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Eva moaned softly, the noise being swallowed by Ryland as he kissed her thoroughly, slowly, a desperation building within them steadily, like an ember slowly kindling into a blaze.
It had been so long since she had felt like this — the needy, desperate hunger that clawed at the belly, that lit her skin afire until the slightest touch sent her shivering, keening for more, more, more. She had never had an exceptionally high libido; she liked human touch and contact when it came naturally, but had never been one to seek it out with great deliberation, often preferring the efficiency and ease of her own touch. Then the taskforce had come, been set into her lap, and being voted to such a lofty position had left her little time to think of bodily need.
But now — now his hands were roaming her back, her hips, her shoulders, dipping underneath her clothing, then retreating, and his mouth was strong, surer on hers than she had expected, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip on occasion. Every sensation from him had nearly three years of built up desire rushing to the surface, blooming across her skin until she felt she could tremble with it, thought she could fall apart with its intensity.
He broke the kiss, but didn’t go far, his mouth trailing across her jaw, then down her neck. His lips found her pulse, kissed it, then grazed it lightly with his teeth, and she swallowed down the small squeak the sensation pulled from her. He must have felt it, the vibration in her throat of the noise he had caused, for she heard him laugh, his breath hot against her skin, and he did it again, adding his tongue in a way that made her clutch at his shoulders.
He was careful, so careful not to leave any marks on her skin as he charted his way down, down to the collar of her shirt, his nose nudging aside the fabric so that he could kiss her collarbone, trace the edge of it with his tongue.
Want burned inside her, a sudden need to feel his skin, trace the contours of him with her hands. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling at it, sliding it up his back until he realized what it was she wanted, and he broke their embrace just long enough to tug it over his head, dropping it to the floor as he captured her mouth in another kiss.
She wrapped her arms around him again, sighing at the warmth of him, the life that he pulsed with, burned with, felt it seep inside her and build, build until she was smiling, catching his bottom lip between her teeth in a playful gesture. Still, the feel of him wasn’t enough, she wanted to see, observe, touch, and so she slid her hands around to his chest, and there she nudged him away, not so far as to discourage him, but just enough so that she could look at him.
The skin of his chest was soft, smooth, with a light dusting of coarse blond hair, his muscles more well defined than she had expected of him. She traced the lines of him, fingertips skimming across his pectorals, down to the splay of his ribs, following the curve of them around to his back, and smirking when she saw gooseflesh pebble on his skin.
She followed the sweep of ribcage back around to his front, down to his stomach, to the faint outline of abdominal muscles that flexed and jumped at her touch, and he let out a shaky moan. Down further still, where her fingertips slipped inside the waistband of his jeans, and she watched as her touch against the skin of his inner hips made the rather noticeable bulge of his jeans twitch, grow.
Her mouth watered — God, she felt insane, burned by lust, and she quickly reached for the button of his jeans, sparing only a moment to look at him, words of permission dying on her tongue when he was already nodding. The button and the zipper were quickly undone, and she helped push them down his hips, Ryland toeing off his shoes and socks as she did before kicking the pile away, leaving him in only boxers.
Eva let her eyes roam, her gaze a physical thing on his skin, heavy enough that he let out a soft little moan, his hand reaching out for her again.
“Not fair,” he said, breathless, and she wanted to hear him beg in a voice like that. “You’re still dressed.”
She looked up at him, letting her desire show, and gave him what she hoped was a coquettish look. “Then undress me. I’m not stopping you.”
He moaned again, that same, intoxicating, breathless sound, and his hands slipped quickly underneath her blouse, caressing her waist like he just couldn’t help but touch, before he lifted it up, gently coaxing it over her head.
He dropped her shirt as an afterthought as his eyes roamed across her torso, his gaze so heavy, reverent, loving, that she felt herself flush, heat blooming on her cheeks and down her chest.
“Eva,” he moaned, like a prayer, an oath, and she thought she’d never heard her name uttered in such a pretty way before, the sound of his want throbbing between her thighs.
