Odd Couple 32

We stay like that, but not long. The fire and explosions will bring too much attention, and we have to leave quickly, before we can be followed. Slowly, your grip on me grows less fierce, your hands move up, into my tangled mess of hair, tilting my head up to kiss me, not gently.

The edge in you, from the outpost, hasn’t completely settled away yet. Anger and passion create a mix that, given the time to properly enjoy, could make us both forget how badly what just happened rattled us.

But there is no time left, not now. Quickly, back up front, make a break for it. We’re not followed. The mercenaries had spotted you at the hangar, their own greed prevented them from having the word spread any further. And now the mercenaries are dead. We’re free.

“I think I find killing mercenaries to be even more personally satisfying than killing crooked politicians ever was, Riddick.”

The tension in you finally breaks, booming out in laughter, as you turn to face me.

“Maybe that’s what we should do then, kill mercs for a living.”

Again, the question that isn’t a question, but is, too.

“If you’re going to kill people…”

I can’t even finish the thought, the tension of being strapped under the wing of the ship has had it’s effect on me, and I have a case of the giggles.

“Sorry”…..”Can’t help it..”

Shaking my head at myself, I go rummaging through the small bag of our belongings, sighing to myself.

“So…when was the last time you had a decent meal, Mr Riddick?”

You just grin at me, and plot a course for Helion Prime.

~~

The Alhambra Inn. Couldn’t get the same room, but managed to get one floor up. Same view of central New Mecca. Still have the address you slipped me, the first day we met.

You laughed when we landed. Asked if you should wait for me while I visited the brothel first. I’m not so worried about the wine going to my head this time. Dinner is good, especially after protein bars forever, but neither one of us seems very interested in eating. Like the first day I met you, all I want to do is touch you.

This is silly. Both of us stop playing with our dinner at the same time. It’s good, no doubt, but it’s not what we really want. I’m curled up on my chair, and you’re standing behind me, before I manage to uncoil myself, kissing my neck, biting the sensitive skin of my shoulders. There is no rush in either of us, this time.

Your hands slip over my breasts, the painful friction of fabric over nipples, down over my hips and back again, pulling my shirt over my head, the bra’s next. Quick squeeze of a nipple, as you slide your hand over my belly, to undo my pants. Kick them off. I try to turn, but you won’t let me. Lazy circles over my clitoris.

You turn, guiding me, to the bed, making me kneel at the edge, while you unbutton. One hand on the small of my back, over, low, on my elbows, my chest almost touching. Kneel behind, a hand on each thigh, your tongue exploring my sweet slick wetness. One hand reaches, to tug on my elbow, guiding me to play with myself, while you stand.

Your first strokes are almost playful, just the head, in and back, slowly, until I want to scream. I arc back for you, but your hand on my lower back prevents further entry, until finally, you enter me fully, all at once. I’d scream, but I haven’t the breath anymore. Everything goes grey at the edges, as the first orgasm washes over me, with a ferocity that nearly makes me faint. You’re not finished with me yet.

My thighs shake, as you guide me over, and, one hand holding my calf, thrust to the hilt. My back arches, and, rather than lose control of me, you slip your elbow past my shoulder, pinning me. There’s no moving, no sliding back, as you thrust, harder and harder. The animal flows into us both again, and we are both crying out, biting each other, lost in the moment. Everything in me fighting you, loving being pinned and hating it at the same time. Faster and faster, til I can’t even scream anymore. Lightheaded and out of breath, my toes curled painfully, everything grey, an orgasm of such exquisite pain and pleasure that it feels like dying.

You help me lower my spasming thigh, I whimper at the ache, and lie beside me, resting on your elbow, your hand stroking my belly. We nestle into each other, as our sweat slowly cools.

Gooseflesh, as your sweat grows cold. Help you to sit up, you gasp a little, sore. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not, and neither are you. Sit close enough to hold you, you’re exhausted, your head rests on my chest.

I have fought this moment from the first morning I woke up with you. Everything in me wants to run, make some excuse to myself, tell myself some stupid story about how you can’t get close to me. Considering how I’ve lived my life, I sure don’t have much guts when it really counts.

I remember that moment, sitting in the pilots chair with you, my hands over yours, you were terrified, but did it anyway, then strapped under the wing of a ship, in open space. That fear has been in you since I’ve met you. You never once let it stop you, but stood in the face of it. And I want to run from mine right now. But I won’t. Lift your head up, my hands in your hair. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.

“I love you, Ava.”

::END::