She thinks about all the times in the past few weeks she has almost begged him to give in with her. She thinks about that last time on the Knoll, his hand over hers, how she had wanted him in her so badly it left her feeling weak in the knees.
She scrapes her lower teeth against his skin with a soft, keening sound. Now? It has to have been ten minutes by now.
She wondered how these last few seconds would go. They put such a clear time expectation together, but she knows how impatient they both are when they're together. She knows how long thirty seconds can feel.
But she lasted three weeks and she can last thirty seconds more, no matter how badly she wants to pull him up against this locked door.
At the two second mark, his hand darts from the wood to the handle. In another breath, the watch hits the floor.
Sweeney sweeps her up in his arms, his mouth devouring hers like a man parched from walking 40 days in the desert. He nudges the door open and swings them inside, only to promptly kick it shut with a sharp snap of his boot.
The smell of nature is overwhelming once the door opens. The reason is immediately obvious.
It’s not a hill, more of a slope that’s wedged into the corner of the room where the shared wall between their cabins meets the far wall. The patch of canvas beneath it is about 15’ square, and is mostly covered, though the corner towards the center of the room is a bit bare. Chunks of soil have strayed off onto the carpet along the sides.
The rolls of sod haven’t completely taken, but the extra days had allowed him the ability to get some roots in, and there’s a patch at least equivalent to a full-size bed running up to the corner. Stray pots-worth of flowers are speckled along the sides and clearly more recently added.
The moment he kissed her she was sure she'd be too absorbed in him to notice if the whole ship was on fire.
Instead the moment they're inside and she can smell green, growing things and fresh soil, she audibly gasps. She still has her arms around him but she's looking at the cabin and she's all but glowing.
"Oh my God, this is for me?" She takes his hand, keeping him with her while she investigates each flower pot, favoring each petal with a gentle brush of her fingers. She looks up at him in awe and bends to touch the grass. Every speck of soil in this is perfect.
His body stutters at the sudden change of direction, aching for her warmth and her want to be back against him.
But he knows it's worth it. Every ache, every day. Every bit of time lugging and building.
"Aye," he breathes, his throat dry. Sweeney tries repeatedly to swallow to fix it. Nevertheless, he's able to keep up with her, letting her tug him along when all he wants is to get to the next bit. He can feel the heat of his skin radiating.
The fact he even has to ask has her on her toes, kissing him the way she has stopped herself from doing all these weeks, her whole body against his. But it's more than that too: it's gratitude and all the primal things he stirs in her, and it's the sense that he worked for weeks just for this, for her.
"Yes," she whispers, meaning it was worth every minute. "Fuck, I want you so bad-"
He meets her lips hungrily, his hands darting about as they try to pull at her every way at once. Burying in her hair, tugging at her hips. Abandoning one at a time to try to shuck off his jacket and over-shirt without parting from her.
They both know she doesn't need to have her dress off for this, so she focuses on stripping him down first. It's his skin she's been wanting to touch all this time, anyway, and as he sheds each layer she is greedily trying to get the next layer off.
She struggles with one of the buttons on his trousers and muffles a frustrated sound against his mouth. "Hang on-" Breaking the kiss and then, coy as anything, dropping to her knees to sort out those damned buttons.
The sudden absence of her in his arms confuses his body, and his hands chase after her. When his mind catches up, he tries to yank off his tank without thinking about the braces. Soon enough he's wrestling free of them to accomplish the task. Sweeney instinctively slips one of them back on while she's working his buttons loose.
He's doing everything he can to not stagger in the fervor of the moment.
She ends up accidentally tearing that stubborn button loose, thinks for a half-second it will need to be sewn back on, but then she's taking him into her mouth the way she had wanted on that boat. She makes a low sound, looking up at him as she does, equally playful and fond.
His knee buckles at the sensation of her mouth, and he's forced to catch himself on her shoulder. Her gaze is met with one of wanting and pleading and the threat of taking.
That's how he is in the moment, a swirl of needs all clamoring to be sated at once. There's only one thing that comes through crystal clear, and there's no need to mouth the words; it's captured in every line of his expression.
She pulls back slow and rises to her feet, smiling impishly at him. "I'm wearing too much," she purrs, and turns away, looking over her shoulder at him. "Unzip me?"
Sweeney's grateful for the reprieve. He swallows as she turns, trying to get his bearings.
"Fuck no," he answers, his voice husky.
“I ain’t gonna fuck ya ‘til I have ya.”
He nudges the back of her knee with his, urging her both forward and onto her knees on the slope of the grass. The act is hurried, but not demanding. He's not trying to force her down, no matter how much he wants to.
