Author’s Note: This chapter is as the title says, literally.
That is, they have sex. There is no conversation and no plot in this chapter, so if you’re not interested in the sex, you can safely skip this week and go to 34: What’s Your Name?
They made it upstairs somehow, and into the bed while they were still working on the pants. They made it only somewhat under the covers hands all over each other as they worked on stripping each other, worked on learning each other.
He had a scar across his stomach and another one, a very old one, on his left shoulder. He had very little body hair, much less than most Bear men, and the sort of lean muscle that she expected from someone who hunted people for a living.
He smelled nice, even after days on the road, and she found herself nuzzling his neck to take in more of his smell. They both needed a long bath again, but that would – that would wait.
He laid down on the bed and raised his eyebrows at her in clear challenge. That was – Deline thought words were probably the wrong idea and straddled him, a smile growing wider on her lips. He was wearing nothing but the Bear-stone bracelet. He was waiting – waiting for her. One hand rested lightly on her hip. The other was already bunched in the sheets as if he was holding himself back.
She swallowed a little and let the warmth she was feeling show on her face, ducked down and kissed him again, taking her time with it, tasting him. She could feel his erection pressing against her. That would wait another minute while she learned everything about his kisses.
His hair was tangled and beautiful under her hand, just a little coarse. He made the most interesting noises, little grunts of urgency, and his hand on her hip was clutching and unclenching as if he was trying not to hold on to her too tightly.
When she finally pulled back, his eyes followed her. He licked his lips, opened his mouth as if to say something, closed his mouth again.
Not talking still seemed like the best idea. She leaned down to kiss him one more time, and then to press kisses to his neck and his throat, to his chest and his nipples.
She kissed his navel with a small chuckle and then glanced back up at him. He looked urgent; he looked a little nervous. She slid up his body to kiss his lips one more time. “Now,” she murmured, pleased she’d managed that single word properly.
She pressed kisses to his ears, watching the way they flushed with color, and then moved down his body again.
When she reached the curls at the bottom of his flat stomach, he groaned softly. “Shouldn’t I-“
“Shh. I want to see how you react. Where you jump. What’s going on with you.” She was pleased that all of those words came out clearly. At least, she thought they had.
“I’m, uh, I’m pretty sure what’s going on is pretty obvious. At least, I hope it is. If it’s not, I’m kind of confused. Shh, you said shh.” He fell quiet and grabbed the pillow with both hands.
He didn’t remain quiet for long, although he was mostly wordless, little grunts and moans as she explored him. When he finally managed a word again, it was please, and it came out clearly.
She didn’t ask please what; that was obvious from the way his back was arching, from the way he was looking at her, from everything about his body.
She kissed him, feeling as if she was stealing his breath, taking his life into her, all of that desire pressing at her in every inch of his body. And then, because he had said please, because she wanted it as badly as he did, because, because he was gorgeous beneath her, his lips bitten red and his cheeks flushed, because… she gave him what it was they both wanted.