she just wants it now not later. “Please.” She whispers as his mouth moves lower, “Please.”
He chuckles again, kissing down the valley between her breasts, “I’ll take care of you.” She trembles in anticipation. His hand is moving lower, trailing under her breast and down her rib cage. She looks down at him, meeting his eyes as his mouth hovers over her breast. He smiles, the type of smile that makes her close her eyes and moan. He doesn’t leave her waiting. His lips close around a nipple and her back arches. His other hand slides around her back, holding her up as he works her breasts with his mouth.
How long has she wanted this? It feels like too long. How had she ever gotten by before now without his hands and mouth on her body? How had she ever gotten along without him in her life? The need for him is startling, but comfortable. Like a good surprise. She runs her fingers through his hair, the short black strands just long enough for her to hold on to for an anchor as he slid his fingers through her folds.
He teases at first, just running a finger up and down with little pressure. She whimpers, hips jerking forward. She aches so much, she can only think of making it stop even though making it continue would be so good.
“Please.” It’s the only word she can get passed her lips, besides his name, but whenever she says it he does just what she needs. So she keeps repeating it, even as he eases one finger inside her and abandons her breasts to kiss over her stomach.
She bites her lip, gripping his hair tighter. She prays he’s going where she thinks he’s going or else she just might go up in flames. She feels so hot, her skin so tight, and his mouth and tongue are cool and wet. She feels every kiss he trails over her stomach, and trembles at his breath over her curls.
“Constanza…” he groans like he’s enraptured.
“Please, Harry, please.” She pleads, looking down at him kneeling between her legs. His eyes meet hers, the look in them hot, hungry. She understands that look completely. She needs him too. He lowers his mouth, the tip of his tongue just touching her…
… and she wakes up on a gasping moan. Murphy sprawls out in bed, her eyes tightly closed so she can hang on to the sensations of the dream. Her unconscious mind is very good at remembering details and feelings. In this case, she doesn’t know whether to be angry about that or grateful. It may just have been a dream, but it felt so good. Good enough to leave her frustrated and wanting the real thing, which is why she wants to curse her unconscious. Sometimes, taking it slow really sucked.