[fic] A Close Shave, part 2 of 2
Title: A Close Shave (part 2 of 2)
Author: icedteainthebag
Summary: Laura Roslin needs some assistance.
Spoilers: none
Pairing: Laura/Bill
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,807
Notes: I wrote this for dashakay, simply because she asked me. And because it's a hot idea. Thanks to sleepismyfriend for "Sweet asses of Kobol" and to katamaran78 for flavor saver.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, nor am I making any profit from playing around with them.
Here's Part 1 in case you need it.
Bill can't quite remember a time when he was quite as turned on as he was after he ordered Laura to get on the couch. So he could shave her. The rest of her.
And he knows she wants it, and that not only makes him aroused, but also instills in him a kind of boyish glee, one akin to receiving a new bicycle on your tenth birthday. With streamers on the handles.
She brings the bowl of shaving cream and the brush to the couch and sets them on the coffee table. He watches her walk, enjoying the view of her bare ass as she strides away.
She's carrying herself rather well considering the circumstances, he thinks as he walks toward her. She plops down on the couch, her knees together, and leans over to speak to him.
""Bill, are you sure you want to do this?" she asks.
"Who wouldn't?" he responds.
She laughs and gives him a look best described as admonishing, one he's seen a dozen times before, but this time, it's a little playful, a tad bit shy. This he likes. He sits down on the coffee table in front of her and looks at her. She's still sitting upright, prim and proper, wearing only her bra.
"You're going to have to lean back and...let me in there," he says.
"Let you in there," she repeats, arching her eyebrow. "My, my, Admiral. A little forward, aren't we?"
She smiles, seemingly satisfied at his slight blush, and settles back on the pillows. He watches as she scoots her bottom to the very edge of the couch before letting her legs fall apart a little. He doesn't look away from her eyes as she does this, and he hopes she doesn't look away from his, because he's currently hard as a rock and it's got to be fairly obvious.
"What are you waiting for?" she says softly, spreading her legs a little more. His eyes wander down her body and he fights to keep his jaw from falling slack.
He picks up the bowl and the brush, swirls up a lather, and tilts his head, wondering where exactly to start. Laughter again fills the air and he looks into her eyes again, and she's smiling at him. Grinning.
"Just do it," she says. "You won't hurt me, Bill."
"Oh no," he says, leaning in, placing his hand on her bare, warm thigh. "I won't hurt you at all."
x x x x
Laura watches him lean in and she's afraid her heart is going to literally beat itself out of her chest. He places his hand on her leg and it's electric, and it's just her leg.
She feels the brush graze over the soft patch of hair between her legs and she tilts her head back, eyes blinking, panting and looking toward the ceiling. She lets her feet slide on the carpet a little more, giving him more room to work. He presses the brush harder against her, swirling, and she can feel the liberal application of the shaving cream against her skin.
The more he swirls, the more it starts to tickle, and she bites her lip and rolls her eyes, her laugh coming out as a kind of choked-sounding giggle.
"You all right?" she hears him say from down there. She suddenly realizes more than ever what's going on when she hears his voice.
"Oh, yes, Bill, I'm just fine," she says airily, tapping her fingernails on the couch cushion. "Just...please be careful, okay?"
He laughs, a chuckle that makes her tingle in all the right places. "I'll take my time."
"Oh Gods," she breathes, and blushes when she realizes she said it out loud.
She feels the cold metal edge of the razor against her skin and her body twitches with a giggle. She looks down and he looks up at her at the same time, an amused look on his face.
"Now," he says, giving her his 'I mean business' face, "If you jump around like that, you're going to get hurt."
"I promise," she says, tilting her head and giving him a sheepish smile. "I promise I'll sit still."
"Good," he answers as his eyes drift between her legs again, and the expression on his face changes from bemused to intent. He's concentrating and she watches this time, feeling the razor slide slowly against sensitive skin, cold against hot.
She's incredibly turned on, but is actually more fascinated by how Bill is treating this seemingly as some sort of art project, delicately shaving here and there, his fingers separating her fold gently, sending waves of nervous pleasure from those points outward. He doesn't take his eyes away from his work, and she feels the razor glide over delicate curves.
"How's it going down there?" Laura asks, putting her hand on his the top of his head lightly. She threads her fingers through his hair and he tilts his head up to look her in the eyes.
"It's..." he chuckles and she covers her face with her hand, giggling again. "It's certainly an exotic experience. But I think I'm finished, actually."
