fic: What I'd Do To You (Part IV)
TITLE: What I’d Do To You (Part 4)
AUTHOR: Brio
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Good morning.
WORDS: 1,796
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Lea/Dianna
NOTES: You can find previous parts to this at my journal. LJ doesn't like me posting links. Rude. All mistakes are mine.
Unsurprisingly, she’s still fast asleep when you wake up. During the night, you’ve drifted apart to your separate sides of the bed and it feels like you’re too far away. You want her to turn around, give you a sleepy smile and wrap you up in her arms. Arms. Your gaze travels from her shoulder to her elbow, taking in her toned bicep. She’s proud of the definition she’s managed to maintain despite doing virtually no exercise.
Subconsciously, your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you start to imagine how that arm looks when she’s on top of you, how the muscles flex and shift as she thrusts… You close your eyes momentarily and roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling.
You try to focus your attention elsewhere. Anywhere.
Thirty seconds later, it becomes perfectly apparent that your imagination isn’t going to let you think about anything else. Baseball. Golf. The economic state of Mexico. The decline of the song thrush in urban environments. The…
You draw a blank as her face appears above you, a devilish smile on her face. She bids you good morning and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. You’re acutely aware that she’s just a part of your imagination, glancing to your right to see that she’s still facing away from you on the other side of the bed. But when you turn back to the ceiling, there she is again, smiling.
Her eyebrow arches as you run your hands down her sides, settling them on her hips briefly before pulling her close to you.
“Morning,” you murmur, rolling your hips up to meet hers.
“What’s got you so worked up?” she ponders, ducking her head to place gentle kisses to your forehead, to your cheek, the tip of your nose, your lips…
“You,” you groan, your hands sliding lower in an effort to keep her hips attached to yours. She bites her lip and rocks gently into you causing you to sigh, glancing quickly to the right to make sure you haven’t woken the sleeping beauty next to you.
You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to go back to sleep. To stop imagining that she’s on top of you, her mouth kissing and nipping you neck, her fingertips teasing you with light strokes. You shake your head as a pulse rockets through your body. Hard strokes.
Her imaginary hand is replaced with your own, sliding up to cup your breast. You start slowly at first, drawing a circle around your hardened nipple with the tip of your index finger. A shiver runs through your body and you know that you’re not going to be able to stop now. Especially now that memories of the previous day come flooding back to you.
The fireplace, the rug, the strawberries, the chocolate… those stupid short shorts. You make a mental note to throw them out. Or have them framed. Or make a rule that means she has to wear them at all times in the apartment. Maybe you’ll go buy a few more pairs as a belated Hanukkah gift.
With as little movement as possible, you flick the tips of your fingers over your nipple before pinching it, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Your hips rise a little, that spot between your legs begging for some attention.
Carefully, you spread your legs a little wider, aware that you’re already wet. That doesn’t stop you from dragging a solitary finger through your folds though, just to check. You hesitate for a few seconds before running a teasing finger over your clit, enjoying the sensation it creates through your entire body.
Fingers nestled between your legs, you return your focus to your other hand, still palming your breast. You tug gently at your nipple before shifting your attention to the other, rolling it between your fingers. She’s still at the forefront of your thoughts as you imagine that it’s her hand, that it’s her fingers doing this to you; that she’s leaning in close to you and whispering in your ear, telling you exactly what she wants you to do.
You freeze when she shifts slightly, making a quiet snuffling noise as she repositions herself on the pillow. You wait for her to fall silent, her breathing becomes even again and you relax, bending your left leg as you dip your hand lower between your legs.
The relief that washes over your body as you ease two fingers inside is overwhelming and you have to force yourself to stop the moan building in your chest. For a second or two, you consider waking her up…
The thought of her fingers inside you renews whatever feeling you’re trying to quell and you begin to thrust as motionlessly as possible; your other hand still working the increasingly sensitive skin around your nipples. A flashback to the day before causes you to curl your fingers ever so slightly and your hips buck involuntarily.
“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, eyes whipping to the right only to lock with hers. You blush a furious shade of red and open your mouth to say something but she shakes her head and reaches across to tug the sheets that are covering you down to your waist. The cool air causes your skin to bristle and you pause, wondering if you should continue.
