Katie Bell (katieflies) wrote in snitchers, @ 2017-08-07 22:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: katie bell, char: oliver wood |
Who: Katie & Oliver
What: Old Friends Reunited/Recklessness
Where: Oliver's Flat
When: [Backdated] Friday 4th August
Rating: Highish
Status: Complete
This was insane. Asking Katie Bell - a well-known rebel - to his flat ranked fairly high on the what-the-hell-are-you-thinking meter, and yet Oliver rationalized having her under his roof meant she would be safe for at least one more night. She also couldn't have been eating well, and that was reason enough for Oliver to start cooking... Nevermind that he needed something to focus on while nervousness built up at the base of his skull and threatened a headache.
Somehow it felt like riding a blind horse toward an abyss. He had the illusion of being in control, and probably he really was but something in him was continuously writhing in his stomach. If they were caught... At the worst, Oliver would probably have to deal with a benching, maybe demotion to the reserves. He trusted that Puddlemere had spent too much money let anything serious happen to their highest money-maker. The same definitely wouldn't apply for Katie.
With the water boiling Oliver stepped away and peered outside. He pressed his forehead to the glass of the window, watching the calm suburban street, the neatly cut bushes, the old woman walking her dog, the plastic toys scattered around the front lawn down the way, while he deeply inhaled the humid scent of various herbs boiling in the water. The only thing missing - in his opinion - were a family to call his own. For now, that could wait. The blue eyes remained sharp, detecting any movement that might signal the arrival of Katie.
~
Katie wasn’t sure what it meant that Oliver was allowing her to visit, but having never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and not feeling the need to ruminate on her decision and Katie set about showering and changing. She hadn’t seen Oliver in the longest time and though she suspected he felt somewhat hesitant regarding her teasing proposition, she at least had been somewhat serious, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her in her current state, hair unkempt and in clothes that were in less than stellar condition.
She’d do something about that on the way, perhaps. She’d been meaning to pick up some new things with the little money she’d managed to ‘acquire’, though today she was feeling lucky- certainly confident enough to cast a confundus charm or two on an unsuspecting shop keeper and simply take something so that she could keep her money for other things. Katie didn’t like the feeling that came from stealing, but having lifted much more than clothing since going on the run- the hotel room she was currently staying in being one of those things- she’d come to a firm conclusion that if an individual wasn’t adversely affected by her actions then it was fair game.
In the end, half an hour had been a fair estimate. Katie hadn't enough time to change completely, but feeling calmer than she had for a long time she'd managed to cast a near perfect cleaning charm on her jeans and t-shirt, the only addition to her somewhat grungy ensemble* being a flowery black shrug she'd spied the day before, stolen without a second thought from a shop not far from where she was staying. She'd apparated soon afterwards, aiming for as close to Oliver’s as she could and again finding herself surprised by how smoothly her spell casting was now that she was well rested- her scruffy shoes landing close enough to the front door that a couple of hurried steps had her well within knocking distance.
Katie hadn't been afforded the luxury of thinking things through in the time it took to get ready. There had been a moment in the shower when she couldn't keep her mind from wandering. She'd told Oliver she'd thought about them being together physically and... well, he didn't come out and say it in as many words in the end but he had. And the same little coil of arousal from then was unfurling in her lower belly even now as she waited. She wasn’t usually so single minded, and she did want to see Oliver as a friend more than anything else, but now that the seed had been planted and she had need to rid herself of the other conversations she’d had that day…
“I heard Oliver Wood, Puddlemere’s finest lives here.” She grinned, pressing her ear and fingertips to the door once she heard him on the other side of it. “I’m a massive fan- came for an autograph and a picture. I can wait though, I’ll sit on the doorstep, sleep here all night if I have to.”
~
His fingers drummed anxiously on the glass before dropping his hands with a tired jerk. Merlin, what was he doing? Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Oliver glared at his own reflection; What the hell, Wood? Oliver mentally chided himself. You've tried to help your friends and they've made it clear they don't want it. Why continue to worry? A new wave of anger surged in his chest, suddenly tasting bitter rather than burning white; somehow it felt shameful to even admit all his efforts were in vain.
