"Reassurance" [FFVII, Cloud x Tifa, NC-17]
Author: windrider1
Rating: NC-17 (Total PWP)
Warnings: Uh...sex.
Word count: 3000
Prompt: March 5 - Reassurance - He was never going to leave again, he wanted to make sure that she knew it.
AN: I don't own them, if I did the Highwind scene would have been SHOWN. **ahem** Anyway, I do hope the prompter enjoys! It's been awhile since I've written a lengthy smut scene. :) Happy reading!
The street outside Seventh Heaven was dark when he pulled Fenrir up to the curb, the last of the customers having left hours prior, their slushy footprints still evident on the snow covered sidewalk. A busy night by the looks of it.
Cloud removed his goggles and swung himself from his customized motorcycle. He pressed a button, allowing the bike's side compartments to open and removed First Tsurugi from its hidden sleeve. He gave the gleaming blade a once over-thankful to have not had to use it on this trip.
Although the monster attacks between Edge and Kalm were becoming far less frequent with WRO scheduled patrols, given the penchant for trouble finding him, Cloud wasn't willing to take chances and carried the blade with him on every delivery.
After slipping the sword into the harness on his back, Cloud leaned over the motorcycle's compartment and took out the quilt, flowers, letter and knitted sweater that Elmyra had sent back with him for Tifa, along with the two boxed gifts for the kids.
Arms laden with packages, he fumbled for the key to the side door, and used his elbow on the latch to shoulder his way inside. The small porch was dim lit; the only illumination provided by a small lamp beside the steel door that led into Seventh's main bar area. Cloud shrugged his load onto the shelf next to the coat rack and stripped off his cold gloves and bracer. A light stamp of boot removed the muck he'd carried in from the outdoors and he frowned at the puddle.
The weather had been his primary reason for delaying his travel an extra day-the unexpected snowstorm had created slick driving conditions and cut power in small areas. Although he had been quite warm and dry at Elmyra's, and Tifa had informed him that Seventh was fine, Cloud had still felt heavy with concern and an unnamed worry, and the moment road conditions were 'passable' he'd headed for home.
He enjoyed his time on the road-the roar and feel of Fenrir-and he enjoyed doing what he did for a living. Strife Delivery Service allowed for untethered freedom but as much enjoyment as Cloud got from doing his job, he still missed his family. He missed talkative chatter from eager little voices at the dinner table, along with the smell of warm food, and the sight of dark eyes and a soft smile on a face he'd loved since childhood.
Thinking of Tifa made him feel lighter and hastened his steps from the porch, and through their odd family home. It had only been three days since he'd last seen her-last held her in his arms-but even three days felt too long. He was off-balance without her near him...just a little lost. Sometimes he wondered if she felt the same while he was gone, but never dared to ask.
Tifa hated to be considered weak or needy. She took pride in being self-reliant, and although she never refused help and cheerfully encouraged their rag tag group's familial bonds-she never actively sought him out either. And that small uncertainty held his tongue on words he should have spoken, actions he should have taken.
Despite his own lingering self-doubts, he knew that Tifa cared for him. Knew that she loved him. That was never the question. She'd dedicated herself to him when he was a vegetable in Mideel and had remained steadfast in her belief in him-even when he'd lost it in the face of adversity. No, her love was not in doubt.
But did she need him?
With the same near desperation that he needed her?
He stopped outside of their bedroom door, raked his hand through damp hair. It was just past four in the morning and as much as he'd missed her-as much as he longed to see her-he should probably take the cot in his office as opposed to waking her. It was a Saturday, chances were she hadn't closed until after one, and clean up easily took another hour, if not longer given the foot traffic he'd noted outside. She was no doubt exhausted.
He was half turned away when her voice filtered to him. “Cloud...”
She was awake? Careful, he pushed the door open, slipped quietly into the dark room. “Tifa?” No answer. Closer to the bed, he spoke again. “Tifa?”
Tangled amidst cotton and hair, she lay curled on her side, the blankets twisted around her limbs. Her eyes were closed behind the strands of her dark hair, and her breathing was deep, if slightly uneven.
Asleep.
But he'd been sure he'd heard her. He ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck, cocked his head, observing her.
She was beautiful. Pale skin, dark hair, long limbs-tight and toned from years of training-and sensual curves that were all the more evident in her thin sleep attire.
