She had come down late in the night or early in the morning, depending on your view of time, groggy but searching for him. She stopped when she found him, where she knew he would be. The room wasn't dark, but dimly lit and shadows danced in the corners, the atmosphere lay heavy, she could feel it. She stood for what felt like a long time, just taking in this picture of him. He seemed to take up so much more space than he did, but then she always felt that way. Sitting more or less central on the sofa with his elbows rested on his legs, there was an arch in his back, and his hands were clasped tightly together into a knotted fist in the space between his knees, his knuckles looked white. He had on jeans a darker grey shirt.
She didn't have to hide there, he wasn't going to see her with his eyes cast down, deep in thought. Her eyes focussed on the details of those knuckles, the tightness of the grip, followed up the length of his bare forearms to the edges of his rumpled sleeves.
Leaving him to his thoughts she walked away, softly padding her bare feet across the floor to the kitchen and drawing her dressing gown, which was the only thing she wore, a little tighter around her form. When she came back to him she brought a small glass with a drink, the ice made gentle clinks as she walked. Only when she put the glass on the table nearby did he look up to her. She wished that she knew what he was thinking, the lines of his face told stories in languages she couldn't decipher.
Without a word, barely a sound at all she knelt down in front of him, she wanted to take all of his worries away, at least for now.
Tentatively entering his space, she gave him a small smile then leaned a little closer so that her cheek could brush softly against the back of his fingers, those white knuckles. The warmth from his skin spread across her face and her mouth turned up more at the corners when he didn't flinch away, letting her be there.
A gentle sigh broke the silence, hers perhaps but maybe him too, and something ever so slightly changed in the air. His fingers loosened their entwined grasp, she allowed her parted lips to brush across them, feeling the bumps of his knuckle's caressed the silken pout, with a gentle promise. There was a quiet tenderness in the moment that wrapped around both of them, she drank him in.
She kissed each knuckle as they passed over her lips and the knot of his fingers broke, they stretched open, more than simply being allowed now he began to welcome her presence. With his fingers unhooking from their clasped fist, the tips found their way to her cheek, the lightest brush and she melted more into him. She pressed warm kisses into his palm before he cupped her face with it. She sucked air between her teeth feeling the he cool metal of his bracelet at her jaw, her mouth travelled to his wrist where it lay, warm breath and kisses painting her way. A whispering sound of delight escaped her and danced along his skin and she pushed her body up to be closer to him.
Her own hands had come to rest on the bareness of his arms, she loved feeling the rough hair on her fingers. She drew little patterns on his flesh, parting the hair and making swirls. There was an asymmetry now, of his fingers also playing their way into her hair, his thumb lingering on her lips. She moaned softly against the digit for a moment before he pushed it between the parting, and onto her tongue. They danced together in her mouth, this first exploration of the ways her body was going to open up for him. The taste of him was a nectar to her, opening her mouth fully for the intrusion, her head dipped back a little, her throat exposed for him. He understood the submission all too well, his other hand found her throat, wrapping his fingers around it where he could feel her quickening pulse. She purred for him, sending vibrations through those fingertips, and hot breath on his still invading thumb. She swallowed hard, pressing her fingers a little firmer into his arms, the edges of freshly manicured nails pushed into his flesh ever so slightly as her body rose more towards him, she was lifted up on her knees, arse off to floor, her eyes had been closed in those moments but they opened and found his now. She wanted to ask him, to beg him to be allowed into his lap, but this wasn't a time for words, he didn't need to hear her say "Sir, please", he knew. There was a fire building in his own gaze, it was subtle but she saw the familiar glimmer. The fingers in her hair twisted into a grip, those against her throat tightened, now a firm grasp, almost a threat which made her body tremble with hope, desire.
He all but dragged her willing body up onto him this way, the pressure of his thumb under her chin, by her throat and hair like a dolly. He enjoyed her hungry growl, the feel against his fingers, which melted to a hungry whimper as she found her place over his now closed legs to straddle him. Her hands had moved up his arms, gripping the tops, holding onto him like a safety rail on a rollercoaster. The thought amused her as it flicked through her mind, he was a wild ride in so many ways. Seeing the amusement on her face brought a curious raise to his eyebrow but he said nothing of it.
Her hands slid to his chest, the buttons of his shirt, her fingers would have made quick work of those given the chance, but he stopped her with a sharp snarl. His fingers closed around her wrists and pulled them away from him hard, forcing them behind her back. Her questionings were silenced even as they formed, before she could think to speak them, his expression told her that she would be his to do as he pleased, and not the other way. The way he was taking his control sent shocks through her body, she quivered, this time the whimpering moan she elicited for him, like music only he could create filled the silence, punctuated in raspy needful breaths.