Perhaps Ivy has been right: it was a waste of time to worry.
Turning back to the kitchen, Oliver focused on cooking once more. At the very least this served as a distraction to stop obsessively checking the time or the window. By the time he'd nearly browned the chicken a soft voice floated through the door. His whole frame froze not unlike a blood hound zeroing in on the rustling of its prey. He crossed the open layout of his flat in several strides, feeling as though his legs were on autopilot as he wrenched open the door.
Oliver's heart jostled around in his chest at the sight of Katie. She's alive, his mind concluded the obvious before shudder passed through him with the almost irrepressible urge to urge to hug Katie, but he was frozen to the spot, washed away by a tidal wave of different emotions. It drowned Oliver; he swallowed them down, unable to differentiate one feeling from the other. But more than anything else, he felt cheated. Somehow, in that moment, the utter misery of the previous weeks, every teardrop and every nightmare seemed ridiculous and fake, as though Katie's lackadaisical appearance somehow mocked Oliver's vain efforts.
"Katie." he breathed, feeling the dam holding back his emotions break and scooped her up into a tight hug.
~
Katie had forgotten just how tall Oliver was and for a second she was worried he was just going to stand there- impossibly tall and opposing, and tell her that it’d been a mistake finally letting her visit. But then his arms were around her and she let a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and squeezed him back with everything she had.
“Fuck, look at you, you’re actually real.” She managed, her words spoken into the shoulder of his t-shirt as she clung to him, not wanting to let go. Katie had known that seeing Oliver again after more than a year was going be emotional, but feeling the way she had that morning- calm but restless- and she hadn’t quite anticipated how intense the onslaught of emotions was going to be.
Still, she didn’t cry, instead pulled away to hold him at arm’s length, feeling a bit winded but smiling an impossibly wide smile as she took in the sight of him- real, tall, older… Katie felt a pang of sadness at that. She’d seen pictures of Oliver, of course, had even seen him play though he hadn’t realised she’d been there, but up close like this and being able to see his face, the face of a friend she spent hundreds of hours with growing up, who she’d kept in contact with even afterwards…
“Invite me in.” She urged, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet as she tugged on his hand. “Close the door and-“ Katie paused and realised she could smell something- home cooking maybe- and she looked to Oliver with an eyebrow raised. “you’re making dinner?”
~
He chuckled softly near the top of her head; the same conclusion of realness could have been expressed for Katie. Despite her tiny frame (had she always been so small?) and distinct look of someone not sleeping enough she felt solid. A real human. A real Katie. Not just words on paper. When she pulled back and studied him a thick fog suddenly seeped in Oliver's mind at her proximity. Now that she stood so close to him, and her scent engulfed him and wrapped his mind softly, it confirmed subconsciously this was indeed Katie, the girl he'd known school, his most promising Chaser, dear friend and first kiss. That familiar scent no polyjuice could ever replicate give him an unexpected feeling of calmness – all those years beside her, it somehow became a part of Oliver, like his own scent: a feel of familiarity, security.
The dark blue eyes roamed over the familiar features of her face, unabashedly taking in every detail greedily. The scar under her eye was new and Oliver's throat constricted at the idea someone had hurt Katie. The feeling turned to a brief pang of anger and his stomach was like a stone, cold and hard, a nauseating feeling stirring in it, and it was anything but rational. Just as the frantic, painful throbs of his heart against his ribcage, they weren't rational either. With a quick look up and down the hall of his building, as though Oliver expected to see the DMLE lingering in the shadows, he shuffled Katie inside and let the door close with a snap. At least the wards would give them time if someone did come for her.
"Well, Kates, you can't have had too many solid meals while running about." He ushered her to the couch. "It's near ready. Want anything to drink?"
~
“Oliver,” She managed, her tone scolding. “I haven’t seen you in years. I don’t want to eat… I eat, I do, I promise!” She reassured him. “I’m not constantly running around and skipping meals willy nilly. Ange and I cook all the time. She and I probably drink enough calories to keep us alive.” She added, with a slight smirk, though as they made their way into his flat she couldn’t help but stare. Katie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been somewhere this nice. Alec’s place was gorgeous, tastefully decorated and with everything a person could need and more, but this was something else.
