[[ lexington, kentucky ]]

[itwasjustified]

[ "how do you feel about wings?" ]

Raylan wipes the last of the grease from his fingers and crumples the paper napkin.

With a lazy toss, he nails the nearby wastebasket.

He reaches for his glass of sweet iced tea, and his eyes slide from what's left of their dinner to Reese.

"Got a verdict yet?"

Comments

[notenlightened]

Soft isn't a word most would use to describe Reese - not in the majority of contexts, at least.

Except for here, when his touch provokes an overwhelming sensation that spirals out from her center, out to the tips of her fingers and toes, and her hand seizes a grip in the longer strands of his hair.

"Raylan," she breathes.

[itwasjustified]

This is the least guarded he's seen her; she's letting him in, literally and figuratively, and he intends to make damn sure he earns the privilege.

His hand travels to her hip, tightening there to pull her even closer, and the pressure of his mouth and tongue increases second by second.

[notenlightened]

In Reese's mind, this is where the true danger lies - of letting someone in, of showing anything close to vulnerability. There's a danger in that weakness.

But now, she can't be bothered to care, as the sensations reach their critical peak and his fingers push (nudge) her into the point of no return.

[itwasjustified]

He encourages her, his mouth and fingers riding out her orgasm, and he doesn't lift his head until she's spent.

Only then does he turn to kiss the inside of her thigh, punctuating the gesture with a careful nip and half a smile.

[notenlightened]

Once her breathing steadies, she looks to him with a near-identical expression, fingers combing his hair back and away from his brow.

"You might have to get used to the idea of payback," Reese tells him.

[itwasjustified]

"Considerin' the context — "

His eyes close when she reaches a particularly sensitive spot on his scalp.

"I think that's a bandwagon I could hop on."

[notenlightened]

Her grip tightens and she tugs, just enough to border on playful.

"Good. Because I'm far from done."

[itwasjustified]

He grunts, the sound low and deep in his chest.

Palms flat on the mattress near her ribs, he hauls himself up her torso, his unbuttoned jeans making him almost painfully aware of every movement.

Smirking down at her, his expression clearly conveys, Is that right?

[notenlightened]

She rises up just enough to kiss him, her hands working down below in a flurry of movement to render them both completely unclothed.

In other words: she needs more skin against her own, and she needs it now.

[itwasjustified]

That gets a groan.

His head falls to the curve of her neck, and he exhales, harsh but not. Blood and skin and brain on fire, he nuzzles her neck, half-heartedly groping for his discarded pants with one hand so he can fish a condom from his wallet.

[notenlightened]

She breathes in, then out, in sharp, quick pants against his cheekbone.

Her teeth graze the shell of his ear and her hand skims down, down and then just a little farther still to feel the hard evidence for herself.

[itwasjustified]

His fingers fist in worn denim.

"Jesus," he hisses, shifting his weight to his elbows while his hips tilt into the welcome touch.

A shaky breath, and his mouth finds her earlobe.

"Do you have any idea what you're capable of, detective?"

[notenlightened]

"I don't know," she replies, her hand working around him in slow, gentle strokes as she mouths at his earlobe.

"This might be the moment where I reach my true potential."

[itwasjustified]

His answering groan hitches, and he thinks about baseball for a quarter of a second, struggling to ground himself.

"Do you really think this is the time for a self-help seminar?"

[notenlightened]

"Point taken."

Her hand releases him, her touch ascending to the contours of his abdomen.

"What is it the right time for?"

[itwasjustified]

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."

[notenlightened]

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."

[itwasjustified]

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."

[notenlightened]

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."

[itwasjustified]

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.

[notenlightened]

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.

[itwasjustified]

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."

[notenlightened]

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.

[itwasjustified]

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.

[notenlightened]

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.