Malt Challenge - 7/30
Cinnamon Swirl #8. Skin Deep with Malt and a Cherry
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : 1270
Word Count : 866
Malt Prompt : pfah - skin deep : Lyssa - Too good to be true
Cherry for the PoV and present tense.
So, I really wanted to get to the whole Kairn/Lyssa business with first and last, but it is dragging on, and we do things out of order here all the time, no? This would be after things have been going on for awhile.
You have me laid out on the bed, a knee flush against either side of my own, picking apart the laces of my pants…with your teeth of all things. And here I am, staring dumbly at the ceiling, wondering when it was that the space between “hello” and disrobing has gone from including a meal and a quiet evening to lasting just as long as it takes for you to drag me down the hall. I still wonder how these visits have come to involve my bed at all, for that matter. Sometimes it all seems a bit surreal.
The tug at my waist is real enough, the creak of the bed, the pout that settles on your lips as you lift your head to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.” Wrong? There’s a woman on top of me, her shirt pulled halfway down her front, intent on taking the clothes off me with her mouth. What could be wrong with that?
You tip your head and raise a brow, as if you know what I’m thinking. As if I should know by now I’m not so hard to read.
“You know,” and I can’t help but put a hand to your hair, brush a bit from your face, revel for a moment in the twitch of your lips as my fingers stray over your cheek, “I’m starting to miss the days when you’d try to ply me with drink and pie.”
A shake of your head and you’re back to business, a hand taking up where your teeth left off, laces flapping between your fingers. “I promise I’ll bring something next time. For now, I’d like some help getting you out of these, if you would.”
“Lyss-”
But you’re not listening. You’ve got the whole thing unthreaded, and you’re hauling the top down over my hip. “Person can only go so long without, you know.” The last of that garbled amidst the press of your lips to my hip, and I find I’m only half listening to the rest as you continue to work more of me free. “You can’t tell me this isn’t driving you mad.” Of course it is. With every pass of your fingers, your lips, I’m wishing I hadn’t said anything. I’d be inside you by now. “I couldn’t take it much longer.” The tone is conversational, the tongue not so much, slowly working its way in the wake of the cloth that’s peeled away. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean-” And for a moment it’s as if the world has stopped. There’s a head between my legs, lips traversing the inside of my thigh, and here I am staring at the ceiling again. I grab you by the shoulder, pry you off of me, and get a puzzled glare in return. “Wait, you mean you haven’t…?” I’m searching your face as the words are failing, but you’re just blinking, frozen as I am. “You’ve been faithful?” Like it’s an accusation, like I’m daring you to tell me otherwise. More foolish yet, I tack on, “To me?”
“That so unthinkable?” No not usually, but seeing as this is you… But you’re still staring at me, mouth open, brows knit. Completely dumbfounded.
The next thing I know I’ve got both my hands full of you and we’re rolling on the bed, clothes half removed tangling between us. And when I’ve got you firmly beneath me, still just as shocked, though certainly more pleased, I kiss you. Then we’re staring at each other again, the tips of our noses brushing against each other, caught between the need to breathe and the urge to laugh, and I’m tempted to do it again.
“What has gotten into you?” you ask, with that most wonderful, breathless grin.
And all I can think to say is, “You.”
Your body shakes with laughter beneath me. There’s a ripple of warmth that rolls off of you and tickles at my skin, and I’m laughing too.
“Do you have any idea how foolish you sound?” You’re bound to say it, just as I’ll keep spouting such nonsense in the first place.
“I do.”
There’s a long, breathless pause. I know what you’re thinking, or at least I know what I’d like for you to be thinking. But, even if you are, it’s not like you’re going to say it. I’ve gotten over waiting for it a long time ago. Just like I’ve gotten over the delusion that this might be something exclusive. If I was wrong about one…I shake my head, and I’m moving in, settling for another kiss instead, when you do.
“I love you.”
It’s not what I’d expected, and yet it is. Not the earth shattering moment, that had already passed when I realized it was true, but no less profound, in its own quiet way. Warm, like your magic easing over me. I stop, even if the world doesn’t again, lips a hair from your own, and pull back to meet your eye. Idiot that I am, what do I say?
“I know.”