At his question she paused, taking a moment to think before lowering herself to sit. “Is it too early for a real drink? I feel better than I have all week but I wouldn’t say no to something with a bit of a kick. I feel a bit-“ Katie couldn’t really articulate it. Being here with Oliver felt easy, almost as if coming here had always been an option, but at the same time it was disorientating and her chest was pounding with what she assumed was a strange mix of excitement and nerves.
~
Oliver steeled his nerves and pursed his lips, though the corners tugged into a smile against his will. Time hadn't changed Katie. She'd never been hesitant to give her opinion no matter what the circumstance, though it usually involved Quidditch and Oliver refusing to eat the morning before matches. It was comforting despite time and circumstances she'd not lost that spark.
"Well, it's ready, so you're going to have a plate," Oliver replied in that firm, captainly tone. She may no longer be his Chaser but a large part still felt responsible for his former teammate's well-being.
Pausing, Oliver cast a glance around the sitting room of his flat and mentally praised himself for taking the time to clean it earlier. The spacial room, with the white walls accented by smoke grey furniture, reflected his love of Quidditch. Along the walls framed posters displayed the dates and teams of long ended matches while books stacked the shelves ranging from the history of various teams to the physics of tossing a Quaffle. Various memorabilia - including an engraved candle holder from the 1801 World Cup - sat here and there while photographs of Oliver's family, friends and teammates broke the monotonous theme of the room.
He watched Katie quietly for a moment, the way the light played off her hair and illuminated one side of her face and he felt a quiet sense of peace wash over him.
"A drink?" Oliver, perhaps blurring the lines of what is acceptable in terms of alcohol consumption the past couple of years, was never far from reach of a bottle. "I've got plenty. What do you fancy?" He tipped his blonde head in the direction of a cabinet with clouded grey glass meant to conceal the contents within.
~
Katie raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I didn’t even know you could cook, I’ll eat just for the novelty of it.” She smiled, but then leant forward to look towards the cabinet he was approaching. She couldn’t see what was inside, but it looked expensive and no doubt contained a whole array of things she’d never tasted. It was what she’d do if she’d had to money after all. In fact, she was sure she and Ange had discussed at length what their hypothetical bar would contain, and though she’d only just sat down she couldn’t help but stand again, moving to his side to see what was inside.
“What have you got, Quidditch boy?” She asked, though as she said it she couldn’t help but grin to herself. She’d been calling Oliver Quidditch boy ever since their communication had been restricted to the journals and so calling him such when he was here and larger than life was… more than amusing. In fact, Katie couldn’t be sure Oliver hadn’t grown. He always had been taller than her, but standing at his side at his drinks cabinet he seemed much taller than she remembered. Even seeing him play hadn’t fully demonstrated how tall he’d gotten, though as she sidled up to him she couldn’t help but wrap her arm around his side and pull herself in close, not caring about size or change in that moment, instead just happy to be.
~
With the argument of dinner settled, Oliver followed alongside his guest to the liquor cabinet and touched the clouded grey glass with a lazy swipe of an index finger. The frozen smoke swirled under his touch before fading away like exhausted rain clouds to reveal a handsome shelf stacked with various alcoholic bottles of muggle, magical and a few potions tucked away here and there.
"It's unlocked," Oliver smiled, wrapping an arm tightly around Katie's petite waist while letting his hand linger on the small of her back just centimetres lower than what would be considered polite. He needed to hold Katie if anything just to satisfy the aching in his limbs while an irrational part of his mind panicked that if let go for just a moment she would fade off. "Take what you like, though if you're going to be fancy and pair it with dinner we're having chicken in a rosemary and lemon sauce. Couscous too."