Under her intense stare, you begin to work your nipple between your fingers again, pulling, pinching and tugging. Now that she’s awake, you have no reason not to voice your arousal and a guttural moan leaves your lips.
“How many?” she asks, nodding her head towards the lower half of your body, still covered by sheets and a blanket.
“Two,” you whisper hoarsely, curling your fingers again. She sits up suddenly and moves quickly to remove the rest of the sheets, leaving you completely exposed. Her gaze lingers on the hand between your legs, teeth biting down on her lip as she lies down, covering herself in a blanket again.
“Three,” she says in a musing tone. “If you want.”
You feel a muscle spasm somewhere inside you at the tone of her voice.
“I need a little more… stimulation,” you reply.
“I’m not helping,” she replies with a smirk. “You started this.”
“Visual stimulation?” you ask, returning her smirk. She rolls her eyes and from the movements beneath the blanket you know that she’s teasing her nipples. You watch her eyes flutter closed and hear her gasp softly. “And the blanket?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “It looks a little chilly.” She props herself up on her other elbow and continues her ministrations beneath the blanket.
You groan in frustration as another pulse shoots through your body, shooting her a glare before turning your attention back to the ceiling. You decide that two can play whatever game it is she’s suggesting. You’re not really sure. You just know that you have to relieve the tension that’s building inside you, with or without her help.
When she moans, you stare determinedly forward. You know exactly what she’s doing, you know how she likes to touch herself, and you’ve watched her a hundred times. Your hand begins to work faster, fingers pushing deeper inside as your hips rock up from the bed. You feel the mattress shift as she moves slightly closer.
You chance a glance in her direction to find that she’s let the blanket slip to her waist. And her hand is hidden beneath it.
“How many?” you ask, your breath hitching as she lets the blanket slip a little lower.
“Two,” she purrs. You watch, mesmerised, as always.
“Race you,” you challenge and her smirk returns.
“You’ve got a headstart,” she points out and you concede.
“Then I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up,” you reply. She considers this for a couple of seconds and shakes her head.
“I’m not going to need it,” she moans, arching back from you. “Loser makes breakfast.”
“Deal,” you say.
She rolls onto her back, one hand still behind her head and you’re stunned motionless by how quickly her other hand has started to move beneath the blanket. It takes around half a minute for you to regain your motor skills and you remind yourself that you can’t lose this. You won’t lose this.
You settle into your rhythm again, thrusting and pinching, imagining that it’s her when she moans your name. Four times. Really loudly. Your eyes rocket over to her to find her grinning back at you. You watch her body curl as she stops thrusting and turns her attention to her clit, the blanket slipping away completely from her body. You moan her name, removing your hands from your body and rolling onto your side, moving closer to her.
“No touching,” she mutters through laboured breaths.
“No,” you agree, bobbing your head up and down. “I just want to watch.”
“I’ll win,” she says.
“Completely worth it,” you reply, lowering your head to exhale a stream over cold air over her breasts. She groans.
“No touching,” she repeats, arching up from the bed.
“I didn’t,” you reply cheekily, vaguely aware that your hand has worked its way between your legs again and that your fingertips are drawing circles around your clit. “Are you close?” She nods, biting down on her lip as she presses harder against her clit, her fingers working in furious circles. “Pinch it,” you whisper, inches away from her ear. She moans, eyes rolling back, her mouth falling open. You watch as the lower half of her body jerks upwards and smile, doubling your efforts on the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs.
The hand behind her head slides down between your bodies and her fingers claw at the sheets.
“God, I need to…”she gasps.
Watching as her body arches up from the mattress again, fingers continuing to move as she shudders through her orgasm, you find the visual stimulation you needed and it only takes a few more strokes for you to tumble. You moan her name as your body curls in on itself and collapse onto your back, panting heavily.
It takes a minute for her hand to grasp onto yours, fingertips drawing a heart on your palm.
“Good morning,” she mutters, rolling over to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Good morning,” you reply, turning to return the kiss. She shivers slightly and reaches for the blanket, pulling it up over both your bodies before wrapping her arms around you. Her lips start to press kisses across your chest, working up your neck to your lips.
“So, what are you making me for breakfast?”
