Rune/Lyssa
Rocky Road #6. Kitchen
Story : knights
Rating : NC-17
Timeframe : 1257
Word Count : 1115
Smut usually takes me a good week or so. Wrote this in an afternoon somehow. Oh, and Sly and I seem to be starting something here - kitchens and libraries are places for smut... who knew?
The knife struck the board in a steady rhythm, leaving a pile of neatly diced vegetables in its wake. A loud creak and a sharp bang, followed by the approaching tread of boots, signaled Lyssa‘s arrival. The blade continued its measured motion across the wood without hesitation.
Rune smiled as a hand slid over his shoulder, his eyes still on his work. “Smells good,” said Lyssa. Her head came to rest against his arm, angled towards the steaming pot on the stove.
“Thanks,” he murmured, a slight shiver following the hand that trailed leisurely down his spine.
She cocked her head, chin replacing temple against the slowly bobbing arm that held the knife. “Time for a break?” she said, her hand lingering just above his waist.
“Not if you want dinner at a reasonable time tonight.” Rune gnawed his lip as Lyssa’s fingers wound their way over his hip. “Or at all,” he amended.
He felt, rather than saw her grin. “I can pass on dinner,” she said. “If I get dessert first.” Her hand took a sharp turn around his middle and dove into his pants.
“Lyssa!” He jerked away from the counter. The knife fell from his grasp and clattered against the wood.
“What?” said Lyssa, her grin even larger, as her other hand snaked its way over his chest. Rune shuddered as she clenched her fist around him, and clutched the lip of the counter with both hands, as thumb and fingers worked their magic in swift, maddening strokes.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” said Rune, eyes locked on the pale arm coiled around his middle and the point at which it vanished beneath his waistband.
Her grip tightened with her laugh, and he felt, through his sleeve, her lips graze his arm. “Making you feel good, I suppose,” she said, with another sharp thrust of her hand. “Is it working?”
“I… well… yes… but-” He cast a nervous glance at the window.
“Quit worrying,” said Lyssa, the hand on his chest drifting downward. “No one’s around." She caught the button that held his pants in her fingers. “And I bet I could make you feel even better.”
“Huh?”
Rune sputtered for breath as Lyssa whipped him around. He found himself pinned between her and the counter, his pants collapsing into a heap around his ankles. “Lyssa!” he gasped, cheeks burning as her hands closed around his hips and the soft warmth of her breast pressed close to him. Amber eyes glinted at him dangerously as she angled even closer.
Lyssa planted her lips on his with such force that it pulled the breath from his lungs with a sharp moan. His arms curled around her, taking in fistfuls of the thick cloak that hung from her shoulders as he sought the body beneath it. He tore the thing aside and wrapped his hands, instead, around her shoulder blades.
Her hands kneaded his sides, her thumbs tracing broad circles in between. Rune moaned and pulled harder at her lips each time they would graze him in their passing. Lyssa lodged the toe of one boot in the handle of the nearest drawer and hoisted herself up even with him. She hiked her skirts up around her waist, shoving as much of the fabric as she could behind her. Both gasped as their bodies collided, the weight of her against him forcing his back into the counter.
Lyssa’s hands clamped onto the wood, while Rune clutched her back with both of his, both struggling desperately to suppot themselves. She eased herself down onto him and Rune let out a cry into the mouth that held his as her warmth surrounded him. Lyssa sighed and kissed him harder. Her feet braced awkwardly against the drawers as though they were footholds in rocky terrain, she repeated the motion with more force, while her lips pulled away from his to work their way along his neck.
“Lyssa!” he gasped, one hand falling from her back to grope for the edge of the counter. His palm, slick with sweat, struggled to find a hold on the smooth surface. He curled his fingers around the rim and put as much of his weight as he dared into his arm, straining for the leverage to return Lyssa’s eager thrusts.
“I don’t know how long I can keep this up,” he said, the counter climbing up his back in short jagged steps as his knees slowly gave way. Her face still buried in the side of his neck, Lyssa laughed. The legs splayed around him tensed, her hips ascending to bear down on him once more.
“Seriously.” He shuddered as muscles clenched violently around him. His fingers clawed at the wood as it slipped away. “I- Woah!” He pushed away from the cabinets for fear of cracking his head on the counter as his knees folded, wrenching Lyssa’s boots from their hold. She tucked her legs behind his back and they both went tumbling down.
Rune and Lyssa collapsed in a tangled heap on the kitchen floor, bodies still writhing against each other. His hands floundered, grasping at any part of her that came into reach. Flesh and cloth passed beneath his touch in a blur of sensation as he fought to find some part of her to hold on to.
“Oh, Rune,” Lyssa murmured, her body tightening around his in rapid spasms while her lips tore at his throat. His voice joined hers as release came over him, his hands wound in her hair and his back pressed to the cold floorboards. Her hands closed over his shoulders and her knees tight against his sides, she continued to rock and cry out until they both came to a shuddering halt.
With a last, gentle kiss on his cheek, Lyssa sat back and smiled at him. Rune looked from the rumpled skirt that fell across them both, to the pants twisted about his ankles, to the utterly ridiculous grin that split Lyssa’s face, and laughed.
Lyssa tapped one finger playfully on his nose. “Good, no?” she said.
Rune shook his head and laughed again. “Won’t hear me argue.”
A gurgle sounded from the direction of the stove. Both jerked their heads towards the pot to find the water seeping from beneath its lid, landing, with a hiss, on the coals below. Rune muttered a curse as he squirmed out from under her and reached for his pants.
“Like that wasn’t worth ruining a meal for?” said Lyssa, grinning as she watched him scramble to his feet.
“Not that,” he said, grabbing a spoon as he hurriedly fastened the button. “I’d rather not have to explain why it’s ruined.”
