Her clothing comes off piece by piece.
I like your pants around your feet.
She steps out of the clothing around her.
and I like the dirt that's on your knees.
She kneels, caressing skin, leaving teasing kisses along his chest, navel and hips until she reaches his length. She touches and he groans his frustration, taking pity she takes him into her mouth, but not before making him sit down. Licking and sucking, she drives him further and further until he finally falls off the edge and as he tangles his fingers into her hair he releases into her mouth. She doesn't mind, she is used to it and knows she will be amply rewarded later. He will make sure of it.
He pulls her up onto the bed so she sits next to him and rests his forehead on her collar bone as he lets his haze filled mind clear.
He pushes her down and closes her eyes with a whispered spell. Dipping his head he finds that she is already wet and ready for him. He will make her come, his tongue thrusts into her causing her hips to jerk slightly with the unexpected intrusion. His lips wrap around her clit, sucking until it throbs slightly, but then he raises his head and doesn't make a move. She raises her hips slightly and moans at the loss of contact but he tells her that she must plead.
Sitting on the edge of ecstasy she obliges, thinking dimly that she should have made him plead when she had had the chance.
and I like the way you still say please
With a smirk that she cannot see he climbs so his body covers hers without making contact. She pleads again but he lowers himself and silences her with a kiss and then thrusts into her. She makes small sounds of satisfaction that drive him harder and faster until he feels her convulse around him. Unable to stop he keeps pumping into her, searching for a second release. She smiles knowingly and releases her grip on his back moving across his shoulders, knowing her nails will have left livid red marks in their wake.
He finally reaches his climax and collapses on top of her, taking off the blinding spell between heavy breaths.
while you're looking up at me.
She raises her eyes to look into his, something she almost never does after sex. Not knowing exactly what to, he closes his eyes and rests his sweaty brow on hers. He rolls off of her and lies to her side, putting one arm around her waist and drawing her to him, holding her close to him.
And this side is the side of him she likes best.
you're like my favorite damn disease.
He knows that she is different around others, that she doesn't like how he is difficult around her family but right now he doesn't care, in his last post-coital thoughts before sleep overtakes him he thinks that he can learn to love anything and anyone, as long as it is connected to her
you're like my favorite damn disease.
and I love the places that we go
and I love the people that you know
and I love the way you can't say no
too many long lines in a row
I love the powder on your nose.
He dreams more of her now that he has her. He thought that once she was within his grasp his need for her would be sated but it has only grown. He thinks he knows her, that he owns her.
and now I know who you are
it wasn't that hard just to
figure you out
Many hours into the next morning he wakes, turning to look upon her body, shamelessly uncovered and rising and falling with each breath.
I like the freckles on your chest
He has tried to find out everything he can about her, she knows that she is his obsession and uses the knowledge to manipulate him. He doesn't even notice it until long after he has exhibited the emotion or behavior that she craves from him, be it jealousy or carefree euphoria. But he knows that she will accept no other man.
and I like the way you like me best
and I like the way you're not
impressed,
while you put me to the test
I like the wine stains on your dress
He is sure she is not unique, that there are others that could make him feel the same way but when he holds her like this his conviction wavers. She is the only person to push him away when he tries to win her over with anything other than himself. Not that she doesn't appreciate the monetary benefits of their relationship, but she treats the pretty things that he knows she likes as they are; simply extra, superfluous to his presence.
and I love the way you pass the check
and I love the good times that you wreck
and I love your lack of self respect
while you're passed out on the deck
and now I know who you are
it wasn't that hard just to figure you out
His thoughts slip away from her dignified morals and back to her body and his baser instincts.
I love your pants around your feet
He draws his hand slowly over her abdomen and smiles when her hands try to swat his away. It must tickle.
and I love the dirt that's on your knees
and I like the way you still say please
while you're looking up at me
you're like my favorite damn disease
He thinks about the perfection of her body, but in his admiration his mind clears, leaving him with the distinct impression that his lust has gone too far and turned into something else, some sort of fixation.
Suddenly he hates her, hates how his control slips every time her presence engulfs him.
And I hate the places that we go
Why is he spending so much time with this one woman?
And I hate the people that you know
He wishes he could have her killed, that he could have her whole family killed. He thinks that if he leaves no trace
of her then he will be freed of the world she weaves, with just the two of them leaving no space for anyone
else.
And I hate the way you can't say no
Too many long lines in a row
I hate the powder on your nose
But even if he did he would still have her in his mind and he knows that it would taunt him to no end. He realizes that he doesn't own her, that it is the other way around, she is essential to him. She owns him because he needs her.
He doesn't understand. How is it that she can evoke insanity while keeping him sane? His happiness, sadness, jealousy and laughter were all attained on her prerogative. And he thought he understood her.
and now I know who you are
it wasn't that hard just to figure you out
Suddenly he doesn't care anymore, he needs her and she is here. Does anything else matter? Not to him.
.
A/N: The lyrics are from the song "Figured You Out" by Nickelback, I thought it fit rather well except for the line `I like my hands around your neck' which comes after `while you're passed out on the deck'. I couldn't figure out how to incorporate it into the story at that point. I know this was an adulteration of the song but oh well.