She shifted suddenly, startling him from his appreciative staring, and kicked at the blankets, her face crumbling. “Cloud...don't...”
Dreaming.
Of him, apparently.
A grimace and a sharp gasp from her.
Nothing pleasant, it looked like, and he felt his heart kick in his chest.
“Cloud...” Her arm flung out, dangled over the edge of the mattress, fingers twitching. Reaching. “Please. Don't leave...please...”
And the kick in his heart became a knife.
They'd never spoke of it-his absence when he'd contracted Geostigma-and that, he had felt, was for the best. Her quiet forgiveness was enough for him, and even though he knew she deserved something from him-explanation or apology-he was unable to articulate anything beyond: “I'm back” for her.
But that wasn't enough-not nearly enough, he knew-but being the coward he was, he had taken the easy road and simply continued about the motions as if he'd never left. He had thought she'd be okay with that-had convinced himself that they were okay.
“...don't go...” She sounded so small, so desperate.
Clearly he was wrong.
Shaken, he took her outstretched hand in his own, lowered himself down to one knee. “Tifa. I'm right here. Right here.” Gentle, he cupped her face-flinched at the dried tracks he felt there.
Still lost in the throes of her dream, Tifa clutched at him, her grip painfully tight on his hand.
He regretted ever having asked himself if she needed him. Her strangled, quiet pleas and desperate touch was confirmation.
“...Don't leave me...I can't... please...don't go...”
Her fingertips were cold against his lips. “I won't go. Not ever again, Tifa. Please, believe me.” His throat ached with the sincerity of his quiet words. “I'm right here.”
Her mouth was soft beneath his, tasting of salty mint, and he wondered how long she had wept for him. How many nights had she lain crying in her sleep-reaching for him? How many nights had he not there to answer her?
Too many.
Cloud used his free hand to push her bangs back away from her brow. He leaned in and kissed her nose, her cheeks, the damp from her eyelashes. He offered her whispers and light touches, small kisses along her jaw to her ear where he whispered her name, promised he would stay.
He could feel it, the moment when awareness crept into her subconscious, and he leaned back-only far enough to witness her eyes blink open.
See me here. I'm here for you.
Dark, her gaze remained foggy and unfocused for a fraction of a second, and then she lit up, a smile of welcome blooming on her face. “Cloud! You're home!”
Her skin was soft against his knuckles. “Hi.”
“When did you-?”
Leaning into the mattress, Cloud found her mouth again. “Just now.” He lingered just above her, his heart heavy in his chest.
Taking in his somber expression, she brushed his hair back, concern tightened the corners of her mouth. “Is there something the matter?” she whispered.
He swallowed against his too-dry throat, pressed his lips to her palm. “You were dreaming...”
She frowned, a furrow forming above her nose as she tried to recall her dream. After a moment, a blush crept along her face, realization and embarrassment turning her gaze away. “Cloud, I-”
No words, he thought. He was worthless with words-and they were inadequate at the moment anyway. She didn't need to feel embarrassed. If anything it was him that should feel ashamed, and he did. She deserved better than cold sheets and empty excuses.
Fists planted on either side of her hips, he pressed her back, took her lips again. Searching, tasting, cajoling...he let her flavor seep through him, and if his touch was a tad desperate that couldn't be helped.
She needed him, and he would show her that he was there-would always be there. He whispered her name, followed her down to the bed.
Only when she went pliant, melting against him, did he allow his lips to move away, along her chin, across her jaw, until they caressed the soft curve of her neck. He set a languorous pace, savoring, taking his time. She tasted sweet on his tongue.
He mouthed her name against her pulse and smirked when the brief contact caused her breath to hitch and her fingers to involuntarily tighten around the gold strands in her hand. She shivered deliciously when his tongue swirled, his mouth once more moving in a slow slide to cover her shoulder in lingering, open kisses.
She smelled of sweet soap and sleep.
Kneeling, Cloud shifted himself so that he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, dark crescents fanning flushed cheeks, her head tilted back, exposing the slender line of her throat. Adoringly, he nuzzled her neck, murmured nothing words.
He repeated the motion again when she moaned. A swirl of tongue, a caress of lips, his hands rising to cradle her face. He felt her shudder, her slender frame pressed tight to his. He skimmed her lips with the tip of his tongue, silently encouraging her to open for him.
