Better Left Unsaid (9/12)
Title: Better Left Unsaid (Part 9/12)
Author: snoopy0917
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Rating: MA
Timeline: Crossroads Part 1 through Escape Velocity
Summary: There were the things Laura Roslin wanted and the things Laura Roslin needed. In a simpler world they would have overlapped. Instead, they stood in stark, irreconcilable conflict.
A/N: Honestly, so many people have had a hand in shaping little parts of this fic, I don’t even know where to start with my gratitude. Huge thanks go to icedteainthebag and i_am_davnee for betaing, and for zaleti and larsfarm77 for reading it through and giving me some insightful comments. And to flamingo55 and unavitasegreta for reading through bits and pieces ages ago and offering opinions. And to tjonesy who with a stray comment a year ago, prompted me to turn this short story into a very long and much more complex one. And a second thank you to i_am_davnee for keeping me sane over the last eight months. It means the world to me.
All the remaining mistakes within the fic are mine and mine alone. I probably ignored some good advice or something. :D
I don’t own the characters. If I did, I’d have a lot more money. However, the story is all mine.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
They weren’t together as often as they’d like. They were both busy, cylons and supplies and Baltar and the Quorum and Earth taking precedence over their physical desires. They didn’t have the time they did on New Caprica - long lazy days when they could enjoy each other’s company without pressure and without responsibilities.
But that wasn’t just it. And they both knew it.
They’d been busy after the Exodus. Hectic and overscheduled and more in demand than they’d been since the initial attacks. But they’d still found time. They’d made time. Scheduled unnecessary meetings and snuck away for stolen quickies - sating their need whenever they could.
And then they didn’t have the luxury of living together.
She was slower to arouse now, body refusing to keep pace with the wants and needs of her mind. Before it seemed like she was always ready for Bill. Like it only took a few words, looks, touches, and she was wet and aching for him to fill her.
But as her illness progressed and the treatments laid waste to her body, it was growing harder and harder to focus on the desire thrumming deep inside her soul. Her wants and needs hadn’t changed. She still savored each knowing caress of her body. Still thrilled to feel his strong limbs vibrate with need. Still loved feeling him, thick and pulsing as he moved inside her.
But her body couldn’t keep up. The threads of arousal took longer awaken and wind through her limbs. Some days she was lucky if the tendrils formed at all.
Bill never mentioned it. Never protested or complained or offered sincere sympathy that would sour her stomach. He looked at it as a challenge. Watched her signs and signals and read her so well. He found the times when the illness receded and her body could respond. He devoted hours to cultivating her arousal until it consumed her from within.
And she was wet tonight. He’d made sure of it.
He’d noticed the glint in her eye that morning. The bright spark when she’d kissed him awake. The slight lilt in her step as she’d dressed. The appraising look she’d given him when he wandered out of the shower. The lingering touches they’d shared over breakfast.
Bill took advantage of her mood. Nurtured it. Encouraged it. Sat too close during their meetings. Pitched his voice lower than necessary on the phone, husky rumble playing at secrecy and hinting far more than he should on an unsecured line. He’d grinned smugly at the slight flush on her cheek when she’d come home. Had stripped her, kissed her, touched her until the dulled arousal blossomed into a consuming blaze.
It was a good day.
Laura fidgeted against the damp sheets. Pale skin flushed and sweaty as she writhed on the narrow mattress. As he shifted between her legs, focusing on another tiny part of her that was surely never this sensitive before.
He was obsessed with her sex. He always had been, always eager to settle himself between her thighs and explore the textures of her body. But now he was enraptured, completely fascinated by her hairless state. He’d known she was bare, known the treatments had stripped the hair from her entire body, not just her head. But he hadn’t comprehended the reality. Or, perhaps, realized how enticing he’d find it.
She’d never forget the look on his face when he’d shed the last of her clothing and looked at her, fully naked for the first time since the cancer. For the first time in months. He’d frozen at her feet, cramped into the edge of his bunk. His eyes wide, mouth opened just slightly, just enough for him to suck in deep breaths.
He’d looked for a long time. Just looked. His fingers had absently traced her calves, lightly swirling across her muscles before gripping her knees and spreading them out and up. Opening her legs, her thighs, her wetness for him as he inched closer, angling her for a better view.
She'd grown almost uncomfortable under the intense stare. Had squirmed against the mattress at his rapt examination of her body and the near tangible feel of his eyes.
She’d looked different than he remembered. She’d known he wouldn’t mention the weight she’d lost. The sharp edges replacing her curves. The almost sickly pallor of her skin. The bare, hairless state of her body.
She’d been completely naked under his gaze. It had been almost unnerving.
She’d lifted up on her elbows and glared at him. Had moved to scoot back up the mattress and sit up. To close her legs, cover herself, and pull him towards her. To blanket herself with Bill and hide the changes in her body.
Warm palms had caught her ankles, stopping her movements with a gentle tug and a shake of his head.
“What?” she’d snapped, masking her insecurity with annoyance.
The look in his eyes had told her all she needed to know.
Breathless, she’d slowly leaned back as he began to touch her. His hands had been firm as they spread her thighs wider. His voice had thickened as he told her how sexy she looked. His fingers had trembled every so slightly as they reached out to skate along the edges of her labia, relearning her with torturously slow strokes.
He hadn’t needed the practice.
He still didn’t.
She was greedy tonight. Demanding and needy as she arched into his precise hands and insistent lips. Limbs pliant as he maneuvered her into whatever position he wanted. Nerves vibrating as he worked her over and set her skin aflame.
Blood thrummed through her veins. The delicious ache between her thighs was already overpowering, banishing all measure of control and sense from her mind. Her body was humming. Tingling. Alive.
Hot breaths tickled her thigh, the overly sensitive flesh wet from his mouth and her slickness. He turned, scratching his stubbled chin across the tender skin before suckling the seam of her body, marking her, red and angry, where thigh met pelvis.
She reached for him, hands grasping at his tousled hair, trying to angle him, to pull him, to lure his mouth back to where she wanted it. He chuckled again, catching her eyes as he shook his head free and replaced his mouth with his fingers.
Her head dropped back to the pillow in frustration, hips subconsciously inching down the mattress towards him. He ignored her irritation, patiently tracing intricate patterns against her pelvis, well-placed thumbs skirting the very edges of her wetness, spreading it, painting it across her skin and grinning as it glistened. His intent, infectious smile crept across his lips as he lowered his mouth to her folds and began torturing her all over again.
Bill loved oral sex. She’d never met a man who didn’t. But Bill loved giving just as much as receiving. Maybe even more. He loved spreading her out before him and exploring her arousal. Loved losing himself in texture and scent as he tasted her. As he nipped and sucked and gave her pleasure.
It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it had. It was such an intimate act. So careful, so precise, so earthy and passionate. So much more involved than just frakking.
And he was so damn good at it.
He knew it too. She’d scold him for being so damned smug but he deserved it. He could wring the most exquisite sensations from her body with the slightest move of his tongue. Could rip the most uninhibited noises from her throat, playing her until she lay beneath him in a quivering puddle of blissed-out nerves. He always could, even the very first time.
He’d studied her carefully, taking his time as he opened her thighs and spread her flesh. A determined look and a nimble tongue had pinned her to the mattress. Keen eyes had catalogued each reaction, memorizing what each lick, each nibble, each swipe of his tongue did to her body.
It was almost a game as he sought out every last nerve ending she possessed. He was challenging himself. To see how quickly he could shatter her into pieces with a few clever flicks of his mouth and hands. To see how long he could prolong the act, reducing her to a whimpering bundle of sensations, writhing against his tongue. To see how hard her could make her come, how loudly he could make her scream.
Not that she was about to complain. Especially not when he’d get that devilish glint in his eye and dip his head between her thighs.
He’d gone down on her every chance he’d gotten. Savored the lazy nights hidden away in his rack or splayed out on the nest of blankets in the center of her tent. Plotted stolen afternoons when he could tip her across his couch or desk and slowly work up her skirt.
Though her favorite times were when he’d splayed her out in the grass next to her lake, soft strands of grass tangling in her hair and pricking her back through the blanket. Bright sun warming her already hot skin. Breeze swirling around them, cooling her slick skin, rustling Bill’s already messy hair.
He’d liked that too. Especially when she’d dropped her head back and called his name into the open sky.
She dug her nails into Bill’s scalp, whimpering as he increased his rhythm, wordlessly demanding her attention.
His tongue swirled flat against her labia before dipping deep within. His groan filled her when her tang exploded on his tongue, vibrations dancing through her flesh, curling her toes and arching her back as he hungrily tasted her. He worked eagerly, fingers taking over from his tongue, mouth trailing messily up her wetness to lap at her clit. Her hips jerked into his lips when he latched onto a new spot, sparks flying through her at the unexpected sensation.
“There, Bill.”
“There?”
He repeated the caress. Her head slammed back into the pillow, hips grinding up into his tongue.
“Yes. There.”
His finger slid deeper inside her, first soon joined by a second. Thick digits stretched her, pressing insistently up, angling carefully until they stroked against just the right spot.
“S'good?”
“Yes…” she hissed, syllable sticking in her throat. Eyes squeezing shut as she lost herself to the sensation.
“Good.”
Her breathing quickened, humming sigh growing in volume as his fingers crooked upwards and rubbed insistently. As his mouth sucked harder on the spot he’d found, tongue swirling and lapping hungrily. She dug her fingers into the sheets as her thighs began to twitch. As she writhed into his touch. As he refused to relent this time, working her fervently until she bucked against him, gasping his name and shuddering through her climax.
