Aftereffects

[Trillian]

His hands roamed her back, her sides, then the side of her breasts before his thumbs swiped her nipples. He left her mouth to go to one of them, lips and teeth toying with the sensitive nubs upon her breasts, his other hand gently swirling around the breast left unattended. He moved to pay attention to the other, swapping hand and breast while gently pushing for her to lay upon her back.

He had plans to move lower once she did.

[The Cedar Witch]

The subdued snarl, released at the parting of their lips, was replaced by a quiet breathy moan when his mouth sought her nipple.  His mouth and hands felt hot on her skin, and her focus shifted between his heartbeat and the attention to her breasts.  She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the pressure from him guiding her.  With a small unseen smile, she laid back and propped herself up on her elbows.

Slightly flushed, she watched him with an expectant gaze.

[Trillian]

His hands worked to unfasten her jeans while he kissed a path down to her navel, swirling his tongue around it before moving further down when her zipper was lowered. He kept the jeans on for a short moment, teasing himself by disallowing access to her and only kissing and nuzzling with his face through the gap before he started tugging them down. He left her when they gathered at her knees, so he could remove all obstacles to her nudity; heels, jeans, underwear... whatever they were, they were gone, gently, softly, with anticipation.

Returning his attention between her thighs he nuzzled a path back to her, teasing with his tongue at the crease of her thighs, then at the crease of her centre, kissing and gradually nuzzling his way in, exploring deeper and enveloped by the heady musk of her feminine scent. It wasn't long before he was toying with the most sensitive nub within her, pressing his tongue before swiping it and then holding it firm with his lips, rubbing, hoping to drive her mad while he held her hips in place with his hands.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna kept her thoughts firmly away from any attempts to piece together when she had last allowed someone the pleasure of worshiping her body.  Flashes of things flitted through her mind, but she was pulled back to the present with each attentive touch.  There was the promise of returning to a kind of normalcy here, like chasing the lost fragments of herself in wanton looks and discarded clothing.  A hollow feeling threatened to overshadow everything like a steadily rising tide.  She couldn't put down the notion that if he knew her better he would sense this.  It was easy enough to hide things like this from a stranger--but why did any of that matter anyway? 

There was only this and it was what she wanted.
Her clothing on the floor.
His face between her thighs.
Blood-heat radiating from him, enveloping her senses.

The heat.  Yes, she could anchor to that.

Her hips bucked lightly against his hold while his mouth worked on her.  She made small breathy or restrained noises, holding back out of habit but she couldn't say why.  Things fall apart when you look at them too closely--that was a new lesson she had learned.  Best to avoid questioning altogether or the world would dissolve before her very eyes.  Whatever was left of it, anyway.

A build had begun within her core like a tingling heat and her hands grasped his hair again, pulling him closer as she writhed against his face.  There were a few moments where she drew close to release when the movements of his lips and tongue found the key pattern, only to lose it.  The tease was as delightful as it was frustrating; but still, she was pursued by memories half-awakened.  If she could only outrun it chasing warm distractions and following the steps to this well-known dance.

It could have been impatience that had her moving away from his mouth, wordlessly urging him to join her.  When he followed, nearly-frantic hands pulled him closer to her, between her legs.  Her fingers worked at the fastenings of his jeans, nails lightly running over his hips.  She could bury her fingertips into his flesh if she wanted to, and feel the warmth of blood run over her hands.  That would be a pleasant distraction, though temporary with the potential for undesired consequences.

Suddenly she stopped, eyes falling on his tattoo.  With an expressionless face, her hand moved to it, fingers briefly tracing the lines.  A dangerously familiar motion.  There was a pulling-aching sensation that she buried as soon as it bloomed.

Why this?

Her hand fell back to the jeans, a safer place, and nudged them down as she moved closer.

[Trillian]

He followed her manoeuvres and gestures like a well-trained pup. He was in tune with her enough to pause when she investigated his tattoo.

"My spirit animal," he said, not indicating in any way that he was joking or being sarcastic. He'd always been drawn to them, liking their spiritual meaning as well as the fact they garnered respect from every culture around the globe. Everything about them spoke to him in a way no other creature on this world did. It was only natural to him, with that kind of fascination, to mark himself with their image.

His clothing went next and soon after he was plunging into her, working with her towards unified release. His hand moved between them to rub fingers against her clitoris, wanting to make her experience a grand one. He couldn't get enough of her mouth, lips and tongue. Tasting her and tasting her, knowing she was tasting herself on him. It only compounded his hunger for her. He would've liked for her to swallow him whole.

And it felt like she did when he finally came, after a few changes of position. They'd ended up with them laying on their sides and him behind her, all the better for him to enhance the sex for her with his hand (without being squashed or digging uncomfortable knuckles into her belly. It was an explosion that removed all sensory input except where their bodies connected.

