(no subject)
Title Riding the Waves
Fandom Stargate: Atlantis
Paring Sheppard/Weir
Rating NC-17
Summary AU of The Return. Written for the swficathon.
“Sorry about the mess,” a slightly sheepish Elizabeth said as she opened the door to her apartment and John followed her in.
They had just finished having diner with Rodney and Carson. When he hesitated going back SGC, she took pity on him and invited him back to her place.
She knew what living at the SGC was like, it was dark and gray and there was no escape for people wanting your attention for something that they thought was a life or death situation. She knew from personal experience, having lived on base and dealt with being hounded by officers and scientists alike, for a few months until she found her own place off base.
He hadn't really planned to say anything about the take-out containers and newspapers scattered about the apartment; his quarters in the SGC weren't looking much better these days.
The state of her apartment was rather telling, though, and he could understand Carson's concern for her. By Elizabeth Weir's standards, her apartment was an absolute disaster. He had seen her let her quarters and her office get cluttered on Atlantis, but never like this. It reminded him of the dorm rooms of some of his friends; take out containers and photocopies from reference books scattered about, forgotten in the rush to finish a last minute term paper or cram for that final exam.
“Watch the books,” she said, pointing blindly towards a very formidable looking pile of books as she moved further into the room, gathering some of the loose papers into a messy pile before dropping them to the ground beside the couch.
“Do you get a prize if you read your own weight in books?” he joked as he wandered over and glanced at the titles. He couldn't help but smirk a little when he saw a worn soft cover of “War and Peace.” She smirked as she gathered the trash and brought it with her into the kitchen.
“I wish,” she called form the kitchen. John wasn't all that surprised to see her come back into the living room with a couple of beers. She handed him one as he kicked off his shoes and made his way over to the couch.
“So, you had Rodney pretty worried there for a while,” John said, toying with the label on his bottle. He'd have to wait for the condensation to loosen the glue before he could peel it off in one piece.
“Did I?”
“He was a freakin' out a little on the phone the other day about how you seemed to have dropped off the face of the planet,” he finished, finally looking up from the bottle to judge her reaction.
He watched as her head dropped forward and she focused on her beer, picking at the corner of the label much like he had been doing.
“I just. . . . I just needed some time,” she finally said, not looking away from her bottle. John nodded, unsure if she could see it or not. He understood what she meant.
He would have liked some time too, but the military had other ideas and he soon found himself going through the gate with one inept team member after another.
“Do you miss it?” she asked quietly.
“The city?” She finally looked at him and nodded. “Every day,” he answered honestly. It wasn't as bad as it had been when they'd first arrived back on Earth, but he still ached for Atlantis, especially while watching the gate slowly spin instead of being able to watch the constellation light up as the right one was locked.
“Anything you're glad about?”
He considered his answer to this question for a moment. She was obviously searching for something in a round about way and how he answered this question would affect the rest of their conversation.
John started to peel the label off the bottle while he tried to come up with an answer that would keep her talking; he had a feeling she needed this conversation.
Every so often, usually late at night, they'd find each other on Atlantis, usually in the mess but preferably some out of the way lounge and they talk about nothing and everything at the same time, using stories about other people on the expedition to say what they couldn't about themselves.
“I'm glad we all made it home safe,” he finally said. “I'm also glad about surfing.”
“Surfing?” she asked, her eyes focusing on him immediately as she tried to figure out where he'd gone surfing in Colorado.
“Or at least the possibility of it. With all that ocean on Lantea, there were no decent waves. Well, they would have been decent for someone who'd never surfed before, but other than that? Nothing.” He flashed a smile at her and she felt slightly lighter than she had in a long time.
“Well, as long as you're not sneaking off somewhere hot and exotic without me.”
“Elizabeth, I would never sneak off to surf without dragging you along,” he assured her. “Did you promise to let me teach you at some point?”
Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall this 'conversation'.
“I think I remember you trying to talk me into declaring surf boards an expedition essential,” she admitted with a small grin that got a little larger when his smile threatened to split his face.