He's met with a breathy laugh as she slips down easily. There's a soft weight in her gaze as she peers up at him, and her hand reaches for him and sets on his hip, needing contact with him as if it might ensure nothing gets between them.
He isn't sure what he would have done if she'd argued it. Luckily, he doesn't have to ponder it.
There’s an electric urgency to his hands, and they fly to the neckline of the back of her dress. The seam taken between both hands, he grips and pulls in repeated sharp motions, ripping the dress open and exposing her back. There had been intent; it was one reason he’d asked her to wear white, to give him that skin to help her shed. Now she’s a black sheep, always just a bit outside. In the moment though, that symbolism isn’t active in his mind.
Once he has it open to her waist, he curls in so he can run his tongue up her spine in one long stroke. His hands wriggle under the rest of the fabric as he eagerly seeks the warmth of her. When confident enough of positioning, one hand darts up to catch her by the jaw, shoving her head away to expose the soft skin of her throat.
He’d wanted this since that day in the shower. The image played through in his mind so many times, it’s practically imprinted as a memory before it's even happened. As such, he doesn’t need any time to calculate placement.
His mouth finds her, his teeth sink hard and tight. There’s a fleeting moment before he pulls back as he thrusts in.
Sweet. Holy. Fuck.
It’d been worth it. Every ache and squirm and frustrated breath. Having her now, in this one act, it was worth it.
Then there’s only primal want. His bite is unyielding. Just because he can’t readily break the skin doesn’t mean it won’t look like he did. When the skin’s pulled back as far as it will allow, he holds it a moment longer before releasing her, his thrusts never slowing.
The pain is hot and searing and so good it makes her cry out in a ragged, choked moan. She can feel it bruising before he even lets go, and she isn't sure she isn't bleeding. She hopes she is, she wants this to last.
The moment he lets go she kisses him, biting his lower lip like she has so many times before. Then it had been about raw passion. This time there's intent behind it, and behind her nails cutting into his back, a ferocity that she never feels without him stoking it in her, a ferocity that is always bent toward the needs of her pack.
It's just that this month has reminded her that she can want something just for herself. He doesn't need her or her protection. He wants her for no reason except he cares about her, and it frees them to be what they are right now.
He's heady from the lack of blood left in the upper half of him. Sweeney fights to keep focus, knowing what he should be doing and trying to care enough to make it happen.
It's so hard, so counterintuitive, to pull his hand from her hip. He musters what will he can to shove it into the grass. Sweeney slides off of her, immediately hating himself for the cool air of her absence, but he's already yanking at her as he rolls onto his back, trying to get her up on him.
He had claimed; it's time for him to give. To show her she's Alpha, earned and honored. Sweeney knows she likes being on top, and he's prepared to yield that control to her want.
Edited (Word change) Date: 2021-12-19 05:45 am (UTC)
She barely gives him time to settle on his back before she's straddling him, driving down onto him. She takes his hands and puts them on her hips; she likes being on top but she also has grown to love the way he holds her.
She prefers being on top because it gives her an easy escape if she needs it. But she doesn't need that escape with him, which is why this change in roles hits her the way he intends: as a way of claiming him, as a way of him showing that she can. Looking down at him, here in what he built specifically for her, breathing in clean air, she shudders with release but only hesitates long enough to ride it through before she rolls them again to let him take her.
Just because she's on top doesn't mean he's passive. Her shoves down at met and answered, his fingers cruelly digging into her hips. He both seeks to hold on in anchor and to pull her down on him in eagerness. Flashes of wicked grins ride through his expression, oscillating with the clenching of his jaw and the creasing of his brow. He practically yelps when she tightens around him, and his hands jump to her lower back, clawing at her to will her just a little deeper.
Sweeney's surprised by her urging him above her. That in no way means he's complaining. He'd wanted this, but assumed he'd need to wait until later in the night. If he were of a clearer mind, he could see the importance of it, but now, it's only a path to getting what he wants.
His kisses are hungry things, hot and plentifully given. One hand catches high up her thigh under the remnants of her skirt, encouraging her to wrap her leg around him. Not that he's going to push the issue; as soon as the request is made, the same hand is in her hair, trying to urge her up so he lick her throat and bite her shoulder.
With a sharp breath, he forces his head to the side, eyes shut, baring the length of his neck to her while he nips at her other shoulder, working to nudge the fabric away to find skin.
Through all of it, his pace doesn't slow. No matter if he's taking or being taken, there is always wanton having.
She lifts her head to bite at his shoulder, biting down harder when this makes the angle change and he's suddenly, blessedly deeper. She brings one leg up, ankle on his shoulder, to tighten around him and allow him deeper still.
This still allows her to kiss him, which she does between gasps and soft cries, and lingering eye contact that makes this all so much headier.