Once it was over and as he grew limp, he hoped he'd pleased her.

[The Cedar Witch]

Several times during their fucking she entertained the idea of tossing control completely out the window.  He was impossibly hot inside of her, and even though she had quite enough for the evening she wanted nothing more than to drain him completely.  But Anna didn't want to dispose of this one--at least not yet.  If she hadn't been so well fed the impulse would have been much more difficult to ignore.  Somewhere during their kissing, she nipped at his lip and scored a coppery mouthful to satiate her desire.  He tasted so much sweeter than before, and it was almost distracting enough to chase away the other thoughts.

Almost.

In the back of her mind, she felt her actions were more mechanical than passionate, but she buried the feeling and continued forward.  What did any of that matter when she was so very sure that she wanted him?  The shift of position gave her the opportunity to guide his hand, grinding against it, controlling the speed and pressure as she wanted.  Approaching her own release, a wave of possessiveness overtook her.  She decided that he was hers now--to drink or fuck as she wanted.  Reaching up to grip at the hair at the back of his head, she pulled his mouth toward her bare shoulder.

Forgotten memories rode the wave of her climax.
Flashing lights.  Dancing at Risk.  Hands at her waist, standing at the edge of her deck looking out at the sea.

There was a half-choked moan in her release, followed by a needlessly held breath.  She was scarcely aware of the sensations between them, thrust suddenly in a dissociative state.  The tremor in her hand over his could've been mistaken easily for post-orgasmic quivering but it had nothing to do with that.  She gripped his hand to steady her own, focusing intensely on relaxing her shoulders because she had gone suddenly (noticeably) tense.  Had this happened with Marco, as he was so insistent on, she undoubtedly would've killed him.

Quickly.  Quickly, now, before its noticed, before you ruin everything.

After a short moment passed, Anna pulled away to turn over and face him, expression now a controlled mask of satiated lust.  She exhaled a sigh, something indicating that a need was satisfied, her smile suggesting that yes--he had pleased her.  Lazily she draped her free arm around him, still feeling that possessiveness.

"Cigarette?"  She suggested, her eyes flickering to the tattoo again before moving to meet his.

[Trillian]

He murmured agreement and shifted a little away from her to reach for his bedside table where a crumpled cigarette pack was. He grabbed it and carelessly pushed the drawer shut where it didn't quite close before turning back to her, pack in hand. Flicking it open there was everything they needed inside; a disposable lighter and seven little nails standing straight. He shook the pack so that a few cigarettes were poking up, easy for her to pluck one out.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna placed a cigarette between her lips and took the lighter, igniting the tip before returning it to the pack.  She then turned so she was on her back next to him.  Her mind was still as if suspended in dark water, expression guarded behind a surface mask of relaxation.  Smoke drifted lazily through her nostrils with a slow exhale and she watched it curl toward the ceiling.  Somewhere she felt that the evening was pleasant and interesting enough to want to see him again.  If it weren't for the fucking memories seeping in.  Perhaps when she was more acclimated to being awake and around other people she'd call on him.  Whether or not he felt the same did not even cross her mind--that was something she took for granted.

A quiet moment passed before she turned toward him again, propping herself up on her elbow.  Her eyes searched the bedside table for an ashtray, assuming he wouldn't want ashes in his sheets. 

[Trillian]

On the bedside table was a small dish made out of orange transparent glass, shaped to look like a crab if one were to squint and tilt their head. The only reason Decker had bought it was because it had cost under five dollars and it didn't look like an ashtray because it wasn't supposed to be one. The dip in the crab shell made it behave like one, though, so he plucked it off the bedside table and put it on his chest for them both to use.

[The Cedar Witch]

A smile touched her lips as he placed the orange dish on his chest, and she tapped the ashes into it with one quick motion.  The silence between them was an unfamiliar thing to her, being so accustomed to individuals eager to speak to her.  Profess adorations or otherwise.  It was harder to hide behind masks in the silence.  She was continually pulled back into herself, constantly on guard as if he would see into her mind--even though she knew he was incapable of such things.

Perhaps she had been out too long for her first evening excursion since reemerging.  She hated that she was so fragile--evidently, she'd come back too soon.

In silence she smoked, eyes absently tracing over his form.  She watched as the rise and fall of his chest with each breath moved the ash-filled dish up and down.  When the glowing tip came close to the edge of the filter, she crushed it into the dish and slid out of the bed.  The desire to look around the room struck her suddenly.  Remaining in the nude with hands lightly clasped behind her back, she drifted around the room, looking over things that were left on surfaces.  She wanted to know what he was like beyond what he had shown her. 

[Trillian]

He watched her move about the room, pupils following her form like she was metal and they were magnets. He admired her, the cigarette forgotten in his hand, only absently pulled on but mostly burning down at its own pace.