Gods, he was good at this.
Her head rolled to the side, eyes firmly shut, chest heaving as her pulse slowed. She detangled a hand from the sheets and reached for him, blindly knotting her fingers into his hair and tugging him towards her.
Her hand fell weakly back to the mattress when he planted an elbow next to her thigh and pushed himself up. She hummed contentedly when he peppered her thighs with kisses, before nudging her knee with his nose.
“Hey.”
She turned her head into his rough voice, opening heavy eyelids to look at him. He grinned back, hot breath burning her slick skin.
“Hey.”
Soft hands soothed the still-trembling muscles of her thighs. Thick fingers calmed her with such delicate touches. Stained her sweaty skin with sticky trails of her own wetness. She was too relaxed to care.
The gentle caresses centered her as she sank into the mattress, limbs thrumming happily. He stroked her until she began to squirm, her still heated skin needing more, craving more contact, more sensation, more Bill.
“Laura?” The very tips of his fingers traced up and down the very inside of her thigh, demanding her attention. His eyes searched hers, serious and sincere as he asked softly, “Can you take more?”
She smiled lazily as she processed his words. As she silently assessed the state of her body. As she watched him watch her, his keen look knowing her answer long before her smile curled into a smirk.
“Someone’s greedy tonight,” she teased, crinkling her nose as his eyes dropped back between her legs, as his fingers swirled through her still humming wetness.
He traced the edges of her labia, circling her with wide strokes. Tickling her with little swipes that never quite reached far enough.
“That a yes?”
His fingers danced up her center, whispery touches branding the seam of her entrance, barely fondling her clit before retreating back to the sensitive skin near her thighs.
“It’s a yes.”
“Good.”
Bill pushed up onto his hands and crawled up her body, towering over her for a long moment. She moaned again at the visual stimulus, at the sight of his strong arms flexing and cording next to her head. The muscles rippled as he leaned down and kissed her, sharing her flavor with lazy swipes of his tongue.
She gripped his arms, groaning happily as the hairs of his forearms tickled her palms. She slid them up to his shoulders, savoring the hard feel of his muscles under her hands, pressing her fingers into the impressive definition of his biceps before looping her arms around his shoulders and deepening the kiss.
Bill grunted in surprise before tilting his head and opening to her, tongue dancing against hers as she pushed into his mouth and kissed him until her lungs burned for air.
“You taste good,” he murmured against her lips.
“No, I don’t,” she shook her head with a short giggle, licking the remnants of her taste off their lips. The sweet, sticky-sourness mixed with the intoxicating flavor of Bill’s mouth, tempering the tang into something almost appealing.
“Yeah, you do.”
She groaned as his tongue pushed back into her mouth. Her legs lifted to loop around his waist, soft cotton of his boxer briefs sticking to her skin as she tried to pull his weight atop her. His broad palms dropped to cradle her hips and press them into the mattress.
Bill chuckled, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, a dangerous look darkening his face as he took in her wide eyes and flushed skin. He kissed her lips lightly, nuzzling the now swollen skin before extracting himself and resituating between her thighs.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, shifting to reach for him and coax him back up within reach. She wanted more. Wanted to kiss him, suck him, frak him. Wanted to feel his body trembling over hers.
“Later, Laura.”
One hand anchored her stomach. The other twisted around her thigh, lifting and opening her. Flashing her a cocky grin, Bill buried his face back between her legs. Eased her back into the sensation with playful little licks. Intense delight lit his eyes as he teased her.
She spread her legs further under his fevered touch, thigh muscles burning as they stretched and tightened under his deliberate fingers.
He took his time.
Bill was always so intense. Always made the act so sensual, refusing to be rushed no matter how much she wanted it. No matter how much she begged. He anchored her in the little details. In the tiny minutiae that richened the experience.
His hand massaged soothing circles into her thigh, and she felt her own wetness coating sweaty skin. She gasped reflexively. He grinned into her, wicked look searing her eyes as he started over, nipping and licking intricate patterns across the soft skin of her legs. Patiently playing her body, working his way up towards her center, tasting her flesh with lips, tongue, and teeth before settling before finally, finally dropping back between her legs to lap at her core.
He tasted her intently, tongue pushing deep inside of her wetness, stroking messily against her walls. He eagerly worked his jaw, pushing as far as he could inside of her before pulling back and gently nuzzling her folds.
He hadn’t shaved that morning. Day old whiskers scraped and tickled against her bare skin. One side burned her deliciously, the other prickled in a way that made her ache. He raised an eyebrow when her hips jerked under his cheek, gasping hum vibrating through her body. He began to tickle her with his cheek and jaw, tactically drawing the line of stubble against her skin, grinning as she writhed beneath him, shying away from the contact one moment and seeking it out the next.
