DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are
property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is dedicated to Adrienne and Miranda--the former because she fulfilled my challenge and the later because it's partially inspired by something she posted the other day.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
By Katherine Quinn
Sometimes, I think that being with you is like breathing. You give me the will to wake up in the morning. You provide a reason to smile when there are none. You give me a life worth living.
When we weren't together, I would think of you as I woke up. My attraction to you was so primal, so undeniable. My first thoughts each morning were of you, your eyes, your body. I wanted to touch you, and instead, I'd let my hands wander over my own body. The things I dreamt of doing, waking next to your warm naked body filled my imagination. My fingers resting where yours would be, I could hear myself moaning, but it was always mixed with yours. But after I would come crashing down to earth, I would turn over and I would reach for your soft lips. I'd be forced to remember that our love existed only in my mind. I would awaken from the lusty dream and slide into my work persona. There we would meet face to face. My imagination of you and the way you were. Always so distant and so damn professional. But you'd crack once in awhile; I'd see your smile, and those lips, would burn into my memory and I would dream about those lips running over my body. I would feel my face burning red and you never seemed to notice. Maybe yours was burning too.
So now, when I turn over and find you next to me, I relish in pulling against you. Sliding my fingers over your body, I press myself against your back. Feeling the way your soft curves fit with mine, feeling you slide into my arms so willingly; I know what paradise is. When we first found each other and gave into our attraction, we fucked like animals. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was embarrassing, like teenagers, on kitchen counters, in public bathrooms, and any other horizontal surface on which we could wedge ourselves. It wasn't tender or loving; it was touch me, fuck me, screaming orgasm sex. The kind that left us both sweaty and exhausted in each others arms, our bodies desperate to pull air into our lungs, resting just long enough to catch our breath and start again.
And then, later, when we realized that this was more than a quick one week relationship--something that we would relish as hot sex and not much more. The night you told me that you loved me and I shyly smiled and told you that I loved you; we truly made love for the first time.
I brought you up to my apartment, and instead of immediately grabbing you against the wall, I led you slowly to the bedroom. I laid you out in front of me, and slowly kissed you, gently grabbing your bottom lip in my teeth and sucking on it gently. I'm surprised to hear you moan in my mouth. We've never taken the time to explore each other like this. You slide your hands around my waist and pull me next to you, and slowly, gently, we kiss. Long luxurious wet kisses that aren't urgent with impending orgasm, or pleading for more. They're just loving, gentle, sensual kisses, pressing for nothing more than contact with each other.
You slide my hand up your body, gently, I let you guide me. I'm surprised where you lead my fingers, slowly up the side of your body, gently, teasing yourself with my fingers. You press my hand against a hardening nipple, your fingers still laced with mine. Now it's my turn to moan as I feel you pressing against me. But still we just kiss, gently rocking into each other. For the first time, we don't just rush to rip off clothes. This is more than a frantic tumble in the sheets.
Slowly, gently, we slide each others clothes off. Your shirt, then mine. Piece by piece, we spend time worshipping each other; every inch of newly exposed skin covered by tiny kisses. We hold each other close, still letting our tongues dance together. My fingers are tangled in yours, as we continue our slow assault on each others senses. I extricate myself from you to slide between your legs, smelling your arousal, and slowly, letting my tongue reach out. I can feel your response as I slide over your clit, and instead of slipping fingers into you, quickly pushing you over the edge, I take my time to tease you into a frenzy.
I'm surprised how wet you are as I continue to taunt you. My tongue slides over you easily, as I settle into a steady rhythm against your warm throbbing center. I feel your fingers in my hair, pressing my face into you. I smile into you, as I continue my relentless assault, and I can hear my name, as you press your thighs against the side of my head. I press my finger inside you, so I can feel you come and I'm surprised at how strong the contractions of your body actually are. I feel your body constrict as you tighten your grip on me, and then, as suddenly as it all began, it ends. Your body relaxes into a heap, as though your muscles have become jelly. I kiss you gently, once, then twice, as I gently slide a trail of kisses up your stomach, ending with one that lets you taste yourself on my face. You are gasping as I kiss you. I relish, holding you as you recover, our body alive and trembling against me as we continue our soft kisses, warm in each others embrace.
It's more than just attraction. It's got to be love.
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