bakerstreet | And the women... All shades of skin-white, black, cinnamon.

And the women... All shades of skin-white, black, cinnamon.

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[ His hands in her hair, each tug, only fuels the ache settling low in her belly. Every groan, every time he helplessly jerks, her resolve cracks a little more. It's everything, to have him vulnerable beneath her, to know that with her he's unguarded, more himself than with anyone else. She is too with him, she's free in a way she never will be if she loses him, she knows it.

There's a span of three heartbeats when he looks at her, when he does finally plead, and it makes everything she had planned to drag this out, completely fall away. The way he looks at her makes Claire shiver, and she doesn't have it in her to tease him, not anymore, not when he looks and sounds the way he does. With one more soft kiss to the tip of his cock, she shifts carefully over him, one hand still wrapped around the base, her thumb still lightly stroking. With her eyes still on his, she makes sure he knows first: ] I mean it. Don't ever forget.

[ With one hand resting on his chest, her unfocused gaze holds his as she drags herself against him, teasing with the hot warmth of her body first before finally guiding him inside. She's slow and deliberate, making herself whimper until she's finally settled with him buried in her, unable to move for a handful of seconds or she's afraid it will be over too soon for them both. Once she can breathe though, both hands rest against his chest, beginning to ride him slowly. ]

This is what you wanted? [ As if she didn't, as if she hasn't been aching for him just as badly. ]

[ Those three heartbeats seem to stretch out, as if it's ages; then she finally shifts in response, and he takes in a shaky breath at those next few deliberate touches. His nerves feel practically frayed, and on top of the anticipation that's buzzing sharply throughout his body there is the some unnamed, achingly tender emotion mixed in when she speaks. His eyes remain locked on hers as he breathes out -] I won't. [ A promise; he knows it would be impossible to forget her words, to forget this particular moment, no matter what the future holds.

His eyes wander down her body, raking over every inch with unabashed lust as he clasps the hand she presses against his chest to steady herself. He can barely take it when she drags herself against his cock, letting out another desperate, impatient sound as his hips jut upward. When she sinks down onto him, and he's finally buried deep in her heat he shudders, letting out a low groan of satisfaction and relief - this is what he's wanted more than anything. ]

Yes. God, yes. [ It's a good thing she's starting off with slow movements, he has no intention of this ending too quickly for either of them. His hands wander her body once more, and it's only so long before the desire to have his mouth on her skin takes over and he lifts up from the bed, bracing his uninjured arm behind him while the other wraps around her. His lips drag along her pulse point first, kissing, licking, nipping; and eventually trailing along her collarbones and down to her breasts, tongue tracing across a nipple while his free hand lowers to grip her backside, pulling her closer with each slow glide. He's sure there'll be marks left behind from his fingertips, as well as his mouth. ]

[ His hands feel like fire against her skin, each stroke of calloused fingertips causing a reaction. She's pink from her red cheeks to the flush across her chest and down her abdomen. Her hips continue to roll, and she knows when she's ready, she only has to adjust herself a small, small fraction of an amount before his pelvis manages to rock against nerves that are already close to their breaking point.

When his mouth enters the fray, one hand pushes into his hair, her moans loud and mingling with the sound of heartbeat slamming in her ears. She has to look at him, her eyes open but glassy and dark with desire. There's something else too, something that would give him all of herself, if he asked. When she looks at him and she can see the soft edges of him, the way he looks at her in return, something in her cracks and breaks in a good way; to be seen by him in this moment is a memory she'll hold onto forever, when she needs to close her eyes and be anywhere else.

His tongue across a nipple makes her hips jerk out of their slow rhythm, and the way he grips her makes her want more, to give in and let this be over. Curls stick to her neck where she's beginning to sweat, and she tries to kiss him, too breathless to do anything but breathe the same air as him. ]

More. [ Claire whimpers the word, and it very well could be her begging before she adds: ] Ask me for more. [ She's trembling in his arms, and her muscles around his cock pulse as she lets out a moan against his mouth. One arm is around his shoulders, but she's still only moving as fast as he is, which is so slow she's leaving half-moon marks in his good shoulder with her nails, trying to hold on. ]

[ Her moans and her hand in his hair encourage him, his tongue continuing to trace along her nipple - teeth scraping light against the raised bud. The nights when he's unable to sleep, weeks away from returning to her he often tries to conjure these sense memories while he takes himself in hand. But no matter how hard he tries to recall the sound of her when they're together like this - every moan, every gasp; his memory never does it justice.

He feels her shift slightly, and eagerly lifts his head to meet her kiss; an almost bruising and feverish intensity to it - in direct contrast to the slow rocking pace of their hips together. Sweat mingles between their bodies, and the flush that spreads across her skin is so very appealing; his gaze shifts between her eyes and every so often wandering the details of her body - wanting to take everything in. ]

Give me more, Claire. [ His voice is a rasp against her mouth, his arm wrapping tight around her. There's a muffled groan against her lips when he feels her pulse around his cock and he's certain he's about to topple straight over the edge, but manages to hold off. His jaw tightens, his eyes squeeze shut a moment with the effort of it. When he finds her gaze again, there's urgency and something almost possessive in the way he looks up at her. ] I want all of you. Now, [ it's sharper, almost a command but for the fact it's followed with another - ] please. Don't hold back. Come for me.

