Caspian X (
the_seafarer) wrote in
milliways_bar2006-01-10 09:33 pm
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As much as Caspian likes being out in the stables, there's a limit to how long you can spend working on your boat or grooming the horses or repairing tack before it becomes truly mind-numbing.
Besides, he needs some supper.
He seats himself at Bar, after brushing the hay from his shirt.
He may be ordering tea.
Besides, he needs some supper.
He seats himself at Bar, after brushing the hay from his shirt.
He may be ordering tea.
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And it's a little bit of a twinge when he shifts, but all she wants is to pull him closer, even though she doesn't know how to do that any more than he is.
This doesn't stop her from trying.
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And moves, carefully.
He wonders how he could have thought she was close enough when she was merely sitting next to him before, or when they were lying together, because he wants to be closer still.
So he moves, slowly, lifting his head with an effort from her shoulder to rest his forehead against hers, his eyes dark.
Closer.
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It's very slow when she presses her hips up against his, eyes wide and unblinking still. And each movement still feels odd, but she's having a very hard time focusing on that when it feels so many other things, too.
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He's not sure he'll ever be able to let her go.
"Is this--" his voice is rough and low and shaking, "is it all--all right? Are you--"
He trails off. Impossible to speak when he's feeling so many things. Impossible to tell what he's feeling, except want and need and good.
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"Sorry--I know it--it hurts, at first. Try to relax."
He's trying to be careful. To be gentle.
But it's getting more and more difficult.
"Trying to go slow." A shaky, breathy laugh. "You feel--you're amazing."
And then he can't speak, because he's concentrating on moving and keeping it slow and waves of heat are sliding up his back.
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Which is really hard, because each time he moves her breath catches, but her arms start to untense after a few moments anyway, and when her eyes open she just looks at him and kisses him again between groans.
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Her arms are loosening around his neck, and that's good that she's relaxing, so now it is almost a dance.
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She's forgotten to be scared, and smiles a little, shakily, when she lifts her mouth to force a breath.
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It's hard to remember to be careful, and slow, when Lucy has just been looking at him like that. And it feels too good to not want more.
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It's slow, and careful, and Lucy can't imagine how it can get better after this.
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But he doesn't have to say what it is. He can show her, the way he promised to.
She's relaxing in his arms, and so he goes closer, deeper, loves her. Loves how when he moves, her arms tighten around him, the sounds she bites back. Gives and takes and gives back again, his hand warm over her skin.
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It's not like anything she thought, not really, and she wonders if she can just hold him forever and never let go as she presses her hips up harder and kisses him again.
Lucy doesn't think she's ever going to be capable of actual words again.
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Her mouth is hot on his skin and he turns his head to kiss her, harder, almost pulling her up as his arm curls under her and his hand slides up behind her shoulder, his palm warm, holding her tightly.
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She thinks he was right when he said it was one of the best feelings in the world, and thinks it wouldn't be nearly as nice if it was anyone else here with her but him, and then stops thinking entirely and just moves against him and with him.
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this is how
and everything else is starting to fracture, a little bit, the edges of his vision foggy.
I love you
Her head falls back and he moves his mouth over her throat, tasting the salty sweetness of skin.
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Her hand's at his neck, just holding, because it's the most she can manage, and it's perfect and warm and she gives a soft cry against his hair, and even if someone else might be able to hear she wouldn't care.
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And he still thinks she tastes better than any wine, any water.
Shaking, his hand slides down her side to her hip, lifting her slightly, and his movements aren't so smooth anymore, not so gentle, because it's getting harder and harder to hold back.
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"Please," a little choked as she kisses him once, twice, three times, still moving, still wishing she could get closer, and she presses her forehead up against his.
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More.
They're moving together, and breath comes ragged, and eyes goes dark. Her hair is a spill of gold over the covers and she's everything he's ever wanted. And more.
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And she really can't speak now, but the most coherent thing in her mind is just, Love, with more and closer very close behind.
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But this...
He never felt, before, like this--like he wants to melt into her and that even skin to skin and wrapped around each other and tangles of legs and arms and movement like waves is not enough.
But it's close.
More, and faster, now, and he can't tell if the heart skidding crazily against his chest is his or hers, and if the breath he takes, shuddering, his from her mouth or his. It doesn't matter.
"God, Lucy," comes rough from deep in his throat without his even knowing he'd said it at all, and he drops his head to taste the pulse fluttering in her throat, searching for the sensitive spots that make her arms clench around him, feeling her on the edge even as lights flash slowly on the inside of his eyelids.
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Never never never knew.
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goes white and
fractures.
And then he holds her, trembling, his breath coming shuddering agains ther neck before he has the energy to raise his head and press a shaky kiss to her mouth, and tries a smile.
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And it's a very long moment before she breathes, "Th--thank you," voice shaking, and just looks up at him.
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