When she complied with a breathy little gasp he covered her mouth fully, sinking deep, relishing every sensation: the taste of her on his tongue, the scent of her in his nose, the feel of her against his skin.
She clung to him, her legs curled around his, her feet digging into the back of his calves, her fingers clenched tight in the fabric of his shirt.
He whispered her name in between reverent kisses and feather-light touches.
Tifa shoveled her fingers through his hair, responded with quiet sighs and low moans.
Her eyes no longer held any lingering sadness from her dream, but instead they smoldered up at him and Cloud was entranced by the simmering flecks hidden in their depths. He nipped at her mouth, immediately soothing the small bite with a broad stroke of his tongue.
She stirred restlessly, hips undulating up against his, making him groan. Gods above, she felt so good. So warm, and soft, and inviting.
Very deliberate he stroked himself against her, pressed his chest to her swollen breasts, the motion teasing her nipples through the near sheer material of her nightshirt. Still fully clothed he rolled his hips in short, shallow thrusts, giving her a teasing taste of what he wanted...what she craved.
She was hot and damp against him and he felt his erection swell. Delicious friction caused him to grind his teeth. When she scraped her own teeth along his neck, sucking a small bit of skin into her mouth, his eyes closed on a shudder.
To have her like this, with him, it was something he cherished, and he hated to think that maybe she didn't know that. That she thought he could ever leave her again.
Considering, Cloud lowered his head, took a puckered tip of one eager breast into his mouth, circled and suckled through cloth until she was arched against him, small mewls breaking over his skin. Her hands skimmed along his back, pressing him closer.
The blunt of his fingers teased the hem of her camisole top until, breathless, she ordered him to remove it. Smiling, he tugged the flimsy material over her head and then tossed it over his shoulder. Her tiny sleep shorts followed. When she lay completely bare beneath him he growled his appreciation into her navel.
Her hands reached for him, fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head-watching him through half-lidded eyes that smoldered his blood. Holding her gaze, he once again lowered his head, this time to flick his tongue into the well of her belly button, then lower, skimming the flat planes of her abdomen, into the crevice between hip and thigh.
Her entire body trembled when he let out a hot breath against moist skin. Reverent, patient, and loving, he placed his mouth on her.
“Cloud!” His name was smoke on satin as legs spread apart to allow him unhindered access.
Eyes open, watching her face, he slid the flat of his tongue along her seam, parting the folds only a bit for light, quick flicks. Her eyelashes fluttered, breathes quickened. Encouraged, Cloud dipped down, nuzzled into her, using mouth and tongue and teeth until she was writhing against the sheets.
Moaning his name, she raised one leg, the motion brushing her smooth skin against the coarseness of his days growth stubble. “Not enough,” she reprimanded, voice thick with want. “I want you; inside.”
Hurried, Cloud pushed himself up onto his knees, quickly divesting himself of his own clothes.
“Better.” Tifa lifted her hips, beseeching.
Gods, she was beautiful.
He levered himself above her, gripped himself in his hand. A few hard strokes and he smeared pre-cum along the head. “Tifa.” His voice was low and heavy with pent up desire.
She reached for him, her hands skimming the flexing muscles of his stomach, then lower. She cupped him, positioned him.
Slow, so slow it damn near killed him, he pushed himself inside, only to pull back out after only a few inches-then in again.
“Oh!” Tifa turned her face into the pillow, her startled cry muffled by Chocobo down and cotton.
He feathered kisses on her temples, on her nose, his mouth settling on hers as his hips began to move in a gentle, coaxing rhythm. Using his arms to hold himself above her, he angled his hips, buried himself deeper, ensuring that his strokes remained long and slow. Her nails dug into his back, his name was a litany on her lips.
Gaia, he loved how she said his name. No one else managed to make it sound so noble, so perfect. She clutched at him, pulled him flush to her.
“Here,” she whispered.
And so he stayed, face buried against the curve of her shoulder, hips moving in drawn out thrusts. She followed the rhythm he set, moved with him and for him, so each motion was like a continuous roll. Pleasure never peaked, never ceased, but remained constant-both walking along the fine line of completion, but not crossing. Not yet...