“Fine,” he said. “Next time I jet off to Hawaii, I'll bring you along. I do have a rule about nice beaches though, if you got it, flaunt it.”
Elizabeth's eyebrow arched up at this as he leaned back on the couch, keeping an eye on her as he took a long pull from his bottle.
“If you got it, flaunt it?” she asked, leaning back as well and crossing her arms over her chest.
The effect this position had on her chest wasn't lost on John. He was a guy who'd had a little too much to drink after all and, even if she didn't think so, she definitely had it.
“Yup,” he said, feeling brave and deciding to plunge ahead with this conversation. “The more skin, the better.”
“Hmmm, well I guess I'm never going surfing with you then,” she said calmly as she relaxed into the couch a little more and took another sip of beer.
“But you promised you'd come!” he said, sounding more like a whinny kid then he wanted to.
“A tasteful two-piece then,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. “I'd hate to see a grown Lt. Col. Cry.” He chuckled in victory as this.
“Something in red?” he asked hopefully.
“Perhaps.” He allowed himself to drift away from the conversation as a vision of Elizabeth in a 'tasteful' (his definition) red two-piece danced through his mind.
Elizabeth watched in mild amusement as John drifted away into what she could only assume was a little daydream.
“Are you back?” she asked when his eyes seemed to focus again.
“I'm back,” he sighed.
“Was it hot?” If he could tease her, she could certainly tease him. She watched a crooked smirk appear on his face as he nodded at her. “What about you? Do you do the whole wet suit thing?”
“Hell no,” he replied, tossing back the last of his beer. “A nice pair of boar shorts is all I need. That and a good board.”
Elizabeth took her turn in letting her mind drift. If he could imagine red bikinis, she could imagine board shorts slung almost too low on narrow hips and bare chests.
“Are you back?” he asked after a moment.
“I suppose,” she replied with a sigh as she finished the last of her beer. “Hawaiian print?” she asked.
“When in Rome. . . “ he replied with a shrug and she nodded in agreement. They grew quiet for a moment before she began asking him about surfing, learning what she could from him. It felt good to take her mind off of Atlantis and her lack of focus now that she was stuck on Earth again.
Slowly, more beer was brought into the room with them and as they talked about everything, they slowly drifted closer together, each searching for some kind of closeness and understanding that they were missing in their lives at the moment. They had drifted into a somewhat awkward silence when a clock somewhere in her apartment reminded them of just what time it really was.
“I, uh, I should probably go,” he finally said, standing up after the last chime had finished.
“You don't have to,” she said quickly as she stood up too and they found themselves practically standing toe to toe. “I have a spare room,” she said, finally looking him in the eye.
“That's nice,” he said quietly, sounding somewhat distracted as he found himself getting lost in her eyes.
“Yeah,” she replied, just as quietly. A moment of silence seemed to settle over the two as neither made any moves to head towards the door.
“John?” she asked after a long moment. He didn't reply to her question. Instead, he licked his lips slightly and sucked in a quick break as he brought his hands up to caress her face for a moment before holding it gently and leaning forward to kiss her.
It was slow and gentle and she couldn't help but slide her hands up and loop them around his neck, pulling him slightly closer as she added slightly more urgency to the kiss.
When they finally broke apart, they stared at each other for a long time, each trying to decide what to do without saying anything.
Eventually, she made the choice for him when she tugged him back down to meet her half way for another kiss.
This time, his hands didn't stay on her face, they drifted, slowly, until one resting at the base of her skull while the other snaked down her side and came to rest on the small of her back, pulling her tighter against him.
She let her body mould to his, relishing the close contact as she allowed a hand to drift down his back as well, taking her time to feel the lithe muscles beneath her hand. Lugging all those injured team members back through the gate was apparently doing him good.
“Sure?” he muttered, pulling away from her a fraction of an inch.
“Surf's up,” she muttered with a curve of a smile that he returned before kissing her again.