You smile and shake your head, pulling her down for another kiss.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Part Five
AUTHOR: Brio
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Good morning.
WORDS: 1,796
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Lea/Dianna
NOTES: You can find previous parts to this at my journal. LJ doesn't like me posting links. Rude. All mistakes are mine.
Unsurprisingly, she’s still fast asleep when you wake up. During the night, you’ve drifted apart to your separate sides of the bed and it feels like you’re too far away. You want her to turn around, give you a sleepy smile and wrap you up in her arms. Arms. Your gaze travels from her shoulder to her elbow, taking in her toned bicep. She’s proud of the definition she’s managed to maintain despite doing virtually no exercise.
Subconsciously, your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you start to imagine how that arm looks when she’s on top of you, how the muscles flex and shift as she thrusts… You close your eyes momentarily and roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling.
You try to focus your attention elsewhere. Anywhere.
Thirty seconds later, it becomes perfectly apparent that your imagination isn’t going to let you think about anything else. Baseball. Golf. The economic state of Mexico. The decline of the song thrush in urban environments. The…
You draw a blank as her face appears above you, a devilish smile on her face. She bids you good morning and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. You’re acutely aware that she’s just a part of your imagination, glancing to your right to see that she’s still facing away from you on the other side of the bed. But when you turn back to the ceiling, there she is again, smiling.
Her eyebrow arches as you run your hands down her sides, settling them on her hips briefly before pulling her close to you.
“Morning,” you murmur, rolling your hips up to meet hers.
“What’s got you so worked up?” she ponders, ducking her head to place gentle kisses to your forehead, to your cheek, the tip of your nose, your lips…
“You,” you groan, your hands sliding lower in an effort to keep her hips attached to yours. She bites her lip and rocks gently into you causing you to sigh, glancing quickly to the right to make sure you haven’t woken the sleeping beauty next to you.
You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to go back to sleep. To stop imagining that she’s on top of you, her mouth kissing and nipping you neck, her fingertips teasing you with light strokes. You shake your head as a pulse rockets through your body. Hard strokes.
Her imaginary hand is replaced with your own, sliding up to cup your breast. You start slowly at first, drawing a circle around your hardened nipple with the tip of your index finger. A shiver runs through your body and you know that you’re not going to be able to stop now. Especially now that memories of the previous day come flooding back to you.
The fireplace, the rug, the strawberries, the chocolate… those stupid short shorts. You make a mental note to throw them out. Or have them framed. Or make a rule that means she has to wear them at all times in the apartment. Maybe you’ll go buy a few more pairs as a belated Hanukkah gift.
With as little movement as possible, you flick the tips of your fingers over your nipple before pinching it, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Your hips rise a little, that spot between your legs begging for some attention.
Carefully, you spread your legs a little wider, aware that you’re already wet. That doesn’t stop you from dragging a solitary finger through your folds though, just to check. You hesitate for a few seconds before running a teasing finger over your clit, enjoying the sensation it creates through your entire body.
Fingers nestled between your legs, you return your focus to your other hand, still palming your breast. You tug gently at your nipple before shifting your attention to the other, rolling it between your fingers. She’s still at the forefront of your thoughts as you imagine that it’s her hand, that it’s her fingers doing this to you; that she’s leaning in close to you and whispering in your ear, telling you exactly what she wants you to do.
You freeze when she shifts slightly, making a quiet snuffling noise as she repositions herself on the pillow. You wait for her to fall silent, her breathing becomes even again and you relax, bending your left leg as you dip your hand lower between your legs.
The relief that washes over your body as you ease two fingers inside is overwhelming and you have to force yourself to stop the moan building in your chest. For a second or two, you consider waking her up…
The thought of her fingers inside you renews whatever feeling you’re trying to quell and you begin to thrust as motionlessly as possible; your other hand still working the increasingly sensitive skin around your nipples. A flashback to the day before causes you to curl your fingers ever so slightly and your hips buck involuntarily.
“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, eyes whipping to the right only to lock with hers. You blush a furious shade of red and open your mouth to say something but she shakes her head and reaches across to tug the sheets that are covering you down to your waist. The cool air causes your skin to bristle and you pause, wondering if you should continue.
