last_adam | (no subject)

Her teeth scrape, just lightly, and she can't help but smile against his neck.

"Do I have to hurt her?" Lifting her head, she looks up at him with bright eyes and playfully sucks on his bottom lip. "Please what...?"

Adam shakes his head, no, no, Alanna needn't bother herself with Elizabeth. Though his thoughts aren't quite that coherent at the moment-

(part of the rush)

and he manages to get out, "I need you."

A brief moment of hesitation, followed by familiar worry and unease, but then it's gone and she kisses him in earnest.

Need. It's such a lovely word, and such a wonderful feeling to be needed, particularly when you need in return.

Taking a shaky breath, she nips his lip and starts pushing his shirt up, sliding her hands across his chest and bending to trail her mouth along the skin she reveals.

"I'm right here," she whispers, finally.

He can't pick her up and carry her to the bed any more (as much out of worry as anything), but he can push and direct and hope, even as he's squirming and moaning, and when he finally gets her there, he actually stops for a moment, and looks her in the eyes, smiling a secret smile.

Flushed, she smiles up at him and feels absurdly shy, aware as always that she's continuously changing. She hasn't felt this awkward in her own skin since she was young and only just pretending to be a boy, but she knows Adam understands.

"How much?" she asks with a knowing smile, but her voice comes out shaky and just a little raspy.

Cool fingers settle at his waist for the moment, and she takes the time to really look at him; it's as much a caress as a touch would be.

"More than the world itself," is his answer, and it's both light-hearted and true. He kisses her once, and frames her cheek with his hand.

"She asked me how it was I could find you attractive, pregnant."

There's a pause, but only the briefest of pauses, as he closes his eyes and kisses her forehead.

"I didn't see how I couldn't."

It's as if he heard her thoughts and concerns, and although she knows Adam could, it's not that. Her eyes well up. She shuts them, concentrating on the quiet sound of his breathing and the way he smells -- the almost maddening scent that makes her want to curl up close and bury her face in his neck at the most inopportune moments.

She rubs her soft cheek against his slightly stubbly one and whispers, "thank you."

She moves back, biting her lip, unsteady fingers undoing her shirt.

"Thank you for telling me that." And her.

"It was important."

Important enough to stop, pause this train that is them, just for a moment, and place his hands softly on her stomach.

"I love you. And you're beautiful."

And then his hands are moving again, and hers, and she is beautiful -- no more so than when she's like this, open and caring and looking just how he knows that nobody else sees her look, and he kisses her, leaning closer and sliding his hands under her shirt, and it's like he hadn't paused at all for how much he wants her.

It's partway off now, her shirt, though his words have as much to do with the sound she makes as the feel of his warm hands against her skin, pushing the rest of the fabric out of his way. So sensitive, Alanna deepens the kiss and pulls him closer, and maybe he can't get quite as close as before, but it's enough to know he would if he could. To know what, exactly, makes closing that distance hard. Hands tracing teasing patterns along his backbone and lower, she smiles and greedily seeks the look in his eyes, so happy with what she sees there, and shifts against him to start in on the rest of his clothes.

(Slowly, despite her uneven breath - and his.)

"M'lucky," she murmurs, mouth open and hot on his shoulder. "Sometimes I think I don't deserve this. But I love you so much. Could never love anyone more."

She feels the truth of her words to her bones and places a kiss just above his heart to seal the promise.

He shakes his head, he shakes.

"M'lucky." And he is, he knows he is, and he tries to show her that now, if ever. He moves against her, against her hands, and she's warm, so warm, and soft and smells like home.

His hand skims down her side and grips her hip through the skirt; Alanna shivers, feeling the telltale goosebumps break out in its wake. She makes a soft sound, almost a gasp, and captures his mouth, pushing him back until they are on their sides, ignoring her own skirt in favor of kicking his pants the rest of the way off and tangling her legs with his. Diving into another kiss, she reverently runs her hands over him, steadily stroking lower, and doesn't even bother to disguise the hitch in her breath or the way her hands shake.

When her eyes find his again, the disbelief lingers, the sheer giddiness that he's here with her after everything she has said and done in the past. She smiles, and there's something heartbreakingly sweet about the way her voice breaks when she says,

"You're perfect," and she knows he's not, no one is, but he's perfect for her in every way that counts.

He shakes his head again, but he doesn't say anything, because what do you say to that? Instead he kisses her, and it's everything that he'd said and more, because there are some things that words can't describe.

Like the curve of her hip, and the way his hand fits there, or the feel of her skin against his lips as he kisses her shoulder, or the sound she makes when he scrapes his teeth lightly against her.

Or the way he just belongs, when they're laying here like this, the way that he knows everything will be okay because he's got her.