Slowly, she began to lead them towards her room, stepping backwards gingerly, hoping her memory of where things were stacked was accurate and that she wouldn't send them both sprawling onto the floor.
As they went, he managed to get the clip out of her hair while she undid some of the buttons on his shirt. As they passed the thresh hold to the bedroom, he reached behind her and undid her necklace, tossing it gently onto her dresser.
“I'm glad you grew it out,” he commented absently, running his fingers through her hair.
“No choice really,” she replied with a smile, still working on buttons. “I didn't trust any of you with a pair of scissors.” He chuckled as she got the last button free and he shrugged his shirt off before quickly pulling her sweater over her head.
“Wear less red,” he muttered as he kissed her again, dropping the sweater to the ground.
She didn't reply to his request, instead she contented herself with memorizing what had been revealed of him with her hands.
They quickly began to loose themselves in each other and before either of them really realized it, they were both naked, on her bed and battling for dominance.
John eventually won and in the back of his head, figured this would be good for Elizabeth to not be in charge for once. He quickly focused his attention on her before she could turn the tables on him and smirked at the gasp she let loose when he finally skimmed his hand up her side to cup a breast.
Not one to simply be a spectator, Elizabeth skimmed a hand of her own down his body until she found his arousal, pleased that his hand tightened every so slightly when she ran a finger as far down his length as she could reach.
In an attempt to get away from her hand, John shift ever so slightly and took her other breast into his mouth. She gasped again and he felt slightly more secure in his dominance of the situation.
“John,” she breathed after a moment. He pulled away to look at her before straightening slightly. He kissed her firmly before trailing kisses down her neck and body, settling himself firmly out of her reach between her legs.
She shuddered a little in sheer anticipation and he didn't bother testing her, he simply dove in, a mess of hands and tongue that drove her wild. He used a hand to hold her steady while he worked, more than a little pleased at the noises she was making.
“Let go,” he muttered after a few moments, realizing that the tremors were more from her trying to stay in control that anything else. She stayed mostly silent, save for a few muffled moans but he would have none of it. “
Let go,” he said again, driving his fingers into her more firmly, searching for that one elusive spot. He moved up her body slightly, fingers still buried inside her and locked eyes with her.
With a moan that sounded almost regretful, she came, shuddering and clenching around him as he continued to move his hand, riding out the climax with her.
“Good,” he said as he pulled out of her, leaving a wet trail up her abdomen as he pulled himself over her to capture her mouth once again. The fact that he had made a statement rather than a question wasn't lost on her.
“Good,” she replied as she wrapped herself around him slightly, curling a leg around his hips, opening herself to him fully. He groaned as his erection brushed her wet heat and she smiled, snaking a free hand down between them to grasp him firmly, sliding her hand along his length as he continued to kiss her.
“Now,” she said when he made no moves to enter her. She was tired of the empty feeling that had settled between her legs after his finger had left her.
“Patience,” he muttered with a smirk she could feel.
Patience, however, was not something Elizabeth Weir had in mind at the moment.
With a strength that shocked him, Elizabeth managed to turn them so she was on top. She grinned triumphantly at him for a moment before she began to move slowly down his body, intent of seeking some revenge from him for trying to make her wait.
Pausing to lavish attention on what she considered key John Sheppard land marks, she couldn't help but adopt a pleased smirk herself when she heard him gasp and moan while trying to keep himself from tangling his hands in her hair.
She skimmed his erection, teasing him with the lightest of touches until she hear him almost growl in frustration.
“Patience,” she threw back at him, and all he could do was let his head thump back against the pillows and let her have her wicked way with him.
Her wicked way did not disappoint. When she finally grasped him, she let her toungue glide slowly up the underside of his cock, taking special care to run it firmly under the ridge of the head.
He groaned and this time his hands did find her hair and she tensed slightly, expecting him to force her movements, something she hated. Instead, he simply tried to gently urge her higher.