She reached for him again, meaning to pull him in, feel his skin against hers, but before she could, he kneeled before her, only the top of his head visible before he glanced up at her, a shy smile on his lips.
Her brow furrowed, confused as he looked down again, his hand cupping her calf through her trousers before gently coaxing her to lift her foot. She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders, then did as urged, curious to see what his intent was. When he balanced her foot on his knee, she opened her mouth to ask just what he was doing, but then any words on her tongue died, affection welling up instead as he undid her laces, then slipped her shoe off.
“I would call you Cinderella,” he started, tossing her shoe aside and slipping her sock off as well, “but you’d ruin the mood if I did.”
He shot her a crooked smile, and she let out a bark of laughter, surprising herself with the sound, and she reached to lightly flick his chin.
“I’ll remind you, you ended up in my bed that night. I don’t think that constitutes ‘ruining the mood’.”
He switched to her other foot, repeating the same tender routine. “I thought I ended up there because of my magic touch.”
She just hummed, as though she doubted so, and he gave her a faux hurt look, so animated that it made her laugh.
“Teach me to help you,” he grumbled playfully, and she made to retort, but then he leaned up, pressing open mouth kisses to her belly, and any words on her tongue turned to a gasp as heat flooded her veins again.
Reaching underneath his chin, the man was surprisingly patient, she undid the clasp of her trousers before his hands took over, pulling down her zipper and tugging on the fabric until they fell in a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of them, kicking the fabric away as his kisses went lower, lower, until his nose brushed the edge of her underwear and she was almost panting with anticipation. She started to tell him to take them off, when he stood, taking her into his arms again.
Eva nearly groaned, he’d been so close, and she thought to order him back to his knees, when he stooped, hands gripping her thighs as he lifted, sending her flying, soaring, gasping, her legs wrapping instinctually around his waist.
She let out a squeaked, “Oh!” that she couldn’t stop, and he half laughed, half moaned, his mouth falling to her shoulder, and she realized he liked when she was vocal, making the note in her mind.
“Sorry,” he murmured, teeth pressed against her collarbone. “Didn’t mean — I won’t — want me to put you down?”
“No,” she whispered, tangling her fingers into his hair, and this time she didn’t stop the moan that rose in her throat when he kissed up her neck to her pulse. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
She winced — that was blunt, too blunt for sex and romance — but he was laughing, and open and free, a sweet sound that made her grin herself, head tossed back as his tongue darted out against her neck.
“That’s — you know, that’s fair. I, ah, I know what I seem like.”
She snorted, still grinning, giddy, and she tugged on his hair, heard his broken whimper and purred. “You are far, far more than you seem, Ryland.”
Then his mouth was on hers, hungry, ravishing, his hands on her ass gripping, kneading, and oh she could feel his cock, pressed hard and insistent against her center, and she made a dim note to praise him in bed when she wanted to rile him.
He took the few steps to her bed, then laid her down carefully, like she was something precious — not fragile, but something to be treated with care, love, adoration. As he crawled up after her, she reached behind herself, undoing the clasp of her bra and pulling the straps down, dropping it off the side of the bed as he watched her, eyes dark in the low light, an arousal so palpable that she stretched herself, tempting him to lose control.
“Eva,” he rasped, that same oath he’d spoken before, and she felt his cock twitch against her thigh. “You,” he breathed, and ran a finger down her sternum, making her shiver. “You hide a lot under sweaters and blouses.”
She smirked, arched her back, and repeated his touch down his sternum. “You hide it under childish t-shirts.”
Ryland grinned at her, taking no offense, and then he ducked his head, lips and tongue and teeth taking up a path down her sternum, across her chest until—
She let out a loud moan when he took her nipple into his mouth that shocked even her, the flesh was so sensitive. He swirled it, sucked, and her hands shot up to his head, holding him close as sharp pleasure crackled through her nerves. She scratched at his scalp, free, free, free, she could touch him freely now, and his moan vibrated across her skin, echoing through her body like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her if she didn’t have Ryland to cling to.