"Exotic??" she peers at him through her spread fingers, grinning. "Bill, I know it may have been a little bit overgrown, but it's certainly not a jungle down there."
She feels him run his fingers softly down the cool, now exposed flesh between her legs and she shudders with a sharp gasp. Her hand falls to cover her mouth and she bites on her finger and keeps his gaze. His fingers trickle up and down, over and over, and she knows he's making her wet and that he's got to have noticed by now what he's doing to her, what he's been doing to her for longer than she's willing to admit.
"It looks good," he says, pressing his cheek against her knee, his fingers dawdling around her outer lips, teasing her incessantly.
"It feels good," she responds softly, stroking his scalp with her fingernails.
He doesn't look away as his fingers slide just inside her folds, stroking up and down slowly. "Soft," he whispers, his fingers sliding over her clit. Her hips buck gently to his caress as she moans.
"More," she breathes. She can barely hear herself speak.
x x x x
Laura Roslin just let him shave her pussy.
His life is pretty frakking good right now.
He hears her breathe her request for more when he starts circling his fingers over her clit--he's not sure how they ended up there and assumes they were just magnetically pulled there somehow, seeking out the most direct way to make her make more of those little moans from deep in her throat.
"Hmmm," he says, feeling his cock throbbing pretty gods damn hard in his pants as his fingers slide down her inner folds. He's secretly memorizing the feel of them on his fingertips as they watch each other's eyes for any sort of reaction. She's staring at him and seems intently curious as to his next actions, her teeth scraping over her bottom lip.
He nudges his fingers inside of her, just an inch into her heat, and she whimpers and closes her eyes, pushing her hips into his hand. He slides them in a little further, turning his head to kiss the inside of her knee. She's so wet it's making his heart pound.
She moves her hips with him as he presses his palm against her cool, bare skin, grinding into her and dipping his fingers in and out in a slow rhythm. He gets the sudden urge to join her on the couch, to press his body against her side while he's feeling her this way, and so he does without leaving her unattended.
He presses his mouth to her neck, his hand nestled between her legs, and watches her face--brow knit, lips parted with short breath as she works a little harder against his hand.
She turns her head to look into his eyes and she kisses his cheek. Her moan is hot against his face as he grinds his fingers deeply into her.
"What are we doing?" she asks quietly, the words tickling his ear.
"What does it feel like we're doing?" he responds, a tingle falling down his body from head to toe.
She kisses his forehead, a long, lingering kiss, then pulls away from him and lies back on the couch, one leg on the floor. He looks at her body, long limbs splayed out gracefully, hair spread across one of his throw pillows, perfect in disarray. She has a slightly rounded tummy that leads to firm breasts, still snugly trapped in her bra.
She notices him looking at her chest and reaches around to unfasten and remove her bra. She tosses it across the room and smiles at him, a little triumphant. "Better?"
He nods, running his fingers down one of her legs. "Beautiful."
The flush spreads across her cheeks and her chest. "Thank you."
They look into each other's eyes for a long while--he's not questioning these steps they're taking, but wants to make sure everything's done in the right time, that he doesn't take things too quickly or too slowly.
It's like she reads his mind. "Come here," she whispers. "Out of your clothes."
He stands up and sheds his uniform, feeling her eyes on him as he removes his layers. When he's completely naked he tosses his tanks to the coffee table and sits back down next to her knees, placing his hand on her thigh.
"Mmmmm," she murmurs, pulling at his fingers with her hand. Her hands are soft--he realizes it's the first time he's paid attention to that, the silky texture of her skin. "Bill. Please."
He bends over, kissing her abdomen, then slides to his knees on the floor to kiss the insides of her thighs. He knows where he wants to go and makes quick work of getting there. He's waited too long.
x x x x
His mouth on her thigh sets her ablaze inside and she resists the urge to grab him by the hair and push his face into where she wants it the most, knowing he'll get there in his own good time. She can feel the flicks of his tongue all the way up to the juncture of her thigh and hip, then down over her newly shaven skin--she still can't believe she let him do that to her, but as quickly as she tells herself that, she actually can't believe they haven't done this already.
His tongue glides over the bare skin of her folds and a squeak escapes her lips as a jolt of electricity passes through her. She looks down and he's looking up at her, smiling against her as his tongue explores intricate, silken lines and spaces. It feels amazing.
"Mmmm," she murmurs, sliding one thigh over his shoulder, lifting her hips to his mouth.
"Good?" he says, lapping at her in a long, languid stroke.
"Yes," she says. "And you?"