She ignored him and took her time before finally swallowing him. He lost himself in the little things her tongue was doing until he felt the knot in the pit of his stomach begin to tighten and he became more insistent in trying to guide her upward.
Like so many other times in their relationship, she seemed to read his mind and with one last tantalizing lick, she allowed him to guide her up his body until she was leaning over him
“A cunning linguist indeed,” he quipped quietly, kissing her once more before dropping his hands to her hips while she reached for him and held him firmly as she slid down onto him, something she did almost agonizingly slowly.
They both let out mutual noises of appreciation when she finally settled against his hips, both enjoying the feel of the other. She sat for a moment before she finally started to move in, slow, tight circles that drove him nutty. “Oh God,” was all he got out as he grasped her hips more firmly. She let him take control of her movements, guiding her to a faster, harder rhythm.
“So good,” was all she got out she shifted her weight slightly, allowing herself even more leverage as he ran a hand across her front and down until he found her clit. His thumb pressed into her in firm, tight circles and she knew she wasn't going to last much longer.
She leaned forward, crushing his hand between them as she traced the shell of his ear with her tongue.
“Let go,” she whispered to him before she straightened up. With an incoherent grunt, he did just that, thrusting up into her firmly, releasing himself into her and reveling in the feel of her.
As he tightened beneath her, she couldn't hold off her own climax and she came again with a hoarse cry, clenching him tightly, milking him until she couldn't hold herself upright anymore.
With a satisfied sigh, she collapsed forward onto his chest and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close to him as they both tried to catch their breath.
“I've changed my mind,” he muttered after she had crawled off of him and curled into his side. He felt her tense.
“About?” she asked, not turning to look at him.
“You can't have the tasteful two piece,” he whispered in her ear. “And it won't be red,” he decided. “It'll be black and stringy and completely inappropriate to be seen in public with.”
She relaxed when she hear this, a smile forming on her face as she pictured the two of them somewhere hot, a couple of long boards between them.
“I'll think about it,” she assured him as she relaxed into his embrace and let sleep start to claim her.
“Don't think to hard,” he muttered as he let himself join her.
Fandom Stargate: Atlantis
Paring Sheppard/Weir
Rating NC-17
Summary AU of The Return. Written for the swficathon.
“Sorry about the mess,” a slightly sheepish Elizabeth said as she opened the door to her apartment and John followed her in.
They had just finished having diner with Rodney and Carson. When he hesitated going back SGC, she took pity on him and invited him back to her place.
She knew what living at the SGC was like, it was dark and gray and there was no escape for people wanting your attention for something that they thought was a life or death situation. She knew from personal experience, having lived on base and dealt with being hounded by officers and scientists alike, for a few months until she found her own place off base.
He hadn't really planned to say anything about the take-out containers and newspapers scattered about the apartment; his quarters in the SGC weren't looking much better these days.
The state of her apartment was rather telling, though, and he could understand Carson's concern for her. By Elizabeth Weir's standards, her apartment was an absolute disaster. He had seen her let her quarters and her office get cluttered on Atlantis, but never like this. It reminded him of the dorm rooms of some of his friends; take out containers and photocopies from reference books scattered about, forgotten in the rush to finish a last minute term paper or cram for that final exam.
“Watch the books,” she said, pointing blindly towards a very formidable looking pile of books as she moved further into the room, gathering some of the loose papers into a messy pile before dropping them to the ground beside the couch.
“Do you get a prize if you read your own weight in books?” he joked as he wandered over and glanced at the titles. He couldn't help but smirk a little when he saw a worn soft cover of “War and Peace.” She smirked as she gathered the trash and brought it with her into the kitchen.
“I wish,” she called form the kitchen. John wasn't all that surprised to see her come back into the living room with a couple of beers. She handed him one as he kicked off his shoes and made his way over to the couch.
“So, you had Rodney pretty worried there for a while,” John said, toying with the label on his bottle. He'd have to wait for the condensation to loosen the glue before he could peel it off in one piece.
“Did I?”