His hands slid over her; found every hollow and secret. He didn't speak, but made small hums of pleasure against her ear. He was incredibly loving, taking her with the utmost care and tenderness. She was, to him, the most precious thing in all the world. He wanted her to know that.
Words, he lacked, so he let his body do the talking.
Mouth to skin. I need you.
Harder, deeper thrusts. I want you.
Eyes locked. I love you.
“Cloud!” Her fingers dug into his buttocks, urged him to go faster.
Obedient, he adjusted his angle, increased his tempo.
Her breathless cry of release was swallowed by his mouth as he claimed hers in a scorching kiss, his hips continuing to surge forward. Her inner muscles squeezed and trembled around him, and that sensation was his undoing. With a hoarse groan he drove into her, his own release nearly blinding.
When it was finished, Cloud rolled off of her, pulled her across his chest, both of them slick with sweat and chests heaving. They lay in musky silence as their bodies returned to normal, his lips occasionally brushing the side of her head.
This close he could hear it as her heartbeat slowed, as her breathing eased. He inhaled her scent mixed with his and felt some form of male satisfaction bloom in his gut. It was probably best not to dwell on that inner smugness, but it still caused a smile to curve his lips.
Her fingertips drifted along his chest, absent patterns scrawled skin to skin. “Cloud...”
“Hm?”
“About what you heard...”
“Tifa.” He turned so that he could face her. He wouldn't hide from this, from her. Not anymore. “I'm sorry.”
She closed her mouth, waited. Patient, as only she could be.
“I know I hurt you. I didn't want that, you have to know that.”
“I do.”
Good, that was something. He cleared his throat, continued, “And I want you to know that I won't leave you again.”
She nodded, “Okay.”
“No,” he shook his head, leveled her a steady stare. “I want you to know that, Teef. Not just agree to it. Know it: here,” he placed his palm over her heart. “I want you to know that no matter what happens...I will be there for you. Always.” Believe me.
Her eyes misted over and he could see doubt and faith warring behind the veil of her lashes. Finally, she offered him a tremulous smile. “I'll try.”
It was more than he deserved, so he took it. He let his hand drift through her hair, moved it to cradle her cheek. “And I'll be here to remind you.” A kiss. “Again.” Another. “And again.” Once more. “And again.”
Rating: NC-17 (Total PWP)
Warnings: Uh...sex.
Word count: 3000
Prompt: March 5 - Reassurance - He was never going to leave again, he wanted to make sure that she knew it.
AN: I don't own them, if I did the Highwind scene would have been SHOWN. **ahem** Anyway, I do hope the prompter enjoys! It's been awhile since I've written a lengthy smut scene. :) Happy reading!
The street outside Seventh Heaven was dark when he pulled Fenrir up to the curb, the last of the customers having left hours prior, their slushy footprints still evident on the snow covered sidewalk. A busy night by the looks of it.
Cloud removed his goggles and swung himself from his customized motorcycle. He pressed a button, allowing the bike's side compartments to open and removed First Tsurugi from its hidden sleeve. He gave the gleaming blade a once over-thankful to have not had to use it on this trip.
Although the monster attacks between Edge and Kalm were becoming far less frequent with WRO scheduled patrols, given the penchant for trouble finding him, Cloud wasn't willing to take chances and carried the blade with him on every delivery.
After slipping the sword into the harness on his back, Cloud leaned over the motorcycle's compartment and took out the quilt, flowers, letter and knitted sweater that Elmyra had sent back with him for Tifa, along with the two boxed gifts for the kids.
Arms laden with packages, he fumbled for the key to the side door, and used his elbow on the latch to shoulder his way inside. The small porch was dim lit; the only illumination provided by a small lamp beside the steel door that led into Seventh's main bar area. Cloud shrugged his load onto the shelf next to the coat rack and stripped off his cold gloves and bracer. A light stamp of boot removed the muck he'd carried in from the outdoors and he frowned at the puddle.
The weather had been his primary reason for delaying his travel an extra day-the unexpected snowstorm had created slick driving conditions and cut power in small areas. Although he had been quite warm and dry at Elmyra's, and Tifa had informed him that Seventh was fine, Cloud had still felt heavy with concern and an unnamed worry, and the moment road conditions were 'passable' he'd headed for home.