He laps again, the tip of his tongue finding her clit. Her body shudders delightfully in response. "It tastes a little funny, like shaving cream," he confesses with a laugh and another long lick.
She giggles and runs her hand through his hair as he continues running his tongue over her. Her hips move to his rhythm, rocking against his mouth. "Stop, if you want," she says, though she doesn't mean it. She wouldn't let him if he tried.
"Mmmm mmmm," comes his negative murmur against her flesh. He starts working her most sensitive spot harder with his tongue, circling, flicking, and causing her to writhe and arch her back as she feels waves of warm pleasure slowly building.
"Yeah," she breathes, "Oh, yes, like that," and he's doing something wicked with his tongue, incredibly, inexplicably wicked, "please, yes, yeah..."
She tilts her head back and lets him take her over, slowly guiding her to freefall. She feels it spark through her body with one last flutter of his tongue and she clutches at his hair, whimpering several times as she comes.
She doesn't open her eyes until she can feel him hovering over her body, can smell the soft scent of her on his skin. She tilts her head up and he kisses her lips, gently at first. She runs her tongue along his bottom lip, tasting herself, and slips it inside his mouth to seek more.
He settles between her legs so easily, so perfectly. It shouldn't be so surprising that they fit together so well. She runs her fingernails down his back.
x x x x
Laura's body feels amazing pressed against his, soft in some places, hard in others, her hipbones pressing into his as she wraps her legs around his waist, inviting him in as she explores his mouth with her tongue, gently, easily.
They break their kiss as he nudges inside of her, just a bit at first. He sees her eyes widen slightly, sees a faint wave of uncertainty pass over her face. He kisses the tip of her nose and holds back.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly, looking into her eyes.
She smiles, pushing her forehead against his playfully. "Yes. Thank you for asking."
"Shall we continue, Madam President?" he whispers, kissing her hairline, her cheek, her neck.
"You have my explicit permission to do so," she says with a giggle, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He slides inside her and he moves his mouth over hers, lips barely touching as they breathe together, slowly joining. She envelops him with warmth and he sighs deeply at the immediate comfort it brings. She pushes her hips up against him and he responds with a stroke into her, their bodies meeting gently.
"Good Gods," she breathes against his mouth. "Bill."
He kisses her jaw and they begin to move together, a little erratic, a little out of sync at first. It's been a long time since he's frakked someone, not to mention someone on a sofa.
"Yeah," she whispers, and he loves these affirmative statements she makes during sex, like she's signing an order for him to continue.
"Yeah?" he asks, kissing her as his strokes increase in speed. Yes, it's been a long time since he's frakked someone, and this is how he justifies his sudden realization that he is going to come fairly soon. He makes the best out of the time--her tongue invites his into her mouth and he follows, his hands buried in her hair as he thrusts faster, more intently.
Her hips meet his rhythm at last and they both moan out of their kiss, which makes her giggle breathlessly.
"Come on," she says, her eyes slightly mischievous. She twists her hips and he feels a different kind of friction and she keeps him there, her fingernails digging into his back.
"You want me to?" he asks, wondering for a split second if she'll say "no."
"Yes, please," she answers with a curt thrust of her hips upward.
He buries his face in her neck and fraks her harder, feeling the soft, cool skin meeting his own where they're joined, and is reminded of what he did only moments earlier, and something about thinking about the razor and her legs on his counter and tasting her for the first time, combined with the squeeze of her muscles around him, makes him come, his eyes squeezing shut against her hair.
x x x x
Bill is adorable when he comes. He makes this sound like a low growly grunt that she secretly adds to her list of her favorite things about him. His breath on her neck is shallow and hot and she scrapes her fingernails across his shoulder blades, making him shiver.
She smiles, dragging her fingers up to the back of his head, holding him against her neck. "How are you?" she asks, still squeezing around his cock, teasing him.
"Uhhhh," he answers.
"Oh, Gods, Bill," she says, kissing his ear. "That good, huh?"
"Sweet asses of Kobol," he says, his body lodging against hers more snugly. She laughs, and keeps laughing, as her calves slip down the back of his legs and she lets her body relax underneath his.
She likes this feeling--stuck together, bound together in an afterglow. She feels his breathing start to slow against her body and she strokes his hair.
"Don't fall asleep," she says.
"I won't," he says, though he sounds groggy. It makes her smile.
"Bill?" she asks, leaning her cheek against the side of his head. She can feel him kissing her neck through her hair.
"Mmmm?"
"Thank you for letting me use your razor," she says, closing her eyes.
