bakerstreet | Can we maybe get this back on the designated one-day-a-week thing?

1, 2, 3, and / or 4.

Jon wakes slowly, bit by bit and that by itself is a luxury enough. He can't remember the last time he hadn't had to make quick work of the process of waking and dressing and starting the day, so things are already quite fine to begin with. It's when the rest of his body starts to respond that the greater excitement begins.

Nearly the whole of the front of his body is pressed against the warm, smooth, slender expanse of the back of Amelia's. Jon's breath is full of the scent of her hair and it seems in the night he's reached over to cup one of her breasts in his hand, which is already beginning to massage it. His whole body is awake now, particularly the morning-hard length which is pressing into the cleft between her thighs.

Jon leans down and kisses Amelia's shoulder, then moves to her neck, recalling last night's lessons of sensitive spots and their roles in bringing a woman to readiness.

In the pleasant haze of the early morning, and Amelia's propensity to be slow to wake, the warmth of Jon's body as it presses to her back doesn't register as real. It's not often that she wakes up with company, after all.

There's a soft pressure as he fits his hand more securely around her, and as he massages and squeezes, she arches her back much like a cat, pushing her all the closer. Almost automatically, she moves to slide a leg between his, already wanting all the more contact, even if she's convinced that she's dreaming.

But then there's the press of lips to her shoulder, and then her neck, and she doesn't quite open her eyes yet, but she reaches back with a hand, brushing fingertips gently over his thigh.

Not a dream.

In the back of Jon's mind is a voice that is trying valiantly to remind him that there is a question that is still waiting to be answered, but it's drowned out by too many other things that he's awakened to. Amelia is there, in his arms, warm and-- if the way she writhes under his touch is any sign-- willing. And more than anything, he's woken up wanting her even more than he had when he fell asleep.

His mind is searching back through all the lessons of the previous night, and he's suddenly glad that he's at last found the one thing of which he's a quick study. Jon's hand leaves her breast and slides down her stomach until it rests between her thighs. He can feel Amelia's flesh warm to his touch, but as his fingers start to move and stroke her, it grows even warmer.

Amelia has not forgotten her promise of an answer to that particular question once the morning had come. At the moment, though, she is barely awake, and both her mind and her body are attuned to Jon's, and what he's making her feel. He is just as warm, and solid, and although they'd ended the night having come together and coupled ... quite a few times, his touches, and his kisses have all but guaranteed that she is, indeed, ready and craving more.

He has proven to be an excellent student, and she is more than pleased to know that she has taught him so well. The soft, disappointed little huff of breath that escapes her lips once he ceases palming her breast quickly turns into a quiet, tiny moan as he then begins strumming at her like she's a finely tuned instrument.

"Jon -"

He's so very pleased by the reactions, now that he knows what he's doing-- or at least, he's got an idea of what to do, and how to tell if he's on the right trail or if he's lost it. When Amelia moans his name, it ripples through his body like a rush of pleasure and Jon can't help but smile.

"Right here," he says softly over her shoulder. "Dreamt of you. So I couldn't help myself once I woke up."

Jon's fingers move just slightly faster as she reacts to it more now that she's rising up out of sleep. And right now, there's a bar of iron pressed against Amelia's rear that he's trying to keep from simply rubbing against her skin to help relieve its need.

He has proven to be quite adept at following directions and instruction both - of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to practice his newfound skills, and far be it from Amelia to deny him such a request. Besides, the morning can't get any better when it begins in satisfaction for the both of them.

He's still there, still with her, and if that wasn't enough to make her heart swell, the knowledge that he's even dreamt of her certainly does it. "I'm glad. I can't imagine a better way in which to wake."

She is not unaware of his ... predicament, and yet, she can't help the teasing sort of way that she pushes just a little bit more fully against him, hoping for a gasp, or to hear that crack in his voice that shows her that he's enjoying what she's doing - after all, she can't do much reciprocation from her current position.

Jon groans when she moves against him. He's woken up stiff before, like any man, but this time is different, because it's accompanied by such hunger for her. He knows that Amelia isn't able to do much more to him than that for the moment, and he has to admit that's a little bit on purpose. It feels good to be the one starting things and holding the reins, so to speak.

That said, he's still a young man laying in bed with his first lover and that hunger is still very much there. And what's more, he can feel the flesh under his fingers growing warm and slick. Jon reaches down and changes his angle until his length is resting all along her cleft, rubbing against Amelia some more.

And even though he can't exactly see the expression on her face, Amelia's lips curve up into a wicked little smile, spurred on to continue rocking her hips against him just because she's already so addicted to the way he sounds when he groans like that.

She might not be able to do much, but she can do that, at least.

