i got a love that keeps me waiting (2/2)
title: i got a love that keeps me waiting.
fandom: the 39 clues
pairing/character: ian kabra/amy cahill.
chapter: 2/2
rating: mature (for entire fic)
warnings: yeah. this is smut, so that should be enough warning. no kinks or creepiness. just good, old-fashioned shagging.
notes: my birthday just ended about two hours ago, so it's a belated gift to myself that i'm finally done with this thing. this is un-beta'd, because i really just wanted to post it already. enjoy!
part one.
As soon as her dress came off, Amy knew she was doomed.
Sinead had been the one to advise her against wearing underwear, stating that even the skimpiest pair would show through the thin silk of her dress. She did, however, tell Amy to strap a knife to her thigh, “Just in case.” At the time, this advice seemed reasonable, but now that Ian Kabra was appraising her naked body she realized that a bit of cover would be more useful than a dagger.
His eyes followed the blush now spreading down her body, starting at her lightly freckled cheeks and ending at her equally sun-spotted thighs.
To her horror, he chuckled. At first, she glared and attempted to cover herself, but then he slipped his fingers underneath the strap holding the knife and she realized what he was laughing about.
“Planning on murdering me afterward, love?”
“I’m at a Lucian stronghold,” she mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest, “it was just precaution.”
She glanced at her navy dress pooling on the floor next to a crisp white button-down and then at the man in front of her. Every trace of the vain, confident Ian she knew had somehow disappeared. It was as if he didn’t know what to do now that she’d pulled away. His hand had found the knife on her thigh again and he fiddled with the buckle, long fingers repeatedly grazing her skin. When the strap came loose, he tossed both it and the knife on the floor next to their discarded clothing. Now, there was nothing between his hands and her skin.
She felt completely exposed and had forgotten her entire plan to get him back for years of torment. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but the more stubborn, prideful part wanted to stay and finish what was started.
“Feeling shy?”
She looked up to find the same old Ian smirking down at her. Obviously he decided her discomfort beat out his.
“N-no.” She said, not as composed as she wanted to sound.
“I mean,” She started again, “I’m fine.”
“You’re curled up like a scared child.”
She shot him a look that she hoped appeared menacing, but he just laughed.
“Your modesty is endearing,” He told her, “but you forget that I’ve seen it all before.”
She pulled her knees closer, “If you’re going to start talking about your past ‘conquests,’ then I’m leaving.”
“Actually,” He looked pointedly at her, “I was referring to New Year’s, remember that?”
Amy blinked, “W-what?”
“You know,” He said, eyes taking on a mischievous glint, “when I got you off while your brother ran around trying to burn Natalie with a roman candle.”
“He was not trying to burn her...” She said, crossing her arms over her legs.
Ian raised his eyebrows, “How would you know? I seem to recall you being too busy screaming my name to notice much of anything.”
She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the blush on her cheeks manifest again. As always, he was the one in control. It was as if their entire relationship was one giant power struggle. They argued at branch meetings when he would veto something she suggested, even if she knew he secretly agreed with it. Whenever she gained the upper hand in their banter, he would find some way to disorient her once more.
When she let him kiss her tonight - let him remove her dress - it was all in the assumption that she could finally beat him at his favorite game.
Now, she had three options:
One, run away.
Two, surrender.
Or three, complete the mission.
The first one was cowardly, and Amy might be a bit timid, but she sure as hell wasn’t a coward. She was taught to fight her problems, not hide from them. Which meant the second choice was also no good. Giving in would be just as dastardly as running away.
And that left one thing-playing it through to the end.
Amy took a deep breath, and then looked up at the confident Kabra. She could see worry starting to set in on his face-concerned eyes, creased eyebrows.
Perfect timing, she thought.
Precious jade locked with fiery amber as she curved her lips into the most self-satisfied smirk she could muster. Almost immediately the worried lines disappeared and his mouth mirrored her own. Now or never…
Right as he parted his arrogant lips to remark, she leaned forward and kissed him.
