Fic: Sensory Overload 1/1
Title: Sensory Overload
Characters: Nine/Rose
Rating: Adult
Genre: PWP, Graphic Sex
Disclaimer: If I owned them then it would still be Nine and Rose
A/N: Absolutely no plot whatsoever! It's shameless smut, shameless Nine/Rose smut. It was beta'd by the lovely lillibetm3 after she requested more Nine/Rose smut in a meme I made about plot bunnies....
It's intense, this feeling, this craving, it's an all consuming obsession that fills his days with heart stopping moments of hope and his nights with fevered dreams that make him toss and turn with unfulfilled desire for her. It causes him to wake frequently throughout the night, drenched in sweat and aroused, fragments of his dreams, ghost-like images of fierce and ardent lovemaking still haunting him.
He showers, cold water unsurprisingly doing nothing to cool his feverish body, his burning desire. She has infected him, dragging up long dormant passions in him that have been suppressed for centuries; the long denied human side of his heritage now reasserting itself. Ice cold water cascades down his lean body, but cannot hope to quell the fire she has ignited within him. He places his hands over his face and wonders how he came to this, she isn’t the first human he has loved, but she is the first in eons who has affected him this way.
Back in his room he strips off the damp sheets from his bed then falls down naked on top of the bare mattress, still wet from the shower. Sleep seems so far away and he cannot get her out of his mind. She clings to his thoughts like madness. Despite the cold shower his body is still burning for her. It’s a basic instinct that he is unable to control, and it is consuming him. He closes his eyes and all he can see is her, blonde hair in a halo around her face like a beguiling angel, full of temptation that is wrong, so very wrong. A sweet promise whispers from his angels lips and it takes all that he is not to fall, not to weaken and ease the need of his body with his hand. From experience he knows there is scant satisfaction in that, and certainly no cure.
He gets up, frustrated that yet again he will be unable to rest. He pulls on a pair of black jeans and pads bare-foot and bare-chested over to his door. Outside his room the corridors are deserted, the TARDIS's only other occupant is no doubt asleep in the room opposite his, the one with the ornately carved roses on the door. He stops for a moment, places his hands on the door and leans his forehead against it. Squeezing his eyes closed his mind pictures her laid on her bed in all her magnificence. It takes all his self restraint not to enter the room beyond and claim her as his.
He moves silently down the corridors to the library, if he cannot sleep then perhaps reading will take his mind off her. Sitting down in his armchair he sees a jacket of hers casually strewn over the arm. He picks it up and her scent assaults his senses. It sends his mind spinning and he pulls it to his face and inhales it deeply, shuddering as he feels the tightness in his jeans as her perfume affects him. It is the jacket she wore earlier and the perfume he bought her at a market on a trading planet. It is uniquely her; he knew that as soon as he tried the sample in the market. It smells of Roses and Ylang Ylang and something else; something elusive that just symbolises her. Reluctantly he lets the jacket fall to the floor and instead picks up a book, hoping to find diversion in it's pages, if not salvation.
Time moves on a little and reading is proving impossible, he cannot concentrate on the book so he decides to go to the console room and gets up to leave the library. He opens the door and to his astonishment she is there, not a dream, not a trick of his mind, but flesh and blood. She is flushed and her pheromones overwhelm him, he falters, unsure of what to say or do. Her eyes are filled with desire and he cannot break her gaze. Neither speak, instead she reaches up to him and puts her arms around his neck.
He knows that this is wrong, but he does not stop her, he doesn't want to. His hands automatically find her waist and he can feel her curves through the thin fabric of her wrap. She is naked underneath, he knows this; he sees how the silk wrap drapes over her body. His eyes on hers, he reaches to the loosely tied belt, he waits for her to move away from him, and when she does not he pulls the belt undone and slips the wrap off her shoulders where it crumples at her feet and she is there in all her glory, far more beautiful than she had been in his dreams. He touches her with unsure fingertips and understands at once that this is real and it is now and that the time for dreams has passed.
Her lips are moist and parted and he bears down on them with his mouth, finding an eager response that serves only to ignite the fires he had struggled to control. Kissing her with centuries of passion he crushes her lips with his. She tastes of promise and fire, her tongue slips inside mouth and explores, so hot. There is no uncertainly in her response, no reluctance, she welcomes him. She moans as he begins to caress her breasts, her skin feels like velvet, so soft under his rough hands.