The fact that she responds so easily to the touch of his fingers astounds her. Sometimes, with others, she remains bone-dry. But the thought of Jon touching her and she nearly floods, and that's got to be a sign that this was meant to be something greater than just one night together. Each movement has her mewling softly until she finally finds her voice again, as small as it is. "Are you trying to make me beg?"

"Never." Jon chuckles and kisses her on the shoulder again. "But it is sort of nice to know you want it just as bad as I do." It's not that he wants anyone to have the upper hand or to always be the one in charge, but when it's not one-sided, when it's not just the inexperienced boy being humored by the experienced woman.

He knows there's choices here, but he remembers more of the things that Amelia mentioned last night, and wonders if he can surprise her with one. Reaching for her leg, he raises it a bit, then shifts around until his cock presses against her entrance from behind.

With a press of his hips, he's inside her. Jon groans loud and long and happily.

If there's one thing that Amelia has learned from these all too short hours together, it's that when Jon sounds so honest, and open, and earnest, and sweet, it's because he is all of those things, and more. And if she could keep him here, in her bed and in her arms, she would do it, no hesitation. "Of course I do - you are utterly irresistible."

He's been a wonderful student thus far, but the way that he moves her leg like that - the way that he knows what he wants, and doesn't hesitate to go for it does surprise her. She only has a moment to breathe out, and then he's filling her once more, and she hisses out at the little sting of pain as he does.

... It had been a long night, after all, and she is not complaining.

"Oh, Jon, you feel so good - "

If Jon were to be asked about it and was to be honest, then he would have to admit it surprises him, too. Maybe there was just something sleeping inside of him that Amelia found a way to wake up-- hungers and drives that were dormant until the rest of his body caught up and learned about the pleasures those appetites were already built to crave.

Whatever and however it happened, Jon's now a man who wants and wants powerfully, and he is elated to have the object of those wants laying before him. He lets out a groan that sounds suspiciously like a growl as he slides home inside of her.

"So do you... Oh, gods, so do you..." Slowly, he begins to grind his hips against her rear.

And if she were asked, Amelia would be hard-pressed to admit that she doesn't feel a sense of satisfaction, and of pride, and of ... the most absolute sense of happiness that she's really ever felt. It's because of her that he feels this way. What woman wouldn't feel the same if it were her?

Gods, that groan - that growl - sounds a little bit primal and a lot possessive all at once, and if it's his way of showing her that she is his, Amelia isn't about to argue.

She is his, and the way that she responds so eagerly and so willingly is evidence to that fact. And now that they're here, there is no more need to hide who she truly is, and she slides a hand down her body until she's rubbing at her clit, her voice wavering but adamant when she begs him to - "Jon! Just fuck me - please - "

He obeys, eagerly and without hesitation. Jon's movements change from the gentle rolling of a moment before to more deliberate, more energetic pumping. His length slides easily back and forth, and this new position means that each thrust is met with a new part of her surrounding and gripping at him as he goes.

Jon's hand slides back up to clutch at Amelia's breast again. "Such... unladylike language," he teases. "Although I have to say I love the sound of it coming from you."

Because she's beautiful and graceful and Jon's sure that if she wanted, she could pass as the highest-born sort of Lady. Seven hells, for all he knew she was one.

There were times that Amelia craved slow and steady, and there are times that she wants fast and furious - now was the time for the latter. Although she's asked for it, she's still caught jsut a little off-guard, and she gasps out a breath before pressing back against him all the harder. None of this is new for Amelia, but with Jon, each time feels like the first all over again.

"I would s - oh! - so hate to offend you," she manages to reply, her voice dark, and deep with desire. "But I c - can't resist it when I am so sure of what I want."

Perhaps this was something they could discuss at a later time. Right now, though, all she wants to concentrate on is how good it feels as he fills her, again and again.

Jon knows that she's responded to his joke, and even understands the words, but he's already begun slipping past where he can really muster up enough of his mind to reply in kind. The sensations are too strong, the pleasure too heady for that.

As if on instinct, he knows that Amelia wants exactly as she's said, wants him to give in to the great tide of his want for her and just fuck her soundly. So Jon continues to do so, pressing himself hard against her back.

Admittedly, it is very easy to get lost in each other, and she's halfway there herself, wanting nothing more than to concentrate on Jon, and the way his touches, and kisses and how quickly he responds to her all going toward the speed in which she finds herself shuddering and on the verge of begging him for more.

There were times for slow and steady and sweet, and there were times when all she wants is fast and hard and now, and right now was a time for the latter. If they have the time before the knock at the door comes, she'll suggest one more go round, a goodbye, of sorts.