Story : knights
Rating : NC-17
Timeframe : 1257
Word Count : 1115
Smut usually takes me a good week or so. Wrote this in an afternoon somehow. Oh, and Sly and I seem to be starting something here - kitchens and libraries are places for smut... who knew?
The knife struck the board in a steady rhythm, leaving a pile of neatly diced vegetables in its wake. A loud creak and a sharp bang, followed by the approaching tread of boots, signaled Lyssa‘s arrival. The blade continued its measured motion across the wood without hesitation.
Rune smiled as a hand slid over his shoulder, his eyes still on his work. “Smells good,” said Lyssa. Her head came to rest against his arm, angled towards the steaming pot on the stove.
“Thanks,” he murmured, a slight shiver following the hand that trailed leisurely down his spine.
She cocked her head, chin replacing temple against the slowly bobbing arm that held the knife. “Time for a break?” she said, her hand lingering just above his waist.
“Not if you want dinner at a reasonable time tonight.” Rune gnawed his lip as Lyssa’s fingers wound their way over his hip. “Or at all,” he amended.
He felt, rather than saw her grin. “I can pass on dinner,” she said. “If I get dessert first.” Her hand took a sharp turn around his middle and dove into his pants.
“Lyssa!” He jerked away from the counter. The knife fell from his grasp and clattered against the wood.
“What?” said Lyssa, her grin even larger, as her other hand snaked its way over his chest. Rune shuddered as she clenched her fist around him, and clutched the lip of the counter with both hands, as thumb and fingers worked their magic in swift, maddening strokes.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” said Rune, eyes locked on the pale arm coiled around his middle and the point at which it vanished beneath his waistband.
Her grip tightened with her laugh, and he felt, through his sleeve, her lips graze his arm. “Making you feel good, I suppose,” she said, with another sharp thrust of her hand. “Is it working?”
“I… well… yes… but-” He cast a nervous glance at the window.
“Quit worrying,” said Lyssa, the hand on his chest drifting downward. “No one’s around." She caught the button that held his pants in her fingers. “And I bet I could make you feel even better.”
“Huh?”
Rune sputtered for breath as Lyssa whipped him around. He found himself pinned between her and the counter, his pants collapsing into a heap around his ankles. “Lyssa!” he gasped, cheeks burning as her hands closed around his hips and the soft warmth of her breast pressed close to him. Amber eyes glinted at him dangerously as she angled even closer.
Lyssa planted her lips on his with such force that it pulled the breath from his lungs with a sharp moan. His arms curled around her, taking in fistfuls of the thick cloak that hung from her shoulders as he sought the body beneath it. He tore the thing aside and wrapped his hands, instead, around her shoulder blades.
Her hands kneaded his sides, her thumbs tracing broad circles in between. Rune moaned and pulled harder at her lips each time they would graze him in their passing. Lyssa lodged the toe of one boot in the handle of the nearest drawer and hoisted herself up even with him. She hiked her skirts up around her waist, shoving as much of the fabric as she could behind her. Both gasped as their bodies collided, the weight of her against him forcing his back into the counter.
Lyssa’s hands clamped onto the wood, while Rune clutched her back with both of his, both struggling desperately to suppot themselves. She eased herself down onto him and Rune let out a cry into the mouth that held his as her warmth surrounded him. Lyssa sighed and kissed him harder. Her feet braced awkwardly against the drawers as though they were footholds in rocky terrain, she repeated the motion with more force, while her lips pulled away from his to work their way along his neck.
“Lyssa!” he gasped, one hand falling from her back to grope for the edge of the counter. His palm, slick with sweat, struggled to find a hold on the smooth surface. He curled his fingers around the rim and put as much of his weight as he dared into his arm, straining for the leverage to return Lyssa’s eager thrusts.
“I don’t know how long I can keep this up,” he said, the counter climbing up his back in short jagged steps as his knees slowly gave way. Her face still buried in the side of his neck, Lyssa laughed. The legs splayed around him tensed, her hips ascending to bear down on him once more.
“Seriously.” He shuddered as muscles clenched violently around him. His fingers clawed at the wood as it slipped away. “I- Woah!” He pushed away from the cabinets for fear of cracking his head on the counter as his knees folded, wrenching Lyssa’s boots from their hold. She tucked her legs behind his back and they both went tumbling down.
Rune and Lyssa collapsed in a tangled heap on the kitchen floor, bodies still writhing against each other. His hands floundered, grasping at any part of her that came into reach. Flesh and cloth passed beneath his touch in a blur of sensation as he fought to find some part of her to hold on to.
“Oh, Rune,” Lyssa murmured, her body tightening around his in rapid spasms while her lips tore at his throat. His voice joined hers as release came over him, his hands wound in her hair and his back pressed to the cold floorboards. Her hands closed over his shoulders and her knees tight against his sides, she continued to rock and cry out until they both came to a shuddering halt.
With a last, gentle kiss on his cheek, Lyssa sat back and smiled at him. Rune looked from the rumpled skirt that fell across them both, to the pants twisted about his ankles, to the utterly ridiculous grin that split Lyssa’s face, and laughed.
Lyssa tapped one finger playfully on his nose. “Good, no?” she said.
Rune shook his head and laughed again. “Won’t hear me argue.”
A gurgle sounded from the direction of the stove. Both jerked their heads towards the pot to find the water seeping from beneath its lid, landing, with a hiss, on the coals below. Rune muttered a curse as he squirmed out from under her and reached for his pants.
“Like that wasn’t worth ruining a meal for?” said Lyssa, grinning as she watched him scramble to his feet.
“Not that,” he said, grabbing a spoon as he hurriedly fastened the button. “I’d rather not have to explain why it’s ruined.”