At least I have the sense to kiss you before you can call me a fool again.
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : 1270
Word Count : 866
Malt Prompt : pfah - skin deep : Lyssa - Too good to be true
Cherry for the PoV and present tense.
So, I really wanted to get to the whole Kairn/Lyssa business with first and last, but it is dragging on, and we do things out of order here all the time, no? This would be after things have been going on for awhile.
You have me laid out on the bed, a knee flush against either side of my own, picking apart the laces of my pants…with your teeth of all things. And here I am, staring dumbly at the ceiling, wondering when it was that the space between “hello” and disrobing has gone from including a meal and a quiet evening to lasting just as long as it takes for you to drag me down the hall. I still wonder how these visits have come to involve my bed at all, for that matter. Sometimes it all seems a bit surreal.
The tug at my waist is real enough, the creak of the bed, the pout that settles on your lips as you lift your head to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.” Wrong? There’s a woman on top of me, her shirt pulled halfway down her front, intent on taking the clothes off me with her mouth. What could be wrong with that?
You tip your head and raise a brow, as if you know what I’m thinking. As if I should know by now I’m not so hard to read.
“You know,” and I can’t help but put a hand to your hair, brush a bit from your face, revel for a moment in the twitch of your lips as my fingers stray over your cheek, “I’m starting to miss the days when you’d try to ply me with drink and pie.”
A shake of your head and you’re back to business, a hand taking up where your teeth left off, laces flapping between your fingers. “I promise I’ll bring something next time. For now, I’d like some help getting you out of these, if you would.”
“Lyss-”
But you’re not listening. You’ve got the whole thing unthreaded, and you’re hauling the top down over my hip. “Person can only go so long without, you know.” The last of that garbled amidst the press of your lips to my hip, and I find I’m only half listening to the rest as you continue to work more of me free. “You can’t tell me this isn’t driving you mad.” Of course it is. With every pass of your fingers, your lips, I’m wishing I hadn’t said anything. I’d be inside you by now. “I couldn’t take it much longer.” The tone is conversational, the tongue not so much, slowly working its way in the wake of the cloth that’s peeled away. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean-” And for a moment it’s as if the world has stopped. There’s a head between my legs, lips traversing the inside of my thigh, and here I am staring at the ceiling again. I grab you by the shoulder, pry you off of me, and get a puzzled glare in return. “Wait, you mean you haven’t…?” I’m searching your face as the words are failing, but you’re just blinking, frozen as I am. “You’ve been faithful?” Like it’s an accusation, like I’m daring you to tell me otherwise. More foolish yet, I tack on, “To me?”
“That so unthinkable?” No not usually, but seeing as this is you… But you’re still staring at me, mouth open, brows knit. Completely dumbfounded.
The next thing I know I’ve got both my hands full of you and we’re rolling on the bed, clothes half removed tangling between us. And when I’ve got you firmly beneath me, still just as shocked, though certainly more pleased, I kiss you. Then we’re staring at each other again, the tips of our noses brushing against each other, caught between the need to breathe and the urge to laugh, and I’m tempted to do it again.
“What has gotten into you?” you ask, with that most wonderful, breathless grin.
And all I can think to say is, “You.”
Your body shakes with laughter beneath me. There’s a ripple of warmth that rolls off of you and tickles at my skin, and I’m laughing too.
“Do you have any idea how foolish you sound?” You’re bound to say it, just as I’ll keep spouting such nonsense in the first place.
“I do.”
There’s a long, breathless pause. I know what you’re thinking, or at least I know what I’d like for you to be thinking. But, even if you are, it’s not like you’re going to say it. I’ve gotten over waiting for it a long time ago. Just like I’ve gotten over the delusion that this might be something exclusive. If I was wrong about one…I shake my head, and I’m moving in, settling for another kiss instead, when you do.
“I love you.”
It’s not what I’d expected, and yet it is. Not the earth shattering moment, that had already passed when I realized it was true, but no less profound, in its own quiet way. Warm, like your magic easing over me. I stop, even if the world doesn’t again, lips a hair from your own, and pull back to meet your eye. Idiot that I am, what do I say?
“I know.”
At least I have the sense to kiss you before you can call me a fool again.