the_gene_genie | OOM: Texas, 1888. Just outside Oakville

There's a thrill in undressing so close to him but still out of sight — which, of course, he spoils the instant he turns to watch her. But, there's a thrill in that, as well.

She's smiling at him. God knows why, but it wells up from somewhere deep inside, and even if he isn't elegant, or graceful, or classically romantic, it only makes the smile grow. She loops her arms around his neck and lets the change in their positions naturally ease her back, finding the best way for their bodies to conform as he moves atop her.

He loves the feel of arms around his neck like this. There's a delicious masculinity in having a woman wrapping herself around him, waiting for him to make her feel good. He's always seen it as his job not to fail at it, especially if he gives a shit about the woman nice enough to let him do this.

'Question is,' he says when he pulls back, and conversationally, as though they've been talking all along, 'how much d'you hurt?'

He's pressing down onto her, fitting himself between her legs so they're comfortable as they lie. But he's not about to make any sudden moves. They have time, and he still wants her to enjoy it.

She eases her legs open as he presses down between them, and thinks she must have given herself away by her barely concealed grimace.

"Feel like I've been in the saddle for days, ridin' through rough terrain. An' there's a ... a deeper ache."

The grimace, and the teasing over it when she mounted the horse earlier.

He pulls back a little further, so his frown in clearly evident.

'I haven' damaged you?'

Bloody hopes not.

"Oh, you've damaged me all right."

She smiles softly, sliding her arms down until she's cupping the back of his neck. One thumb moves across his jaw.

"But not in the way you're thinkin'."

...yeah, he's not getting it.

'You what?'

She laughs quietly, letting her head fall back against the feather mattress.

"I'm teasin'."

There's a definite blush in her cheeks. She isn't used to there being this much talking after the clothes come off.

"I ain't an expert, here. But, you were gentle. An' I've been sore before, when it's been a ... while. You're — not what I'm used to."

The smirk is immediate. Predictably.

'Bigger, eh?'

Excellent.

He raises up, bracing himself on straight arms and rubbing his erection lightly between her legs.

'Wan' me t'kiss it better?'

As soon as that cat-who-ate-the-canary grin starts to spread across his face she's biting back a retort. So, so very tempted to pinch his belly and say there are a lot of things that are bigger. But she doesn't want to bruise his pride right now. So, she settles for a sharp look and an exaggerated sigh.

She tilts her hips against him, shifting to feel more friction.

"I want you t'make me forget it hurts at all," she taunts sweetly. "An' not be a pecker about it."

She could go ahead. He has no problem with his beer gut. Sign of a real man, that.

'Do you?'

He chuckles quietly, and leans down to pull his tongue across one of her nipples.

'What do I get in return?'

He's clearly teasing. Or maybe just pushing his luck. Either way, he's already shifting back a bit, starting to work his mouth down her body.

He might start having problems with his beer gut after a few days of doing the work of a cattleman.

The swipe of his tongue has her arching, and she chuckles breathlessly. She moves her hands into his hair and clucks her tongue, making that universal sound for 'not so fast'. Ah-ah-ahh.

"I paid in advance," she smirks, eyes slipping shut. "Remember?"

'Mmm, well.'

He sounds like he's disputing that. Though he's really not, because it was great. His lips catch her nipple properly, and pull at it, wet and light, his eyes amused as he looks up to her face.

'We'll see.'

Her breath catches.

"Guess we will."

She opens her eyes and smiles at him. There's really no right or wrong in this instance. Done right, they'll both be winners.

"But, first things first."

'That your way of tellin' me t'shut up an' get on with it?'

He laughs again, and moves his mouth to her other breast. But there's still an inexorable shift southwards, no longer looming over her, moving his body down, if not his mouth.

She chuckles.

"Maybe."

Every time he inches south she also shifts, anticipation and excitement unraveling in her belly. His attentions feel so good, but she can't take her mind off his destination. Last night's pleasure comes swimming back to her, lighting a hungry fire in her eyes.

'Bossy mare.'

But he's moving easily enough. If you ignore the fact he told her he doesn't do this often, you could almost describe him as eager.

