anythingbutblue: (leaning on arm)
[personal profile] anythingbutblue
When movement on the bed wakes her, Faye rolls over onto her stomach and pillows her head on her folded arms. Her eyes open, and she peers quietly over her arm at Gren as he sits up next to her.

It's not his chest, breasts half hidden by the hair that falls over his shoulders, that her eyes are drawn to first. It's not the less hidden distraction between his thighs, either.

It's his face she has to look at.

Those damn blue eyes are even bluer when his hair falls into his face like that -- which is almost all the time -- and it's that long dark hair that draws her eyes next. It practically cries out to be touched and felt, but before now she's always been able to resist it with no trouble.

Always.

The ends of his hair touch this curve in his lower back that nearly makes her heart speed up all by itself, and why is it that she never notices just how long his arms and legs are when he's wearing clothes?

It's a second or two before she realizes he's started looking back at her, and as though there's been nothing to see all along, she smiles with every ounce of feigned innocence that she can muster and lets her head sink into the pillow of her arms enough that her eyes are just barely visible over them.

Well, he can hardly blame her.

Date: 2007-08-08 07:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bothbutneither.livejournal.com
"You think so?" Working his other hand beneath her body, tilting his hips toward her, he drinks in the tinge to her cheeks: being in her bed with her right now is the virtual embodiment of luxury. He's woken up in only two other rooms since he got here and he's always been a creature of habit. Used to what he's used to, he hasn't always sought out something new just for the sake of newness or change.

Still, it's a privilege to wake up to her, a thrill equaled in so many ways by the way she took him by the hand and led him up here last night, undressing him with a fervor he never would have expected from her just a week ago. They may not have made any declarations of intent or commitment or exclusivity, but there's no distracting other of any sort vying for his attention; he's no whore. As far as he's concerned, he's all hers for the taking if that's what she wants.

Right now, he wants her. She's awoken a slumbering animal inside him. If she's a tiger he's a lion; in a swift move he rolls her onto her back and positions himself over her. Propped on his elbows, he keeps a tantalizing inch or two of space between them; smooth sheets of long black hair tickle over her body. That only lasts a minute though; he lowers himself gently, resting the length of his body against hers.

They fit.

Dipping forward, he steals kiss after kiss right out of her mouth; they're right there for the taking and Faye doesn't seem to mind. He knows he doesn't; he could stay here all morning long, nothing but a cascading mane of hair shielding them from the light peeping through the window.

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Faye Valentine

March 2008

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