Mod Gift #3 - For Sienamystic
Title: Scratching an Itch
Author: telaryn
Giftee: sienamystic
Rating: Extremely hard R, edging into NC-17 territory
Characters/Pairing: Sophie/Eliot
Word Count: 708
Spoilers: Set during S1 (The Twelve Step Job), but no spoilers
Warnings: Language, sexin' in the office
Disclaimer: No money made, no ownership implied.
Summary: They satisfy each other's needs with no strings attached.
Notes: For sienamystic with thanks for your participation in this year's Leverage Exchange.
It was late when she returned to the office. Sophie stopped to engage the alarm and lock the front door, before heading to the conference room. Eliot was there, studying schematics of the clinic on the wall of monitors.
“Hey,” he greeted her with a glance. “Everything okay?”
Sophie closed the distance separating them in a half-dozen quick strides. Eliot tensed, but before he could ask what she was doing, Sophie cupped his face between her hands and kissed him. After a moment's surprised hesitation, Eliot wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up hard against his chest and kissing her back.
“Where's Hardison?” he asked, once they finally came up for air.
Sophie smiled. “I sent him home to sleep. Before you ask, I've also locked the doors and set the alarm. We're all alone.”
Now Eliot was smiling. He pulled away from her slightly, looking Sophie over with a predatory gleam in his blue eyes that made her shiver with excitement. “Then I think I want to see how you look without that dress on.”
Stepping out of the circle of his arms, Sophie bent to gather the hem of her knit dress in her fingers. She went slow, making every movement count. Eliot liked to watch her strip, and she liked watching the effect she had on him as her skin and lingerie were exposed bit by bit.
By the time she'd pulled her dress over her head and dropped it in one of the nearby chairs, Eliot was slowly rubbing his palm across the front of his jeans, and Sophie could hear the tiny hitches in his breathing. “Very nice,” he said - his voice low and thick as he looked over the black lace teddy she'd been wearing under the more conservatively cut dress.
“No,” he went on sharply when she bent to unzip her boot. “Leave the boots on,” he explained when she looked up quizzically. He smiled. “It's a good look on you.”
He pulled her to him again, this time turning her so that her back was pressed up against his front. “Look at all that glass,” he whispered in her ear, tracing his fingers lightly down the side of her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. “Anyone could walk in and see us together.” He bit lightly into the muscle of her shoulder; Sophie moaned softly.
“I want to fuck you on this table,” he whispered, skimming the heel of his hand across her breasts - teasing the nipples into a pleasurable tightness. A small flex of his hips pressed the bulge of his hard-on into her. “You drive me crazy coming in here looking like that.”
Sophie reached up to cup the back of his head, leaning back against his shoulder until she could see his face. “You can handle it,” she murmured.
He hand slipped lower along the front of her body, fingers slipping under the edge of a leg hole. Sophie gasped, arching into him as his forefinger brushed against her clit. “I like knowing that you're wet for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That whenever you have an itch you need me to scratch it.”
“I don't need you,” Sophie protested breathlessly. Eliot slipped a finger inside her and she whimpered - squirming against him.
“You need me,” he countered, thrusting into her. “This?” He ran his free hand down the front of her teddy, “is too much for most guys to handle.”
He was teasing her; ordinarily Sophie would have enjoyed bantering with him about it, but his fingers were too quick and her body was already tightening with the first stirrings of orgasm. “Eliot...” she gasped as the pleasure began flooding through her.
“I've got you,” he murmured, holding her steady against him as the flood turned into a wave crashing over her. “You're safe.”
His fingers played against her skin, drawing the orgasm out until the pleasure became almost painful, then gentling her down until she felt secure in her body again. “Amazing,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder.
Sophie laughed weakly. “Yes. You are.”
Author: telaryn
Giftee: sienamystic
Rating: Extremely hard R, edging into NC-17 territory
Characters/Pairing: Sophie/Eliot
Word Count: 708
Spoilers: Set during S1 (The Twelve Step Job), but no spoilers
Warnings: Language, sexin' in the office
Disclaimer: No money made, no ownership implied.
Summary: They satisfy each other's needs with no strings attached.
Notes: For sienamystic with thanks for your participation in this year's Leverage Exchange.
It was late when she returned to the office. Sophie stopped to engage the alarm and lock the front door, before heading to the conference room. Eliot was there, studying schematics of the clinic on the wall of monitors.
“Hey,” he greeted her with a glance. “Everything okay?”
Sophie closed the distance separating them in a half-dozen quick strides. Eliot tensed, but before he could ask what she was doing, Sophie cupped his face between her hands and kissed him. After a moment's surprised hesitation, Eliot wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up hard against his chest and kissing her back.
“Where's Hardison?” he asked, once they finally came up for air.
Sophie smiled. “I sent him home to sleep. Before you ask, I've also locked the doors and set the alarm. We're all alone.”
Now Eliot was smiling. He pulled away from her slightly, looking Sophie over with a predatory gleam in his blue eyes that made her shiver with excitement. “Then I think I want to see how you look without that dress on.”
Stepping out of the circle of his arms, Sophie bent to gather the hem of her knit dress in her fingers. She went slow, making every movement count. Eliot liked to watch her strip, and she liked watching the effect she had on him as her skin and lingerie were exposed bit by bit.
By the time she'd pulled her dress over her head and dropped it in one of the nearby chairs, Eliot was slowly rubbing his palm across the front of his jeans, and Sophie could hear the tiny hitches in his breathing. “Very nice,” he said - his voice low and thick as he looked over the black lace teddy she'd been wearing under the more conservatively cut dress.
“No,” he went on sharply when she bent to unzip her boot. “Leave the boots on,” he explained when she looked up quizzically. He smiled. “It's a good look on you.”
He pulled her to him again, this time turning her so that her back was pressed up against his front. “Look at all that glass,” he whispered in her ear, tracing his fingers lightly down the side of her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. “Anyone could walk in and see us together.” He bit lightly into the muscle of her shoulder; Sophie moaned softly.
“I want to fuck you on this table,” he whispered, skimming the heel of his hand across her breasts - teasing the nipples into a pleasurable tightness. A small flex of his hips pressed the bulge of his hard-on into her. “You drive me crazy coming in here looking like that.”
Sophie reached up to cup the back of his head, leaning back against his shoulder until she could see his face. “You can handle it,” she murmured.
He hand slipped lower along the front of her body, fingers slipping under the edge of a leg hole. Sophie gasped, arching into him as his forefinger brushed against her clit. “I like knowing that you're wet for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That whenever you have an itch you need me to scratch it.”
“I don't need you,” Sophie protested breathlessly. Eliot slipped a finger inside her and she whimpered - squirming against him.
“You need me,” he countered, thrusting into her. “This?” He ran his free hand down the front of her teddy, “is too much for most guys to handle.”
He was teasing her; ordinarily Sophie would have enjoyed bantering with him about it, but his fingers were too quick and her body was already tightening with the first stirrings of orgasm. “Eliot...” she gasped as the pleasure began flooding through her.
“I've got you,” he murmured, holding her steady against him as the flood turned into a wave crashing over her. “You're safe.”
His fingers played against her skin, drawing the orgasm out until the pleasure became almost painful, then gentling her down until she felt secure in her body again. “Amazing,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder.
Sophie laughed weakly. “Yes. You are.”