But that doesn't stop him pausing, kissing a slow, wet line across the very base of her abdomen, still looking up at her with amusement.

'Admit you loved it las' night, an' I'll hurry up.'

He's determined to loosen her up around him, if only a little bit. They'll both have more fun that way.

She groans.

"I swear t'God, your ego's the biggest thing about you."

But she's laughing on that last syllable, brushing her leg against his side, hoping he'll take it in hand and open her up to him. She chews on her bottom lip, rationing her breath.

She answers him, slow and sultry.

"I enjoyed it every bit as much ... as you did."

Smirk.

He raises his eyebrows, and once, just once, slips lower to plant a soft kiss over her clitoris.

And then moves north again.

'Hardly, luv. I mean, I didn' mind doin' it, but it was you tryin' not to yell swear words at me.'

He does take her leg though, pushing it firmly to the side and holding it there. It's pretty clear that he's not going to back out of it, but he's got no problem making her work for it a bit.

She tamps down a moan, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

(Can't stop the way her hand curls in the sheets, though.)

"Guess you're gonna hafta work harder, then."

'Thought you wanted t'be discreet?'

Hell, he has no problem with her screaming whatever at him. So if that's the way she wants to play it, he's game.

He snorts one final, quiet laugh and lets his tongue take over, pushing through her folds to find what he wants. What she wants, obviously, if that hand in the sheet is anything to go by. And if he was slow and easy last night, this time he's pushing her a bit from from the start. Light flicks, yes; soft licking. But not as slow, not as tentative, because now he knows she likes it. And he's not willing to let her drive all the time.

Discreet, oh god.

"Y'should snuff out th'ligh — "

She's suddenly without the air to finish. Even if she had it, she wouldn't be able to think straight enough to remember what she was saying. Lordy Mercy, she can feel the blood pulsing in her cheeks almost as hot as it is in her low belly.

Her fingers stop teasing and groping, and go tight in his hair. She's quiet. But she's not exactly breathing, either.

He keeps on for a minute or two, until her fingers get a bit too tight. He pauses just a moment, and then pats her hand with a laugh.

'You'll have me bald if you keep that up.'

A long, rough lick, and he brings a finger up to tease around her entrance.

'An' I'm not puttin' the light out. I wanna see, later.'

He shuts up then. She tastes good, and just like last night, it's exciting, being the first bloke to do this to her. His tongue is fast on her, barely there at times, it's so light. But he counters that with light sucking with his lips, and the occasional slow pull with the flat of his tongue. No particular rhythm, no set speed. He's not trying to make her come yet. He just wants to get her fired up.

He's doing a good job of it. But she's more determined to be quiet than she was last night. They're in her room, and it's still early enough for there to be traffic downstairs, and in the hall. No easy excuses this time. But Jesus.

She mumbles an apology, or at least thinks she does. All of her concentration is bent on that mouth, on his fingers, on trying not to writhe, remembering not to yelp. Her hand drops to the bed, and just for a second she feels out of place, like there's something she should be doing to him. It's hard to hold that thought, though.

Her teeth sink into her lip. They'll be swollen and rosy by the time he's done with her.

Edited 2011-09-19 23:26 (UTC)

And he's not done with her yet.

One finger slips inside her, then two. A gentle, easy, in-and-out, no pressure. Just sensation, he hopes, to add to what he's doing with his mouth. And now he concentrates a bit harder, trying to ignore his own pulse between his legs, sucking on her clit like a baby at its mothers breast, eyes turned up to watch her face, dark with lust at the way she's trying to keep it all in. He just wants to see her break. Wants her to admit that they're good like this, and that she likes it. For her to know that it's alright to relax and enjoy herself.

She muffles another groan when he pushes inside her. She's aching and oversensitive, but after a few seconds it only lends itself to the swell of arousal crashing into her at steady intervals. Kate's stubborn, and it'll take a lot of doing to get her to break. But her body reacts.

She gasps, jerking at a spike of pleasure. Her hand leaves the bed, moving toward his hair again, but she pulls back. Her nails sink into her thigh instead, one steadying moment, and then she's reaching up touch her breast.

"Gene," she whispers.

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