He enjoyed his time on the road-the roar and feel of Fenrir-and he enjoyed doing what he did for a living. Strife Delivery Service allowed for untethered freedom but as much enjoyment as Cloud got from doing his job, he still missed his family. He missed talkative chatter from eager little voices at the dinner table, along with the smell of warm food, and the sight of dark eyes and a soft smile on a face he'd loved since childhood.
Thinking of Tifa made him feel lighter and hastened his steps from the porch, and through their odd family home. It had only been three days since he'd last seen her-last held her in his arms-but even three days felt too long. He was off-balance without her near him...just a little lost. Sometimes he wondered if she felt the same while he was gone, but never dared to ask.
Tifa hated to be considered weak or needy. She took pride in being self-reliant, and although she never refused help and cheerfully encouraged their rag tag group's familial bonds-she never actively sought him out either. And that small uncertainty held his tongue on words he should have spoken, actions he should have taken.
Despite his own lingering self-doubts, he knew that Tifa cared for him. Knew that she loved him. That was never the question. She'd dedicated herself to him when he was a vegetable in Mideel and had remained steadfast in her belief in him-even when he'd lost it in the face of adversity. No, her love was not in doubt.
But did she need him?
With the same near desperation that he needed her?
He stopped outside of their bedroom door, raked his hand through damp hair. It was just past four in the morning and as much as he'd missed her-as much as he longed to see her-he should probably take the cot in his office as opposed to waking her. It was a Saturday, chances were she hadn't closed until after one, and clean up easily took another hour, if not longer given the foot traffic he'd noted outside. She was no doubt exhausted.
He was half turned away when her voice filtered to him. “Cloud...”
She was awake? Careful, he pushed the door open, slipped quietly into the dark room. “Tifa?” No answer. Closer to the bed, he spoke again. “Tifa?”
Tangled amidst cotton and hair, she lay curled on her side, the blankets twisted around her limbs. Her eyes were closed behind the strands of her dark hair, and her breathing was deep, if slightly uneven.
Asleep.
But he'd been sure he'd heard her. He ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck, cocked his head, observing her.
She was beautiful. Pale skin, dark hair, long limbs-tight and toned from years of training-and sensual curves that were all the more evident in her thin sleep attire.
She shifted suddenly, startling him from his appreciative staring, and kicked at the blankets, her face crumbling. “Cloud...don't...”
Dreaming.
Of him, apparently.
A grimace and a sharp gasp from her.
Nothing pleasant, it looked like, and he felt his heart kick in his chest.
“Cloud...” Her arm flung out, dangled over the edge of the mattress, fingers twitching. Reaching. “Please. Don't leave...please...”
And the kick in his heart became a knife.
They'd never spoke of it-his absence when he'd contracted Geostigma-and that, he had felt, was for the best. Her quiet forgiveness was enough for him, and even though he knew she deserved something from him-explanation or apology-he was unable to articulate anything beyond: “I'm back” for her.
But that wasn't enough-not nearly enough, he knew-but being the coward he was, he had taken the easy road and simply continued about the motions as if he'd never left. He had thought she'd be okay with that-had convinced himself that they were okay.
“...don't go...” She sounded so small, so desperate.
Clearly he was wrong.
Shaken, he took her outstretched hand in his own, lowered himself down to one knee. “Tifa. I'm right here. Right here.” Gentle, he cupped her face-flinched at the dried tracks he felt there.
Still lost in the throes of her dream, Tifa clutched at him, her grip painfully tight on his hand.
He regretted ever having asked himself if she needed him. Her strangled, quiet pleas and desperate touch was confirmation.
“...Don't leave me...I can't... please...don't go...”
Her fingertips were cold against his lips. “I won't go. Not ever again, Tifa. Please, believe me.” His throat ached with the sincerity of his quiet words. “I'm right here.”
Her mouth was soft beneath his, tasting of salty mint, and he wondered how long she had wept for him. How many nights had she lain crying in her sleep-reaching for him? How many nights had he not there to answer her?
Too many.
Cloud used his free hand to push her bangs back away from her brow. He leaned in and kissed her nose, her cheeks, the damp from her eyelashes. He offered her whispers and light touches, small kisses along her jaw to her ear where he whispered her name, promised he would stay.
He could feel it, the moment when awareness crept into her subconscious, and he leaned back-only far enough to witness her eyes blink open.
See me here. I'm here for you.
