"Claire, sweetheart…"

She ignores him.

He tries to talk again, but she gives one good, hard lick on the underside of his cock, from base to tip, and takes him into her mouth. He closes his eyes, he's shaking all over, she sucks him, and when he opens his eyes again she's staring at him, her baby blue eyes stealing the last remaining piece of sanity he had left.

"I want to touch you," he says, "C'mon, untie me."

She breaks eye contact.

Hollows her cheeks, sucks harder.

He pulls on the piece of clothing that is binding his wrists to the bed.

"Claire…"

He doesn't know, but she thinks his voice is lovely, soothing, and when he moans and calls her name like that, her heart beats faster and she feels a chill running down her spine.

He's handsome, ridiculously so, and she dares to think that he is hers, maybe just as much as she is his. He's such a good boy, a good hero. Such a gentleman.

Even when he's rough, when he's inside her, inside her mouth.

And oh, she's not ashamed to admit how much she loves his cock. He's big, thick and circumcised. She could suck on his cock all day. Hell, she could make herself come just by thinking about it.

"Claire, please…" he says again, and she wants to smile but she's too busy right now. "Sweetheart, please, let me touch you…"

She works his cock one last time, one good suck, real fucking good before letting him go.

He groans.

She licks her bottom lip, and straddles him.

For a moment, one tiny moment, she's scared out of her mind. He's looking at her like she's the most precious thing in the world, he's loving her and she's loving him right back.

Smiling, she leans in and kisses his neck, leaves a trail of soft kisses all the way to his jaw, finds his lips and he tells her he needs to touch her right before the big kiss.

"You need to?" she asks once they break apart.

He nods.

She drags her lips across his skin, and that's all they are, skin to skin. Her right hand behind her back, she finds his cock, hard and aching and she strokes him, watches all the changes on his face—-from the way he tries not to choke to the way he pulls on the piece of clothing again.

Then she whispers, "maybe I should just ride you like this."

He smiles, perfect white teeth showing.

"Please…"

"Please what?"

"Untie me."

"So you can have your way with me?"

"Yes."

"Will you leave a bruise this time?"

"You want one?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Then untie me."

She shakes her head, her left hand on his neck as she brings her right one back, away from his cock. He watches as she touches herself, watches as she throws her head back and her hair, long and red, hangs from her shoulders and she's a living poem, she's driving him mad and she opens her mouth, ready to scream as she rubs her clit, and then she slowly leans back in, kisses him again and stops touching herself.

She brings her fingers to his lips then, traces the pretty lines they form and he catches her index finger with his teeth, a playful bite that turns into sucking and they have long passed the time when the action would amaze them both, when they'd look at each other and think about what they were doing, about how he was sucking her fingers, about how he was tasting her. When she let him finish in her mouth and swallowed his come for the first time, he couldn't stop touching her, couldn't stop admiring and adoring her.

And he still admires and adores her but it's part of them now, it's what they do, it's how they understand each other.

It's stability, control. It's walking side by side and holding hands and laughing at silly jokes.

It really is love.

Without saying a word, she unties him and has no time to even breathe before she's lying on her back. He licks the palm of his right hand, slicks her up but she's already so wet there's no need to. He smirks at her, and she gasps when he takes her, guides himself in with a hard thrust.

He leans over her, her breasts against his chest bouncing with every movement, every thrust, his hands sometimes on her hips, sometimes on her legs, most of the time on her neck. Her red tainted cheeks making her look obscenely adorable, and he knows they won't last long. She's already breathing too fast, clenching around him, pleading and moaning and losing herself.

"You made me beg," he tells her. "Made me beg to fuck you."

"Oh," she starts, but arches her back a bit more, screams a bit louder. "You loved it."

He gives her a small laugh, but doesn't say anything, choosing to close his eyes for a moment and rest his head on the crook of her neck.

She knows he's close.

She comes first, though, when he bites her neck hard enough to bruise and stills his hips, giving her a minute before moving again, before pounding into her and fucking her the way she deserves to be fucked.

Hard and fast and good.

Then he comes, and she swears it's the most beautiful thing, she swears he's the most beautiful human being in the entire planet, and he lifts her up from the mattress, she's on his lap and throwing her arms around his neck as he holds her tight, buries his head on her shoulder, cries a silent cry.

He's trembling all over, filling her up, and she's taking it with a smile and a peaceful heart.

When he comes down from the haze, he plants a kiss on her shoulder, one on her neck, one on her cheek and then one on her lips.

"I love you," he says.

She kisses him back.

"I know," she tells him.

written for a friend of mine. you can find her on tumblr under the username 'painfullysober'.

gotta say, had fun writing this one.