the_gene_genie | OOM: Room 6620, #6

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OOM: Room 6620, #6

He knows he's probably in trouble as he drags himself up the stairs. He only went down to have a quick pint, and pick up some more wine. He's been gone about five hours now, he estimates, though it's really hard to care. Sitting on the garage floor after a scrap has left him stiff as a board, and freezing cold. The half bottle of Scotch - not to mention Guppy smacking him on the melon a few times - means his head's pounding. Everything aches, and he wants nothing more than to climb into a warm bed, and stay there forever.

But he can't do that. Enough of this. He's been trying so hard, but it's time to throw in the towel. He can't go through another encounter like that. All that's left is to tell her.

He lets himself into their room quietly, half hoping she'll be asleep but knowing he'd have to wake her up anyway.

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God, she can't get enough of him. The backs of her knees hit the mattress, and she gasps as she falls, a bit inelegant but not deterred . Her fingers can't work fast enough, tugging at the button on his jeans. She grins up at him, her teeth fixed in her lower lip.

A moment later, her hands find bare skin. She growls low under her breath, easing his jeans down slow enough to torture them both.

'My turn...'

He swallows, and without having a conscious thought, his hand slips around to the back of her head. A step forward, and he doesn't push, but there's an undeniable easing of her towards the erection he's holding out for her to see to. It's flushed already, damp at the tip, evidence of how much he enjoys making her come.

'Go on, luv.'

She never breaks eye contact with him, leaning in close to brush her cheek against velvet skin. Her head turns, and she draws in his scent. His musk fills her head, and she can't help but moan. It's right there, and all she has to do is part her lips and taste, drawing him in in one smooth motion. Her hands smooth up his chest, down over his hips, down his thighs, urging his jeans down to the ground before moving up again, devouring his skin by touch alone. He'll never know how much restraint it takes, but she does her best to take her time, watching his face as she makes love to him.

His breath catches in his throat, and he has to force himself to let it out. She looks so beautiful like this, not doing it because she has to, but because she clearly wants to. It lets him relax, and not rush, confident that she's enjoying it too.

The knot in his gut wants it harder, tighter, faster. But he says nothing, and doesn't encourage her, doesn't push further into her mouth. The slow sucking, the gentle pulse around him as she squeezes, her hands all over his body - he moans quietly on the next exhale, and strokes his fingers through her hair, trusting her to get them there eventually.

Her eyes fall closed, and her focus narrows to just this, strong hands gathering him up, circling the base of his shaft and pulling him away from his body. There's an urgency in her touch, a slow intensity that's building breath by breath. Wet lips fix around the head, and with a slow press, she takes him deep.

When she withdraws, it's with a breathless gasp, and she gives him no quarter, sliding down the keel all the way to his bollocks, painting his skin with wet, suckling kisses. Keeping a firm grasp on his shaft, stroking him as she explores.

He stands with his head tipped slightly back, mouth open, eyes closed, and draws long, deep breaths into his lungs to try and control himself. He can't stop arching into her mouth a little, pushing to meet her when she sucks him in so deep, but he doesn't want to choke her.

So he fights to stay still, through his fingers don't seem to have got the message. They knead her scalp gently, pressing harder when she catches him around the crown and makes him groan. Eventually, one hand moves to relieve some of the pressure, reaching underneath her chin to cup his sac. He presses forward again, swearing softly as he squeezes, and rolls his balls in his palm.

'...'dy hell, Alex.'

She pulls away from his touch, nipping at his fingers playfully. Her hand grasps his wrist, making it clear that she can take over that little detail, both with hand and mouth.

'Come and lie down,' she purrs against his skin, returning to suckling him a little harder, her hands starting to make demands.

'Mmm.'

That's a good plan. His leg hurts. But still - she's sucking him again, and his chest pulls in sharply as he grunts quietly in surprise.

'Need to...stop that. First.'

She pulls off him with a breathless moan, taking his hand as she stands, easing him towards the bed.

'On your back. I'm not finished with you, yet.'

'Glad to hear it.'

He turns and sits, easing himself backwards because he still can't bend the stupid knee. It's going to be a problem later, because he doesn't want to be passive. But they'll sort that in a bit. For now, his cock aches and he palms it as he turns lengthways on the bed, trying to ease it a bit.

'C'mon, sweetheart.'

There's a note of desperation in his voice, and he doesn't care.

As if she's going to leave him wanting. Not a chance of that happening. Not a chance in hell. She insinuates herself between his legs, stalking up his body, painting his skin with hungry kisses. Her hands stroke up his thighs as she bends to catch him in her mouth again, her body melting down across his hips to pin him right where she wants him. Again, she keeps eye contact as she works, and there's a fire in her gaze, dark and intent.

A groan chokes out of him, and his fingers immediately work back into her hair. A little more pressure this time, keeping her right where he wants her, trying his best to arch up into her willing mouth. He holds her gaze, breathless, feeling the flush over his cheeks as she twists him higher and higher.

He makes it easy to let the rest of her cares just fall away. All she has to do is look into his eyes, those amazing blue eyes. So many times, she has wanted to reach out and touch him, to make this shared gaze into something more than just a stolen moment of intimacy. And here she is, her hands petting over his skin, his hand warm in her hair, and those eyes, looking at her like she's all that matters right now.