“He was a freakin' out a little on the phone the other day about how you seemed to have dropped off the face of the planet,” he finished, finally looking up from the bottle to judge her reaction.
He watched as her head dropped forward and she focused on her beer, picking at the corner of the label much like he had been doing.
“I just. . . . I just needed some time,” she finally said, not looking away from her bottle. John nodded, unsure if she could see it or not. He understood what she meant.
He would have liked some time too, but the military had other ideas and he soon found himself going through the gate with one inept team member after another.
“Do you miss it?” she asked quietly.
“The city?” She finally looked at him and nodded. “Every day,” he answered honestly. It wasn't as bad as it had been when they'd first arrived back on Earth, but he still ached for Atlantis, especially while watching the gate slowly spin instead of being able to watch the constellation light up as the right one was locked.
“Anything you're glad about?”
He considered his answer to this question for a moment. She was obviously searching for something in a round about way and how he answered this question would affect the rest of their conversation.
John started to peel the label off the bottle while he tried to come up with an answer that would keep her talking; he had a feeling she needed this conversation.
Every so often, usually late at night, they'd find each other on Atlantis, usually in the mess but preferably some out of the way lounge and they talk about nothing and everything at the same time, using stories about other people on the expedition to say what they couldn't about themselves.
“I'm glad we all made it home safe,” he finally said. “I'm also glad about surfing.”
“Surfing?” she asked, her eyes focusing on him immediately as she tried to figure out where he'd gone surfing in Colorado.
“Or at least the possibility of it. With all that ocean on Lantea, there were no decent waves. Well, they would have been decent for someone who'd never surfed before, but other than that? Nothing.” He flashed a smile at her and she felt slightly lighter than she had in a long time.
“Well, as long as you're not sneaking off somewhere hot and exotic without me.”
“Elizabeth, I would never sneak off to surf without dragging you along,” he assured her. “Did you promise to let me teach you at some point?”
Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall this 'conversation'.
“I think I remember you trying to talk me into declaring surf boards an expedition essential,” she admitted with a small grin that got a little larger when his smile threatened to split his face.
“Fine,” he said. “Next time I jet off to Hawaii, I'll bring you along. I do have a rule about nice beaches though, if you got it, flaunt it.”
Elizabeth's eyebrow arched up at this as he leaned back on the couch, keeping an eye on her as he took a long pull from his bottle.
“If you got it, flaunt it?” she asked, leaning back as well and crossing her arms over her chest.
The effect this position had on her chest wasn't lost on John. He was a guy who'd had a little too much to drink after all and, even if she didn't think so, she definitely had it.
“Yup,” he said, feeling brave and deciding to plunge ahead with this conversation. “The more skin, the better.”
“Hmmm, well I guess I'm never going surfing with you then,” she said calmly as she relaxed into the couch a little more and took another sip of beer.
“But you promised you'd come!” he said, sounding more like a whinny kid then he wanted to.
“A tasteful two-piece then,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. “I'd hate to see a grown Lt. Col. Cry.” He chuckled in victory as this.
“Something in red?” he asked hopefully.
“Perhaps.” He allowed himself to drift away from the conversation as a vision of Elizabeth in a 'tasteful' (his definition) red two-piece danced through his mind.
Elizabeth watched in mild amusement as John drifted away into what she could only assume was a little daydream.
“Are you back?” she asked when his eyes seemed to focus again.
“I'm back,” he sighed.
“Was it hot?” If he could tease her, she could certainly tease him. She watched a crooked smirk appear on his face as he nodded at her. “What about you? Do you do the whole wet suit thing?”
“Hell no,” he replied, tossing back the last of his beer. “A nice pair of boar shorts is all I need. That and a good board.”
Elizabeth took her turn in letting her mind drift. If he could imagine red bikinis, she could imagine board shorts slung almost too low on narrow hips and bare chests.
“Are you back?” he asked after a moment.
“I suppose,” she replied with a sigh as she finished the last of her beer. “Hawaiian print?” she asked.