She fumbles at his belt, finally managing to unfasten it, then she opens his zip and pulls his jeans down over his buttocks and he kicks them off, wanting nothing to come between them. Her skin feels like fire against his and he pulls her closer, his self control breaking as she reaches a hand to hold him. Her touch sends shock waves of ecstasy to the pleasure center of his brain and he almost comes undone.
Unable to control himself anymore he lifts up her legs and slams her against the wall, her heat burns him and he knows that this is the last chance he will be able to give her to end this, the very last chance. Pulling away from the kiss he looks at her and begs her silently with his eyes;
Stop me, because I can't
She answers him by pushing her hips towards him and her eyes tell him that she wants this as much as he does.
He does not ask again.
With one thrust he is inside her and it's sensory overload. She is hot, wet and tight and it’s all he has ever wanted. She gasps and he can see pain in her eyes but he can’t stop to give her time to adjust, he is beyond that now. But she doesn’t want him to stop and she locks her legs behind him and pulls him in deeper, harder and faster to the point where he doesn’t know where he ends and she begins. But it doesn't matter, all that matters is this. She is clawing him, her nails breaking the skin on his back and he emits a feral growl from deep within his throat that makes her do it more.
He can feel her ecstasy building; her nails dig in deeper as the waves of orgasm overwhelm her again and again. She throws her head back and screams as spasms overwhelm her body sending shock waves through his. He cannot see anything other than her, he is incapable of thought. His thrusts become erratic as gets closer and closer to the edge and then suddenly he breaks, loosing all self control and thrusting up hard into her one last time. He's coming and every nerve ending in his body is on fire as he spills himself into her. Sparks fly in his mind, explosions of rapture all along his limbic system, she is there, sharing this with him, in his mind, but he has no idea how.
Then gradually they come down and slump to the floor, hearts pounding together with synchronicity. He opens his eyes and sees her staring at him, she is breathless and smiling, and he can hear her mind, there are no words necessary any more.
He touches her face, kisses her lips, at last believing that this is real -- that she is real. He stands, bringing her to her feet also. He offers her his hand and she takes it, just as she has always done, but this time he leads her to his room, their room now, and he knows he is no longer alone.
Characters: Nine/Rose
Rating: Adult
Genre: PWP, Graphic Sex
Disclaimer: If I owned them then it would still be Nine and Rose
A/N: Absolutely no plot whatsoever! It's shameless smut, shameless Nine/Rose smut. It was beta'd by the lovely lillibetm3 after she requested more Nine/Rose smut in a meme I made about plot bunnies....
It's intense, this feeling, this craving, it's an all consuming obsession that fills his days with heart stopping moments of hope and his nights with fevered dreams that make him toss and turn with unfulfilled desire for her. It causes him to wake frequently throughout the night, drenched in sweat and aroused, fragments of his dreams, ghost-like images of fierce and ardent lovemaking still haunting him.
He showers, cold water unsurprisingly doing nothing to cool his feverish body, his burning desire. She has infected him, dragging up long dormant passions in him that have been suppressed for centuries; the long denied human side of his heritage now reasserting itself. Ice cold water cascades down his lean body, but cannot hope to quell the fire she has ignited within him. He places his hands over his face and wonders how he came to this, she isn’t the first human he has loved, but she is the first in eons who has affected him this way.
Back in his room he strips off the damp sheets from his bed then falls down naked on top of the bare mattress, still wet from the shower. Sleep seems so far away and he cannot get her out of his mind. She clings to his thoughts like madness. Despite the cold shower his body is still burning for her. It’s a basic instinct that he is unable to control, and it is consuming him. He closes his eyes and all he can see is her, blonde hair in a halo around her face like a beguiling angel, full of temptation that is wrong, so very wrong. A sweet promise whispers from his angels lips and it takes all that he is not to fall, not to weaken and ease the need of his body with his hand. From experience he knows there is scant satisfaction in that, and certainly no cure.
He gets up, frustrated that yet again he will be unable to rest. He pulls on a pair of black jeans and pads bare-foot and bare-chested over to his door. Outside his room the corridors are deserted, the TARDIS's only other occupant is no doubt asleep in the room opposite his, the one with the ornately carved roses on the door. He stops for a moment, places his hands on the door and leans his forehead against it. Squeezing his eyes closed his mind pictures her laid on her bed in all her magnificence. It takes all his self restraint not to enter the room beyond and claim her as his.