~
“If I’m going to pair it with dinner?” Katie looked up at Oliver with an eyebrow raised but then soon buried her face in his side. She didn’t mean to be rude, not really, but she couldn’t help the laugh that came bubbling out of her, though it was muffled- thankfully- by the fabric of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Maybe we should mix something and give it a name? The Wood and Bell? It should probably have something Scottish in it, right? Bells or Teachers?”
God, three years. It seemed like forever. Sure, they’d spoken over the journals but that was… different. The last time she’d seen Oliver she was sure he’d been shorter, less built, that even his face had been softer. Not that he was any less attractive now than he’d been the last time she’d seen him. Katie always had been attracted to Oliver, he’d been her first kiss after all, but now he seemed different.
Maybe it was simply because she’d laid her attraction out in the open for him when they’d been talking to one another earlier. That or the feel of his large hand at her back being something she couldn’t help but fixate on. Katie always had been a touchy-feely person, even with those who weren’t in return. She didn’t know Oliver’s stance on closeness, at least not beyond a few hugs and their sole kiss- which, if Katie recalled correctly, she’d initiated- but she knew for certain was that he’d never touched her like this before.
“Honestly, I don’t mind. The food, the drink… it’s great, but I came here to see you.” Katie shook her head and for the first time since arriving sighed, feeling her emotions start to bubble beneath the surface. “It’s been forever. And the way things are going,” She added. “it’ll be three years until the next time I see you. Just- can we sit down, or… god, I meant what I said earlier…” She said, her hand moving to cover his so that she could guide it around to her hip as she turned to face him.
Katie knew she was pushing her luck, but she could already feel something in the air around them. It was maybe just tension at it having been so long since they’d seen one another, but a part of her, the part that was drawn in close and could smell the clean scent of his shirt and the hint of his skin beneath, it had her already aroused and imagining what he might look like beneath his clothes, whether the familiarity between them would grow or simply change if her allowed her to get closer.
“You’re always worrying about whether I’m okay and asking what you can do to help. Let me show you...” She offered, her heart racing in the most intoxicating way.
~
Merlin, he'd missed those little peals of laughter. The promise of a smile that played on the edge of Oliver's lips finally bloomed into one that spread across his face and lightened the dark blue eyes. Suddenly feeling bashful, he shifted a hand nervously through the blonde tresses and laughed softly, though not really sure as to why.
"Right, a Bells for my favourite Bell." A wink followed the boyish grin. Oliver began to untangle himself from Katie with a tiny bit reassuring squeeze on her side when her words halted him. He looked down over Katie's petite form, suddenly seeming smaller and more delicate than before, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up and tuck her away.
"It's not going to be another three years." Oliver promised. He simply couldn't allow it; how had so much time even passed? It seemed impossible to wrap his head around. Three years of worry, anxiety and feeling a disconnect from those who were closest to him. How had Oliver functioned properly when such a large piece of him had been missing? Katie's hand lightly grazed the bare skin over his own, guiding his hand lower on her hip, her own flesh leaving long lines that seemed to be on fire over his fingers. He tried, but failed, to swallow down the feeling uncurling in his groin.
"Let's just take it easy, right now, yeah?" He swept her hair back from her face, and followed the locks with wistful eyes, but as his gaze dropped to the hand, lingering for a moment on just how well Katie filled out her shirt than he remembered, an alarm bell sounded somewhere in the back of Oliver's head. She seemed so desperate for contact. It didn't feel right. "C'mon hen," the soft Scottish tone slipped from the standard London mask. "make yourself comfortable, I need to turn off the stove." There would be plenty of time for food and drinks later.
~
“Take it easy?” Katie huffed in frustration. “Were you just humouring me earlier when I told you I’ve thought about? Because if you’ve never wondered yourself then making me believe that you have and then telling me I can visit…” She wanted to let go of his hand, to take a seat on the sofa and make herself comfortable like he’d suggested, but she’d seen the interest in his expression, had felt the right kind of hesitancy in his touch.
“You keep looking at me like I’m going to combust or break, Ollie,” She began, slowly guiding his hand up and beneath the edge of her camisole, already in the midst of letting the shrug that was resting precariously on her shoulders slip along the length of her arms. “and I’m not going to do any of those things, not here, not now. Not unless that’s what you want.” She added, unable to keep from teasing, even if she wasn’t quite sure how he’d take it.
