Fic: Inevitable
4 Feb 2006 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misaffectionPairing: Rodney/Laura
Rating: M / Adult to be safe.
Word Count: 1326
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mmmchelle's neck!porn challenge
She shouldn't be here. It's late, she's done a three-day shift and she's beyond tired. She's not eaten much either and that really doesn't help. She doesn't know what resources she's running on now. It's certainly not common sense.
She stands just inside his lab, leaning on the wall as she watches him work. His hands mesmerise her. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the haze from her brain. Her eyes settle on his arms. The fact he's shed the jacket isn't helping her state of mind because now his arms are bare and she finds her gaze travelling up from the ever-moving fingers to his shoulders.
He's bent over a device on the table, all his attention on mending it. He's not noticed her arrival and she's been there a good ten minutes. He sits back and startles her out of the drowsiness that's hauling at her limbs. He rubs his neck, sighs, and then goes back to work.
His neck catches her attention now. She can see the tension in it, spreading down to his shoulders. She isn't the only one tired and she feels an empathy for him. She finds herself moving, drawn to him and his neck.
He freezes when her fingers touch him, as she brushes the tips feather-light down his neck. His mouth drops open but no words emerge. Her fingers run up to his hairline and he shivers, just slightly.
It was not a reaction she was prepared for. She blinks, the dream-like state that's settled over her breaking. She stares down at his neck, at her fingers resting on his skin. She's not entirely sure what to do now. As a lack of a better idea, she caresses him again. His eyes close and he swallows. But he's still not saying anything, nor is he moving away.
Feeling bolder, she places her other hand on his shoulder. She can feel the knots of tension beneath her palm. Pressing down, she circles the thumb at the base of his neck. He shudders and groans. The sound sends a tingle of pleasure through her veins.
She moves closer, until she can feel the warmth emanating from his through her clothes. She's not actually touching him, not quite. Not other than with her hands. It dawns on her then what's she's doing. Whom she's doing it to.
Yet she can't move away, can't stop her fingers brushing his soft, warm skin. She realises how long it's been since she's had contact like this. Intimate contact. She's hungry for it; it's a need stronger than that for sleep or food right now. She wants to taste him.
She does so, bending her head to touch his neck with her lips. She feels him tense, hears his breath catch then release in a tiny gasp. His fingers thread into her hair. Her eyes close at this wordless encouragement. Her lips part and she draws a little circle on his skin with her tongue. He groans again but louder this time, his fingers tightening on her hair.
Then he murmurs her name and she's lost to him. She mouths his neck, revealing in the taste of his skin. She works her way down from just under his ear slowly, finding and pausing at the more sensitive spots, until she reaches the join of neck and shoulder. She's indulges her wicked side here, biting down. She'll leave a mark, she knows that now. Evidence to remind him later, to remind herself that this is real and not a dream.
He gasps, then groans, then his hand moves down from her head and grabs her arm. The next thing she knows she's on his knee, legs straddling his thighs, his tongue battling with hers. Her fingers still stroke his neck. His hands work up and down her spine and she can feel herself melt into him.
There's a hardness pressing into her groin. Her nipples go hard at the sensation and she gasps against his mouth. She drops her head to his shoulder, finding the skin of his neck under her lips again. He's pulled her top upwards and his fingers are skimming the flesh at the base of her back.
She shudders. She can't catch her breath and her head is spinning, her thoughts scattered. She moans softly and prays he won't stop. Because she can't. She needs this now, needs him too much. She shouldn't have come, shouldn't have stayed, but it's way too late.
Thankfully he seems as intent to see this through. He's undone her bra and is easing her out of her t-shirt. She hasn't a clue where he tosses it to and doesn't care because his hands are on her breasts and fuck it feels so good. She moans and leans into his touch. Her lips move up his neck and she nibbles his ear before whispering his name breathlessly.
He moves her then, lifting her onto the table, the device shoved carelessly to one side. She watches, lost in a haze of lust as he stands, stripping his top before he embraces her, his mouth searching for hers. The touch of his bare chest against her breasts sends white heat burning through her and she whimpers, her voice high and airy.