He kissed his way down to the underside of her breast, then sucked a spot on the skin, worrying his teeth there lightly. She arched, moaned, she made no effort to contain her noises anymore, not when they affected him so, and dug her fingers into his scalp, encouraging him to work her until he left a mark, a bruise she could carry with her for days.
He made two, three marks, then switched to her other breast. He pulled her nipple into her mouth again, and she wrapped a leg around his hips — he fit so well there between her thighs, she wanted to hold him there forever. She rocked her hips, pressing up against him, and his length twitched again, the heat of it noticeable even through the layers of fabric.
Still on her breast, he shifted his weight until he could place a hand on her belly, then trailed it lower, lower, until he slid his hand inside her underwear, slipping down until he found soaked folds—
“Oh, fuck, Eva, I—” he huffed, his head against her chest, his fingers twitching, gathering arousal.
She laughed, moaned lightly when his fingers stroked up, then back down, circling swollen, sensitive flesh. “This is what it takes to make you curse?”
He laughed too, picked up his head to look at her, earnest, adoring. “Can you blame me? You — god, you’re wet.”
She chuckled again, she couldn’t seem to stop laughing, and rocked her hips, desperate, seeking. “Astute observation, Dr. Grace. Now do something about it.”
He laughed, raked his teeth against her breast, then to her disappointment removed his hand. But then he was moving down, quick, fast, his mouth trailing kisses.
“Can I—” he kissed her belly, “can I eat you, Eva, please? I want to taste you, need—”
She moaned, the words from his mouth sounding so filthy, and the desperate need in his voice made her arch, tremble, and she nodded, lifting her hips.
“Yes, yes,” she panted, and his fingers were curling into her underwear. “Just touch me.”
He pulled her underwear off, tossing them away before settling back between her thighs. She threw a leg over his shoulder, expecting him to dive in, put his mouth on her cunt and give her finally—
His mouth landed instead on her inner thigh, kissing, biting, then soothing the bite with his tongue, and she groaned, sliding her hand to cup the back of his head, encourage him upwards.
“You are far too methodical,” she complained, only halfheartedly, and she felt him laugh as he bit again, soothed, God he was only an inch away, just a turn of his head is all it would take.
“I’m a scientist,” he said, and now he was licking the crease of her thigh, he was going to drive her insane, “you hired me to be methodical.”
“I didn’t hire—”
Her words cut off with a gasp as he licked a firm stripe up her sex, finally. He moaned, then did it again, thumbs coming to spread her open as his tongue found her clit, flicked across it, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked.
“God, yes,” she sighed, tugging on his hair in encouragement, and the sound he made vibrated through her being, sent her thighs twitching, squeezing around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, only settled himself deeper into her embrace.
If she thought he was methodical before — he touched every part of her, searching, noticing, cataloging every one of her reactions. His tongue drew patterns through her folds, found what made her squeak, moan, then did it again, again and again until curses fell from her lips. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, keeping her anchored to him — not that she wanted to go anywhere, not when he was proving what a dexterous tongue all his talking had given him.
He didn’t stay in any one spot, didn’t leave any inch of her untouched. He pushed his tongue inside her, fucked her with it, and she let out a half laugh, half moan as she pulled on his hair, shivers spreading down her limbs, when had a man last done that to her? Then he moved back up, mouth wrapping around her clit again, laving it with the flat of his tongue, and oh that sent her flying, the edge of orgasm rising up so suddenly she whined, arched, wrapped both of her legs around his head.
“Don’t stop,” she said, except that the words might have been in German, she couldn’t tell, so she tried again. "Don’t stop.”
That still might have been in her mother tongue, but he understood regardless. He kept up the same motion with his tongue, same pressure, same tempo, and she thought she was thanking him, over and over and over. It was enough, would have been enough to send her over the edge, but then he brought two fingers to her entrance, circled it, then slowly pushed them in, the stretch making her moan, sent her body tightening even further.
