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loathlylady2013-07-18 05:12 pm
msmcknittington) wrote in loathlylady2013-07-18 05:12 pm
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Someone was stroking her face and saying her name, urging her to wake up, but she didn’t want to. For the first time in a long time, no bad dreams had shown up to trouble her, and she wanted to follow the warm, comfortable threads of sleep back into sleep. If whoever it was would just leave her alone . . .
“Nicola. Nicola,” the deep voice said more insistently. “You must wake up before someone finds you here.”
“My ship,” she mumbled and pressed her face more firmly into the pillow. No amount of coffee could compare to waking up from this — in about two more hours. “Can be where I want.”
The stroking fingers paused.
“It flatters me that you wish to be here,” the voice said, darkening into a familiar, amused tone. “But at the very least, you will not wish to be found here.”
That woke her up. Exactly where she was came to her with sudden clarity, but she didn’t move just yet.
Nicola opened her eyes and shifted in her chair so she could tilt her head up to Jermyn’s. The blanket draped around her shoulders slipped down, letting a blast of cool air beneath it, but his hand didn’t move from where it rested on her cheek, and the skin he touched was very warm in contrast. Only inches away on the same pillow her head rested on, his face was expectant as he watched her. Up close, she could see the facets of color in his otherwise gray eyes, and she wondered that she had ever thought them cold.
“You fell asleep while we spoke last night,” he murmured, “and I thought it best to let you, because I have seen how tired you have been.”
“Not so tired,” she breathed, watching the myriad colors in his eyes shift and his pupils dilate, eyelids coming down halfway to not quite hide what was growing there. Distantly, she wondered what her eyes were telling him, but then he cupped her cheek and her chin tilted up almost on its own as he lips descended on hers, and she knew exactly what her eyes had said.
She had heard somewhere that Tirians were excellent kissers, because they did not as a rule often have sex, so all their focus got put into the preliminaries. Something about this had always struck her as false — who could be satisfied with kissing alone? — but Jermyn caressing her slightly parted lips with just the right amount of pressure made her doubt this previous thinking. It wasn’t just the way his mouth led hers to answer back; it was also the way his palm guided her head and the way his fingers stroked the tender skin behind her ear. No one who hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time perfecting a simple kiss could do it like this. Three points of contact, making her entire body feel alive in a way it had not for years.
He dropped his hand first, air brushing cold against her skin in its absence, and pulled away from her mouth an interminable, hungry moment later. They stared at each other, heads close enough that their breaths fanned over each other’s lips as she spoke.
“That was stupid.” And hot. Why did it always have to be stupid and hot? Why couldn’t it ever be well-advised and hot? “We should not have let that happen.”
“Yes,” he agreed, eyes still half-veiled and doing nothing to conceal the effect of that kiss. “So there is no excuse for what I am about to do next.”
“Nicola. Nicola,” the deep voice said more insistently. “You must wake up before someone finds you here.”
“My ship,” she mumbled and pressed her face more firmly into the pillow. No amount of coffee could compare to waking up from this — in about two more hours. “Can be where I want.”
The stroking fingers paused.
“It flatters me that you wish to be here,” the voice said, darkening into a familiar, amused tone. “But at the very least, you will not wish to be found here.”
That woke her up. Exactly where she was came to her with sudden clarity, but she didn’t move just yet.
Nicola opened her eyes and shifted in her chair so she could tilt her head up to Jermyn’s. The blanket draped around her shoulders slipped down, letting a blast of cool air beneath it, but his hand didn’t move from where it rested on her cheek, and the skin he touched was very warm in contrast. Only inches away on the same pillow her head rested on, his face was expectant as he watched her. Up close, she could see the facets of color in his otherwise gray eyes, and she wondered that she had ever thought them cold.
“You fell asleep while we spoke last night,” he murmured, “and I thought it best to let you, because I have seen how tired you have been.”
“Not so tired,” she breathed, watching the myriad colors in his eyes shift and his pupils dilate, eyelids coming down halfway to not quite hide what was growing there. Distantly, she wondered what her eyes were telling him, but then he cupped her cheek and her chin tilted up almost on its own as he lips descended on hers, and she knew exactly what her eyes had said.
She had heard somewhere that Tirians were excellent kissers, because they did not as a rule often have sex, so all their focus got put into the preliminaries. Something about this had always struck her as false — who could be satisfied with kissing alone? — but Jermyn caressing her slightly parted lips with just the right amount of pressure made her doubt this previous thinking. It wasn’t just the way his mouth led hers to answer back; it was also the way his palm guided her head and the way his fingers stroked the tender skin behind her ear. No one who hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time perfecting a simple kiss could do it like this. Three points of contact, making her entire body feel alive in a way it had not for years.
He dropped his hand first, air brushing cold against her skin in its absence, and pulled away from her mouth an interminable, hungry moment later. They stared at each other, heads close enough that their breaths fanned over each other’s lips as she spoke.
“That was stupid.” And hot. Why did it always have to be stupid and hot? Why couldn’t it ever be well-advised and hot? “We should not have let that happen.”
“Yes,” he agreed, eyes still half-veiled and doing nothing to conceal the effect of that kiss. “So there is no excuse for what I am about to do next.”