Re: In Person: Sharon C/Steve R - tub things
[Nothing was ever a quiet moment with the two of them entangled like this. Even the lightness of her hands against his burning cheeks, her forehead against his—they were as full of insinuation as anything, unhelped, of course, but the tilt of her hips and the crush of her breasts against his chest. Their breath mingled, and he wanted to kiss her, but she was looking at him and him at her, and he waited in the swell and swill of bathwater growing cool.
He was glad too, that he'd waited, when she spoke, and his concentration broke into a smile, bright and heated. She was his and he was hers, and it wasn't about possession, but about connection. That dizzy grin dwindled as she withdrew some, lifting herself out of the water a bit, only to come back down.
Slowly.
If she drove him crazy before, there wasn't a word for now. Steve moaned softly against her skin, wet and sticking to his own, his brows drawn and lips parted. His arms wrapped around her, low on her waist, hands curved beneath her, as she took him in. His mouth on hers swallowed his name as she said it and deepened, hungry made starving with #206 freshly blooming in perfect recall in his mind. He'd wanted her at the party, and he wanted her now, and he'd waited. But, now that was over. Now he had her, and as she rode him beneath the whitecapping water of the bath and he lost himself to the feeling of her, the only thing he wanted now was for her not to stop.]