“Ryland,” she whined, breathless, pulling on his hair, and at the same time that he moaned, his fingers curled inside her, a slow roll that stretched her, pressed just right against a delicious little spot inside her that made pleasure curl like warm, liquid honey up her spine.
His other hand squeezed her thigh, like he was asking, begging her to come, fall apart on his tongue, and how could she say no? Three more strokes of his tongue, another curl of his fingers and she was flying, words in any language she should grab onto that thanked him, cursed him, blessed him, fell from her mouth as her cunt pulsed, clenched, throbbed in a rhythm that made her tremble and arousal spill from her.
He worked her through her climax, sweetly softening his touch until even that was too much and she had to push him away, panting, trembling.
He kissed her thighs again, and gentle soothing, and then slowly crawled up her body, lips tracing a path until he was close enough that she could cup his jaw and pull him into a deep kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. He moaned, his hips twitching against hers, and she smirked, pressing herself against him.
They broke away, panting, sharing breath, and Ryland pressed his forehead to hers. “Fuck, Eva, that’s — you’re, just… incredible.”
She smiled, kissed him again, residual shivers sparkling down her spine. “Shouldn’t I be saying that?”
He laughed modestly, he still couldn’t take a compliment. She opened her eyes, and saw his glasses, smudged, slightly askew, and the sight made her smile. Reaching for them, she gently removed them from his face, reaching over to place them carefully on her bedside table.
When she looked back, he was gazing at her, that open look on his face that always made her belly flip, her heart fly. She reached for him again, cupping his jaw and pulling him into a soft, slow kiss, letting him sink into it, into her.
Then she slid her hands down his back, his sides, then found the waistband of his boxers, slipped her fingers in, started pushing them down his hips. He helped, working them down until he could kick them away, and she craned her head to look down, a purr rising in her throat at the sight of him, hard, wanting, the head of his cock wet with his own desire.
“Eva,” he said, a small note of laughter in his voice. “If you keep looking at me like that, this isn’t going to last as long as it should.”
She met his eyes, quirked her lips up into a small smile. “And if I don’t need you to last that long?”
He swallowed hard, eyes dark. “Just want to make sure I’m… it’s, you know, good for you.”
She snorted lightly, kissed him quick. “You say that after you gave me the best orgasm I've had in years?”
One of the only orgasms she’d had in years, but she didn’t need to mention that, not when he flushed, preened a little, kissed her harder. “Just that, it’s, ah, been a while. For me.”
She slid her hand over his hip, scratching her nails over the skin. “What’s the phrase you Americans have? Like riding a bicycle?”
He laughed lightly, still sounding unsure, and she cupped his cheek, kissing him softly. “It’s been some time for me as well,” she murmured, and kissed him again. “I won’t need long, either.”
He nodded, smiled, and with that settled, she reached between them, taking his cock in hand. He gasped, laughed, moaned when she stroked him once, long and slow, and she made note to explore this more later.
“Do I need a condom?” he gasped when she brought the head of him to her sex, slicked it by running him through her folds.
“No, it’s taken care of,” she told him, little sparks of electricity running up her spine when the head nudged her clit, still sensitive.
She lined him up with her entrance, then hooked a leg over his hip, coaxing him, encouraging him—
He thrust, sinking in to the hilt in a single move, as wet and relaxed she was, but still the stretch made her gasp, wrapping her arms around him as she gripped his shoulders.
“Okay?” he moaned, and she could feel a current running through his body, like a live wire just beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” she breathed, and turned her head to press her teeth to his neck. “Just stay still for a minute.”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that, that’s good.”
He bent his head to kiss her neck, her shoulders, while Eva breathed slowly, forcing her muscles to relax. God, the stretch felt good, felt right, he pressed against spots inside her that made her ache, made her tremble. He was heavy inside her too, a comforting weight, and experimentally she clenched around him, sending silky pleasure through her belly as he moaned in her ear.
The shock of the stretch abated, leaving her feeling so needy, desperate, the ache of her sex so demanding she thought she could cry, and she arched against him, sliding her hands down his back to his ass, gripping, demanding.
He moaned again, pulling out just an inch, then pushing back in, and that alone made her keen, the drag of his cock against her walls primal, animalistic.
“Fuck,” he uttered, and thrust again. “God.”
She laughed despite herself, feeling giddy with more endorphins than she’d felt in a long while, and she turned her head to nip at the shell of his ear, playful. “I’m not God.”
He laughed too, picking up his head to look at her, and oh he was heartachingly beautiful, with his hair mussed and damp with sex, lips kiss bruised and swollen, his eyes soft in a way only she got to see. “You could be, right now, and I wouldn’t know the difference. God, Eva, you’re so warm, and tight…”
His voice trailed off in a low groan, and he reached down, wrapping an arm low around her hips and pulling her closer to him before he set up a rhythm, slow, yet smooth. With it, she could feel him drag against every inch of her, feel every nerve fire, light up inside her until she could do little but moan, whimper, squirm with how sensitive her flesh was.
She had a sudden urge to ride him — flip him, trap his hips with her legs and keep him captive to the whim of her own rhythm, watch him flush and squirm and whimper himself. But then he shifted, changed the angle, and now his pubic bone rubbed against her clit with every thrust, and all thoughts of changing their position boiled down to just, next time.
Her hands slid up his back, feeling the muscles flex, coil, release, and she moaned, long and low, then sliding one hand up to his hair, tugging slightly. She hadn’t lied when she said she wouldn’t need long — one orgasm always made her prone to the next, and her body relearning the pleasure of touch only seemed to make her feel more sensitive, each little movement building her up quick, fast, like roots being ripped from the ground, left untethered to the earth.
But she herself couldn’t ever feel untethered, for even if she tried, she had Ryland in her, on top of her, surrounding her, full of life and warmth, his hands gripping her like he’d never let her go, a solid reminder that she was here, alive and human and messy and complete.
He shifted again, and she lost the drag of his body against her clit, but she reached between them, quickly replacing with the touch of her fingers, and the slip of her fingers against her swollen clit made her moan loud, the coil in her belly tightening fast.
“Oh, that’s it baby, touch yourself,” he moaned, and his rhythm hitched for a moment before resuming. “You got so tight when you did that, Eva—”
His voice broke slightly on her name, and knew they both approached their finish. “I’m close,” she whimpered to him, and it was true, her breathing was becoming ragged, her thighs trembling, and her cunt was starting to clench randomly, little flutters of pleasure that she chased, sought out, moaning when each one rolled over her longer, stronger.
He seemed to set his jaw, determined, and ducking his head, he pulled a nipple into his mouth, using his tongue and teeth almost haphazardly, but the sensation pushed her closer, clawed a moan from her throat almost painfully. She dug her fingers into his back, nails scraping the skin, and praise fell from her lips, telling him to keep going, so close, almost there, don’t stop—
All at once, the coil in her belly snapped, and she was coming on a sob, her whole body shuddering as her cunt clenched, pulsed, each throb of it shooting up her spine, down each of her limbs until she felt like she’d come apart at the seams.
“Eva,” he cried, a prayer, a mantra, and then he was kissing her, hard and sloppy and she gasped into the embrace, tongues and teeth clashing uncoordinated but still that sent heat blazing through her belly. He thrust twice more, and then he was groaning into her mouth, his grip on her hips tightening to bruising as he held still, buried inside her, his own orgasm crashing over him.
She let out a gasp, the feeling of him twitching inside her, spilling his seed, sent little sparks of pleasure through her core, a feedback loop that kept them moaning together, clutching each other as they rode through aftershocks.
When her breath started to slow, just a little, she drew her fingers lightly down the column of his spine, still mildly amazed she could touch him so freely, easily. He was heavy on top of her, pliant with his climax, but he was a comforting weight, warm and grounding, and she kept her arms around him as they caught their breath.
“God,” he rasped after a minute, and picked his head up enough to look at her, a sheepish smile on his face. “God, that was — I’m sorry, I’m laying—”
“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted, tightening her grip on him. “I wanted you here.”
He laughed lightly, his features a picture of amazement. He kissed her softly then, sweetly, so precious that her heart tripped in her chest, and if nothing else had blown her away that night, she thought that kiss would have done so.
His cock slipped out of her, and she unwrapped her legs from his hips, stiff from the position, and her thighs still trembled, making her chuckle softly, her body still awash with endorphins.
“What?” he asked, smiling and giving her a curious look, and it made her laugh again.
“My legs are still wobbly,” she said, and stretched them out, sighing at the pleasure of it. “You worked me over.”
He flushed with half embarrassment, half pride, and the expression made her laugh fully, completely, craning up to kiss him quickly. “Can’t hear that you did so after the fact?”
“No!” he protested, smiling with her. “I-I just — well I—” he cut off, laughing, before suddenly looking triumphant. “I just don’t kiss and tell, okay?”
Eva snorted, pressing her lips together against a giggle. “To the woman you just kissed?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” he groaned, still laughing, and bent down to kiss her again.
Ryland wrapped his arms around her, rolling them to their sides, fitting them together like a geode — separate, yet a perfect fit. The movement made her hips and lower belly cramp with residual pleasure, and she gasped, little shivers sparking across her skin.
“Okay?” he asked, a hand smoothing down her back in question.
“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning back to look at him. She studied him, mussed, loose, hers, and she reached out to smooth a tuft of his hair, tousled by her touch. “Better than.”
“Better than okay?” He grinned, wide, shining. “You’re going to give me an ego.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that possible?”
“I don’t know, keep making noises like you did tonight, and maybe it is.”
“Hmm.” She nodded sagely, both of them suppressing laughter. “We’ll have to test your hypothesis.”
He grinned again. “Look who’s using science terminology. I look forward to replicating the experimental conditions with you.”
She snorted, rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
“No, that’s your job.”
She giggled, flicking his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her tight, trapping her as she squirmed, which only served to make her laugh harder.
They settled slowly, naturally, the air of their bubble becoming warm and still until the only sound was that of their breathing. His fingers drew soft, random patterns along her hip, while she traced the lines of his shoulders, his chest, like a meditation, soothing her until her eyes slipped closed. She should stand, she knew, clean the mess between her thighs, ready herself properly for bed. But maybe she could give herself just a few more minutes to lie in the stillness, relish in the quiet of her mind for just a moment longer…
He chuckled suddenly, a soft vibration of his chest, and she slowly opened her eyes, giving him a questioning look.
“I—” he chuckled again, and she watched in amazement as a blush crept up his cheeks. “I was just thinking, the ah, other migraine relief technique that I know is,” he cleared his throat, “orgasms.”
Her eyebrows winged up, and he laughed again, his blush deepening. “But it uh, wasn’t exactly appropriate to offer. Until now, at least.”
She hummed, nodding, a smile creeping onto her features. “Well, perhaps that will make my next migraine more interesting.” She met his eyes, giving him a wicked grin. “If you’ll be at my service.”
He nodded vigorously, throat bobbing as he swallowed, and she made a note of his reaction for next time. “Yeah, yeah, I’m happy to be,” he saluted her with two fingers, “of service.”
Eva smiled, and moved to press herself against him entirely, twining her arms around his neck. “Good.”
His throat bobbed again as she kissed him, and oh, she thought, how fun he would be to play with.
She pulled away then, leaving him wanting, and she crawled out of bed, standing on legs that still wanted to tremble. “I need to clean up,” she said, then turned to look at him, breathtaking where he lay in her bed, sprawled like he belonged there. “Then stay the night?”
Ryland grinned, and propped his head up on his hand. “Astrophage going to Venus couldn’t drag me away.”
She rolled her eyes, turning away as she made her way to the washroom, closed the door.
And then smiled. How lovely it was, to have someone waiting, warm and loving in her bed.