Dark, her gaze remained foggy and unfocused for a fraction of a second, and then she lit up, a smile of welcome blooming on her face. “Cloud! You're home!”
Her skin was soft against his knuckles. “Hi.”
“When did you-?”
Leaning into the mattress, Cloud found her mouth again. “Just now.” He lingered just above her, his heart heavy in his chest.
Taking in his somber expression, she brushed his hair back, concern tightened the corners of her mouth. “Is there something the matter?” she whispered.
He swallowed against his too-dry throat, pressed his lips to her palm. “You were dreaming...”
She frowned, a furrow forming above her nose as she tried to recall her dream. After a moment, a blush crept along her face, realization and embarrassment turning her gaze away. “Cloud, I-”
No words, he thought. He was worthless with words-and they were inadequate at the moment anyway. She didn't need to feel embarrassed. If anything it was him that should feel ashamed, and he did. She deserved better than cold sheets and empty excuses.
Fists planted on either side of her hips, he pressed her back, took her lips again. Searching, tasting, cajoling...he let her flavor seep through him, and if his touch was a tad desperate that couldn't be helped.
She needed him, and he would show her that he was there-would always be there. He whispered her name, followed her down to the bed.
Only when she went pliant, melting against him, did he allow his lips to move away, along her chin, across her jaw, until they caressed the soft curve of her neck. He set a languorous pace, savoring, taking his time. She tasted sweet on his tongue.
He mouthed her name against her pulse and smirked when the brief contact caused her breath to hitch and her fingers to involuntarily tighten around the gold strands in her hand. She shivered deliciously when his tongue swirled, his mouth once more moving in a slow slide to cover her shoulder in lingering, open kisses.
She smelled of sweet soap and sleep.
Kneeling, Cloud shifted himself so that he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, dark crescents fanning flushed cheeks, her head tilted back, exposing the slender line of her throat. Adoringly, he nuzzled her neck, murmured nothing words.
He repeated the motion again when she moaned. A swirl of tongue, a caress of lips, his hands rising to cradle her face. He felt her shudder, her slender frame pressed tight to his. He skimmed her lips with the tip of his tongue, silently encouraging her to open for him.
When she complied with a breathy little gasp he covered her mouth fully, sinking deep, relishing every sensation: the taste of her on his tongue, the scent of her in his nose, the feel of her against his skin.
She clung to him, her legs curled around his, her feet digging into the back of his calves, her fingers clenched tight in the fabric of his shirt.
He whispered her name in between reverent kisses and feather-light touches.
Tifa shoveled her fingers through his hair, responded with quiet sighs and low moans.
Her eyes no longer held any lingering sadness from her dream, but instead they smoldered up at him and Cloud was entranced by the simmering flecks hidden in their depths. He nipped at her mouth, immediately soothing the small bite with a broad stroke of his tongue.
She stirred restlessly, hips undulating up against his, making him groan. Gods above, she felt so good. So warm, and soft, and inviting.
Very deliberate he stroked himself against her, pressed his chest to her swollen breasts, the motion teasing her nipples through the near sheer material of her nightshirt. Still fully clothed he rolled his hips in short, shallow thrusts, giving her a teasing taste of what he wanted...what she craved.
She was hot and damp against him and he felt his erection swell. Delicious friction caused him to grind his teeth. When she scraped her own teeth along his neck, sucking a small bit of skin into her mouth, his eyes closed on a shudder.
To have her like this, with him, it was something he cherished, and he hated to think that maybe she didn't know that. That she thought he could ever leave her again.
Considering, Cloud lowered his head, took a puckered tip of one eager breast into his mouth, circled and suckled through cloth until she was arched against him, small mewls breaking over his skin. Her hands skimmed along his back, pressing him closer.
The blunt of his fingers teased the hem of her camisole top until, breathless, she ordered him to remove it. Smiling, he tugged the flimsy material over her head and then tossed it over his shoulder. Her tiny sleep shorts followed. When she lay completely bare beneath him he growled his appreciation into her navel.
Her hands reached for him, fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head-watching him through half-lidded eyes that smoldered his blood. Holding her gaze, he once again lowered his head, this time to flick his tongue into the well of her belly button, then lower, skimming the flat planes of her abdomen, into the crevice between hip and thigh.