“When in Rome. . . “ he replied with a shrug and she nodded in agreement. They grew quiet for a moment before she began asking him about surfing, learning what she could from him. It felt good to take her mind off of Atlantis and her lack of focus now that she was stuck on Earth again.
Slowly, more beer was brought into the room with them and as they talked about everything, they slowly drifted closer together, each searching for some kind of closeness and understanding that they were missing in their lives at the moment. They had drifted into a somewhat awkward silence when a clock somewhere in her apartment reminded them of just what time it really was.
“I, uh, I should probably go,” he finally said, standing up after the last chime had finished.
“You don't have to,” she said quickly as she stood up too and they found themselves practically standing toe to toe. “I have a spare room,” she said, finally looking him in the eye.
“That's nice,” he said quietly, sounding somewhat distracted as he found himself getting lost in her eyes.
“Yeah,” she replied, just as quietly. A moment of silence seemed to settle over the two as neither made any moves to head towards the door.
“John?” she asked after a long moment. He didn't reply to her question. Instead, he licked his lips slightly and sucked in a quick break as he brought his hands up to caress her face for a moment before holding it gently and leaning forward to kiss her.
It was slow and gentle and she couldn't help but slide her hands up and loop them around his neck, pulling him slightly closer as she added slightly more urgency to the kiss.
When they finally broke apart, they stared at each other for a long time, each trying to decide what to do without saying anything.
Eventually, she made the choice for him when she tugged him back down to meet her half way for another kiss.
This time, his hands didn't stay on her face, they drifted, slowly, until one resting at the base of her skull while the other snaked down her side and came to rest on the small of her back, pulling her tighter against him.
She let her body mould to his, relishing the close contact as she allowed a hand to drift down his back as well, taking her time to feel the lithe muscles beneath her hand. Lugging all those injured team members back through the gate was apparently doing him good.
“Sure?” he muttered, pulling away from her a fraction of an inch.
“Surf's up,” she muttered with a curve of a smile that he returned before kissing her again.
Slowly, she began to lead them towards her room, stepping backwards gingerly, hoping her memory of where things were stacked was accurate and that she wouldn't send them both sprawling onto the floor.
As they went, he managed to get the clip out of her hair while she undid some of the buttons on his shirt. As they passed the thresh hold to the bedroom, he reached behind her and undid her necklace, tossing it gently onto her dresser.
“I'm glad you grew it out,” he commented absently, running his fingers through her hair.
“No choice really,” she replied with a smile, still working on buttons. “I didn't trust any of you with a pair of scissors.” He chuckled as she got the last button free and he shrugged his shirt off before quickly pulling her sweater over her head.
“Wear less red,” he muttered as he kissed her again, dropping the sweater to the ground.
She didn't reply to his request, instead she contented herself with memorizing what had been revealed of him with her hands.
They quickly began to loose themselves in each other and before either of them really realized it, they were both naked, on her bed and battling for dominance.
John eventually won and in the back of his head, figured this would be good for Elizabeth to not be in charge for once. He quickly focused his attention on her before she could turn the tables on him and smirked at the gasp she let loose when he finally skimmed his hand up her side to cup a breast.
Not one to simply be a spectator, Elizabeth skimmed a hand of her own down his body until she found his arousal, pleased that his hand tightened every so slightly when she ran a finger as far down his length as she could reach.
In an attempt to get away from her hand, John shift ever so slightly and took her other breast into his mouth. She gasped again and he felt slightly more secure in his dominance of the situation.
“John,” she breathed after a moment. He pulled away to look at her before straightening slightly. He kissed her firmly before trailing kisses down her neck and body, settling himself firmly out of her reach between her legs.
She shuddered a little in sheer anticipation and he didn't bother testing her, he simply dove in, a mess of hands and tongue that drove her wild. He used a hand to hold her steady while he worked, more than a little pleased at the noises she was making.