Bill Adama endorses this fic
thanks, xmaidelx
Author: icedteainthebag
Summary: Laura Roslin needs some assistance.
Spoilers: none
Pairing: Laura/Bill
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,807
Notes: I wrote this for dashakay, simply because she asked me. And because it's a hot idea. Thanks to sleepismyfriend for "Sweet asses of Kobol" and to katamaran78 for flavor saver.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, nor am I making any profit from playing around with them.
Here's Part 1 in case you need it.
Bill can't quite remember a time when he was quite as turned on as he was after he ordered Laura to get on the couch. So he could shave her. The rest of her.
And he knows she wants it, and that not only makes him aroused, but also instills in him a kind of boyish glee, one akin to receiving a new bicycle on your tenth birthday. With streamers on the handles.
She brings the bowl of shaving cream and the brush to the couch and sets them on the coffee table. He watches her walk, enjoying the view of her bare ass as she strides away.
She's carrying herself rather well considering the circumstances, he thinks as he walks toward her. She plops down on the couch, her knees together, and leans over to speak to him.
""Bill, are you sure you want to do this?" she asks.
"Who wouldn't?" he responds.
She laughs and gives him a look best described as admonishing, one he's seen a dozen times before, but this time, it's a little playful, a tad bit shy. This he likes. He sits down on the coffee table in front of her and looks at her. She's still sitting upright, prim and proper, wearing only her bra.
"You're going to have to lean back and...let me in there," he says.
"Let you in there," she repeats, arching her eyebrow. "My, my, Admiral. A little forward, aren't we?"
She smiles, seemingly satisfied at his slight blush, and settles back on the pillows. He watches as she scoots her bottom to the very edge of the couch before letting her legs fall apart a little. He doesn't look away from her eyes as she does this, and he hopes she doesn't look away from his, because he's currently hard as a rock and it's got to be fairly obvious.
"What are you waiting for?" she says softly, spreading her legs a little more. His eyes wander down her body and he fights to keep his jaw from falling slack.
He picks up the bowl and the brush, swirls up a lather, and tilts his head, wondering where exactly to start. Laughter again fills the air and he looks into her eyes again, and she's smiling at him. Grinning.
"Just do it," she says. "You won't hurt me, Bill."
"Oh no," he says, leaning in, placing his hand on her bare, warm thigh. "I won't hurt you at all."
x x x x
Laura watches him lean in and she's afraid her heart is going to literally beat itself out of her chest. He places his hand on her leg and it's electric, and it's just her leg.
She feels the brush graze over the soft patch of hair between her legs and she tilts her head back, eyes blinking, panting and looking toward the ceiling. She lets her feet slide on the carpet a little more, giving him more room to work. He presses the brush harder against her, swirling, and she can feel the liberal application of the shaving cream against her skin.
The more he swirls, the more it starts to tickle, and she bites her lip and rolls her eyes, her laugh coming out as a kind of choked-sounding giggle.
"You all right?" she hears him say from down there. She suddenly realizes more than ever what's going on when she hears his voice.
"Oh, yes, Bill, I'm just fine," she says airily, tapping her fingernails on the couch cushion. "Just...please be careful, okay?"
He laughs, a chuckle that makes her tingle in all the right places. "I'll take my time."
"Oh Gods," she breathes, and blushes when she realizes she said it out loud.
She feels the cold metal edge of the razor against her skin and her body twitches with a giggle. She looks down and he looks up at her at the same time, an amused look on his face.
"Now," he says, giving her his 'I mean business' face, "If you jump around like that, you're going to get hurt."
"I promise," she says, tilting her head and giving him a sheepish smile. "I promise I'll sit still."
"Good," he answers as his eyes drift between her legs again, and the expression on his face changes from bemused to intent. He's concentrating and she watches this time, feeling the razor slide slowly against sensitive skin, cold against hot.
She's incredibly turned on, but is actually more fascinated by how Bill is treating this seemingly as some sort of art project, delicately shaving here and there, his fingers separating her fold gently, sending waves of nervous pleasure from those points outward. He doesn't take his eyes away from his work, and she feels the razor glide over delicate curves.
"How's it going down there?" Laura asks, putting her hand on his the top of his head lightly. She threads her fingers through his hair and he tilts his head up to look her in the eyes.
"It's..." he chuckles and she covers her face with her hand, giggling again. "It's certainly an exotic experience. But I think I'm finished, actually."
"Exotic??" she peers at him through her spread fingers, grinning. "Bill, I know it may have been a little bit overgrown, but it's certainly not a jungle down there."