It was a bit rougher than she preferred but felt so ridiculously good. Laura couldn’t help but giggle as the stray thought danced through her mind. Bill’s mustache had been much softer than his stubble…
“Having fun?” he rasped, grin widening at her groaning nod. “Tickles?”
“Not exactly,” she smiled crookedly, squirming as his fingers began tracing across her folds again. Broad petting strokes that spread her wetness, soaking her. Light touches that had her squirming almost immediately. It was so strange without the hair. She was so much more sensitive, nerves sharpened, heightened to a peak that she’d never known.
His grin deepened as he read the truth from her eyes.
“Maybe I should grow it back,” he murmured speculatively, swiping his fingers along the seam of her labia, spreading her delicately from bottom to top before swirling wide circles around her clit.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“You’re just worried that you’d never get out of bed.”
“I’m just worried that I’d have to look at it.”
Smirking he kissed her clit again, rewarding it with a broad flick of his tongue before turning his cheek and scraping lightly across the nub. Her thighs twitched when he scratched just right, a sharp gasp escaping her lips before she could stop it.
She could feel his chuckle against her skin. The matching grin slid across her lips without her consent, widening as his fingers slowly slipped back inside her.
“Though, it had its moments…” she admitted breathlessly.
Bill smirked again, nipping playfully at the quivering tendons of her thighs. She countered, slowly skating her hands up her sides, skimming her curves until she could cup her breasts. She moaned thickly at their heavy feel. At the sharp points of her nipples. At the slack-jawed look on Bill’s face.
He was transfixed, hands and mouth stilling for long moments as she flicked and rolled her nipples. He recovered with a sharp grunt, hooking his fingers inside her and curling her toes.
“I’m growing it back,” he growled into her skin, nipping messily around his hand.
“And be out of uniform?” Her voice thickened as she began to roll her nipples in time with his rhythm. “But Admiral, what will your superior say?”
“Not much if I’m using it to eat her out…”
Bill’s grin was blinding. He curled his free hand around her thigh, pushing her legs even further apart, branding her folds with his words as he lowered his mouth back to her clit.
Sensation bled together as he sucked eagerly, tongue and teeth hungrily working her clit as his fingers stroked inside of her. Laura cried out again, biting sharply into her lower lip to muffle the sound. Her hips bucked restlessly into his mouth, rolling thrusting, trying desperately to increase the contact, to intensify the pleasure.
She almost screamed when his hand retreated to trace her outer lips again.
“Laura…”
His voice was lower than she’d ever heard it. Dark and smoky as his breath rasped against her wetness. She swallowed roughly, dropping her head back and humming lustily before meeting his eyes. Before rolling her hips towards him, back arching into his hand as he stroked her. Breasts thrusting into her own palms as she pinched her nipples hard. Bill grunted again at the sight, turning his head and messily sucking her inner thigh.
“Yeah, Bill?”
His fingers glistened as they traced up and down her labia, whispery touches taunting her trembling nerves.
“This place is soundproof,” he told her, slowly burying his fingers back inside her.
“Yeah?” She gasped, propping herself up as much as she could. "So?"
“So you think you can give it some volume this time?”
She giggled again, shaking her head fondly as she watched his fingers and tongue slide through her wetness, tingling in her body becoming almost unbearably good.
“I wasn’t loud enough before?” she deliberately rolled a nipple, groaning as sensation spiked through her
His hand, firm and deliberate against her thigh, pulled her eyes back to his.
“I wanna hear you, Laura.”
The way he looked at her was enough to steal her breath. He was intent, focused like she was the only thing in the universe. Like he could happily study her body, her flesh, her arousal for the rest of his days.
“And it's frakkin hot when you scream.”
Her laugh turned into a moan as Bill curved his fingers upward. Her voice reverberated loudly in the quiet room, but Bill loved it. He grunted against her at the sound, thrusting his fingers with a little more force. Sucking her clit back into his mouth and eating her with abandon.
She wanted to touch him. Wanted to run her hands all over his body, dancing across the flex of hard muscle. She wanted to taste him, to drink the sheen of sweat of his skin, to bite at his nipples and kiss across the uneven plains of his stomach. She wanted to suck him, to coax him up her body and maneuver them into a tangle of arms and legs and sex. To strip off his boxer briefs along the way and fill her mouth with his dick. To suck him off as he ate her, drowning herself in scent and tang and wetness and pleasure and sensuality and Bill.
She didn’t have the strength to pull him up her body. She couldn’t stop him even if she’d wanted too. It felt too good. It was too much. Bill was unrelenting between her thighs, needily taking what she would give him. Demanding it. Savoring and treasuring every last moment.
Laura let go as best she could. Loosed her throat and let the sensations wash over her. Bill needed to hear her. Needed to know her reactions. Needed to know how much she loved this.
It was a good day.