“Let go,” he muttered after a few moments, realizing that the tremors were more from her trying to stay in control that anything else. She stayed mostly silent, save for a few muffled moans but he would have none of it. “
Let go,” he said again, driving his fingers into her more firmly, searching for that one elusive spot. He moved up her body slightly, fingers still buried inside her and locked eyes with her.
With a moan that sounded almost regretful, she came, shuddering and clenching around him as he continued to move his hand, riding out the climax with her.
“Good,” he said as he pulled out of her, leaving a wet trail up her abdomen as he pulled himself over her to capture her mouth once again. The fact that he had made a statement rather than a question wasn't lost on her.
“Good,” she replied as she wrapped herself around him slightly, curling a leg around his hips, opening herself to him fully. He groaned as his erection brushed her wet heat and she smiled, snaking a free hand down between them to grasp him firmly, sliding her hand along his length as he continued to kiss her.
“Now,” she said when he made no moves to enter her. She was tired of the empty feeling that had settled between her legs after his finger had left her.
“Patience,” he muttered with a smirk she could feel.
Patience, however, was not something Elizabeth Weir had in mind at the moment.
With a strength that shocked him, Elizabeth managed to turn them so she was on top. She grinned triumphantly at him for a moment before she began to move slowly down his body, intent of seeking some revenge from him for trying to make her wait.
Pausing to lavish attention on what she considered key John Sheppard land marks, she couldn't help but adopt a pleased smirk herself when she heard him gasp and moan while trying to keep himself from tangling his hands in her hair.
She skimmed his erection, teasing him with the lightest of touches until she hear him almost growl in frustration.
“Patience,” she threw back at him, and all he could do was let his head thump back against the pillows and let her have her wicked way with him.
Her wicked way did not disappoint. When she finally grasped him, she let her toungue glide slowly up the underside of his cock, taking special care to run it firmly under the ridge of the head.
He groaned and this time his hands did find her hair and she tensed slightly, expecting him to force her movements, something she hated. Instead, he simply tried to gently urge her higher.
She ignored him and took her time before finally swallowing him. He lost himself in the little things her tongue was doing until he felt the knot in the pit of his stomach begin to tighten and he became more insistent in trying to guide her upward.
Like so many other times in their relationship, she seemed to read his mind and with one last tantalizing lick, she allowed him to guide her up his body until she was leaning over him
“A cunning linguist indeed,” he quipped quietly, kissing her once more before dropping his hands to her hips while she reached for him and held him firmly as she slid down onto him, something she did almost agonizingly slowly.
They both let out mutual noises of appreciation when she finally settled against his hips, both enjoying the feel of the other. She sat for a moment before she finally started to move in, slow, tight circles that drove him nutty. “Oh God,” was all he got out as he grasped her hips more firmly. She let him take control of her movements, guiding her to a faster, harder rhythm.
“So good,” was all she got out she shifted her weight slightly, allowing herself even more leverage as he ran a hand across her front and down until he found her clit. His thumb pressed into her in firm, tight circles and she knew she wasn't going to last much longer.
She leaned forward, crushing his hand between them as she traced the shell of his ear with her tongue.
“Let go,” she whispered to him before she straightened up. With an incoherent grunt, he did just that, thrusting up into her firmly, releasing himself into her and reveling in the feel of her.
As he tightened beneath her, she couldn't hold off her own climax and she came again with a hoarse cry, clenching him tightly, milking him until she couldn't hold herself upright anymore.
With a satisfied sigh, she collapsed forward onto his chest and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close to him as they both tried to catch their breath.
“I've changed my mind,” he muttered after she had crawled off of him and curled into his side. He felt her tense.
“About?” she asked, not turning to look at him.
“You can't have the tasteful two piece,” he whispered in her ear. “And it won't be red,” he decided. “It'll be black and stringy and completely inappropriate to be seen in public with.”
She relaxed when she hear this, a smile forming on her face as she pictured the two of them somewhere hot, a couple of long boards between them.
“I'll think about it,” she assured him as she relaxed into his embrace and let sleep start to claim her.
“Don't think to hard,” he muttered as he let himself join her.