~
"No, Katie, I didn't mislead you..." A sigh passed Oliver's lips, wishing she would understand. Katie had always been spunky, though he couldn't remember if she'd always been so forward; it was almost as though she were a cat in heat. "Of course I wondered. I just," how could he word it without upsetting her? Oliver's mind didn't seem to want to work properly the closer his hand edged to her shirt. "I haven't seen you in years and you just seem different." Urgent, really. Like she knew her days were numbered and was checking off the remaining items on her bucket list.
His broad fingers reached the edge of the camisole and curled under the fabric, tracing gentle lines upward over the soft skin of her belly. Once more, Oliver lifted his free hand to brush at Katie's hair from the side of her face again before his fingers drifted along her jaw, down her neck and chest and plucked softly at the neckline of her shirt. "I just want to know this is really you, Kates. I wouldn't want anything but."
~
“I am different… but I’m me, I promise.” She reassured him, her breath catching as his hand swept over the bare skin of her stomach. For some reason she’d expected him to pull away and the fact that he hadn’t only served to encourage her. “You want me to tell you the training schedule you had us keep from your last year at school, or what drills you had us practice the most? I even remember what you said after I took that Bludger to the head my second year if that’d help convince you.”
The urge to close her eyes and just concentrate on the feeling of being touched was almost unbearable, though she managed to resist, instead finally letting her shrug fall to the floor as she moved to set her hands against his chest to brace herself as she lifted herself up on tiptoes. She wouldn’t kiss him, not until she was sure that he was on board with this, but whist she waited to see how he was going to react she moved to press her cheek to his and whisper- “I don’t want to do this if you think it’ll make things weird. I hope you don’t think that. After everything that’s happened lately, after-“ She paused and shook her head slightly . “I just- I think we could make each other feel good.” She said finally, not adding what she wanted to, that she felt like she needed it, that she might scream if it turned out that he didn’t want her after all.
~
A smile played on his lips as he contemplated the answer while his fingers snaked in her hair affectionately, creeping to the back of her head, pausing there. Oliver's gaze roamed Katie's face with open gentleness and maybe admiration, too. The suggestion she uttered made him flush in sudden timidity. It wasn't as though Oliver were a prude or inexperienced. He simply had never considered Katie as anything more until years later. Their age differences and his obsession with Quidditch had clouded his mind from Katie and other girl's attempts. Oliver hadn't even had a real sexual experience until shortly after his eighteenth birthday from a much older woman from the Department of International Games. It was only after then did his mind ponder on what could have been.
He groaned a response. It wasn't much above a whisper. A sigh. Was she really provoking this out of him? Was it possible? To his all too confused, hormonally drunken mind it really seemed so. Oliver studied her. Katie's face was soft and familiar. In the focal point of her gaze, he stood motionless, bewitched, straining his eyes to catch the perfect blue in her, watching what she'd do next. And as if it was an answer to all questions - and maybe in a very symbolic way it really was- Oliver simply leaned in and kissed her; kissed her with years of vain, barren yearning, with the fatigue of tedious nights lost in thought, with all the embarrassing secret longing for obtaining a part of her small private moments he'd missed at school; kissed her with the three-year-long emotional journey she and the rebels had forced him on.
He caught her bottom lip, nipped it in a way only he was able to: imperatively yet with affectionate tenderness. His arms wrapped fully around her frame, pressing her as close as their bodies would physically allow. His mouth moved against hers, greedy to get closer and claim its stake, just now, just this one time.
He told himself it was nothing but a keepsake – that much he deserved; he'd take it, the token of the memory of her kiss, and proceed on his way. No harm in it at all.
~
Katie had known Oliver was going to kiss her, that he was helpless to refuse her while she stood in the cradle of his arms, so close and with even the briefest of his touches causing her hearts beat to pick up pace. What she hadn't expected was that it would grow to become so heated so quickly, or that before she could pull away to make some silly quip about something or nothing, she'd find herself almost drowning in an urgency she hadn't felt in a very long time.