It's all happening fast now. Her trousers are round her ankles and she doesn't recall him doing that. The table is cold under her arse but she doesn't care because he's pushing her legs apart. He's hard and hot and he sinks into her, her name on his lips. She moans, clutching at him. She'd worry about leaving imprints in his flesh but he's moving within her and the thought is lost.
He has one arm around her waist, holding her as he drives into her harder and harder. His other hand kneads her breast. She clutches him tighter, her fingers on his arms, her mouth on his neck. She has no idea how he's going to explain the marks. He retaliates, taking the flesh of her neck between her teeth. She laughs huskily then cries out as he plunges into her deeper still.
Her skin prickles into gooseflesh as ice floods through her. A surge of heat follows, numbing her thoughts further. For several seconds she'd aware of nothing but him. Within her, around her, his skin pressed against hers. She can taste his sweat, feel the rapid pulse of the vein in his neck under her lips. His breath whispers over her neck, shifting her hair.
The climax begins to ebb. Her body is cooling, sense returning. She bits her bottom lip as he pulls away, dropping her eyes as he scans her face. There's a touch on her cheek and she looks at him. There's wonder in his expression, mixing with bemusement. He also looks rather wary.
She smiles at him, shaking her head slightly. She doesn't understand this either. She doesn't regret it either. The smile widens at that thought and she looks at him shyly. His eyebrows arch. She shrugs carelessly. Her eyes wander to the rather impressive hickey she's left on his neck. She traces it with her fingers, the smile broadening further.
He chuckles softly and she looks back at him. He grins at her and suddenly her heart soars. There are no embarressed words, no apologies, no regrets. Just an acceptance of something that's probably been inevitable since they were thrown together. She knows they need to talk about this, just not now. Maybe next time.
Because she knows that there will be a next time. She knows as she pauses by the door, standing where she was at the start of this, to glance back at him. He's sat down as if nothing had happened, working at the device again. However he's grinning like an idiot and humming quietly.
Her gaze takes in his neck, the marks on it, and she grins too.
Rating: M / Adult to be safe.
Word Count: 1326
For
mmmchelle's neck!porn challengeShe shouldn't be here. It's late, she's done a three-day shift and she's beyond tired. She's not eaten much either and that really doesn't help. She doesn't know what resources she's running on now. It's certainly not common sense.
She stands just inside his lab, leaning on the wall as she watches him work. His hands mesmerise her. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the haze from her brain. Her eyes settle on his arms. The fact he's shed the jacket isn't helping her state of mind because now his arms are bare and she finds her gaze travelling up from the ever-moving fingers to his shoulders.
He's bent over a device on the table, all his attention on mending it. He's not noticed her arrival and she's been there a good ten minutes. He sits back and startles her out of the drowsiness that's hauling at her limbs. He rubs his neck, sighs, and then goes back to work.
His neck catches her attention now. She can see the tension in it, spreading down to his shoulders. She isn't the only one tired and she feels an empathy for him. She finds herself moving, drawn to him and his neck.
He freezes when her fingers touch him, as she brushes the tips feather-light down his neck. His mouth drops open but no words emerge. Her fingers run up to his hairline and he shivers, just slightly.
It was not a reaction she was prepared for. She blinks, the dream-like state that's settled over her breaking. She stares down at his neck, at her fingers resting on his skin. She's not entirely sure what to do now. As a lack of a better idea, she caresses him again. His eyes close and he swallows. But he's still not saying anything, nor is he moving away.
Feeling bolder, she places her other hand on his shoulder. She can feel the knots of tension beneath her palm. Pressing down, she circles the thumb at the base of his neck. He shudders and groans. The sound sends a tingle of pleasure through her veins.
She moves closer, until she can feel the warmth emanating from his through her clothes. She's not actually touching him, not quite. Not other than with her hands. It dawns on her then what's she's doing. Whom she's doing it to.
Yet she can't move away, can't stop her fingers brushing his soft, warm skin. She realises how long it's been since she's had contact like this. Intimate contact. She's hungry for it; it's a need stronger than that for sleep or food right now. She wants to taste him.
