| Subject: Heat Wave 7 |
Author:
'chelle
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Date Posted: 10:27:50 01/05/02 Sat
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Heat Wave" on 10:01:34 01/05/02 Sat
Note: WMS... yes again.
Chapter Seven
He touched her. Touched her like it was the first time, with reverence and a hushed admiration. He traced her lines and curves with his fingers, his mouth, his eyes. Cupping, caressing, memorizing. The late afternoon sun washed over them, draping them in a hazy bronze color. His eyes followed his fingers as they explored the valleys and hills of her body. Watched as the skin reacted to his touch, his breath - how it rippled, contracted, shivered. He could feel her heat; feel her vibrating under his hands. Her hips moved in an ancient search, and a low moan hummed in her throat.
Her breathing was deep and rhythmic, as if she were trying to breath in his very essence. Her body was alive with feeling; her senses whirled at each soothing touch. He would bring her to the very edge of ultimate pleasure, only to slowly, exquisitely, bring her back, and start again.
The back of his hand rubbed against her cheek, feeling it's satiny smoothness, leaning in close, his mouth almost touching her, he whispered, "Do you trust me?"
"Yes…"
He moved to her open mouth and covered it with his, devouring it with eager thrusts of his tongue. Keeping his mouth to hers, he carefully moved her to her back, arranging her on the floor so that she was comfortable. Breaking his contact with her, he stood to take off his trousers. She opened her eyes to watch him, watching him move was like reading poetry. The muscles of his chest and stomach undulated as he moved. Soon he was naked once again, her hands tingled to touch him, taste him. He stood there, looking at her, touching her with his intense gaze. She reached up a hand for him, drawing him back close to her, where he belonged.
"Close your eyes…" he bushed his hand over her eyes, and Nikita let them close, giving herself over to the sensations. Her breath caught as his hips settled against hers and she felt the thick ridge of his sex. His arousal was so familiar, and unbearably seductive. The lure of his sexuality had always pulled at her, now her body cried out for him.
He felt the surge of desire in her, saw it mirrored almost instantly in her face. One moment she had a serene look on her face, the next she was shivering in carnal excitement, her body tense as she moved against him in a subtle demand. He cursed, his voice thick, as he tried to fight his own response. It was a losing battle, he wanted her.
His hand moved to the open bag beside him, he dipped his head down, taking one taut nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Pulling away, he touched her with the object in his hand. Her intake of breath was swift and deep. Her eyes flew open and locked with his, then traveled down to the ice cube he held in his hand.
"Michael!"
His slow, sexy smile curled up one side of his face and he lowered his head again and lapped up the drop of ice water on her breast. "Shhhh"
Taking the melting ice cube, he drew slow circles around one puckered nipple, following it with hot puffs of air. Nikita started arching her body in time with the strokes of the ice.
Michael switched his attention to the other breast, wetting the nipple with his mouth before replacing it with the cold ice cube. The icy water began rolling down her sides, and Michael licked at the trails. The ice was almost gone, so he slipped the sliver into his mouth and bent again to her. This time to her stomach, the combination of his hot mouth and the cold ice was almost her undoing.
"Michael… please…” Her hands moved to wrap themselves in his hair, pulling him up to her. The relief of being in his arms again was almost painful. "Michael..." She pulled at him, raising his head to her hers. She stared at him, trying to relay the intense need she had for him. "Don't hold back from me now... I need you too much."
He searched her eyes, looking for the truth, searching for the depth of her need, finally seeing that it matched his own. With a savage groan he positioned himself above her, his penetration was hard and stabbing, and she cried out at the force of it. Her hips arched, accepting, taking him deeper. A guttural sound vibrated in his wide chest, then he caught the backs of her thighs, pulling her legs higher, and he began thrusting hard and fast.
She loved it. She reveled in it. She sobbed aloud at the strong release that pulsed through her almost immediately, the staggering physical response that she always knew with this man.
Blinded by the ferocity of his own need, Michael anchored her writhing hips with his big hands and pounded into her. Dazedly she became aware of the hard floor beneath her, bruising her shoulders, but even as her senses were recovering from their sensual battering and allowing her to take stock of her surroundings, he gripped her even harder and convulsed. Instinctively she held him, cradling him with arms and legs, and the gentle clasp of her inner warmth. His harsh strained breathing subsided to low, rhythmic breaths, his heavy weight pressing her to the floor.
The silence in the huge, dim lobby was broken only by the erratic intake and release of their breathing. His slowing heartbeat thudded heavily against her breasts, and their heated bodies melded together everywhere that bare flesh touched bare flesh. She felt the moisture of sweat, and the inner wetness that teased at her.
"Nikita?"
She didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to let this go just yet, didn't want to have to let him go, and that was something reality would force her to do.
He lifted himself on his elbows, and she could feel the penetrating gaze on her face, but still she clung to the safety of her closed eyes.
She felt his muscles gathering, and briefly she tried to hold him, but he lifted himself away from her, and she caught her breath at the slow withdrawal that separated his body from hers. The friction set off a lingering thrill of sensation, and her hips lifted in a small, uncontrollable, telltale movement. She opened her eyes and silently met his gaze. That curious, sleepy blankness of sexual satisfaction was on his face, as she knew it must be on hers as well. But in his eyes was a predatory watchfulness, as if he knew his prey had been caught but not vanquished.
He moved with her so that she was resting on his chest, her head pressed close, listening to his heart beat.
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