He moves silently down the corridors to the library, if he cannot sleep then perhaps reading will take his mind off her. Sitting down in his armchair he sees a jacket of hers casually strewn over the arm. He picks it up and her scent assaults his senses. It sends his mind spinning and he pulls it to his face and inhales it deeply, shuddering as he feels the tightness in his jeans as her perfume affects him. It is the jacket she wore earlier and the perfume he bought her at a market on a trading planet. It is uniquely her; he knew that as soon as he tried the sample in the market. It smells of Roses and Ylang Ylang and something else; something elusive that just symbolises her. Reluctantly he lets the jacket fall to the floor and instead picks up a book, hoping to find diversion in it's pages, if not salvation.
Time moves on a little and reading is proving impossible, he cannot concentrate on the book so he decides to go to the console room and gets up to leave the library. He opens the door and to his astonishment she is there, not a dream, not a trick of his mind, but flesh and blood. She is flushed and her pheromones overwhelm him, he falters, unsure of what to say or do. Her eyes are filled with desire and he cannot break her gaze. Neither speak, instead she reaches up to him and puts her arms around his neck.
He knows that this is wrong, but he does not stop her, he doesn't want to. His hands automatically find her waist and he can feel her curves through the thin fabric of her wrap. She is naked underneath, he knows this; he sees how the silk wrap drapes over her body. His eyes on hers, he reaches to the loosely tied belt, he waits for her to move away from him, and when she does not he pulls the belt undone and slips the wrap off her shoulders where it crumples at her feet and she is there in all her glory, far more beautiful than she had been in his dreams. He touches her with unsure fingertips and understands at once that this is real and it is now and that the time for dreams has passed.
Her lips are moist and parted and he bears down on them with his mouth, finding an eager response that serves only to ignite the fires he had struggled to control. Kissing her with centuries of passion he crushes her lips with his. She tastes of promise and fire, her tongue slips inside mouth and explores, so hot. There is no uncertainly in her response, no reluctance, she welcomes him. She moans as he begins to caress her breasts, her skin feels like velvet, so soft under his rough hands.
She fumbles at his belt, finally managing to unfasten it, then she opens his zip and pulls his jeans down over his buttocks and he kicks them off, wanting nothing to come between them. Her skin feels like fire against his and he pulls her closer, his self control breaking as she reaches a hand to hold him. Her touch sends shock waves of ecstasy to the pleasure center of his brain and he almost comes undone.
Unable to control himself anymore he lifts up her legs and slams her against the wall, her heat burns him and he knows that this is the last chance he will be able to give her to end this, the very last chance. Pulling away from the kiss he looks at her and begs her silently with his eyes;
Stop me, because I can't
She answers him by pushing her hips towards him and her eyes tell him that she wants this as much as he does.
He does not ask again.
With one thrust he is inside her and it's sensory overload. She is hot, wet and tight and it’s all he has ever wanted. She gasps and he can see pain in her eyes but he can’t stop to give her time to adjust, he is beyond that now. But she doesn’t want him to stop and she locks her legs behind him and pulls him in deeper, harder and faster to the point where he doesn’t know where he ends and she begins. But it doesn't matter, all that matters is this. She is clawing him, her nails breaking the skin on his back and he emits a feral growl from deep within his throat that makes her do it more.
He can feel her ecstasy building; her nails dig in deeper as the waves of orgasm overwhelm her again and again. She throws her head back and screams as spasms overwhelm her body sending shock waves through his. He cannot see anything other than her, he is incapable of thought. His thrusts become erratic as gets closer and closer to the edge and then suddenly he breaks, loosing all self control and thrusting up hard into her one last time. He's coming and every nerve ending in his body is on fire as he spills himself into her. Sparks fly in his mind, explosions of rapture all along his limbic system, she is there, sharing this with him, in his mind, but he has no idea how.
Then gradually they come down and slump to the floor, hearts pounding together with synchronicity. He opens his eyes and sees her staring at him, she is breathless and smiling, and he can hear her mind, there are no words necessary any more.
He touches her face, kisses her lips, at last believing that this is real -- that she is real. He stands, bringing her to her feet also. He offers her his hand and she takes it, just as she has always done, but this time he leads her to his room, their room now, and he knows he is no longer alone.