And he deserved as many of those as she could give him.
She didn’t have many left.
Author: snoopy0917
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Rating: MA
Timeline: Crossroads Part 1 through Escape Velocity
Summary: There were the things Laura Roslin wanted and the things Laura Roslin needed. In a simpler world they would have overlapped. Instead, they stood in stark, irreconcilable conflict.
A/N: Honestly, so many people have had a hand in shaping little parts of this fic, I don’t even know where to start with my gratitude. Huge thanks go to icedteainthebag and i_am_davnee for betaing, and for zaleti and larsfarm77 for reading it through and giving me some insightful comments. And to flamingo55 and unavitasegreta for reading through bits and pieces ages ago and offering opinions. And to tjonesy who with a stray comment a year ago, prompted me to turn this short story into a very long and much more complex one. And a second thank you to i_am_davnee for keeping me sane over the last eight months. It means the world to me.
All the remaining mistakes within the fic are mine and mine alone. I probably ignored some good advice or something. :D
I don’t own the characters. If I did, I’d have a lot more money. However, the story is all mine.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
They weren’t together as often as they’d like. They were both busy, cylons and supplies and Baltar and the Quorum and Earth taking precedence over their physical desires. They didn’t have the time they did on New Caprica - long lazy days when they could enjoy each other’s company without pressure and without responsibilities.
But that wasn’t just it. And they both knew it.
They’d been busy after the Exodus. Hectic and overscheduled and more in demand than they’d been since the initial attacks. But they’d still found time. They’d made time. Scheduled unnecessary meetings and snuck away for stolen quickies - sating their need whenever they could.
And then they didn’t have the luxury of living together.
She was slower to arouse now, body refusing to keep pace with the wants and needs of her mind. Before it seemed like she was always ready for Bill. Like it only took a few words, looks, touches, and she was wet and aching for him to fill her.
But as her illness progressed and the treatments laid waste to her body, it was growing harder and harder to focus on the desire thrumming deep inside her soul. Her wants and needs hadn’t changed. She still savored each knowing caress of her body. Still thrilled to feel his strong limbs vibrate with need. Still loved feeling him, thick and pulsing as he moved inside her.
But her body couldn’t keep up. The threads of arousal took longer awaken and wind through her limbs. Some days she was lucky if the tendrils formed at all.
Bill never mentioned it. Never protested or complained or offered sincere sympathy that would sour her stomach. He looked at it as a challenge. Watched her signs and signals and read her so well. He found the times when the illness receded and her body could respond. He devoted hours to cultivating her arousal until it consumed her from within.
And she was wet tonight. He’d made sure of it.
He’d noticed the glint in her eye that morning. The bright spark when she’d kissed him awake. The slight lilt in her step as she’d dressed. The appraising look she’d given him when he wandered out of the shower. The lingering touches they’d shared over breakfast.
Bill took advantage of her mood. Nurtured it. Encouraged it. Sat too close during their meetings. Pitched his voice lower than necessary on the phone, husky rumble playing at secrecy and hinting far more than he should on an unsecured line. He’d grinned smugly at the slight flush on her cheek when she’d come home. Had stripped her, kissed her, touched her until the dulled arousal blossomed into a consuming blaze.
It was a good day.
Laura fidgeted against the damp sheets. Pale skin flushed and sweaty as she writhed on the narrow mattress. As he shifted between her legs, focusing on another tiny part of her that was surely never this sensitive before.
He was obsessed with her sex. He always had been, always eager to settle himself between her thighs and explore the textures of her body. But now he was enraptured, completely fascinated by her hairless state. He’d known she was bare, known the treatments had stripped the hair from her entire body, not just her head. But he hadn’t comprehended the reality. Or, perhaps, realized how enticing he’d find it.
She’d never forget the look on his face when he’d shed the last of her clothing and looked at her, fully naked for the first time since the cancer. For the first time in months. He’d frozen at her feet, cramped into the edge of his bunk. His eyes wide, mouth opened just slightly, just enough for him to suck in deep breaths.
He’d looked for a long time. Just looked. His fingers had absently traced her calves, lightly swirling across her muscles before gripping her knees and spreading them out and up. Opening her legs, her thighs, her wetness for him as he inched closer, angling her for a better view.
She'd grown almost uncomfortable under the intense stare. Had squirmed against the mattress at his rapt examination of her body and the near tangible feel of his eyes.
She’d looked different than he remembered. She’d known he wouldn’t mention the weight she’d lost. The sharp edges replacing her curves. The almost sickly pallor of her skin. The bare, hairless state of her body.
She’d been completely naked under his gaze. It had been almost unnerving.
She’d lifted up on her elbows and glared at him. Had moved to scoot back up the mattress and sit up. To close her legs, cover herself, and pull him towards her. To blanket herself with Bill and hide the changes in her body.