Not that Katie wanted to rush this. She really had spent time thinking about what being with Oliver would be like, had imagined what kind of lover he'd make (her conclusion being that he probably approached sex much as he did Quidditch- passionately but methodically). She'd even run the scenario through her mind while in bed at night- though the who's of her masturbatory fantasies were numerous and varied and were often people that were firmly off limits in real life.
Oliver had never been off limits, at least not strictly, though Katie couldn't have cared less care right then. She had the taste of him on her lips now and her body was pressed tight along the whole length of his. He was warm and solid and familiar and she was almost certain that if he were to stop her now she'd protest.
"The stove. Turn it off." She groaned, pulling away suddenly and moving to continue undressing. She didn't want to stop, but the thought of a fire blazing through the kitchen was not an arousing one. Still, it would give her some time to rid herself of her ratty old clothes. Katie didn't think Oliver would be judgemental of such things, but she never had been body shy- having a boyfriend who she was very much in tune with had helped with that- and besides, without her jeans, camisole and bra and in only a small pair of yellow knickers and she was sure to get a good idea of what Oliver really thought as he rounded the corner on his return from the kitchen.
~
Fuck. The stove. Oliver groaned again, this time with annoyance. He didn't want this moment to end, because pulling away from Katie would mean this moment would shatter into a million pieces incapable of repair. The kiss, like shattered glass, cut his lips and burned the nerves under the skin, a cocktail of hormones flooding his mind. He felt dizzy with the sudden rush of arousal and the insane circulation of blood, and after pulling away, had to close his eyes again as his sight became blurry. The world, that had come to a halt moments before, was yet to move on. The whoosh of the wind outside was dulled to a low hum, everything went silent around him as they were standing there on the remnants of their old lives.
Oliver stared at her, mouth slightly open with kiss-bruised, throbbing lips and eyes a shade deeper, darker than they usually were.
"Right. The stove." Oliver released Katie, feeling as though the moments his body made were not of his own but executed by an unseen puppet master. Walking to the kitchen and flipping off the stove gave him a moment to try and collect his thoughts. Oliver found it difficult given the painful tightness in his pants. Could he really do this? Take Katie just like that with a few words exchanged, barely minutes spent together before tearing off each other's clothing and crossing a boundary he rarely crossed? Katie moved as though there was no tomorrow, and it almost broke Oliver's heart because that could very well be true for her, and as much as he cared for Katie he didn't want to be a tool that was a means to an end.
... And what about Emilia? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Oliver willed away the guilty squirming in his guts. He had no reason to feel bad: they weren't anything beyond kisses and chaste touching. And yet he just couldn't let her go. Even though the mixed signals something in his mind said that he shouldn't let her go so easily.
Steeling his nerves, Oliver headed back to the sitting room, eager to get to the bottom of Katie's behaviour. Except she stood perfectly nude save for a pair of yellow panties in a pool of her clothing. Oliver felt his heart stop. His eyes, deep, deep blue now, smouldering blue, were alive with unwavering think, dense desire thick dense, and he was short of breath. There was also something predatory in his gait as he advanced on her. His hands sneaked to the back of her head, one slipping to cup the side of her face and he pulled her to his lips with the full force of his passion.
~
Katie groaned against Oliver’s lips, eyes closing against the image of his hungry gaze. It was an expression that suited him. Not just that but the thought that the sight of her, just her and nothing else, that it was the cause of it, it was intoxicating, as good as the feel of him holding her so closely.
Still, she knew there was more. Her whole body was alive and sensitive to the slightest brush of his clothes against her bare skin. Even his hand in her hair, holding her exactly where he wanted her was maddening, and as she pressed back and returned his kiss with as much if not more enthusiasm as he was, she couldn’t help but tug roughly at the hem of his t-shirt, signalling that she wanted it off and now.