She would see a walnut dresser though if she opened the drawers she would find it was filled with things instead of clothes. All of his clothes hung in the walk-in robe, or were folded on the shelves in there. He didn't have so many. There was an small open shelving unit on the wall opposite his bed, where a handful of records had been placed with an old portable record player on the shelf beneath them. All the records were singles, hits from the fifties to the eighties. Almost all of them could be considered soul music.

There was a tiny plant on another shelf. A small barrel cactus in a white pot. His artworks and sculptures all held an ocean creature theme. A carving of a seahorse. An abstract painting that looked like jellyfish. A dried piece of coral next to a dried-up starfish.

Decker finished his cigarette and put it out on the ashtray on his chest, moving it back to the bedside table as he blew out the last smoke.

"Shower?" he offered, swinging a leg off the bed as he sat up. He wondered if she would leave immediately after it or spend the day with him. He'd make sure she was safe. "You can stay if you like," he said, as if she'd already said something about going, but his tone - while slightly hopeful - revealed a kind of knowledge that she wouldn't be interested in spending much more time with him.

[The Cedar Witch]

Anna pulled open no drawers, though her fingers lightly brushed against the wood in a gesture of casual consideration.  Her light touch moved over the clothing as she moved into where they were kept.  His scent perfumed the fabric and clung to the walls and shelves, nearly overwhelming her with the desire to taste him again. 

Always so greedy.

Back into the room proper, she glanced briefly over the ocean-themed decor, lingering on the painting, before stopping in front of the record player.  The collection of music made sense to her given what she knew of him so far, but it made her smile softly and entertain the idea of selecting one to put on.  She imagined him lying in bed alone with a record playing, smoke filling the room as he read a book.  Or perhaps the music was played for others that accompanied him to bed.

Making silent guesses about his personal life was a welcome distraction.

His question drew her attention and she hesitated before answering.  She disliked putting on anything less than fresh clothing out of a shower, but it couldn't be helped.  "Yes."  Her eyes followed his movement as he sat up, and she approached the bed. 

At his offer, she looked around the walls of the room as if considering, but she smiled apologetically instead.  "Another time."  She couldn't decide yet whether the words were genuine.  Anna would shower, dress, then leave.  It was a rarity for her to spend the morning with a lover.

[Trillian]

"Yep," he said in reply to her dismissal, feeling gruffly embarrassed. He slunk off the bed in a manner that was exceptionally feline and approached her. He held her face with one hand, gently taking it but firmly holding on, and planted a hard kiss on her lips before moving away only a few seconds later to get the shower going.

He'd reached in to get the spray steamy and hot, pulling out a clean towel for her use and placing it on the side of the sink, where she would be able to get to it. In the echoey bathroom he asked her another question, raising his voice only a little because he knew her senses were elevated.

"You first or together?" he asked, not wanting to intrude on her shower time if she wanted to slake him off her body. He wanted to be with her for as long as possible before she left but didn't want to crowd her either. He valued his personal time and space. It would be disrespectful not to value hers.

[The Cedar Witch]

She watched him intently, savoring the contact and kiss once it came.  Her head followed after him, chasing his lips, but he slipped away and into the bathroom.  There was a pang of disappointment beneath the current of possessiveness that still lingered, and it propelled her quickly after him.  She liked that he set everything up for her, going to far as to run the water.  It was fitting.

Anna shrugged at his question but gave him an almost suggestive smile.  She truly had no preference, but the consideration was another thing she liked.  The image of hot water cascading down his body was an enticing one, but there was time enough to experience that later.  And she very much intended on seeing him again.

Instead of speaking, she stepped into the shower.  Eyes closed she stood under the stream, her thoughts were blissfully tame as the feeling of hot water slicking down her hair dominated her senses.  She let out a needless exhale, slow and through her mouth.

[Trillian]

Her lack of a clear response was the first moment she irritated him. Everything had been interesting and easy up until now. He wasn't the type to second-guess himself but he had to assess the situation to help him decide whether to shower with her or not. He'd revealed he was keen for her with his invitation. She'd shut him down. He'd asked if she wanted to shower with him. She hadn't replied.

He was decided. As she'd said to him; another time. He left her in the shower to warm herself up and clean off his scent. He busied himself in the bedroom, gathering her clothes and flicking any carpet fluff off them before placing them in a small pile at the foot of the bed so she wouldn't have to go hunting for them. He pulled on his underwear and then his jeans but didn't bother with a shirt. He would shower once she was gone.

He put his harness and weapons away then sat on the foot of the bed beside her clothes, waiting. After a minute he lay back, his knees bent off the bed and his toes on the carpet while the rest of him enjoyed the crumpled sheets and mattress. He heard the shower shut off but didn't sit up, imagining her towelling herself dry. He couldn't hear anything after the water had stopped. She was ninja quiet.