She does so, bending her head to touch his neck with her lips. She feels him tense, hears his breath catch then release in a tiny gasp. His fingers thread into her hair. Her eyes close at this wordless encouragement. Her lips part and she draws a little circle on his skin with her tongue. He groans again but louder this time, his fingers tightening on her hair.
Then he murmurs her name and she's lost to him. She mouths his neck, revealing in the taste of his skin. She works her way down from just under his ear slowly, finding and pausing at the more sensitive spots, until she reaches the join of neck and shoulder. She's indulges her wicked side here, biting down. She'll leave a mark, she knows that now. Evidence to remind him later, to remind herself that this is real and not a dream.
He gasps, then groans, then his hand moves down from her head and grabs her arm. The next thing she knows she's on his knee, legs straddling his thighs, his tongue battling with hers. Her fingers still stroke his neck. His hands work up and down her spine and she can feel herself melt into him.
There's a hardness pressing into her groin. Her nipples go hard at the sensation and she gasps against his mouth. She drops her head to his shoulder, finding the skin of his neck under her lips again. He's pulled her top upwards and his fingers are skimming the flesh at the base of her back.
She shudders. She can't catch her breath and her head is spinning, her thoughts scattered. She moans softly and prays he won't stop. Because she can't. She needs this now, needs him too much. She shouldn't have come, shouldn't have stayed, but it's way too late.
Thankfully he seems as intent to see this through. He's undone her bra and is easing her out of her t-shirt. She hasn't a clue where he tosses it to and doesn't care because his hands are on her breasts and fuck it feels so good. She moans and leans into his touch. Her lips move up his neck and she nibbles his ear before whispering his name breathlessly.
He moves her then, lifting her onto the table, the device shoved carelessly to one side. She watches, lost in a haze of lust as he stands, stripping his top before he embraces her, his mouth searching for hers. The touch of his bare chest against her breasts sends white heat burning through her and she whimpers, her voice high and airy.
It's all happening fast now. Her trousers are round her ankles and she doesn't recall him doing that. The table is cold under her arse but she doesn't care because he's pushing her legs apart. He's hard and hot and he sinks into her, her name on his lips. She moans, clutching at him. She'd worry about leaving imprints in his flesh but he's moving within her and the thought is lost.
He has one arm around her waist, holding her as he drives into her harder and harder. His other hand kneads her breast. She clutches him tighter, her fingers on his arms, her mouth on his neck. She has no idea how he's going to explain the marks. He retaliates, taking the flesh of her neck between her teeth. She laughs huskily then cries out as he plunges into her deeper still.
Her skin prickles into gooseflesh as ice floods through her. A surge of heat follows, numbing her thoughts further. For several seconds she'd aware of nothing but him. Within her, around her, his skin pressed against hers. She can taste his sweat, feel the rapid pulse of the vein in his neck under her lips. His breath whispers over her neck, shifting her hair.
The climax begins to ebb. Her body is cooling, sense returning. She bits her bottom lip as he pulls away, dropping her eyes as he scans her face. There's a touch on her cheek and she looks at him. There's wonder in his expression, mixing with bemusement. He also looks rather wary.
She smiles at him, shaking her head slightly. She doesn't understand this either. She doesn't regret it either. The smile widens at that thought and she looks at him shyly. His eyebrows arch. She shrugs carelessly. Her eyes wander to the rather impressive hickey she's left on his neck. She traces it with her fingers, the smile broadening further.
He chuckles softly and she looks back at him. He grins at her and suddenly her heart soars. There are no embarressed words, no apologies, no regrets. Just an acceptance of something that's probably been inevitable since they were thrown together. She knows they need to talk about this, just not now. Maybe next time.
Because she knows that there will be a next time. She knows as she pauses by the door, standing where she was at the start of this, to glance back at him. He's sat down as if nothing had happened, working at the device again. However he's grinning like an idiot and humming quietly.
Her gaze takes in his neck, the marks on it, and she grins too.