[ It doesn't feel like the second round. When he'd pinned her against the bed the moment she'd gotten done tending to his wound it was just as eagerly, just as passionate as now. But there is something different to this time, something unspoken between them. His focus narrows to the singular, intense desire of making her come, of fucking her through it. Resting, then starting all over again, as many times as she'll have him. ]

[ As soon as he commands her, Claire can't help herself in any way. She lets herself go and her other arm locks around the back of his neck as she rides him hard and fast, tilting her hips down and crying out her pleasure as her eyes slam closed. She sees colors behind her eyes and gasps his name. ] Daario I'm—

[ She can't even finish the sentence, her body snaps against his and she goes still for a fraction of a second before everything explodes, body pulling him in, tightening around him and contracting as his name tumbles out of her like a plea. Each gasp and moan, every whimper falls against his mouth, all of it, attached with her hope. She doesn't want to lose him, she wants to keep him, she wants him to want to keep her.

Her forehead presses to his, one hand still in his hair. She isn't aware of what she's saying, babble coming out of her mouth as she winds up begging him to come with her, telling him that she needs him until she's panting too hard for anything else. ]

[ When she starts to ride him like that he loses every last shred of control, his arm tightening around her, mouth uttering filthy bits of praise and encouragement as she comes; wanting to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her body, all the while he's pumping his hips upward, chasing after his own release as he feels his abdomen go taut.

The feel of her clenching around his cock, along with her almost incoherently urging for him come, telling him that she needs him - all of it, it's more than he can bear. His thrusts fall out of rhythm, faster and faster until his hips begin to stutter and he's spilling himself inside her with a loud moan. He clutches her, arm wrapped tight around her body, skin to skin as he keeps himself buried deep inside her through every last tremor that passes through him.

Still panting, he eventually lifts his head from where he'd buried it in her neck; their foreheads resting together as his eyes are still shut. It takes a few moments more before his muscles begin to gradually relax, and he lets out a shaky sigh. His heart is still pounding in his chest, and he thinks he can feel hers as well with how tightly their bodies are pressed together. After another moment he tightens his arm again and guides her body back down to the mattress. Laying side by side facing each other, he reaches out to tuck some of her curls behind her ear, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to her lips before he collapses onto his back; pulling her close against his side as he does so. ] I might have... ruined your work... [ The words come out slow, in between breaths, a hint of humor to his otherwise contented tone as he glances at his injured shoulder. It didn't look too terrible but he'd definitely messed up the bandage. Oops. ]

It'll keep. [ He adds, preemptively, to make sure she stays right where she is for now. ]

Edited 2024-08-20 02:01 (UTC)

[ Claire doesn't know how to let him go as her body shakes against his, but her grip slowly loosens and she feels her breathing begin to even out. She lets him move her any way he pleases, whimpering softly as lingering pleasure makes her shiver. She doesn't feel aware of anything at all until she feels him push curls behind her ear, and then she kisses him back lazily until he collapses.

It's good that he tells her his shoulder is fine for now, because she's ready to get up, to take care of him. But this is better, this is so much better. She does give him a look, though, before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly in satisfaction. ] I'll take care of you. I always do. [ She always will, her expression says for her. Her fingers reach out to brush through his hair, gently this time, brushing it back. She takes in his features, the lines of his face and the shape of his eyes, letting her fingers move from his hair down his cheek until she's holding his face in one hand. A hundred things cross her mind to say, and all that she can think is that she loves him, which is too dangerous, so she doesn't dare. ]

It will almost be a shame to sleep when we're drowsy again and waste time.

[ She doesn't want to waste a single second with him, not if she can help it, not by sleeping. ]

You're too good to me. [ He smiles, the statement a marker of appreciation rather than any real protest. He's grateful for help, for her care; always has been.

He watches her quietly studying him, her eyes seeming to say so many things all at once; but none of which he can truly be certain of. There's a weight to how she looks at him that he hasn't seen before, and he can't help but feel a strange sort of dread almost; like the outside world and the circumstances they're both avoiding will somehow burst through the door and catch up to them all at once.

It's a silly dread, he tells himself internally. Irrational. No one knows he's here, and no one knows she's here either. The door is locked. It's a busy tavern filled with people too drunk to notice who comes and goes. He's never been worried like that before, in their previous nights spent together. So why is he now? That unnamed emotion creeps back in, and in an effort to bring it into the light, it eludes him.

He places his hand over hers, holding it against his face for a moment, looking at her with fondness, tenderness. That touch chases away the strange feeling from earlier, as do her words. ]

Perhaps we should stay awake all night. [ His hand traces down the side of her body, from shoulder down to rest at her hip. ] Make the neighbors deeply regret renting a room next door. [ A teasing grin as he leans forward, brushing his nose against hers, followed by another kiss. ]

[ He makes her laugh, then shiver before kissing him, closing her eyes against every anxiety that wants to take root. She knows eventually either she's going to ask, or he's going to tell her exactly how much time they'll be apart, and she'll either still be engaged, or wed and caged. One day he'll return, and she'll belong to someone else, and she wonders how long she could possibly live miserably.

It's difficult for her to keep her worries out of her expression, so though she laughs with him, and even though she tries to be witty, her eyes are already sad to anyone who knows how to look at her, to see beyond her smile. ] Or they could be entertained for all we know.

[ She does laugh, she is happy too, if both feelings can exist at once. They're dancing around it, both of them, in a way they haven't before. She can only think it's because things are becoming more real, people from far away are beginning to make travel arrangements, and they can't pretend it's some distant date anymore. And still, she's afraid to speak of it aloud with Daario, to acknowledge what they both believe to be true: they can't be together, not really. ]

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And the women... All shades of skin-white, black, cinnamon.

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