She’d pressed her lips to his for only a moment before pulling back slightly, noticing that the fire in his eyes had come back. She grinned inwardly, noting the dilated pupils-a sure sign of lust. Sometimes it paid off to be the best friend of someone who had studied the science of sex; it certainly made it easier to know when you were succeeding.
Her mouth had barely begun to form the words of a witty quip when she was pressed against the charcoal leather once again. A gasp left her lips as he shifted his weight atop her, a sudden pressure against her thigh made it all the more obvious how much he wanted her. Perhaps this would be easier than she initially thought. She grinned as he kissed her, thinking more about how sweet victory would feel than what was currently happening outside of her mind.
Which was why she wasn’t prepared for the warm hands cupping her breasts. She let out a small squeak, and he chuckled against her mouth. His fingers continued their dance on her skin, her heartbeat increasing with every step.
A familiar heat flared between her thighs as his teeth tugged at her bottom lip. She ran her fingernails down his back as she shifted her hips against his, making note of the groan he tried to conceal.
She broke their kiss to move her lips to a space on his neck, right above his clavicle. His hands, which had since moved farther south from her breasts, gripped her thighs as her teeth grazed his flesh. She sucked and nipped at the sensitive spot until he finally moaned her name, along with a certain four-letter curse. It wasn’t the first time her name had slipped from his mouth-long sessions of kissing in her bedroom as hormonal teenagers ensured that-but it was the first time it sounded so desperate. Her name, like a plead from the lips of the guilty.
Maybe she was more in control than she initially thought.
Her hands moved down his chest and began to unbuckle his belt, but he grabbed her wrists-
“Let me,” he pulled away, “you’re going much too slow.”
And then, in a matter of moments, he was just as exposed as she was. But infinitely more composed. She watched as he dug into his wallet and produced a small, foil-wrapped packet-and promptly rolled her eyes, informing him that it was really unnecessary. After all, the seventeen-year-old version of Ian Kabra was part of the reason Nellie took her charge to see the O.B. G.Y.N. in the first place.
And Ian was too much of a germaphobe to have a disease.
“There’s the responsible Amy Cahill I know and love.” He said, repositioning himself in-between her legs and leaning down to kiss her neck.
…Love?
“Wait-what?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” he said, his hands making their way back to their original place on her thighs, “We have other business to attend to at the moment.”
She barely caught the wicked smirk painted on his lips before he began kissing her again. The movement was hard and fast, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t enjoyable. She pressed her fingers against the back of his neck, tugging him closer, while he slipped his hand under her back to do the same. As soon as he placed his palm on her lower spine, she arched into him, gasping into his mouth when their hips meet.
He pulled back then and looked at her. His eyes, though almost completely dark with want, showed a hint of desperation. His way of asking, without actually begging, she assumed. After all, Kabras don’t grovel-they just take what they want.
And so she grinned and tugged his head back down to hers. Him pulling away for even a second, just proved how in-control she was. Why else would he feel like he needed her permission to take the final step?
She wrapped her legs around his waist, biting her lip as he finally thrust into her. Her fingernails dug in his shoulders causing him to hiss in pain and she immediately regretted not going with Natalie to get a manicure that morning. Somehow it seemed like he didn’t care much about the discomfort, but rather was encouraged by it as his momentum increased. Her legs tightened around him and he cursed under his breath at the action. She was almost positive that the only intelligible sound coming from her mouth was his name, and she should hate giving him that satisfaction, but right now it didn’t seem to matter.
Ian’s fingers had moved to the space between their legs and maneuvered until they found the spot they were searching for, and then pressed upon it gently. A bolt of pleasure shot through her body and she instinctively rolled her hips forwards, causing him to shudder and moan into her neck-
“A-Amy…”
-
A few seconds later, they were a tangled, sweaty mess on the sofa. Ian stroking Amy’s hair and looking entirely too pleased with himself, and Amy grinning like she’d just won the ultimate game - because she had.
Checkmate.
♣ Comments and criticism appreciated.
fandom: the 39 clues
pairing/character: ian kabra/amy cahill.
chapter: 2/2
rating: mature (for entire fic)
warnings: yeah. this is smut, so that should be enough warning. no kinks or creepiness. just good, old-fashioned shagging.
notes: my birthday just ended about two hours ago, so it's a belated gift to myself that i'm finally done with this thing. this is un-beta'd, because i really just wanted to post it already. enjoy!
part one.
As soon as her dress came off, Amy knew she was doomed.
Sinead had been the one to advise her against wearing underwear, stating that even the skimpiest pair would show through the thin silk of her dress. She did, however, tell Amy to strap a knife to her thigh, “Just in case.” At the time, this advice seemed reasonable, but now that Ian Kabra was appraising her naked body she realized that a bit of cover would be more useful than a dagger.
His eyes followed the blush now spreading down her body, starting at her lightly freckled cheeks and ending at her equally sun-spotted thighs.
To her horror, he chuckled. At first, she glared and attempted to cover herself, but then he slipped his fingers underneath the strap holding the knife and she realized what he was laughing about.
“Planning on murdering me afterward, love?”
“I’m at a Lucian stronghold,” she mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest, “it was just precaution.”
She glanced at her navy dress pooling on the floor next to a crisp white button-down and then at the man in front of her. Every trace of the vain, confident Ian she knew had somehow disappeared. It was as if he didn’t know what to do now that she’d pulled away. His hand had found the knife on her thigh again and he fiddled with the buckle, long fingers repeatedly grazing her skin. When the strap came loose, he tossed both it and the knife on the floor next to their discarded clothing. Now, there was nothing between his hands and her skin.
She felt completely exposed and had forgotten her entire plan to get him back for years of torment. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but the more stubborn, prideful part wanted to stay and finish what was started.
“Feeling shy?”
She looked up to find the same old Ian smirking down at her. Obviously he decided her discomfort beat out his.
“N-no.” She said, not as composed as she wanted to sound.
“I mean,” She started again, “I’m fine.”
“You’re curled up like a scared child.”
She shot him a look that she hoped appeared menacing, but he just laughed.
“Your modesty is endearing,” He told her, “but you forget that I’ve seen it all before.”
She pulled her knees closer, “If you’re going to start talking about your past ‘conquests,’ then I’m leaving.”
“Actually,” He looked pointedly at her, “I was referring to New Year’s, remember that?”
Amy blinked, “W-what?”
“You know,” He said, eyes taking on a mischievous glint, “when I got you off while your brother ran around trying to burn Natalie with a roman candle.”
“He was not trying to burn her...” She said, crossing her arms over her legs.
Ian raised his eyebrows, “How would you know? I seem to recall you being too busy screaming my name to notice much of anything.”
She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the blush on her cheeks manifest again. As always, he was the one in control. It was as if their entire relationship was one giant power struggle. They argued at branch meetings when he would veto something she suggested, even if she knew he secretly agreed with it. Whenever she gained the upper hand in their banter, he would find some way to disorient her once more.
When she let him kiss her tonight - let him remove her dress - it was all in the assumption that she could finally beat him at his favorite game.
Now, she had three options:
One, run away.
Two, surrender.
Or three, complete the mission.
The first one was cowardly, and Amy might be a bit timid, but she sure as hell wasn’t a coward. She was taught to fight her problems, not hide from them. Which meant the second choice was also no good. Giving in would be just as dastardly as running away.
And that left one thing-playing it through to the end.
Amy took a deep breath, and then looked up at the confident Kabra. She could see worry starting to set in on his face-concerned eyes, creased eyebrows.
Perfect timing, she thought.
Precious jade locked with fiery amber as she curved her lips into the most self-satisfied smirk she could muster. Almost immediately the worried lines disappeared and his mouth mirrored her own. Now or never…
Right as he parted his arrogant lips to remark, she leaned forward and kissed him.