She feels him run his fingers softly down the cool, now exposed flesh between her legs and she shudders with a sharp gasp. Her hand falls to cover her mouth and she bites on her finger and keeps his gaze. His fingers trickle up and down, over and over, and she knows he's making her wet and that he's got to have noticed by now what he's doing to her, what he's been doing to her for longer than she's willing to admit.
"It looks good," he says, pressing his cheek against her knee, his fingers dawdling around her outer lips, teasing her incessantly.
"It feels good," she responds softly, stroking his scalp with her fingernails.
He doesn't look away as his fingers slide just inside her folds, stroking up and down slowly. "Soft," he whispers, his fingers sliding over her clit. Her hips buck gently to his caress as she moans.
"More," she breathes. She can barely hear herself speak.
x x x x
Laura Roslin just let him shave her pussy.
His life is pretty frakking good right now.
He hears her breathe her request for more when he starts circling his fingers over her clit--he's not sure how they ended up there and assumes they were just magnetically pulled there somehow, seeking out the most direct way to make her make more of those little moans from deep in her throat.
"Hmmm," he says, feeling his cock throbbing pretty gods damn hard in his pants as his fingers slide down her inner folds. He's secretly memorizing the feel of them on his fingertips as they watch each other's eyes for any sort of reaction. She's staring at him and seems intently curious as to his next actions, her teeth scraping over her bottom lip.
He nudges his fingers inside of her, just an inch into her heat, and she whimpers and closes her eyes, pushing her hips into his hand. He slides them in a little further, turning his head to kiss the inside of her knee. She's so wet it's making his heart pound.
She moves her hips with him as he presses his palm against her cool, bare skin, grinding into her and dipping his fingers in and out in a slow rhythm. He gets the sudden urge to join her on the couch, to press his body against her side while he's feeling her this way, and so he does without leaving her unattended.
He presses his mouth to her neck, his hand nestled between her legs, and watches her face--brow knit, lips parted with short breath as she works a little harder against his hand.
She turns her head to look into his eyes and she kisses his cheek. Her moan is hot against his face as he grinds his fingers deeply into her.
"What are we doing?" she asks quietly, the words tickling his ear.
"What does it feel like we're doing?" he responds, a tingle falling down his body from head to toe.
She kisses his forehead, a long, lingering kiss, then pulls away from him and lies back on the couch, one leg on the floor. He looks at her body, long limbs splayed out gracefully, hair spread across one of his throw pillows, perfect in disarray. She has a slightly rounded tummy that leads to firm breasts, still snugly trapped in her bra.
She notices him looking at her chest and reaches around to unfasten and remove her bra. She tosses it across the room and smiles at him, a little triumphant. "Better?"
He nods, running his fingers down one of her legs. "Beautiful."
The flush spreads across her cheeks and her chest. "Thank you."
They look into each other's eyes for a long while--he's not questioning these steps they're taking, but wants to make sure everything's done in the right time, that he doesn't take things too quickly or too slowly.
It's like she reads his mind. "Come here," she whispers. "Out of your clothes."
He stands up and sheds his uniform, feeling her eyes on him as he removes his layers. When he's completely naked he tosses his tanks to the coffee table and sits back down next to her knees, placing his hand on her thigh.
"Mmmmm," she murmurs, pulling at his fingers with her hand. Her hands are soft--he realizes it's the first time he's paid attention to that, the silky texture of her skin. "Bill. Please."
He bends over, kissing her abdomen, then slides to his knees on the floor to kiss the insides of her thighs. He knows where he wants to go and makes quick work of getting there. He's waited too long.
x x x x
His mouth on her thigh sets her ablaze inside and she resists the urge to grab him by the hair and push his face into where she wants it the most, knowing he'll get there in his own good time. She can feel the flicks of his tongue all the way up to the juncture of her thigh and hip, then down over her newly shaven skin--she still can't believe she let him do that to her, but as quickly as she tells herself that, she actually can't believe they haven't done this already.
His tongue glides over the bare skin of her folds and a squeak escapes her lips as a jolt of electricity passes through her. She looks down and he's looking up at her, smiling against her as his tongue explores intricate, silken lines and spaces. It feels amazing.
"Mmmm," she murmurs, sliding one thigh over his shoulder, lifting her hips to his mouth.
"Good?" he says, lapping at her in a long, languid stroke.
"Yes," she says. "And you?"
He laps again, the tip of his tongue finding her clit. Her body shudders delightfully in response. "It tastes a little funny, like shaving cream," he confesses with a laugh and another long lick.
She giggles and runs her hand through his hair as he continues running his tongue over her. Her hips move to his rhythm, rocking against his mouth. "Stop, if you want," she says, though she doesn't mean it. She wouldn't let him if he tried.
"Mmmm mmmm," comes his negative murmur against her flesh. He starts working her most sensitive spot harder with his tongue, circling, flicking, and causing her to writhe and arch her back as she feels waves of warm pleasure slowly building.
"Yeah," she breathes, "Oh, yes, like that," and he's doing something wicked with his tongue, incredibly, inexplicably wicked, "please, yes, yeah..."
She tilts her head back and lets him take her over, slowly guiding her to freefall. She feels it spark through her body with one last flutter of his tongue and she clutches at his hair, whimpering several times as she comes.
She doesn't open her eyes until she can feel him hovering over her body, can smell the soft scent of her on his skin. She tilts her head up and he kisses her lips, gently at first. She runs her tongue along his bottom lip, tasting herself, and slips it inside his mouth to seek more.
He settles between her legs so easily, so perfectly. It shouldn't be so surprising that they fit together so well. She runs her fingernails down his back.
x x x x
Laura's body feels amazing pressed against his, soft in some places, hard in others, her hipbones pressing into his as she wraps her legs around his waist, inviting him in as she explores his mouth with her tongue, gently, easily.
They break their kiss as he nudges inside of her, just a bit at first. He sees her eyes widen slightly, sees a faint wave of uncertainty pass over her face. He kisses the tip of her nose and holds back.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly, looking into her eyes.
She smiles, pushing her forehead against his playfully. "Yes. Thank you for asking."
"Shall we continue, Madam President?" he whispers, kissing her hairline, her cheek, her neck.
"You have my explicit permission to do so," she says with a giggle, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He slides inside her and he moves his mouth over hers, lips barely touching as they breathe together, slowly joining. She envelops him with warmth and he sighs deeply at the immediate comfort it brings. She pushes her hips up against him and he responds with a stroke into her, their bodies meeting gently.
"Good Gods," she breathes against his mouth. "Bill."
He kisses her jaw and they begin to move together, a little erratic, a little out of sync at first. It's been a long time since he's frakked someone, not to mention someone on a sofa.
"Yeah," she whispers, and he loves these affirmative statements she makes during sex, like she's signing an order for him to continue.
"Yeah?" he asks, kissing her as his strokes increase in speed. Yes, it's been a long time since he's frakked someone, and this is how he justifies his sudden realization that he is going to come fairly soon. He makes the best out of the time--her tongue invites his into her mouth and he follows, his hands buried in her hair as he thrusts faster, more intently.
Her hips meet his rhythm at last and they both moan out of their kiss, which makes her giggle breathlessly.
"Come on," she says, her eyes slightly mischievous. She twists her hips and he feels a different kind of friction and she keeps him there, her fingernails digging into his back.
"You want me to?" he asks, wondering for a split second if she'll say "no."
"Yes, please," she answers with a curt thrust of her hips upward.
He buries his face in her neck and fraks her harder, feeling the soft, cool skin meeting his own where they're joined, and is reminded of what he did only moments earlier, and something about thinking about the razor and her legs on his counter and tasting her for the first time, combined with the squeeze of her muscles around him, makes him come, his eyes squeezing shut against her hair.
x x x x
Bill is adorable when he comes. He makes this sound like a low growly grunt that she secretly adds to her list of her favorite things about him. His breath on her neck is shallow and hot and she scrapes her fingernails across his shoulder blades, making him shiver.
She smiles, dragging her fingers up to the back of his head, holding him against her neck. "How are you?" she asks, still squeezing around his cock, teasing him.
"Uhhhh," he answers.
"Oh, Gods, Bill," she says, kissing his ear. "That good, huh?"
"Sweet asses of Kobol," he says, his body lodging against hers more snugly. She laughs, and keeps laughing, as her calves slip down the back of his legs and she lets her body relax underneath his.
She likes this feeling--stuck together, bound together in an afterglow. She feels his breathing start to slow against her body and she strokes his hair.
"Don't fall asleep," she says.
"I won't," he says, though he sounds groggy. It makes her smile.
"Bill?" she asks, leaning her cheek against the side of his head. She can feel him kissing her neck through her hair.
"Mmmm?"
"Thank you for letting me use your razor," she says, closing her eyes.
Bill Adama endorses this fic
thanks, xmaidelx