Alanna nods stubbornly, even if she has temporarily forgotten why she's being so insistent. Nothing matters but this, and them, and she leans forward, her hand mimicking his and settling on his hip. She squeezes lightly and brushes her thumb across his hip bone, and then lets her fingers dance along his lower abdomen. It's worth reining in her own eagerness to hear and feel his response.

"I need you, too," she tells him, sliding her legs against his and moving up and in to trail kisses down his neck and along his collarbone, teeth scraping and tongue laving the red spots left behind.

He nods, and he tries to say I know but when he opens his mouth, there aren't any words to follow. He works her skirt down, hands on skin and hot, it's so hot, and he leans forward, resting his head on her shoulder. There's something like I love you, then, and then there's only her, her touch, her smell, her sounds.

Watching, Alanna bites her lip and whimpers. Oh, how she wants that heat, craves it, and moans when there isn't anything else separating them and it feels a bit like a fire burning out of control. She has to laugh at her own thoughts, but there's no other way she could describe it: hot, like lightning streaking through her system, leaving her reaching for more. Both of her arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him close, so close, so she can feel his breath on her neck and turn her head to kiss where she can and say the same, fiercely, making sure he knows. And then she's touching him again, smiling that smile that only he ever gets to see.

Adam can't much help himself -- but then, he never could. Or maybe he never even tried, because why try when Alanna's laying here with him, making that low whimpering sound and running her hands along his back. And then he's there, and it's like every time, and it's like no other time, and it's this bright and new thing that's been the past few months because this, them --

this is their future.

And his breath catches a bit at that as he leans in to kiss her again, and again, and he holds her soft, dear, as he does so.

Her hands clutch at his hips, nails biting in small little half circles, and then release, because as sharp as this feeling might be, Alanna wants it to last. They know this is ephemeral, and somehow the knowledge that she won't be able to do this much longer makes it that much more intense.

Closing her eyes, she focuses on-

(heat, pleasure, need)

-him, and the way he moves with her, and tears her mouth away to utter a cry that's more air than sound. Another sound escapes, and she breathes in his ear, "turn over," already curling one leg up around him.

Adam swallows, eyes opening to look at her, confused, and contrary to his stubborn nature, he turns over, though he does so slowly.

Very slowly - they both do, acutely sensitive to every movement and brush of skin. Alanna's heart races, as she settles down, and she's soon lowering her weight to her hands just above his shoulders and smiling in satisfaction.

"I can get closer," she whispers and licks her lip, watching her hair fall forward. "Does that tickle?"

Swallowing, she moves before she even realizes what she's doing, just a little.

He nods, because it does, but he doesn't move, because it still feels good. Her hair against his skin, so sensitive, and his eyes fall shut as he swallows.

"Is it-

Are you-"

He doesn't finish any thoughts out loud, and who knows if they're finished in his head, because looking up at her like this, any rational thought that was left has fled for higher ground.

"Adam, do you have any idea," Alanna manages, "how good, how-"

Reaching for one of his hands and twining her fingers through his, she moves, rocking with him, and moans at the heat.

"-much."

The rest is lost as she squeezes his hand and stares hungrily at his mouth.

His hips move, he jerks up, and he groans out loud-

GOD

and she might as well be for all he's worshiping her.

Her head falls back as she sits up, bringing his hand and clutching at his hips with fingers and strong legs. She can't kiss him like this, so she keeps her eyes on his and kisses his fingers instead, nipping and pulling one into her mouth to stifle a moan that only seems more noticeable for it.

She can't help smiling, cheeks flushed and hair tangled. Eyes widening when he moves like that, Alanna shakes and follows, driving them both higher until she's breathing fast and biting her lip, then kissing another finger.

Part of her wants to wait, to hold on to this moment -- to Adam -- for all that she's worth, but that part is being quickly overruled.

"A- Adam."

He runs a thumb along her lips, moaning out loud as she pulls it in, hot and warm and wet around him and he moves his arms, pulling is hands back, reaching, grabbing, looking for anything, pulling her back down, groaning with frustration when she doesn't make it.

"I-

I-"

What he is never said, because everything after that is gibberish, grabbing and writhing and moving and moaning, and then nothing but heat and light and Alanna, and his breath slows as he falls back to the bed, the world swimming around him.

His voice and ragged breathing shatter whatever control she has left. She watches him, eyes shining, wanting to be closer but loving the look in his eyes. Moving on and around him one last time, she whimpers and cries out.

Somehow, though she's not sure when or even which one of them moved, she opens her eyes and looks into his. His head is beside hers on the pillow, and his breath has evened out, whereas she still breathes like she ran around the lake. The bright light and foggy feeling clears a little -- enough for a small, wobbly smile -- and bizarrely she feels a little sad. But only a little.