song_tra_bong | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Mary Anne is pretty sure she's found the right world. That knowledge isn't as comforting as she'd thought it would be.

The trail leads her to a hotel, where she almost drops the ball. The description of the man sounds like Ramon, but the presence of two kids throw her. She almost lets it go.

Almost.

But then she figures the guy could be mistaken, or maybe it's part of Ramon's cover, or maybe...

She follows the lead.

Ramon (she's assuming it's Ramon) did a good job of covering his tracks. But there are still things to point the way: someone cleaned the cabin, stocked it with food. Even false names on rental paperwork are names, and they're names she's seen before.

(Spain, France, Switzerland)

She doesn't think she's assuming any more.

She rents a motorcycle, an offroad number with chunky tires and an engine that growls like a bear. She rides it most of the way up the mountain, before parking it and hiding it off the side of the road. She continues the rest of the distance on foot.

There's a gun in the small of her back, money and ammo in the bag at her hip; knives in all the usual places. She thinks she's right, but it's important to be prepared.

She steps up onto the porch, careful not to let the boards creak, then knocks on the door.

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She hums, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

"You're pretty good at that," she murmurs, eyes glancing in the general direction of her thrown bra before meeting his again.

'I'm talented.'

Also, he's had a lot of women.

'If you want to put it back on, I can pretend to fumble around with it like a teenager if you prefer'.

"Oh, hell no."

She rocks her leg up into him to emphasize her point.

His eyes shut and he swallows hard - he's probably not going to metion the fact that it's been almost a year since he's had sex because it would sound really lame - but it is on his mind that he's going to have to work to prolong this.

She is pulled towards the bed. Bed seems like a good idea right about now.

The bed seems like a great idea right now.

He pulls her and she lets him, using the momentum to get out in front of him and hit the bed first. She pulls him down after her.

Almost as soon as they hit the sheets he's fumbling with the button on her pants, kissing her again before leaning down to suck lightly on a nipple. Perhaps she would prefer it harder, he thinks, but he can't seem to find it in himself to be rough tonight.

Damn pants. He never finds them as easy as bra straps.

Much as she might enjoy rough sex, she doesn't need it. Right now, she's happy enough just to have him.

She slips one hand down to try and help with her pants, although she may just be getting in the way.

He pushes her hand out of the way and manages to get the damn button undone. Exactly half a second later, his fingers are slipping under her panties and stroking her gently, looking for her clit and all the while revelling in how nice it is to touch a woman again. it's hardly a novelty but there has only been...one? two?...in the last five years or so.

She arches her hips up into the touch, gasping, while she hauls his face closer for another kiss.

He smiles, presses a little more firmly, satisfied at her reaction but making sure there's more of it.

'Bet you taste amazing,' he murmurs, between kisses. 'And you're not getting out of this bed until I find out.'

She moans, back arching slightly.

"Want you to find out," she gasps.

'Soon,' he says quietly against her ear. He's loving seeing her like this, not going to rush. Fingers probe lower, pushing into her as he nips lightly at her earlobe.

She moans again, pitched lower this time.

"Oh God, whenever you want."

Damn right.

He's smiling as he brushes her lips with his again, working his fingers faster but no harder, taking his time and just enjoying the sight of her. Fuck, she's hot.

Mary Anne whimpers, hiding her face against his throat.

She presses open-mouthed kisses over his pulse point, her breath coming faster.

He holds her close to him with his free arm, leaving his neck open to her because it feels nice, her tucked in there. He's looking for distractions to stop himself just ripping the rest of her clothes off and taking her right this second, so he concentrates on his rhythm and her breathing, looking for the places that she seems to like best...which doesn't help actually, because there's nothing more arousing thatn a turned-on woman. But he's trying.

"Oh, God."

The word is equal parts whine and sob.

"There, right the-aah--"

Oh yeah, right there. He slows down but stays where he is, teasing, harder then softer, faster then slower, circling then pressing. He can hear nothing but their breathing, feel nothing but her and the glorious painful pressure stuck in the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans.

The whine shifts up an octave.

"Don' tease me, baby, please--you wa-want me to beg you for it, that what you want?"

'Not yet.'

Ramon had forgotten how much he loves being in charge. He leans in and kisses her hard, pulling back just a fraction to add, in a tone deep with lust,

'You can do that when I'm sucking your clit.'

And he pulls away, kneeling up so he can pull her jeans off, finally getting to see all of her.

"God, yes."

She lifts her hips to help get her jeans off, trying to make it happen as fast as possible.

Seconds later and they're gone, just like his T-shirt. He forces himself to slow down as he pushes her knees apart (she's right there, I could just have it...) and leans over her, kissing her once on the lips before leaving a trail of them over her breasts, down her stomach and finally where he really wants to be, moaning in satisfaction as he spreads her open and the tip of his tounge begins gently licking.

She cries out softly, threading the fingers of one hand through his hair.

He's starting slow on purpose, wants to build it up, really wants her to enjoy this. It's obvious how much he loves it, he's watching her face as much as he can to see her reactions as he tickles and sucks slowly.

She's not going to have any trouble enjoying this.

Her nails rake lightly over his scalp, almost in time with her breathing.