Lay Here With Me

M for Adult Content

Edited: 12/21/2014

He doesn't remember how exactly he ended up in this position.

One of his arms is curved around her while the other is trapped underneath her. She is not heavy by any means, but his arm has begun to lose feeling. He grits his teeth and concentrates on the way the light slides across her bare shoulder, the way her hair spills across his chest, the way she sighs into him without restraint.

She falls asleep, sometimes with him still buried in her, and he is left awake to lay there, wrapped around her body, letting the cool night air sweep over them both.

He likes this.

It is not something he would admit in the light of day. He would throw himself off Hoover Dam before he dared permit anybody to know. Even she does not talk about it, though the way she looks at him in the morning makes him turn away.

Every night he commands himself to roll away, slide off the bed, and leave her wrapped in the sheets alone. And every night he finds himself reaching towards her. A part of him detests her for his weakness.

Another part of him is desperate for her. He craves the way her body fits against his, the way she curls her fingers between his longer ones, the taste of her skin as he presses his lips to her neck.

He knows every inch of her.

But this. This. Holding her in the dark as she sleeps makes him tremble. It is like nothing he has ever known. He can hardly recall his life before the Legion, his childhood in one of the various warring tribes of Utah. His back bears the scars of training and battle. They have healed in jagged lines, crisscrossing his skin.

Nobody has ever slept next to him. Nobody has enveloped themselves around him and held him.

He does not need sympathy or compassion. It was his choice to join Caesar, one he made proudly.

But it does not mean the feel of her hands on his skin do not make him shudder. She traces the scars carefully, sometimes with her fingers, sometimes with her tongue.

In the hazy hours of the morning he often cannot figure out where he begins and she ends. Their limbs are tangled together; her body is pressed into his and her head tucked underneath his chin.

He knows the exact moment she wakes and he can already feel himself grow heavy.

His palm finds the base of her spine, tracing up the vertebra. She stretches slightly, pressing her bottom into him. He mutters something incoherent and slides his hand to her hip, not sure if he should pull her tighter against him or push her away.

Instead he leans forward, pressing his nose in her hair and breathing her in.

He moves lower after a moment, his tongue finds the edge of her earlobe before exploring the soft patch of skin behind her ear and sucking softly. His hand slides forward, across her rib cage to cup her breast. He palms it gently, letting his fingers play with tan skin of her nipple. He wants to flip her over so that he can replace his hand with his mouth.

She moans softly and Vulpes closes his eyes and it takes a full minute for him to regain his slipping control.

His fingers move to trail down her stomach and tangle in the curls between her legs. He pulls lightly and her hips buck forward. She is already wet. He can feel it, smell it. He taps his finger against her clit before dipping inside her. She whimpers and one of her hands finds his wrist, his finger sliding deeper as she grinds against him.

She mutters something that sounds like his name and he bites her shoulder gently. His thumb, moving slowly up to the tiny nub that he knows will send her over the edge, rubs lightly at first, feeling her grow swollen and drenched.

Then his fingers move quicker and his thumb presses harder, and suddenly she is trembling, her body going tight in his arms and he can feel the spasms overtake her as she shudders and gasps in the morning light.

He hardly pauses before he spreads her thighs with own leg and presses into her. They are still pressed back to front, an arm still buried painfully underneath her, but he forgets everything the moment his cock finds her entrance. Her outer lips close over the tip of him, teasing him gently.

It is almost impossible not to drive his way in completely.

Instead he pushes in with agonizing slowness, feeling every inch of her. He rolls his hips experimentally, and she pushes back into him. It is like this for an agonizing minute, shallow pumps that do nothing except make his stomach clench with anticipation. One arm wraps around her, just underneath her breasts, pulling her up farther up against his chest. The change in position makes him groan low into her shoulder.

Her hand finds his hip and she digs her fingers into him while her leg hooks around his, opening herself wider for him. He hums in approval and thrusts into her harder, flexing his hips against the softness of her bottom. She throws her head back into his chest, mumbling his name into his throat.

His hand is fumbling for her jaw, turning her face towards his. His lips find hers in a wet open mouthed kiss and she grabs his tongue with her teeth, pulling it into her mouth and sucking on it. He grounds his hips into her again, pushing into her again and again and again.

And then she is clenching around him so tightly that he can hardly breathe.

She is whimpering now, clutching at him desperately. He can feel himself reaching that precipice, and it only takes one more thrust before he has hurdled over the edge. He explodes into her, and continues to slam into her until he is completely spent.

For a long moment all that can be heard in the small room are their gasping breaths. She moves to pull herself from him and, before he can stop himself, he wraps his fingers around her hip dragging her back towards him.

Stay.

It is the first time he has ever spoken the word aloud. She turns to look at him, and he ignores the smile that breaks across her face. Something strange bursts in his stomach as he presses his face into the crook of her neck.