Elisabeth (dragonydreams) wrote,

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Ficlet: It starts with a kiss... (Willow/??) Adult

This is what you get when you're single and wake up extremely horny.

Title: It starts with a kiss...
Author: Elisabeth
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Willow/?? (pick your partner)
Summary: Hunger, desire, SMUT!
Distribution: My LJ and my site (http://www.dragonydreams.com)
Disclaimer: Willow is not mine. Just borrowing her to help play out a fantasy.
Feedback: Crave it. Don't you think one of my cravings should be satisfied today?
Thanks to kallie_kat for looking this over for me. (Which is why this is being posted at night rather than during the day.)

It starts with a kiss...

Hesitant lips touch, barely brushing against the other's. Her lower lip dry, despite the recent wetting she'd given it, bumps against his, grazing against its plumpness, before pulling away again. Not far. She can still feel his breath panting out from between slightly parted lips on hers.

A heartbeat passes, and then another, and then his lips are pressed against hers and she sighs. His hands rest along her cheeks, fingers curled behind her ears, sinking into her hair. His grasp is firm and needy, afraid to lose touch of her; afraid she'll pull away when he's hungered for her taste, her touch.

The initial firm press of his lips softens now that the overwhelming urge to meet has been sated. His tongue darts out to taste her lower lip that had teased him so recently. His teeth gently capture the flesh, scraping back until it is once again returned to its owner.

She whimpers, hands digging into the hair at the nape of his neck. She presses forward, needing more contact with him. The teasing is becoming unbearable. The light touches are no longer what is wanted or needed. Even his gentle show of dominance is not enough. Not anymore.

Her lips are parted as she seeks his out again, mourning their loss of only a few seconds' time. Her body presses tighter to his as she moves to straddle him, pressing as much of herself into him as she can, while her tongue seeks out his.

She has no barrier to pass through in order to explore the mouth she has longed to taste. Rather, she is met and welcomed, his tongue brushing against hers in welcome, enticing her in further.

He is happy to let her taste and explore to her heart's content. He knows that she will soon allow him the same luxury. In the meantime, he reciprocates when he can and explores the writhing body sitting astride him. His hands roam her back, dipping under her shirt, fingers digging into the heated flesh. He's torn between wanting to lift the shirt over her head, but not wanting to stop kissing for the few seconds it would take to remove the offending article. Instead, he reaches down to squeeze her ass, pulling her closer. When she licks behind his teeth, the tip of her tongue teasing the roof of his mouth, he arches up, pressing his hardness against her.

She moans and writhes at the feel of the hard press of him against her. Her need for him, the touch, the contact, has only intensified since the kiss began. Her entire body feels like it's on fire; heat and want and ready to be consumed completely.

She gasps when she suddenly finds herself on her back, shirtless, but merely arches up to meet the body pressing her down. Her mind is too hazy with lust to be impressed that he was able to remove her shirt in the same action he used to lay her down.

With their mouths separated, he trails hot, wet kisses down to her neck. She cries out and arches into his touch when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. He grins against her flesh and intensifies his attentions there. Licks and nibbles are interspersed with simply tasting her flesh. When he pulls back he can see the beginnings of a bruise showing and can't help the surge of pride at knowing she'll bear his mark, for a few days at least.

It is her lips on his throat that bring him out of his musings and back to the woman in his arms. Lips that explore his flesh as eagerly as he had hers as her hands try to draw his shirt up. In his need to feel more of her skin against his, he pulls it off for her, and before it has reached the floor her mouth has fastened itself around one of his nipples. He bites back a cry of surprise, of pleasure, at her action, but it doesn't seem to faze her.

His hands slip around her back, holding her to him, needing something to hold onto. His fingers pass over her bra and he immediately sets about removing the offending scrap of material. Deft fingers soon find the clasp and release it, yanking the lingerie down her arms to be tossed aside. She has switched to his other nipple, and rather than interrupt her to get a taste of hers, he palms her breasts, learning the shape and feel of her. His thumbs brush against her tightening nipples, drawing a gasp of pleasure from her. He smiles and repeats the action, teasing her until she is too distracted to do more than pant.

He lays her back down, his head lowering as they move, so that by the time her back has met the softness beneath them, his mouth has captured a breast. She shifts beneath him, making herself comfortable, pressing closer to the feel of his mouth surrounding her. She doesn't know what is turning her on more, his tongue tracing the underside of her breast, his teeth toying with her hardened nipple, the suction of his mouth; or simply having him being the one doing this to her.

When she thinks she can take no more of the intense stimulation, he suddenly switches to her other breast. The sound she makes could sound like pain to a passerby, but he knows it's from the pleasure he is giving her. It is the need that she feels. He knows, because he feels it too.