For now, though, she pushes back as hard as he presses forward, knocking the breath out of her body.

Jon's all but happy to surrender himself to the pleasure and the warmth that floods through his body while he's with Amelia, especially now as the hard, fierce intensity of this coupling makes his heart thunder in his head. Soon, he presses his forehead against her skin and begins grunting-- no, not grunting but growling-- even while his lower body pumps again and again.

It isn't long before he can feel they've reached the limit of leverage Jon can have laying on his side. Without a thought, he pushes against the bed until Amelia is beneath him. He didn't know really what he was doing, but his body seemed to-- seemed to understand the power of this position as he drove his hips down against Amelia's rear over and over.

As far as Amelia is concerned, the only two people in the world right now are Jon and herself, and that's all that she wants to concentrate on - enjoying each other, relishing the way their bodies fit together, and the pleasure they so easily bring to each other. And then she's suddenly overcome with too much sensation all at once, not only from the way he's moving against her again and again, but now, the way his hair brushes against sensitive skin, and his breath as it blows out hot and fast, and those growls, which only go toward causing her to moan and whimper in return.

While this is perfectly good, it's all the better when she's urged and turned onto her belly, huffing out a surprised, pleased breath as he follows what his body tells him - he's following his instincts, no prodding needed, and she'd be so happy to know that her lessons have done him well, except it's all she can do to keep from calling out too loudly, alerting the guards that traverse the halls that something might be wrong within the confines of her rooms.

The fact of the matter is - very few things could be better.

If he were still the boy who first arrived in these chambers, Jon would be fearful or appalled at the intensity with which he was fucking Amelia, and with the wild, possessive, animalistic look in his eyes. But he knows enough now to gauge the woman's cries and moans and know that they're nothing but pleasure and want.

Feeling the familiar swell of heat and sensation in the pit of his belly, Jon knows what's approaching, fast and hard.

He leans his head down close to Amelia's ear, pawing back the hair that's fanned wildly out around her head. "Close," he grunts, "so close..."

It can be a scary thing indeed, how easy it is to get lost in emotion and sensation, how easy it is to lose all control - but he must know that if he were doing anything at all that Amelia was uncomfortable with, she would say as much. Truthfully, she is absolutely enjoying the way that he's taking her - almost as if he's laying a claim to her.

She feels him shift, and she moves her head to the side, panting out harsh breaths with each hard thrust. "D - don't hold back. I - I want you to - "

And then, all words are lost as her body quakes underneath his, and she pushes back all the harder in a desperate attempt to help him find his own release.

Though he doesn't know it consciously, laying a claim to Amelia is exactly what his instincts are telling him to do. They're driving him to give her everything he has, to mark her as physically and indelibly as possible as his own. When he feels her start to shudder around him, it's the last push that Jon needs to tumble over the edge. With a loud, growling cry, he explodes inside of her, his rear rising and falling dramatically as he pours himself into Amelia.

Finally, panting for air, his body starts to quiet. It's all Jon can do to hold up enough of his weight to keep from crushing her underneath him. His breath slowly evening, he leans down and kisses Amelia's neck. "Thank you... for everything."

It's in every word that passes between them, in every touch, and every kiss, and every time they've found themselves in this position. It is all but guaranteed that she will remember Jon. It is all but guaranteed that somehow, he's burned himself into the very essence of her soul. No one has ever made her feel the same. No one ever would again.

Her hoarse cry soon turns to panting breaths, and as much as she'd love to turn over so that she can hold Jon close for whatever time they had remaining together, but that would have to wait until he was able to turn, taking her with him.

He says that, and it feels as though she can't breathe for a long moment - she will find her voice eventually, no matter how small. "That sounds like a goodbye."

Jon moves off of her, and lays beside Amelia, where they can actually face one another while speaking. His face is as open and plain as it has been since he arrived, but there is something haunted in his expression, as if he's preparing for something dire.

"No. But whatever your answer is going to be, I wanted to make sure I said that, so you know how I feel about what you've taught me."

He sidles closer to Amelia. "And I think, after all this, you know how I feel about you."

She's slow to turn, sore and satisfied beyond belief, but when she does, no matter how close she gets (which she's come to find is never close enough), she just ... watches. His expression is what pains her the most, because it seems as though he's expecting her to just ... hurt him. And that's the last thing in the world that she ever wants to do.

"It was my absolute honor and a pleasure to have been able to spend the evening with you," she replies, reaching out with a barely steady hand to touch, to feel, to make sure that he's still there with her.

And then she quiets, and she takes a deep breath, and again, she asks - "If I went with you ... what would I be to you?"

That one AU, the next morning, please!

And here we go!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Please forgive my coding fail. :0/

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject