Dream Weaver ~X~
Usual Disclaimer's apply.
Rockets Red Glare – Revisited
Hands moved like water over flesh as Kerry pretended not to like it. Her head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, her own fingers clutching…it was phenomenal to her that she could enjoy this. It was amazing to her how she could allow it and still feel dignity, but she did.
Moments earlier, she’d been standing in a strange house, with a strange (but familiar) man, feeling like an outsider in her own skin. His eyes had danced over her, slowly. She’d been chilled and aroused by this – his animalistic desire for her and the suddenness of it.
It had only taken a moment for things to progress. It had only taken a moment to end up in his arms. Perhaps hate fueled desire.
Now, he held her, almost lovingly as he breathed against her slender neck, against her pulse point – pressing against it.
“How does she touch you, Kerry?” he murmured against her collar, and she shuddered as liquid warmth spread through her abdomen. No words would leave her lips, but she held on, tight.
“Tell me.” He trailed his hand along her torso, burning through it with his heat. He could feel her rib cage against his fingertips and her heart beating unsteady rhythms. At this moment, she was all he ever wanted.
“Robert…” It was a breath, a sigh. “…I…”
Her supervisor spoke in such a soft voice; she thought maybe she imagined it. “Continue…”
She shook her head; feeling his insistent grasp around her waist, hand in her hair, gently tugging, insistent.
“Kerry…earlier I was…” He brought his mouth to her neck, kissed softly. The act sent ripples down her spine coursing through her body. Was this what being possessed felt like? But she wanted it – hoped he wouldn’t stop.
“More…” she sighed. “…please, I…”
“Kerry, touch me.” He breathed, and she immediately obliged, cradling his head, lightly dancing fingers over short tufts of silky dark hair, over radius of smooth skin – and further down. His thick neck startled her, the muscles of his pectorals even through a cotton shirt, his strength, his masculinity, his…
“Kerry, undress me…” Blue eyes opened slowly to find her own uncertainty reflected back. In a situation like this, ramifications were relative. The cause of such an effect could harm or enhance or…there wasn’t time to think. Her soul ached with the hunger she felt for him, for the need to possesses and be possessed by him.
Her hands shook as she unbuttoned his shirt, slowly. He was close to her in height as they stood face to face, and she tried to ignore his probing stare. His chest was peppered with light brown hair, and she took a moment to run her fingers through it as he watched.
A moment later, the shirt came off. He didn’t need it, and she didn’t want it.
Planting tentative kisses over his naked torso, she eventually felt his hand in her hair, driving through red silk as she arched into the caresses. Now he pulled her up to face him again and claimed her mouth with his.
The kisses were deep, probing, teasing. His tongue found and toyed with hers as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing into him.
Suddenly, he broke the kiss and reached for her arm. Tossing her crutch across the room, he stood and took in her startled gaze before sweeping her into his arms.
His bed cradled her body like swaddling silky eternity as she raised her arms and allowed him to remove her sweater. Goosebumps raised across her shoulders as his stubble face scratched and kissed and moved over her bare skin. This feeling was foreign to her and rare.
To feel large hands on her, rubbing her, squeezing her…it was almost alien except purgatory and pleasant.
To Robert Romano, Kerry Weaver was a different creature than he was used to dealing with. At work, she was a stoic, angry, pride parade waiting to happen. Here, she was almost Amazonian. Her body outside her standard medical wear was almost frail, and paler in the moonlight than he ever would have imagined. Dark red hair framed her face as errant strands fell across her cheeks and eyes, giving her an almost feral appearance. Arousal and surprise and embarrassment colored her cheeks, but he was positive she wouldn’t stop now. He’d have bet his Mercedes on that.
His mouth moved over the cups of her bra, lips grazing, teeth biting, teasing through indigo satin. Kerry bit her lip to keep quiet as her hands held onto the linens for anchor. He couldn’t drive her insane – it was much too late for that, anyway. But what he could do was bring her to new heights, to new realizations, and she wasn’t ready for that - wasn’t ready to look inside herself and see the truth that she’d always tried to avoid. That she’d been unsure all along.
Without warning, his hands found the waist of her slacks and without preamble; he was dragging them down her legs. Exposed yet uncaring, Weaver watched him pull her legs free and hold them each in turn, kissing the calves, the ankles, knees, thighs. This was unreal. Her mind fought a war with itself, desperate to block out the face of her female lover, who undoubtedly waited at home, glancing at the clock, hoping for a call. She couldn’t deal with that now.
Tomorrow, she’d reconsider the lesser of the two evils, but for now this seemed the right decision. She had to know the truth.
“Robert…” she whispered for her own realization, for had this been a dream, now she would awaken…but it wasn’t. Of this she was certain as his face came close to hers and his right hand caressed her breast gingerly.
The nipple pebbled instantly in his palm and she reached up to grab his head and pull him down to a kiss.
Their bodies were pressed together and he sank between her legs comfortably. Their eyes met and he rocked against her slowly, almost imperceptibly.
Closing her eyes and turning her face away, she held his shoulders as he bent his head and kissed her breast again. Then, she felt him remove the remaining garment above the waist, and she was arching again as he took her engorged nipple into his mouth and gnawed on it, eagerly.
Her breathing became uneven and rocky as she felt her erogenous zones network and enflame one another in unison. His mouth covered each breast in turn and she felt herself pressing, arching, aching…
“Robert…” it was a whimper as she felt his most manly of places harden where it met her own damp center, desperate for his touch.
“Kerry…promise me…” his deep voice trailed off and she met his stare. Her eyes questioned him silently. “…be honest with me.”
She had no idea what he meant; her thoughts became tangled and lost until she felt his thick fingers enter her, and her mind went blank.
“God…” her voice sounded far away even to her own ears as she allowed him to spread her legs and drive deeper. “…Robert…”
His mouth claimed hers as she gasped against him, moved against him. This constant driving was making her insane with need for something else. His fingers tangled in her hair as she felt her body involuntarily moving against his probing.
Now was not a time for reevaluation, but to Kerry Weaver, Robert Romano was the current peak of her existence. His hands burned like lava through her skin, his hardness pressing against her thigh, his breath ragged in her ears. She felt a scream rip through her chest and become stifled in her throat as he crashed his mouth down on hers.
“Kerry, hold on to me…” he commanded, and she released her hold on the bed and wrapped them around his neck.
Time moved blatantly forward, ticking like a metronome as without warning, they became one. His body joined hers as her uneven whimper marked the moment, and she clung to the beast, her enemy, allowing him to lead her to God-only-knew-where. Desperate for salvation, she tried to block out her rational self (what little of it was left) and concentrate on the man above her, inside her. He was so focused on her as he moved slowly, intently - almost tenderly.
“Robert…” Kerry cried out softly.
He planted light kisses along her neck and down, dragging his tongue along her torso, along her breasts.
His steady rocking pushed and pulled her body towards her eminent release as she tried to comprehend this feeling, tried to remember the last time anything had felt this liberating.
Rolling them over, suddenly she found herself straddling him, and his lips curled into a grin as he caught sight of her flushed face, heaving chest and disarray of mussed hair. He trailed his hands down over her abdomen, brushing rough palms over smooth pale skin, down the slight stomach to rest on slender thighs. She closed her eyes as he grasped her hips in each hand and began manipulating her above him.
Her defective hip throbbed and ached as his movements increased to near-brutality, but as she felt the telltale signs of sweet release, pain became irrelevant.
“Oh God…” she whispered, arching her back as she heard his inaudible murmurings and felt his warm essence fill her deeply. Now, as he stayed with her, firmly pressing onward, her inner walls contracted around him and sent her spiraling, tumbling towards a primitive resolution. She rode out the final waves, whining and collapsing on top of him in a heap of satisfaction and dare she consider (affection?).
For several moments, she lay atop him, in a state of near-unconsciousness brought on by denial as he stroked her back lovingly, silently adoring her. He was comfortable, and her physical weight above him was a small matter when compared with what lay ahead.
“Kerry…” he finally inquired some time later.
Her face was cradled in the crook of his neck as she murmured her response. “Hmm?”
“I’m sorry…about this.”
She stroked his cheek, absently. “Don’t be.”
And as they lay together, mutually deciding to leave the unspoken just that, Kerry wondered to herself what it all meant, and wondered too why she felt she could never leave the place at which she was right now – in his arms.
FIN