He shifts one of his legs so that it rests between hers and presses his hips into hers. He groans around her breast at the pressure that is now against his aching cock. He feels her shift beneath him so that he is pressed against the center of her heat. Her hips roll, encouraging the hard press of him against her, her need for the stimulation as great as his own.

She moans in protest when he seems to pull back; his mouth leaving her breast at the same time that his hips remove that delicious friction she'd been getting. When she feels his lips trailing down her body, getting closer to her jeans, she knows he's not leaving her, merely moving on to the next possibility for pleasure.

His eyes flick up to her face when he reaches the top of her jeans and his breath hitches at the intensity and hunger he sees in her eyes. Afraid of being burned alive under the fire in her eyes, he turns back to the obstacle before him. It doesn't take him long to unbutton and unzip her pants, and he isn't surprised when she lifts her hips to ease their removal, along with her panties.

His eyes follow the path of the pants, down her legs and over her feet until they lay discarded on the floor. When he turns back to her, she is lying open and hungry for him. He had half-expected her to try to cover up some of her nakedness, or cross her legs demurely. Instead, she is beautifully disheveled, red hair fanned out against the pillow, skin flushed pink with arousal, breasts rising and falling rapidly with her shallow breaths, legs parted, welcoming him home.

He runs his hands up her legs, his thumbs rubbing circles into her flesh as they go. When he reaches her center, they part the flesh, baring her to him fully. His tongue stretches out, licking her slowly from core to clit, stopping before he touches that sensitive piece of flesh. He suppresses a groan of pleasure, of pride, that she is so wet for him. His cock throbs in his pants, insisting that she is ready for him and to skip any further preliminaries. But he wants to give her more pleasure before he seeks his own.

A calloused finger teases her folds before pressing inside her as his tongue flicks out to tease her clit. She moans and presses into him, wanting more, needing all of him. He teases her, playing her, playing with her. He's driving her crazy with his languorous touches and light pressure.

"Please," she begs, the first word she's spoken since this began.

The raw need in that single word sparks through him and he moans against her. A second finger soon joins the first, now moving faster inside her. Her hips roll with the motion, unable to remain still, trying to find the orgasm she knows is close now. He redoubles his attentions on her clit, applying the knowledge he's gained from his playing as to what she likes best. He is soon rewarded by her cry of release as her thighs tighten around his head and his hand is coated in her wetness.

He stands on shaky legs in order to remove his remaining clothing. His eyes never leave the panting, sated form of his lover as she tries to regain her composure, lying as he left her for want of the energy to move.

Naked, he crawls over her body, covering her like a blanket. He kisses her face until she comes back to herself and captures his lips with hers. She tries to convey her thanks, her desire, her want for more through the kiss, as she lifts one leg to rest over his hip.

Taking her cue, he positions himself at her entrance and slowly pushes forward. There is no resistance, only an incredible wet heat and tightness surrounding him. He buries his face in her neck, needing to gain some control before it's over before it's begun. She seems to know what he's feeling, but rather than simply letting him center himself, she clenches her inner muscles, driving him even closer to losing control.

He lifts his head to glare at her, only to be met with an impish gleam in her eyes that tells him she knows exactly what she's doing to him. Maintaining eye contact, she rolls her hips, causing him to sink even deeper inside her, and he has to close his eyes and groan at the intense pleasure. Hard and fast it is.

He pulls back slowly, teasing her, knowing she expects him to try to draw this out, only to slam back into her. She clutches at his back as he builds up a relentless pace, one she is soon able to match. They both know that this is not the time for tender love making, that can come later, another time, a later joining. Right now they have an urgent hunger that is demanding to be sated. A long-denied lust that needs fulfillment. Slow can wait its turn.

Her other legs joins the first around his hips, her ankles locking behind him. Her feet bounce against his ass, spurring him on. Her head tips back in a soundless moan as his mouth seeks out any flesh it can reach. Teeth and lips and tongue, and his magnificent cock is filling her, driving her crazy, driving her towards what she knows will be an intense orgasm.

He warns her that he is close, that she's incredible, that she's driving him insane. She tells him to let go, not to hold back, before taking his mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hand slips between their bodies, seeking out her clit, unwilling to leave her behind when he finds his release. His mouth captures her moan, and the slight pain of her fingers digging into his scalp is welcome as they accompany the tightening around his cock as she comes. He groans at the additional stimulus and strokes hard into her one last time, feeling his come shooting deep inside her.

His body feels heavy now that the endorphins have worn off, but he doesn't want to crush her beneath him. With a groan of satisfaction, of disappointment, he pulls out of her and encourages her to roll onto her side so that he can spoon in behind her. She seems as reluctant to move as he is, but they somehow manage. His arm drapes around her waist as the other slides under her neck, pillowing her head, and their legs intertwine.

She turns her head so that she's dazedly looking up at him and smiles. She stretches her head up, relieved when he bends his down to meet in a lazy kiss.

The End
Tags: fic:it starts with a kiss, willow

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