Under her intense stare, you begin to work your nipple between your fingers again, pulling, pinching and tugging. Now that she’s awake, you have no reason not to voice your arousal and a guttural moan leaves your lips.
“How many?” she asks, nodding her head towards the lower half of your body, still covered by sheets and a blanket.
“Two,” you whisper hoarsely, curling your fingers again. She sits up suddenly and moves quickly to remove the rest of the sheets, leaving you completely exposed. Her gaze lingers on the hand between your legs, teeth biting down on her lip as she lies down, covering herself in a blanket again.
“Three,” she says in a musing tone. “If you want.”
You feel a muscle spasm somewhere inside you at the tone of her voice.
“I need a little more… stimulation,” you reply.
“I’m not helping,” she replies with a smirk. “You started this.”
“Visual stimulation?” you ask, returning her smirk. She rolls her eyes and from the movements beneath the blanket you know that she’s teasing her nipples. You watch her eyes flutter closed and hear her gasp softly. “And the blanket?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “It looks a little chilly.” She props herself up on her other elbow and continues her ministrations beneath the blanket.
You groan in frustration as another pulse shoots through your body, shooting her a glare before turning your attention back to the ceiling. You decide that two can play whatever game it is she’s suggesting. You’re not really sure. You just know that you have to relieve the tension that’s building inside you, with or without her help.
When she moans, you stare determinedly forward. You know exactly what she’s doing, you know how she likes to touch herself, and you’ve watched her a hundred times. Your hand begins to work faster, fingers pushing deeper inside as your hips rock up from the bed. You feel the mattress shift as she moves slightly closer.
You chance a glance in her direction to find that she’s let the blanket slip to her waist. And her hand is hidden beneath it.
“How many?” you ask, your breath hitching as she lets the blanket slip a little lower.
“Two,” she purrs. You watch, mesmerised, as always.
“Race you,” you challenge and her smirk returns.
“You’ve got a headstart,” she points out and you concede.
“Then I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up,” you reply. She considers this for a couple of seconds and shakes her head.
“I’m not going to need it,” she moans, arching back from you. “Loser makes breakfast.”
“Deal,” you say.
She rolls onto her back, one hand still behind her head and you’re stunned motionless by how quickly her other hand has started to move beneath the blanket. It takes around half a minute for you to regain your motor skills and you remind yourself that you can’t lose this. You won’t lose this.
You settle into your rhythm again, thrusting and pinching, imagining that it’s her when she moans your name. Four times. Really loudly. Your eyes rocket over to her to find her grinning back at you. You watch her body curl as she stops thrusting and turns her attention to her clit, the blanket slipping away completely from her body. You moan her name, removing your hands from your body and rolling onto your side, moving closer to her.
“No touching,” she mutters through laboured breaths.
“No,” you agree, bobbing your head up and down. “I just want to watch.”
“I’ll win,” she says.
“Completely worth it,” you reply, lowering your head to exhale a stream over cold air over her breasts. She groans.
“No touching,” she repeats, arching up from the bed.
“I didn’t,” you reply cheekily, vaguely aware that your hand has worked its way between your legs again and that your fingertips are drawing circles around your clit. “Are you close?” She nods, biting down on her lip as she presses harder against her clit, her fingers working in furious circles. “Pinch it,” you whisper, inches away from her ear. She moans, eyes rolling back, her mouth falling open. You watch as the lower half of her body jerks upwards and smile, doubling your efforts on the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs.
The hand behind her head slides down between your bodies and her fingers claw at the sheets.
“God, I need to…”she gasps.
Watching as her body arches up from the mattress again, fingers continuing to move as she shudders through her orgasm, you find the visual stimulation you needed and it only takes a few more strokes for you to tumble. You moan her name as your body curls in on itself and collapse onto your back, panting heavily.
It takes a minute for her hand to grasp onto yours, fingertips drawing a heart on your palm.
“Good morning,” she mutters, rolling over to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Good morning,” you reply, turning to return the kiss. She shivers slightly and reaches for the blanket, pulling it up over both your bodies before wrapping her arms around you. Her lips start to press kisses across your chest, working up your neck to your lips.
“So, what are you making me for breakfast?”
You smile and shake your head, pulling her down for another kiss.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Part Five