3 DRABBLES: Shiver, Vanilla & Restraint
Just for the sake of cutting down on repetition, these are all for my drabble123 sex series. Multi-fandom, multi-pairing, as usual. There. Done. As usual, I also like to twist and play with prompts. Boring? Me? Naw.
Author's note: Who'da thunk I'd write Nate/Serena? Be proud, be very proud.
Ice cubes truly are dirty little things.
SHIVER
The ice cube trailed down her cleft, making Serena gasp out a breath she’d been holding in for far too long. It left her in a rush, just as her orgasm did, hitting hard and fast.
He put his mouth to her, lapping it all up with quiet urgency as the ice slowly melted in his hand, forgotten.
“Nate, Nate,” she gasped again, fisting his hair and - oh God please fuck me - forcing his head up and those stormy blue eyes to melt hers, quizzical impatience churning in them. She had difficulty breathing for a moment though it should have been easier without his tongue on - in - her. Serena wordlessly drew circles around a neglected breast, nipple puckering under her lazy ministration, under his watchful eye. “Ice,” she rasped.
Staring almost reverently, Nate brought the ice cube up and swiped it over the nipple slowly, then drew up to suck it greedily. Her other breast soon suffered the same delicious treatment, making her arch off the chaise longue just as he slid between her parted legs on her moan of appreciation.
The cube made one last trip south before he threw it away and then slid in. He was hot, so hot, she shivered and cried out at once.
Author's note: You should probably read my fic Leaving Marks before reading this, as this drabble is a hidden moment type of scene in chapter five. Also, please forgive that pun at the end. It just fit too well.
She'll never think of ice cream the same way again.
VANILLA
“Ben and Jerry would hate you if you burned their sugar high.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll do it nice and slow.”
The vision hit hard, unbidden, and would be totally, totally mortifying if ever she learned that, apart from having the propensity for lighting things on fire and being just a little stronger than the norm, he also had the ability to read thoughts.
Warren licking ice cream from her naked body.
In that one split second she allowed herself before slapping herself back to cold reality - hello, she had a client that wanted to start in on their six-pack, like, yesterday - she felt his tongue. Hot, smooth, slow, maddening strokes that brought instant wetness between her legs and took her breath away.
Holy smokes. Effing dangerous.
Author's note:I've been a fan of the Fever series since the beginning, so here is my little homage to the sheer perfection that was Dreamfever. You know the scene, or you can imagine: just after Barrons rescued Mac and brought her back home.
She's broken in all the right places - but he wants her fixed again.
RESTRAINT
He paced before the bed.
Barrons never paced. Pacing belied weakness, a weak willpower about to be completely shattered. He’d promised himself never to surrender again.
Willpower had not been his problem for centuries, though in the space of several heartbeats she’d had him at a crossroads the likes of which he’d absolutely never crossed before.
She needed him. That was not the problem.
The problem was him. Within him. His pounding heart. And his reason.
She’s not herself.
But she’ll never be if you don’t.
And so he slowly undressed himself, looked up at the whimpering, moaning, quivering mass of wanton, animal woman on his bed, and then approached her. Touched her. Heard the soft feminine sigh, felt hot skin coil around him and sank into her.
Perfect heat sheathed him and he searched her lips out, telling himself far too many lies all along while niggling reality reminded him that he was simply saving her.
Author's note: Who'da thunk I'd write Nate/Serena? Be proud, be very proud.
Ice cubes truly are dirty little things.
SHIVER
The ice cube trailed down her cleft, making Serena gasp out a breath she’d been holding in for far too long. It left her in a rush, just as her orgasm did, hitting hard and fast.
He put his mouth to her, lapping it all up with quiet urgency as the ice slowly melted in his hand, forgotten.
“Nate, Nate,” she gasped again, fisting his hair and - oh God please fuck me - forcing his head up and those stormy blue eyes to melt hers, quizzical impatience churning in them. She had difficulty breathing for a moment though it should have been easier without his tongue on - in - her. Serena wordlessly drew circles around a neglected breast, nipple puckering under her lazy ministration, under his watchful eye. “Ice,” she rasped.
Staring almost reverently, Nate brought the ice cube up and swiped it over the nipple slowly, then drew up to suck it greedily. Her other breast soon suffered the same delicious treatment, making her arch off the chaise longue just as he slid between her parted legs on her moan of appreciation.
The cube made one last trip south before he threw it away and then slid in. He was hot, so hot, she shivered and cried out at once.
Author's note: You should probably read my fic Leaving Marks before reading this, as this drabble is a hidden moment type of scene in chapter five. Also, please forgive that pun at the end. It just fit too well.
She'll never think of ice cream the same way again.
VANILLA
“Ben and Jerry would hate you if you burned their sugar high.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll do it nice and slow.”
The vision hit hard, unbidden, and would be totally, totally mortifying if ever she learned that, apart from having the propensity for lighting things on fire and being just a little stronger than the norm, he also had the ability to read thoughts.
Warren licking ice cream from her naked body.
In that one split second she allowed herself before slapping herself back to cold reality - hello, she had a client that wanted to start in on their six-pack, like, yesterday - she felt his tongue. Hot, smooth, slow, maddening strokes that brought instant wetness between her legs and took her breath away.
Holy smokes. Effing dangerous.
Author's note:I've been a fan of the Fever series since the beginning, so here is my little homage to the sheer perfection that was Dreamfever. You know the scene, or you can imagine: just after Barrons rescued Mac and brought her back home.
She's broken in all the right places - but he wants her fixed again.
RESTRAINT
He paced before the bed.
Barrons never paced. Pacing belied weakness, a weak willpower about to be completely shattered. He’d promised himself never to surrender again.
Willpower had not been his problem for centuries, though in the space of several heartbeats she’d had him at a crossroads the likes of which he’d absolutely never crossed before.
She needed him. That was not the problem.
The problem was him. Within him. His pounding heart. And his reason.
She’s not herself.
But she’ll never be if you don’t.
And so he slowly undressed himself, looked up at the whimpering, moaning, quivering mass of wanton, animal woman on his bed, and then approached her. Touched her. Heard the soft feminine sigh, felt hot skin coil around him and sank into her.
Perfect heat sheathed him and he searched her lips out, telling himself far too many lies all along while niggling reality reminded him that he was simply saving her.