itwasjustified | [[ lexington, kentucky ]]

Another exhale, one that's equal parts relief and disappointment, and he rolls to one side.

Fumbling for his battered wallet, he retrieves the foil packet tucked inside.

"Honestly," he says, eyes dark but voice graveled and earnest, "anything you want."

She seizes the opportunity while he's on his side - and rolls over to straddle him, bracing herself on his chest.

Her dark hair spills over her shoulders as she gazes down at him.

"This."

His eyes meet hers, and he wonders if she knows how knock-down beautiful she is.

But any hope of voicing the question gets lost in translation; she's on top of him, skin sliding against skin, and her hands are like twin coals on his chest, bright and branding.

He nods faintly.

"We can do this."

Her eyes are dark and full of want, her body surging down into his with a deliberately teasing roll of her hips.

"Good."

The need in her is obvious in the rhythm she's struggling not to start before they're ready.

"Because I don't - I can't wait."

He opens the packet and rolls the condom on, only half-conscious of the actions; his focus is on Dani (Jesus, Dani).

"You sound like you're waitin' for me to complain," he says, mostly teasing — but there's a part of him that's worried she just might be.

She's barely aware of anything else - anything that's outside of him and the slide of their skin.

"Are you going to?"

Her lips graze his jaw when she smirks.

He swallows with obvious effort; his hands skim up her bare back, following the curve of her spine to her nape.

"I most certainly ain't."

There's a slight second of fumbling (it's been a while, for her, as much as she likes to deny, deny, deny) but then she's easing down onto him, and the joining literally rips a moan from her throat, her fingernails dragging across his chest.

"Good," she sighs.

His fingers thread deep into her hair; he grits his teeth so hard he swears he hears enamel crack.

(Or he would swear to it, if he could concentrate on anything but her.)

He doesn't have a lot of leverage, but he lifts his hips, attempting to give as good as he's getting.

Assuming this position means she gets to set the pace - which she really doesn't take issue with.

It's more muscle memory than anything; once she adjusts, it's easy to remember how to do this, to draw out even the tiniest feeling with a grind, or a swirl.

His hands slide to her hips, more of an anchor than a guide.

When she moves just so, his grip tightens briefly as his eyes roll shut, and he can't hold back a groan.

One hand splays low (lower) on her stomach; his thumb slips between her legs to brush her clit.

She's in no hurry to rush this - or anything else, though originally she'd even balked at the idea of taking a real vacation.

This, however, is worth slowing down, worth moving deliberately over him to watch the expressions shift and change on his features, to feel his heartbeat quicken under her palm.

Her lips hover over his, touching but not quite kissing, and she gasps at his touch, helpless even above him.

He's alive beneath her, rocking in tandem, heart hammering a staccato beat under her hand, his breathing ragged.

His free hand never stops moving, touching and stroking her skin and hair, her breasts and ribs, the small of her back.

He manages her name, voice tight and raspy, lips grazing hers.

Her cry is strangled and lost in the gasps she takes for air, reduced to rocking erratically over him as they both hover at the precipice.

His hands feel as though they're leaving fire in her wake; she looks down and half-expects to see his prints burned into her skin, and still, somehow, she can't get enough.

She descends to him, sliding up and down his body, her breath hot and harsh against his jaw.

He doesn't have half a hope to maintain any veneer of control, not now.

With a groan, one hand tangles in her hair, keeping her close, while his thumb circles her clit.

"Dani," he says through clenched teeth, the syllables thick with desperation. "Jesus Christ — "

He's barely balanced on a razor's edge, trying his damnedest to send her over before he loses himself.

She doesn't utter anything resembling a name; she's well past the point of being able to think it, much less say it.

Her thighs tighten around his hips in a sweaty-sticky vice, and she digs in and stops, just for a second, before the world explodes into tiny sunbursts in her vision and she's reduced to nothing but uncontrolled tremors.

Something between a grunt and a hiss leaves his mouth; he comes hard, hips jerking beneath her.

His thumb keeps circling, drawing out her orgasm, and he turns his head just enough to meet her lips with his.

She can't speak, can't move, can't do anything aside from breathe and try to let her heart slow down to a more normal pace.

Reese rests her head against his shoulder, fingers tracing the half-moon marks on his skin left by her earlier, watching them fade.

He eases away his hand, palm sliding along the flat plane of her sweat-damp stomach and rounding the curve of her hip.

As his own breathing levels out, he wraps both arms around her in a loose embrace; one hand strokes down and up her spine in a slow, steady motion.

Her eyelids droop lazily, though she's by no means tired - just relaxed, laying here in the aftermath with him, their limbs partially tangled together, the reassuring back-and-forth motion of his hand leaving post-climactic goosebumps on her back.

"It did, you know," she murmurs, dwelling back on his earlier words.

"Go where I wanted it to."

Eyes closed, he exhales, soft and slow; he's half-smiling to himself as he nuzzles her hair.

"That's good news," he says, laconic as can be. "I was waitin' for you to drop-kick me."

"Give me a minute or five," she teases, her thumb running over the curve of his bicep.

"Maybe I can still make that happen."

"It'd serve me right for givin' you ideas."

His fingertips draw light figure-eights over the small of her back.

"You've given me plenty already."

She tilts her head to press a kiss to his neck.

He hums at the contact.

"I knew you were a dangerous woman."

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