Warm palms had caught her ankles, stopping her movements with a gentle tug and a shake of his head.
“What?” she’d snapped, masking her insecurity with annoyance.
The look in his eyes had told her all she needed to know.
Breathless, she’d slowly leaned back as he began to touch her. His hands had been firm as they spread her thighs wider. His voice had thickened as he told her how sexy she looked. His fingers had trembled every so slightly as they reached out to skate along the edges of her labia, relearning her with torturously slow strokes.
He hadn’t needed the practice.
He still didn’t.
She was greedy tonight. Demanding and needy as she arched into his precise hands and insistent lips. Limbs pliant as he maneuvered her into whatever position he wanted. Nerves vibrating as he worked her over and set her skin aflame.
Blood thrummed through her veins. The delicious ache between her thighs was already overpowering, banishing all measure of control and sense from her mind. Her body was humming. Tingling. Alive.
Hot breaths tickled her thigh, the overly sensitive flesh wet from his mouth and her slickness. He turned, scratching his stubbled chin across the tender skin before suckling the seam of her body, marking her, red and angry, where thigh met pelvis.
She reached for him, hands grasping at his tousled hair, trying to angle him, to pull him, to lure his mouth back to where she wanted it. He chuckled again, catching her eyes as he shook his head free and replaced his mouth with his fingers.
Her head dropped back to the pillow in frustration, hips subconsciously inching down the mattress towards him. He ignored her irritation, patiently tracing intricate patterns against her pelvis, well-placed thumbs skirting the very edges of her wetness, spreading it, painting it across her skin and grinning as it glistened. His intent, infectious smile crept across his lips as he lowered his mouth to her folds and began torturing her all over again.
Bill loved oral sex. She’d never met a man who didn’t. But Bill loved giving just as much as receiving. Maybe even more. He loved spreading her out before him and exploring her arousal. Loved losing himself in texture and scent as he tasted her. As he nipped and sucked and gave her pleasure.
It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it had. It was such an intimate act. So careful, so precise, so earthy and passionate. So much more involved than just frakking.
And he was so damn good at it.
He knew it too. She’d scold him for being so damned smug but he deserved it. He could wring the most exquisite sensations from her body with the slightest move of his tongue. Could rip the most uninhibited noises from her throat, playing her until she lay beneath him in a quivering puddle of blissed-out nerves. He always could, even the very first time.
He’d studied her carefully, taking his time as he opened her thighs and spread her flesh. A determined look and a nimble tongue had pinned her to the mattress. Keen eyes had catalogued each reaction, memorizing what each lick, each nibble, each swipe of his tongue did to her body.
It was almost a game as he sought out every last nerve ending she possessed. He was challenging himself. To see how quickly he could shatter her into pieces with a few clever flicks of his mouth and hands. To see how long he could prolong the act, reducing her to a whimpering bundle of sensations, writhing against his tongue. To see how hard her could make her come, how loudly he could make her scream.
Not that she was about to complain. Especially not when he’d get that devilish glint in his eye and dip his head between her thighs.
He’d gone down on her every chance he’d gotten. Savored the lazy nights hidden away in his rack or splayed out on the nest of blankets in the center of her tent. Plotted stolen afternoons when he could tip her across his couch or desk and slowly work up her skirt.
Though her favorite times were when he’d splayed her out in the grass next to her lake, soft strands of grass tangling in her hair and pricking her back through the blanket. Bright sun warming her already hot skin. Breeze swirling around them, cooling her slick skin, rustling Bill’s already messy hair.
He’d liked that too. Especially when she’d dropped her head back and called his name into the open sky.
She dug her nails into Bill’s scalp, whimpering as he increased his rhythm, wordlessly demanding her attention.
His tongue swirled flat against her labia before dipping deep within. His groan filled her when her tang exploded on his tongue, vibrations dancing through her flesh, curling her toes and arching her back as he hungrily tasted her. He worked eagerly, fingers taking over from his tongue, mouth trailing messily up her wetness to lap at her clit. Her hips jerked into his lips when he latched onto a new spot, sparks flying through her at the unexpected sensation.
“There, Bill.”
“There?”
He repeated the caress. Her head slammed back into the pillow, hips grinding up into his tongue.
“Yes. There.”
His finger slid deeper inside her, first soon joined by a second. Thick digits stretched her, pressing insistently up, angling carefully until they stroked against just the right spot.
“S'good?”
“Yes…” she hissed, syllable sticking in her throat. Eyes squeezing shut as she lost herself to the sensation.
“Good.”
Her breathing quickened, humming sigh growing in volume as his fingers crooked upwards and rubbed insistently. As his mouth sucked harder on the spot he’d found, tongue swirling and lapping hungrily. She dug her fingers into the sheets as her thighs began to twitch. As she writhed into his touch. As he refused to relent this time, working her fervently until she bucked against him, gasping his name and shuddering through her climax.