Her entire body trembled when he let out a hot breath against moist skin. Reverent, patient, and loving, he placed his mouth on her.
“Cloud!” His name was smoke on satin as legs spread apart to allow him unhindered access.
Eyes open, watching her face, he slid the flat of his tongue along her seam, parting the folds only a bit for light, quick flicks. Her eyelashes fluttered, breathes quickened. Encouraged, Cloud dipped down, nuzzled into her, using mouth and tongue and teeth until she was writhing against the sheets.
Moaning his name, she raised one leg, the motion brushing her smooth skin against the coarseness of his days growth stubble. “Not enough,” she reprimanded, voice thick with want. “I want you; inside.”
Hurried, Cloud pushed himself up onto his knees, quickly divesting himself of his own clothes.
“Better.” Tifa lifted her hips, beseeching.
Gods, she was beautiful.
He levered himself above her, gripped himself in his hand. A few hard strokes and he smeared pre-cum along the head. “Tifa.” His voice was low and heavy with pent up desire.
She reached for him, her hands skimming the flexing muscles of his stomach, then lower. She cupped him, positioned him.
Slow, so slow it damn near killed him, he pushed himself inside, only to pull back out after only a few inches-then in again.
“Oh!” Tifa turned her face into the pillow, her startled cry muffled by Chocobo down and cotton.
He feathered kisses on her temples, on her nose, his mouth settling on hers as his hips began to move in a gentle, coaxing rhythm. Using his arms to hold himself above her, he angled his hips, buried himself deeper, ensuring that his strokes remained long and slow. Her nails dug into his back, his name was a litany on her lips.
Gaia, he loved how she said his name. No one else managed to make it sound so noble, so perfect. She clutched at him, pulled him flush to her.
“Here,” she whispered.
And so he stayed, face buried against the curve of her shoulder, hips moving in drawn out thrusts. She followed the rhythm he set, moved with him and for him, so each motion was like a continuous roll. Pleasure never peaked, never ceased, but remained constant-both walking along the fine line of completion, but not crossing. Not yet...
His hands slid over her; found every hollow and secret. He didn't speak, but made small hums of pleasure against her ear. He was incredibly loving, taking her with the utmost care and tenderness. She was, to him, the most precious thing in all the world. He wanted her to know that.
Words, he lacked, so he let his body do the talking.
Mouth to skin. I need you.
Harder, deeper thrusts. I want you.
Eyes locked. I love you.
“Cloud!” Her fingers dug into his buttocks, urged him to go faster.
Obedient, he adjusted his angle, increased his tempo.
Her breathless cry of release was swallowed by his mouth as he claimed hers in a scorching kiss, his hips continuing to surge forward. Her inner muscles squeezed and trembled around him, and that sensation was his undoing. With a hoarse groan he drove into her, his own release nearly blinding.
When it was finished, Cloud rolled off of her, pulled her across his chest, both of them slick with sweat and chests heaving. They lay in musky silence as their bodies returned to normal, his lips occasionally brushing the side of her head.
This close he could hear it as her heartbeat slowed, as her breathing eased. He inhaled her scent mixed with his and felt some form of male satisfaction bloom in his gut. It was probably best not to dwell on that inner smugness, but it still caused a smile to curve his lips.
Her fingertips drifted along his chest, absent patterns scrawled skin to skin. “Cloud...”
“Hm?”
“About what you heard...”
“Tifa.” He turned so that he could face her. He wouldn't hide from this, from her. Not anymore. “I'm sorry.”
She closed her mouth, waited. Patient, as only she could be.
“I know I hurt you. I didn't want that, you have to know that.”
“I do.”
Good, that was something. He cleared his throat, continued, “And I want you to know that I won't leave you again.”
She nodded, “Okay.”
“No,” he shook his head, leveled her a steady stare. “I want you to know that, Teef. Not just agree to it. Know it: here,” he placed his palm over her heart. “I want you to know that no matter what happens...I will be there for you. Always.” Believe me.
Her eyes misted over and he could see doubt and faith warring behind the veil of her lashes. Finally, she offered him a tremulous smile. “I'll try.”
It was more than he deserved, so he took it. He let his hand drift through her hair, moved it to cradle her cheek. “And I'll be here to remind you.” A kiss. “Again.” Another. “And again.” Once more. “And again.”