Fic: The Duplicity Hypothesis (3/3)
Title: The Sunshine Enlightenment
Author: MrsVC
WC: 693
Rating: R
AN: I don't even know what's wrong with me. This chapter would be NOTHING if not for fujiidom . THANK YOU SO MUCH, BB.
Written for Fiction Friday/Smutty Saturday: OTP challenge
Part One
Part Two
It had become sickeningly, sickeningly real when Leonard went New England to visit his parents on their anniversary. She had donned a new perfume that evening for a night on the town and she had shoved the soft skin of her wrist under his nose. He sniffed it cautiously, knowing what his eyes would look like, how his face would be flushed. Her perfume was dusty like sunshine and warm like butter and it fogged his brain in a way he didn't like, didn't trust. He tried to glance up at her but was afraid to let her see his eyes, let her know of the sudden rush of desire that happened. So, he stepped away from her outstretched arm, trying to put the distance he needed between them. But she followed him, shut the apartment door, grabbed his hand. He saw her eyes were wide and bright, begging him to know.
And he sees her. She is Penny, from across the hall. She is a Queen. She is a goddess. She is a lioness.
She is his.
So he buries his hands in her blond hair and pulls her to him with all the haste of his suffering. She follows him, urging it all to move faster, get farther. She pushes him past the couch, past the kitchen, steadying him as he stumbles over the step into the hallway but never lets his lips or hands leave her body. His fingers slide down to her shoulders, under the strings that were holding her dress up, and he knew that she had never planned to leave. That all this was careful planning on her part, all for him, all for the need. She had known. She had seen through all his defenses and slights and walls and boxes.
He didn't remember opening the door but he remembered sliding those straps down her arms before hearing the gentle whoosh of fabric hitting the floor. He could remember pressing her into his mattress, discovering the heat of her body to be hotter than anything he had imagined. He remembered when it was he whose hands snaked up her thighs and his thumbs hooking into the purple lace of her underwear. Her hands snaked under his shirts, pushing them over his head and onto the floor. It was her who shimmed the comforter down from under her and her who pushed his khakis down his legs.
And it was wrong, wrong, wrong, his mind would chant to him, trying to get him to give into himself, into his inexperienced nervousness that he had been suppressing. Instead, his body chanted, right, right right and his mind shut down from instinct and fantasy. His lips followed the path of that long evaporated bead of sweat from the rodeo, searing his need like a map on her body. He felt her toes curl against his shins when he finally wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her hips to his. And he felt that prideful smirk of his fantasy on his face when she whispered things in his ear as he moved within her, burying his nose into her neck, into her hair, his lips tasting the oils of her perfume. And her hands gripped him, her breath scorched him, her eyes cherished him.
And it was better than any dream. It shattered his box and opened unto him a new plane of experience as her thighs pressed his lean hips and her teeth grazed his earlobe.
And in that last moment, she brought her face close, her lips hovered teasingly over his, stealing his breath, changing his life.
Shattering his stacks of mental boxes and long built walls.
And he realized this hadn't been some Neanderthalic contest of mating rights or an animalistic pride battle. This had been about Penny; always, forever about Penny. This had been Penny's rodeo, not theirs.
And it had always been up to Penny to make that choice.
As she settled against his soul, against his body, into his bed, he thought that maybe he had underestimated Leonard and his views on life, maybe he had underestimated the power of human emotion, maybe he had underestimated himself. So he looked into her eyes as she claimed his shoulder as her own and let her know that he knew now, that he understood, and that he had made his decision too.
That is was always, forever her.
Thank you for all your support! I hope you enjoyed it!
Much love, MrsVC
Author: MrsVC
WC: 693
Rating: R
AN: I don't even know what's wrong with me. This chapter would be NOTHING if not for fujiidom . THANK YOU SO MUCH, BB.
Written for Fiction Friday/Smutty Saturday: OTP challenge
Part One
Part Two
It had become sickeningly, sickeningly real when Leonard went New England to visit his parents on their anniversary. She had donned a new perfume that evening for a night on the town and she had shoved the soft skin of her wrist under his nose. He sniffed it cautiously, knowing what his eyes would look like, how his face would be flushed. Her perfume was dusty like sunshine and warm like butter and it fogged his brain in a way he didn't like, didn't trust. He tried to glance up at her but was afraid to let her see his eyes, let her know of the sudden rush of desire that happened. So, he stepped away from her outstretched arm, trying to put the distance he needed between them. But she followed him, shut the apartment door, grabbed his hand. He saw her eyes were wide and bright, begging him to know.
And he sees her. She is Penny, from across the hall. She is a Queen. She is a goddess. She is a lioness.
She is his.
So he buries his hands in her blond hair and pulls her to him with all the haste of his suffering. She follows him, urging it all to move faster, get farther. She pushes him past the couch, past the kitchen, steadying him as he stumbles over the step into the hallway but never lets his lips or hands leave her body. His fingers slide down to her shoulders, under the strings that were holding her dress up, and he knew that she had never planned to leave. That all this was careful planning on her part, all for him, all for the need. She had known. She had seen through all his defenses and slights and walls and boxes.
He didn't remember opening the door but he remembered sliding those straps down her arms before hearing the gentle whoosh of fabric hitting the floor. He could remember pressing her into his mattress, discovering the heat of her body to be hotter than anything he had imagined. He remembered when it was he whose hands snaked up her thighs and his thumbs hooking into the purple lace of her underwear. Her hands snaked under his shirts, pushing them over his head and onto the floor. It was her who shimmed the comforter down from under her and her who pushed his khakis down his legs.
And it was wrong, wrong, wrong, his mind would chant to him, trying to get him to give into himself, into his inexperienced nervousness that he had been suppressing. Instead, his body chanted, right, right right and his mind shut down from instinct and fantasy. His lips followed the path of that long evaporated bead of sweat from the rodeo, searing his need like a map on her body. He felt her toes curl against his shins when he finally wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her hips to his. And he felt that prideful smirk of his fantasy on his face when she whispered things in his ear as he moved within her, burying his nose into her neck, into her hair, his lips tasting the oils of her perfume. And her hands gripped him, her breath scorched him, her eyes cherished him.
And it was better than any dream. It shattered his box and opened unto him a new plane of experience as her thighs pressed his lean hips and her teeth grazed his earlobe.
And in that last moment, she brought her face close, her lips hovered teasingly over his, stealing his breath, changing his life.
Shattering his stacks of mental boxes and long built walls.
And he realized this hadn't been some Neanderthalic contest of mating rights or an animalistic pride battle. This had been about Penny; always, forever about Penny. This had been Penny's rodeo, not theirs.
And it had always been up to Penny to make that choice.
As she settled against his soul, against his body, into his bed, he thought that maybe he had underestimated Leonard and his views on life, maybe he had underestimated the power of human emotion, maybe he had underestimated himself. So he looked into her eyes as she claimed his shoulder as her own and let her know that he knew now, that he understood, and that he had made his decision too.
That is was always, forever her.
Thank you for all your support! I hope you enjoyed it!
Much love, MrsVC