Of course he knows how limber she is, how her build and skills would allow for such a thing. But it's very different when it's put into practice. Sweeney would say she'd been holding out on him, but in the end, maybe the universe was just saving it for tonight.
He snarls against her skin at her biting, a faint whimper on its tail, before another growl chases behind.
The sweet pain and the hot ache and the terrible burden of prolonged wanting converge in a perfect moment, and he presses a sharp cry against her skin, burying her face in the crest of his hair.
Everything twitches and trembles as he fights against collapsing completely upon her. Even so, he only manages by the prop of his elbows against the grass. He fights for breath, panting in the curve of her neck, his lips rested on her shoulder as he sucks in the scent of her hair.
She strokes the hair at the nape of his neck as she tries to catch her breath. She can feel grass under her back, there's a pleasant stretch in her calf from having her leg up on his shoulder, and she doesn't want him to go anywhere just yet.
"That was worth every time we almost and didn't," she whispers, grinning against his shoulder.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 03:32 am (UTC)She scrapes her lower teeth against his skin with a soft, keening sound. Now? It has to have been ten minutes by now.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 03:39 am (UTC)They can do this.
They can do this.
The sensation of her teeth forces his eyes open, and his gaze fixes on the watch.
Fuck. How the fuck is there still a fucking minute left?
Sweeney makes it another ten seconds, then yields a whimper.
"Please," he whispers with pleading desperation.
"Just...just hold yer hands on my hips. Wait with me."
Because otherwise he's not going to make it.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 03:45 am (UTC)"What's the count?" Barely above a whisper. They're so close together she could just about mouth the words and still be heard.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 03:49 am (UTC)"Thirty seconds," he whispers, promptly swallowing again. He forces a slow blink to let his eyes linger on the watch's hand.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 03:59 am (UTC)But she lasted three weeks and she can last thirty seconds more, no matter how badly she wants to pull him up against this locked door.
Five, four, she pleads with the watch to hurry.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:04 am (UTC)Sweeney sweeps her up in his arms, his mouth devouring hers like a man parched from walking 40 days in the desert. He nudges the door open and swings them inside, only to promptly kick it shut with a sharp snap of his boot.
The smell of nature is overwhelming once the door opens. The reason is immediately obvious.
It’s not a hill, more of a slope that’s wedged into the corner of the room where the shared wall between their cabins meets the far wall. The patch of canvas beneath it is about 15’ square, and is mostly covered, though the corner towards the center of the room is a bit bare. Chunks of soil have strayed off onto the carpet along the sides.
The rolls of sod haven’t completely taken, but the extra days had allowed him the ability to get some roots in, and there’s a patch at least equivalent to a full-size bed running up to the corner. Stray pots-worth of flowers are speckled along the sides and clearly more recently added.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:09 am (UTC)Instead the moment they're inside and she can smell green, growing things and fresh soil, she audibly gasps. She still has her arms around him but she's looking at the cabin and she's all but glowing.
"Oh my God, this is for me?" She takes his hand, keeping him with her while she investigates each flower pot, favoring each petal with a gentle brush of her fingers. She looks up at him in awe and bends to touch the grass. Every speck of soil in this is perfect.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:15 am (UTC)But he knows it's worth it. Every ache, every day. Every bit of time lugging and building.
"Aye," he breathes, his throat dry. Sweeney tries repeatedly to swallow to fix it. Nevertheless, he's able to keep up with her, letting her tug him along when all he wants is to get to the next bit. He can feel the heat of his skin radiating.
"Was it worth it?"
He so sincerely hopes it was.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:22 am (UTC)The fact he even has to ask has her on her toes, kissing him the way she has stopped herself from doing all these weeks, her whole body against his. But it's more than that too: it's gratitude and all the primal things he stirs in her, and it's the sense that he worked for weeks just for this, for her.
"Yes," she whispers, meaning it was worth every minute. "Fuck, I want you so bad-"
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:29 am (UTC)He meets her lips hungrily, his hands darting about as they try to pull at her every way at once. Burying in her hair, tugging at her hips. Abandoning one at a time to try to shuck off his jacket and over-shirt without parting from her.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:33 am (UTC)She struggles with one of the buttons on his trousers and muffles a frustrated sound against his mouth. "Hang on-" Breaking the kiss and then, coy as anything, dropping to her knees to sort out those damned buttons.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:42 am (UTC)He's doing everything he can to not stagger in the fervor of the moment.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:51 am (UTC)That's how he is in the moment, a swirl of needs all clamoring to be sated at once. There's only one thing that comes through crystal clear, and there's no need to mouth the words; it's captured in every line of his expression.
Don't do this too long.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 05:00 am (UTC)"Fuck no," he answers, his voice husky.