Gods, he was good at this.
Her head rolled to the side, eyes firmly shut, chest heaving as her pulse slowed. She detangled a hand from the sheets and reached for him, blindly knotting her fingers into his hair and tugging him towards her.
Her hand fell weakly back to the mattress when he planted an elbow next to her thigh and pushed himself up. She hummed contentedly when he peppered her thighs with kisses, before nudging her knee with his nose.
“Hey.”
She turned her head into his rough voice, opening heavy eyelids to look at him. He grinned back, hot breath burning her slick skin.
“Hey.”
Soft hands soothed the still-trembling muscles of her thighs. Thick fingers calmed her with such delicate touches. Stained her sweaty skin with sticky trails of her own wetness. She was too relaxed to care.
The gentle caresses centered her as she sank into the mattress, limbs thrumming happily. He stroked her until she began to squirm, her still heated skin needing more, craving more contact, more sensation, more Bill.
“Laura?” The very tips of his fingers traced up and down the very inside of her thigh, demanding her attention. His eyes searched hers, serious and sincere as he asked softly, “Can you take more?”
She smiled lazily as she processed his words. As she silently assessed the state of her body. As she watched him watch her, his keen look knowing her answer long before her smile curled into a smirk.
“Someone’s greedy tonight,” she teased, crinkling her nose as his eyes dropped back between her legs, as his fingers swirled through her still humming wetness.
He traced the edges of her labia, circling her with wide strokes. Tickling her with little swipes that never quite reached far enough.
“That a yes?”
His fingers danced up her center, whispery touches branding the seam of her entrance, barely fondling her clit before retreating back to the sensitive skin near her thighs.
“It’s a yes.”
“Good.”
Bill pushed up onto his hands and crawled up her body, towering over her for a long moment. She moaned again at the visual stimulus, at the sight of his strong arms flexing and cording next to her head. The muscles rippled as he leaned down and kissed her, sharing her flavor with lazy swipes of his tongue.
She gripped his arms, groaning happily as the hairs of his forearms tickled her palms. She slid them up to his shoulders, savoring the hard feel of his muscles under her hands, pressing her fingers into the impressive definition of his biceps before looping her arms around his shoulders and deepening the kiss.
Bill grunted in surprise before tilting his head and opening to her, tongue dancing against hers as she pushed into his mouth and kissed him until her lungs burned for air.
“You taste good,” he murmured against her lips.
“No, I don’t,” she shook her head with a short giggle, licking the remnants of her taste off their lips. The sweet, sticky-sourness mixed with the intoxicating flavor of Bill’s mouth, tempering the tang into something almost appealing.
“Yeah, you do.”
She groaned as his tongue pushed back into her mouth. Her legs lifted to loop around his waist, soft cotton of his boxer briefs sticking to her skin as she tried to pull his weight atop her. His broad palms dropped to cradle her hips and press them into the mattress.
Bill chuckled, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, a dangerous look darkening his face as he took in her wide eyes and flushed skin. He kissed her lips lightly, nuzzling the now swollen skin before extracting himself and resituating between her thighs.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, shifting to reach for him and coax him back up within reach. She wanted more. Wanted to kiss him, suck him, frak him. Wanted to feel his body trembling over hers.
“Later, Laura.”
One hand anchored her stomach. The other twisted around her thigh, lifting and opening her. Flashing her a cocky grin, Bill buried his face back between her legs. Eased her back into the sensation with playful little licks. Intense delight lit his eyes as he teased her.
She spread her legs further under his fevered touch, thigh muscles burning as they stretched and tightened under his deliberate fingers.
He took his time.
Bill was always so intense. Always made the act so sensual, refusing to be rushed no matter how much she wanted it. No matter how much she begged. He anchored her in the little details. In the tiny minutiae that richened the experience.
His hand massaged soothing circles into her thigh, and she felt her own wetness coating sweaty skin. She gasped reflexively. He grinned into her, wicked look searing her eyes as he started over, nipping and licking intricate patterns across the soft skin of her legs. Patiently playing her body, working his way up towards her center, tasting her flesh with lips, tongue, and teeth before settling before finally, finally dropping back between her legs to lap at her core.
He tasted her intently, tongue pushing deep inside of her wetness, stroking messily against her walls. He eagerly worked his jaw, pushing as far as he could inside of her before pulling back and gently nuzzling her folds.
He hadn’t shaved that morning. Day old whiskers scraped and tickled against her bare skin. One side burned her deliciously, the other prickled in a way that made her ache. He raised an eyebrow when her hips jerked under his cheek, gasping hum vibrating through her body. He began to tickle her with his cheek and jaw, tactically drawing the line of stubble against her skin, grinning as she writhed beneath him, shying away from the contact one moment and seeking it out the next.
