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[captainryan]

((From here))

Richard carefully clambers back inside, ducking low to avoid hitting either his or his prize's head. Then he eagerly glides down the hallway towards room 417. His scent is practically humming with pleasure at his catch and the hand holding her pinches her thigh.

"Nearly there," he rumbles, already digging in his pocket for the keys.

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[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I'm not falling for that," he says calmly, a grin in his scent.

Honestly? He isn't really sure what she's planning. (For once, he's okay with not knowing.)

He gets to the bed and sits down before attempting to get his boots off while she's still on his shoulder. It's an interesting process.

[hell_in_highheels]

Well, she's not really sure either. He sits and she very slightly shifts her weight, starting to slip down his back. The goal is to make him have to choose between balancing her on his shoulder or letting her slide down to the bed. She does this slight shift every time he bends to reach for his boots. It's very subtle and she's biting her lip to keep from laughing now.

She's not going to make this easy, that much is certain.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"What are you doing?" He lets her lay across his back while he works on his boots, bent near in half. In fact, in that position with that much of her weight that far back, he can work on them with both hands.

They come off pretty fast, then.

Now's the part where he tries to sit up again. Um.

[hell_in_highheels]

Not making it easy, that much should be apparent.

A little giggle escapes, quickly stifled.

If he's not holding onto her, she'll slip down his back, a harmless puddle of fox.

And keep rolling right off the bed.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Hey!" He turns, but she's already gone. He quickly pulls his feet up off the floor, then undoes his holster and sets it aside.

He sniffs the air, not that it tells him anything besides what he already knows, and creeps for the other side of the bed to peer over the edge.

[hell_in_highheels]

Well, if he hadn't taken the time to undo his holster, he might have caught her, but now? No, she's gone. Take a look, see for yourself. Vanished.

He feels the bed thump once quietly, hears her curse softly, but by the time he looks, all he sees is a flash of colour. Have a face full of skirt, sadly bereft of anything but the scent of aroused fox.

He can hear her giggle receding into the living room again.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Now who's fast?

He pulls off his socks to give himself better traction on the hard wood floor, then gets off the bed with his nose buried in her skirt.

God, he wants her.

He silently reaches the door to the living room, pausing in the jamb to peer around for her.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Too many clothes," she singsongs. But from where?

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I can fix that." He drops her skirt and pulls off his shirt in one smooth movement. Then he's prowling into the room, sniffing uselessly (her scent is everywhere).

A light catches his eye when he sees the arch to the study. The armoury door is open just a crack and he pads towards it, stalking.

Peek-a-boo?

[hell_in_highheels]

She's taken off her sweater and undergarments, and is down to her birthday suit now. She watches from her hiding place, her skin aching to touch him. He smells divine and he's right there.

Sadly, he's still wearing pants.

She whispers this time, not directly at him but passed him, using the acoustics of the high ceiling to her advantage.

"Too. Many. Clothes."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He doesn't think that came from the armoury. He shuts the door anyway. If it did, she's in there and he now has the upper hand. If not...

He puts his back to the wall and undoes his trouser button. The zip opens but his slacks still manage to stay up, clinging to his hips.

"Like this?" He watches the room carefully, waiting.

[hell_in_highheels]

Oh so not fair. She takes a good long look at him, admiring the planes of his chest, his shoulders, his pecs (she doesn't even notice the scars anymore; they're simply part of him), his stomach, that light dusting of dark fur disappearing down... She has to close her eyes for a moment to catch her breath.

He might hear that little exhalation, that 'oh' of appreciation. It came from beside his desk, not five feet away.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He gives no sign of noticing, but continues to drop his trousers and pants, sliding them down until he can kick them aside.

Then he darts for where he heard her, hands outstretched and feeling just a bit foolish.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her longing far outstrips any desire to win this little game. His second step breaks the plane of the privacy screen and on the other side, his fox is waiting for him, just as bare as he is. She's a starry eyed, grinning like a fool, her own hands reaching for him.