She’d pressed her lips to his for only a moment before pulling back slightly, noticing that the fire in his eyes had come back. She grinned inwardly, noting the dilated pupils-a sure sign of lust. Sometimes it paid off to be the best friend of someone who had studied the science of sex; it certainly made it easier to know when you were succeeding.
Her mouth had barely begun to form the words of a witty quip when she was pressed against the charcoal leather once again. A gasp left her lips as he shifted his weight atop her, a sudden pressure against her thigh made it all the more obvious how much he wanted her. Perhaps this would be easier than she initially thought. She grinned as he kissed her, thinking more about how sweet victory would feel than what was currently happening outside of her mind.
Which was why she wasn’t prepared for the warm hands cupping her breasts. She let out a small squeak, and he chuckled against her mouth. His fingers continued their dance on her skin, her heartbeat increasing with every step.
A familiar heat flared between her thighs as his teeth tugged at her bottom lip. She ran her fingernails down his back as she shifted her hips against his, making note of the groan he tried to conceal.
She broke their kiss to move her lips to a space on his neck, right above his clavicle. His hands, which had since moved farther south from her breasts, gripped her thighs as her teeth grazed his flesh. She sucked and nipped at the sensitive spot until he finally moaned her name, along with a certain four-letter curse. It wasn’t the first time her name had slipped from his mouth-long sessions of kissing in her bedroom as hormonal teenagers ensured that-but it was the first time it sounded so desperate. Her name, like a plead from the lips of the guilty.
Maybe she was more in control than she initially thought.
Her hands moved down his chest and began to unbuckle his belt, but he grabbed her wrists-
“Let me,” he pulled away, “you’re going much too slow.”
And then, in a matter of moments, he was just as exposed as she was. But infinitely more composed. She watched as he dug into his wallet and produced a small, foil-wrapped packet-and promptly rolled her eyes, informing him that it was really unnecessary. After all, the seventeen-year-old version of Ian Kabra was part of the reason Nellie took her charge to see the O.B. G.Y.N. in the first place.
And Ian was too much of a germaphobe to have a disease.
“There’s the responsible Amy Cahill I know and love.” He said, repositioning himself in-between her legs and leaning down to kiss her neck.
…Love?
“Wait-what?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” he said, his hands making their way back to their original place on her thighs, “We have other business to attend to at the moment.”
She barely caught the wicked smirk painted on his lips before he began kissing her again. The movement was hard and fast, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t enjoyable. She pressed her fingers against the back of his neck, tugging him closer, while he slipped his hand under her back to do the same. As soon as he placed his palm on her lower spine, she arched into him, gasping into his mouth when their hips meet.
He pulled back then and looked at her. His eyes, though almost completely dark with want, showed a hint of desperation. His way of asking, without actually begging, she assumed. After all, Kabras don’t grovel-they just take what they want.
And so she grinned and tugged his head back down to hers. Him pulling away for even a second, just proved how in-control she was. Why else would he feel like he needed her permission to take the final step?
She wrapped her legs around his waist, biting her lip as he finally thrust into her. Her fingernails dug in his shoulders causing him to hiss in pain and she immediately regretted not going with Natalie to get a manicure that morning. Somehow it seemed like he didn’t care much about the discomfort, but rather was encouraged by it as his momentum increased. Her legs tightened around him and he cursed under his breath at the action. She was almost positive that the only intelligible sound coming from her mouth was his name, and she should hate giving him that satisfaction, but right now it didn’t seem to matter.
Ian’s fingers had moved to the space between their legs and maneuvered until they found the spot they were searching for, and then pressed upon it gently. A bolt of pleasure shot through her body and she instinctively rolled her hips forwards, causing him to shudder and moan into her neck-
“A-Amy…”
-
A few seconds later, they were a tangled, sweaty mess on the sofa. Ian stroking Amy’s hair and looking entirely too pleased with himself, and Amy grinning like she’d just won the ultimate game - because she had.
Checkmate.
♣ Comments and criticism appreciated.