It was a bit rougher than she preferred but felt so ridiculously good. Laura couldn’t help but giggle as the stray thought danced through her mind. Bill’s mustache had been much softer than his stubble…
“Having fun?” he rasped, grin widening at her groaning nod. “Tickles?”
“Not exactly,” she smiled crookedly, squirming as his fingers began tracing across her folds again. Broad petting strokes that spread her wetness, soaking her. Light touches that had her squirming almost immediately. It was so strange without the hair. She was so much more sensitive, nerves sharpened, heightened to a peak that she’d never known.
His grin deepened as he read the truth from her eyes.
“Maybe I should grow it back,” he murmured speculatively, swiping his fingers along the seam of her labia, spreading her delicately from bottom to top before swirling wide circles around her clit.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“You’re just worried that you’d never get out of bed.”
“I’m just worried that I’d have to look at it.”
Smirking he kissed her clit again, rewarding it with a broad flick of his tongue before turning his cheek and scraping lightly across the nub. Her thighs twitched when he scratched just right, a sharp gasp escaping her lips before she could stop it.
She could feel his chuckle against her skin. The matching grin slid across her lips without her consent, widening as his fingers slowly slipped back inside her.
“Though, it had its moments…” she admitted breathlessly.
Bill smirked again, nipping playfully at the quivering tendons of her thighs. She countered, slowly skating her hands up her sides, skimming her curves until she could cup her breasts. She moaned thickly at their heavy feel. At the sharp points of her nipples. At the slack-jawed look on Bill’s face.
He was transfixed, hands and mouth stilling for long moments as she flicked and rolled her nipples. He recovered with a sharp grunt, hooking his fingers inside her and curling her toes.
“I’m growing it back,” he growled into her skin, nipping messily around his hand.
“And be out of uniform?” Her voice thickened as she began to roll her nipples in time with his rhythm. “But Admiral, what will your superior say?”
“Not much if I’m using it to eat her out…”
Bill’s grin was blinding. He curled his free hand around her thigh, pushing her legs even further apart, branding her folds with his words as he lowered his mouth back to her clit.
Sensation bled together as he sucked eagerly, tongue and teeth hungrily working her clit as his fingers stroked inside of her. Laura cried out again, biting sharply into her lower lip to muffle the sound. Her hips bucked restlessly into his mouth, rolling thrusting, trying desperately to increase the contact, to intensify the pleasure.
She almost screamed when his hand retreated to trace her outer lips again.
“Laura…”
His voice was lower than she’d ever heard it. Dark and smoky as his breath rasped against her wetness. She swallowed roughly, dropping her head back and humming lustily before meeting his eyes. Before rolling her hips towards him, back arching into his hand as he stroked her. Breasts thrusting into her own palms as she pinched her nipples hard. Bill grunted again at the sight, turning his head and messily sucking her inner thigh.
“Yeah, Bill?”
His fingers glistened as they traced up and down her labia, whispery touches taunting her trembling nerves.
“This place is soundproof,” he told her, slowly burying his fingers back inside her.
“Yeah?” She gasped, propping herself up as much as she could. "So?"
“So you think you can give it some volume this time?”
She giggled again, shaking her head fondly as she watched his fingers and tongue slide through her wetness, tingling in her body becoming almost unbearably good.
“I wasn’t loud enough before?” she deliberately rolled a nipple, groaning as sensation spiked through her
His hand, firm and deliberate against her thigh, pulled her eyes back to his.
“I wanna hear you, Laura.”
The way he looked at her was enough to steal her breath. He was intent, focused like she was the only thing in the universe. Like he could happily study her body, her flesh, her arousal for the rest of his days.
“And it's frakkin hot when you scream.”
Her laugh turned into a moan as Bill curved his fingers upward. Her voice reverberated loudly in the quiet room, but Bill loved it. He grunted against her at the sound, thrusting his fingers with a little more force. Sucking her clit back into his mouth and eating her with abandon.
She wanted to touch him. Wanted to run her hands all over his body, dancing across the flex of hard muscle. She wanted to taste him, to drink the sheen of sweat of his skin, to bite at his nipples and kiss across the uneven plains of his stomach. She wanted to suck him, to coax him up her body and maneuver them into a tangle of arms and legs and sex. To strip off his boxer briefs along the way and fill her mouth with his dick. To suck him off as he ate her, drowning herself in scent and tang and wetness and pleasure and sensuality and Bill.
She didn’t have the strength to pull him up her body. She couldn’t stop him even if she’d wanted too. It felt too good. It was too much. Bill was unrelenting between her thighs, needily taking what she would give him. Demanding it. Savoring and treasuring every last moment.
Laura let go as best she could. Loosed her throat and let the sensations wash over her. Bill needed to hear her. Needed to know her reactions. Needed to know how much she loved this.
It was a good day.
And he deserved as many of those as she could give him.
She didn’t have many left.