Her eyes fall shut and she focuses on the sound of his voice, on the rhythm of his body. He makes it easy to let go and pour herself over him, pour herself into the act of pleasing him, with breath and touch and kiss.

Edited 2012-11-29 03:05 (UTC)

She is all that matters right now. Since the world nearly fell, she has been all that matters. He can't lose this now, not when they've been given this chance to get it right.

'Alex...'

She's relentless, and perfect, and he can't stop himself thrusting up to meet her. She keeps her mouth so tight, so warm and wet, and she never let's up. He keens quietly, and suddenly grips her hair, twisting and trying to pull away and push forward at the same time.

'Stop...sweet'eart, stop...Christ...'

The moment he asks, she stills, separating from him with a breathless moan. The momentum of her hunger carries her up his body, stalking on all fours, holding herself above him. She tries to catch her breath, needing her wits about her so she can savor every little detail about him. Her lips mark a soft, wet line up his chest until she's nuzzling under his chin.

Her voice carries a note of concern. 'Too much, love?'

'Never. Just close.'

The hand at the back of her neck ushers her up so he can kiss her; the other runs over her shoulder-blade, down her side and on to her arse. He squeezes gently, then pushes down, encouraging her silently to take what's waiting for her.

He dreams about coming in her mouth, but she's not a prostitute, and he'll never ask her to let him. And it's not like her riding him will ever be a poor substitute.

She meets his kiss, letting her hunger slip, letting him feel just how much she wants him. Her body settles along his, chest to chest, astride his hips with just enough room to slide along his entire length, catching his aching cock between them.

'Next time,' she murmurs, and the very thought stokes the fire in her skin. She deepens the kiss with a soft hum of arousal, letting his hands draw her up until she's poised to take him in. Only then does she pull back to look into his eyes again.

He is all that matters to her, now. Maybe he can see that reflected in her gaze, or feel it in the way she's holding her breath.

'Next time...what?'

He's panting quietly, trying not to push at her, but arching up again as though he could reach high enough to take her. He can feel her wetness sliding over the crown of him, and the mental image makes him groan; more so when he looks down, and sees it for real.

'...Sweet'eart...'

He doesn't add the please, because Gene Hunt does not beg. But he's thinking it in his head.

It's as simple as drawing a breath, and just as powerful, letting her weight settle as their bodies align. The heat of his skin penetrates her, and the feel of him sliding home sends a frisson through her entire body. He feels so good, she can barely think, let alone speak to answer his question.

All she can do is take him, inch by inch, until she's flush against his hips, breathing in and out slowly, forcing herself to make this last. His desire makes her own catch and burn, but she doesn't want this over quickly. She can't stop the gentle push and pull, answering his own hunger. She could never deny him this. Or anything, really.

His eyes flicker closed, and he exhales softly through parted lips. His hands slide around to rest on her hips. He makes himself lie still while she takes him, pins him, gives him what he wants; but when she's there, with him locked safe inside, he can't help but push. Just a little bit.

'You are...the most...beautiful...'

It chokes off, which is probably good, as it saves him from saying anything embarrassingly girly. But he doesn't care. He takes her hands in his, and interlocks their fingers, using his heels to rock up into her, slow, so slow. But he keeps her at half an arm's length so he can see her face, and watch her body.

She grips his hands tight, the wash of emotion so powerful, she has to close her eyes or it will overwhelm her. Her smile is tinged with a sadness.

'Careful. I'll start, oh, thinking you, like me or something.'

'Wouldn'...want that.'

He lifts his shoulders off the bed when she closes her eyes, easing her near enough to kiss. Just a short one, his fingers tight around hers.

She kisses him back, a full-throated moan on her lips as the angle changes. Her hips curl, sliding along his length, returning to rest against him, pressing him deep, finding the rhythm. Slow enough to linger, strong enough to keep them on a lazy spiral of rising heat.

She studies his face, her own expression bare and vulnerable. He knows all her fears, all her hopes, all her desires. He knows everything, and even with the truth between them now, she still doesn't know him, not as well as she'd like to. Another breath, and she can't help but bend and steal another kiss, quick like his own, but soft. A quiet expression of the currents running under her skin.

As ever, the way she examines him makes his gaze move away, because he doesn't like feeling exposed. Particularly now. But he's not trying to pull away from her; the opposite, if anything, rising to meet her, loving the feel of her clenched tight around his length.

But it's OK, to his mind. She's giving him plenty of other stuff to look at, and his breath huffs out again at the sight of her breasts hanging over him, the flat stomach and curve of her hips. He'd touch, but he likes the weight of her resting against his hands. And he's torn, because he's throbbing with want inside her, but he doesn't want this to be over.

She follows his gaze, and rises up to sitting. Her eyes flutter closed and she can't help but swirl her hips, her lips parting at the wash of heat. She rocks, forward and back, letting the motion travel up her spine, riding him properly now.

Her nerves sizzle with pleasure, sending tingles down the insides of her thighs and up her spine, fizzing out the top of her head like champagne.

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