“I ain’t gonna fuck ya ‘til I have ya.”
He nudges the back of her knee with his, urging her both forward and onto her knees on the slope of the grass. The act is hurried, but not demanding. He's not trying to force her down, no matter how much he wants to.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 05:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 05:08 am (UTC)He isn't sure what he would have done if she'd argued it. Luckily, he doesn't have to ponder it.
There’s an electric urgency to his hands, and they fly to the neckline of the back of her dress. The seam taken between both hands, he grips and pulls in repeated sharp motions, ripping the dress open and exposing her back. There had been intent; it was one reason he’d asked her to wear white, to give him that skin to help her shed. Now she’s a black sheep, always just a bit outside. In the moment though, that symbolism isn’t active in his mind.
Once he has it open to her waist, he curls in so he can run his tongue up her spine in one long stroke. His hands wriggle under the rest of the fabric as he eagerly seeks the warmth of her. When confident enough of positioning, one hand darts up to catch her by the jaw, shoving her head away to expose the soft skin of her throat.
He’d wanted this since that day in the shower. The image played through in his mind so many times, it’s practically imprinted as a memory before it's even happened. As such, he doesn’t need any time to calculate placement.
His mouth finds her, his teeth sink hard and tight. There’s a fleeting moment before he pulls back as he thrusts in.
Sweet. Holy. Fuck.
It’d been worth it. Every ache and squirm and frustrated breath. Having her now, in this one act, it was worth it.
Then there’s only primal want. His bite is unyielding. Just because he can’t readily break the skin doesn’t mean it won’t look like he did. When the skin’s pulled back as far as it will allow, he holds it a moment longer before releasing her, his thrusts never slowing.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 05:16 am (UTC)The moment he lets go she kisses him, biting his lower lip like she has so many times before. Then it had been about raw passion. This time there's intent behind it, and behind her nails cutting into his back, a ferocity that she never feels without him stoking it in her, a ferocity that is always bent toward the needs of her pack.
It's just that this month has reminded her that she can want something just for herself. He doesn't need her or her protection. He wants her for no reason except he cares about her, and it frees them to be what they are right now.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 05:27 am (UTC)It's so hard, so counterintuitive, to pull his hand from her hip. He musters what will he can to shove it into the grass. Sweeney slides off of her, immediately hating himself for the cool air of her absence, but he's already yanking at her as he rolls onto his back, trying to get her up on him.
He had claimed; it's time for him to give. To show her she's Alpha, earned and honored. Sweeney knows she likes being on top, and he's prepared to yield that control to her want.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 02:29 pm (UTC)She prefers being on top because it gives her an easy escape if she needs it. But she doesn't need that escape with him, which is why this change in roles hits her the way he intends: as a way of claiming him, as a way of him showing that she can. Looking down at him, here in what he built specifically for her, breathing in clean air, she shudders with release but only hesitates long enough to ride it through before she rolls them again to let him take her.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 04:29 pm (UTC)Sweeney's surprised by her urging him above her. That in no way means he's complaining. He'd wanted this, but assumed he'd need to wait until later in the night. If he were of a clearer mind, he could see the importance of it, but now, it's only a path to getting what he wants.
His kisses are hungry things, hot and plentifully given. One hand catches high up her thigh under the remnants of her skirt, encouraging her to wrap her leg around him. Not that he's going to push the issue; as soon as the request is made, the same hand is in her hair, trying to urge her up so he lick her throat and bite her shoulder.
With a sharp breath, he forces his head to the side, eyes shut, baring the length of his neck to her while he nips at her other shoulder, working to nudge the fabric away to find skin.
Through all of it, his pace doesn't slow. No matter if he's taking or being taken, there is always wanton having.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 09:02 pm (UTC)This still allows her to kiss him, which she does between gasps and soft cries, and lingering eye contact that makes this all so much headier.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 09:22 pm (UTC)Of course he knows how limber she is, how her build and skills would allow for such a thing. But it's very different when it's put into practice. Sweeney would say she'd been holding out on him, but in the end, maybe the universe was just saving it for tonight.
He snarls against her skin at her biting, a faint whimper on its tail, before another growl chases behind.
The sweet pain and the hot ache and the terrible burden of prolonged wanting converge in a perfect moment, and he presses a sharp cry against her skin, burying her face in the crest of his hair.
Everything twitches and trembles as he fights against collapsing completely upon her. Even so, he only manages by the prop of his elbows against the grass. He fights for breath, panting in the curve of her neck, his lips rested on her shoulder as he sucks in the scent of her hair.
So. Fucking. Worth. It.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-19 10:14 pm (UTC)"That was worth every time we almost and didn't," she whispers, grinning against his shoulder.
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