Author: ballynihinch
Rating: R
Feedback: It’s like chocolate covered in peanut butter…yummy! ballynihinch@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: Not mine. Theirs.
Spoilers: Nothing major
Author’s Note: This is a five-part series of little ficlets. Enormous thanks go to my beta, Christine, for helping me beat this into something resembling a fic. You’re the best, darling!! :)
SOUND
It was dark.
She couldn’t see a thing.
The clock on the bedside table was still not working. Its day-glo red numbers had winked out long ago.
There was only the darkness.
The street lamp outside the apartment was broken. The snow continued to fall, heavy and thick. It would be a good night to steal a car, she thought. No witnesses. Even footprints would be covered over in a matter of minutes.
She wished she was out in the country somewhere, able to look up at the inky-black sky and see thousands upon thousands of stars. The stars were always brighter away from the city, and maybe it wasn’t snowing as badly a hundred miles away.
A line from the President’s favourite movie came to mind: “What eyes the wise men must have had to see a new one among so many.” Or something like that.
She put her hand out in front of her, but she couldn’t see it. It *had* to be dark if she couldn’t see alabaster skin. He’d made a comment earlier that she might glow in the dark. Guess she’d proved him wrong, now.
Turning, she focused on him, even though she couldn’t see him. He was breathing softly to her left. It wasn’t quite a snore, but it was more than a snuffle. It was cute. He’d screech if he heard her say that, but it was true. *He* was cute. And manly. And sexy. And hot. And brilliant. And so goddamn arrogant she wanted to hit him most of the time.
Maybe she should start doing that more often. When she had slapped him earlier in the night it certainly had had an interesting effect. It had led them straight back here, more or less.
It hadn’t been the actual slap that had frightened her. It had been the sound. It was a rude, cracking stillness that made her mouth fall open and her palm sting. It had seemed like such a loud noise for such a little thing.
Whatever woman had first invented the open-palm slap had come up with a real winner.
She had heard rather than seen his quick intake of breath after she’d belted him. He’d deserved it – he must have known that as soon as the words had come out of his mouth – but it was hearing that hot gasp that had made her throw herself against him the next second.
Then his arms were around her and his breathing wasn’t gasping; rather, it came in ragged pants. It had been harsh and filled her ears with wanting.
She wanted him.
Then she told him exactly that.
And he’d heard her.
The winter storm had knocked out the power sometime during their first encounter. It had already been dark in the room, but with the power off, they’d had to rely on things other than sight. Of course, she already knew his body, so that really wasn’t a problem.
What she hadn’t known were the little sounds he made while making love: the moan when she traced his length with her tongue and a tight, wet fist; the soft sigh when their mouths came together, tender and rough and passion-filled and far beyond content; the sexy grunt he made when he entered her – she’d almost come from that alone, not to mention the feel of him inside of her at last.
Then he’d started talking. He said little things, things that might sound crazy at any other time or place, but that had made her heart turn over in her chest as they lay together among the tangled sheets.
And then it had gotten *good* between them. The first time had been unforgettable, but the second time around made things deeper, hotter, harder…
He’d struck some chord within her, something primal and passionate and uncontrollable. She had no idea what she’d been like, but he must have liked it. She thought she might have screamed at some point – ‘crying out’ just didn’t seem a strong enough description.
She couldn’t remember, but he’d heard her and answered in turn. She had the bite marks on her neck to prove it.
After hours of making love, she had liked hearing him sleep. It had been cute.
But now she wanted to hear more.
Slipping against his nakedness, she pressed up close to him, skin on skin, and breathed hotly against his ear.
“I want you,” she whispered.
As his hands came up to bracket her hips, she knew he’d been listening.