Falling Home

[thenakedcupcake]

Falling Home. Ten/Rose. Cliche PWP. 1,861 words. Rated P for Pr0n.
A/N: Little editing has been done in an effort to make deadline. Apologies in advance!

"I'm going to push it," she whispers, mouth open and sucking on his shoulder through his shirt, leaving a darkened wet patch she notices with no small pride. He gulps audibly and her eyes snap to

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[thenakedcupcake]

There's a beautiful cave between her legs where her skirt beckons with its tempting darkness. She tries to keep her knees together but every time his hands slowly run up the length of her calf she sighs and parts them, just slightly, just enough to make him that much harder.

“Rose.” He doesn't know why he says her name, but he does. The butterfly wings of her eyelashes flutter at him, hazel honey colored eyes stare him down as she curls her toes in his palm. He can still see fire in those eyes.

One finger follows a ladder in the gray stocking, stopping at her knee. He's not warming her feet any longer. This is different. She shivers, stretches, baring her neck as her head leans back and if this isn't an invitation he doesn't know what is.

He presses a single kiss to the top of her foot. Lets his lips climb the steps of that ladder, reaching the top and raising an eyebrow in her direction. There's a flash of white as she bites her lip and giggles, bells in her chest, letting her arms collapse as she lays back flat on the bed.

He can taste her skin as he swipes his curious tongue along her inner thigh. She tastes like snow and harsh cold air and cinnamon.

His fingers find a tear and he rips the stockings down the length of her left leg. A groan meets her thigh as he presses his mouth there, and she mumbles something to God as he lets his teeth scrape against her skin.

YOU MEAN LIKE HOW YOU DO THIS BB?