"Like this," she breathes against his cheek, melting against him from shoulder to knee.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He kisses her soundly as he pulls her to him, not letting up until he has to breathe.

"I almost expected you to be blue," he murmurs against her lips.

[hell_in_highheels]

Breathing is overrated. She's still laughing, though, hands running over his head and neck, petting him, caressing him, devouring him with her hands.

"That one's.. in pieces.. for further study..." she answers between mouthfuls, kissing down his jaw to the hollow beneath his ear, breathing him in.

"God I want you." As she speaks the word, her embrace tightens around him, and he can feel it, smell it, taste it on her lips.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He just rumbles at her, nipping down the side of her throat, one hand curving around her ass while the other one finds its way into her hair.

His scent, like a photograph, is worth a thousand words.

[hell_in_highheels]

She sinks into his scent, sinks into love and longing, pressing her nose into his hair, her breath telegraphing his touch, shivering and shuddering, telling him exactly how much she wants him.

Goosebumps rise beneath his lips and he can smell that wild ecstasy in her musk. She fits herself to his body, her feminine curves moulding to his masculine planes, like she was crafted especially for him.

He feels so good, so very good and she wants more. She tells him so, with her hands, with her mouth, with her scent, with her sighs.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He kisses up the line of her throat, then bares his teeth to drag them lightly back down. The hand in her hair sweeps down, fingers trailing, to grab her ass. He smooths his palms over her curves then lifts her up to meet his mouth. His scent is still eager and anticapatory as he kisses her and just a shade impatient.

It was a long chase.

He backs her up to the desk glad for a strong support surface.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her head tips back to give him access, sighing and then purring as he strokes along her flanks. It was indeed a long chase, and she's eager too, but she wants to take her time, wants the prize to be worthy of such a heated pursuit.

She hisses as he pins her against the desk, her palms slipping down his shoulders, her back arching. She can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against her hip and she presses back, grinning against his mouth. One hand sneaks down to stroke and tease him.

"Not the teacher's pet, hmm?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He gives a strangled groan to her, refusing to whine with need or want. He's stronger than that, dammit, but god dammit, how he wants her.

And she's still teasing him.

"Uh uh," he assures her, encouragingly rocking against her. "You've been quite the troublemaker today."

[hell_in_highheels]

Her eyes drift closed and she rests her temple against his cheek, lost in the warmth of his body, the scent of his arousal driving her higher already. She feels the strength of him rock into her and she does whine with need.

Her free hand fumbles down his bicep, down his forearm to capture his wrist, bringing his hand to her mouth. She nuzzles his palm, bites gently at the mound of his thumb. She looks into his eyes, turning her head just so, playful, submissive. Vulnerable.

Her lips whisper against his skin, "However can I make it up to you?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"You know damn well how," he answers, impatience and playfulness flaring together. He nips her shoulder scar.

With the desk supporting her weight, he slips his free hand around to her front side parting her hair down below, reaching for her pearl.

Because dammit, two can play at the teasing game.

[hell_in_highheels]

She is molten honey beneath his fingertips. Every touch, every nip, every breath, ripples through her body, a shivering gasp on her lips as he fondles her. She hadn't meant to torment him, only to paint his skin with sensation, greedy fingers exploring, cataloguing the intensity of his hunger. And now, there's no way in hell they're going to make it to the bed the first time.

She opens to him, sitting back onto the desk with one hand around his neck, oblivious to the toppling stacks of books and papers. Her calves and heels stroke along the outside of his legs as she guides him closer to what he wants.

"Show me, she breathes against his lips, capturing his mouth again in a searing kiss.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He never planned to make it to the bed, not after she disappeared from it, little minx.

"All right." He pulls at her mouth as he rocks into her. He refuses to wait any longer, though he has no qualms about continuing to tease her. His hand rubs her delicately, not quite capable of hiding his grin. He frees his other hand from hers and slips it around the curve of her back to pull her onto him.