~
Oliver pulled back long enough to pull the shirt over his head and tossed it blind off the distance where it settled with a soft flump. Katie's pert breasts pressed into him, sending a jolt of electricity when her nipples brushed over his skin. Oliver's lips explored other areas: peppering soft kisses along her jaw and softly nipping her ear while a hand possessively cupped her breasts. The dark blue eyes opened and peered through the curtain of Katie's hair, scanning the room. He needed something to diminish their height differences. He skimmed past the couch and bookshelf before settling on the dining table and thought how it had the right height, perfect height. Hip height. It looked massive enough to support their weight. The rocking, too.
His hands, solid and strong, wrapped around her in a brace like hold before lifting her up as though she were made of air and relocated them. Upon settling her down, Oliver nudged Katie's legs apart with an impatient knee, his hands free to undo the button of his pants.
~
While Oliver scanned the room Katie took a moment to watch her hands skim over the expanse of his chest. She knew her old friend had gained some muscle since their school days, that playing Professional Quidditch had done wonders for his physique- there was a reason Witch Weekly had him pegged as one of the hottest players in the league after all- but she hadn’t imagined he might look like this. That he’d feel so solid and firm beneath her fingers.
She was about to say something, let some of her thoughts spill out and into the heated air between them, but before she could utter a word he was lifting her up and moving to set her down on the cool flat surface of his dining room table. She gave into his nudge, propping herself up on her forearms as she parted her legs to reveal knickers that were already damp with her arousal.
“The table?” She managed, shooting him a wicked grin and biting down gently on her bottom lip. “Do you have any idea how hot that is?” Katie didn’t want to ruin the moment by talking too much but it had to be said. “I really never would have expected you to be the type... I always imagined-“ She stopped herself and shook her head, eyes falling to his hands and the fly of his trousers, her knee lifting so she could nudge his backside with the heel of her foot.
~
He was uncomfortably hard; so much so Oliver felt nearly animalistic; he hadn't desired someone so strongly in such a long time. Of course, he'd had shags, recent ones too, though they lacked the sense of urgency coursing through his veins and the burning up of every fibre of his being.
Catching sight of Katie's lower lip pulled taut between her teeth created a reaction that was all-consuming, overpowering. The sensation was incredible, threatening to madden him, and he leaned down to catch a nibble himself. "You expected roses on the bed and candles?" He groaned into her lips, not able to contain a moan of passion, letting his pants slide smoothly down his legs and stepping out from them. He could be that person, just not in this moment. Another time, perhaps.
Oliver had imagined this, he didn't deny it now, not once, not twice – his seemingly innocent fantasies that burnt themselves deeper in his cells than he'd ever suspected or was willing to admit. Reality just proved to him again how tenfold intense it could be. It discharged his senses. Not the kiss itself, not even the maddening sensation of her body pressed against his or the way her knee lifted so invitingly, much more the fact per se, the fact that she let him so willingly. That Katie lounged so willingly on his table like an offering. Releasing control of Katie's hair he moved the newly free hand to roughly push her panties to the side.
~
"Well no," Katie spoke softly, her lips curling into a grin against his. "but I've never- not the first time with somebody - and it not be in a bed! Or... a chair or a sofa at least." She amended. And it was the truth. Katie's sex life had been colourful and varied and there had been a couple of occasions where a table had been involved- but never before had anybody dared try anything quite so adventurous with her their first time together.
"It's not a problem." She reassured him, her mouth opening on a moan as his fingers finally came to touch between her legs. Katie couldn't see, but she'd heard the shuffle as he kicked free the last of his clothes and she knew that if she were to sit up she'd be treated with the sight of him, hard and wanting. For her. She didn't move though, instead cupped the side of his face as she pressed another kiss to his lips, this one hungrier and lingering, not at all like the playful nips they'd teased each other with since relocating.
Once they started to get breathless and Katie felt that she couldn’t bear to wait much longer, she broke away, her eyes still closed as she tried to think of a way to tell him that she needed to feel him buried inside her. It shouldn't have been difficult- especially for somebody like her who never usually struggled for words- but it was. Even the taste of him on her lips, his scent thick in the air around them both and his hand between her legs didn’t help, though after a shaky breath she managed a simple lustful ‘please’, her hand drifting down to take his cock into her hand.
...
..
.