Beyond the Wall - RP for asthenoseonyourface

[coatandscarf]

The last thing Randy had expected when she woke up this morning was that her world would be turned upside down. She didn't anticipate her relationship with John to turn into what it had: a crazy desire to just draw him close and never let him go. It felt so strange to want to be touched again, yet with John it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Even now, sprawled on the couch, she knew she should be doing something other than thinking about him. Sleeping, writing reports, even eat. Yet she was more than content to just lay on the sofa and think of his stunning eyes and his beautiful curls.

She was hopeless.

Sighing, she took her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it before moving to send out a text. Bored. Thinking of you. Up to anything interesting? RH

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[coatandscarf]

As he pulled her onto his lap, a moan left her, the sound muffled by his own mouth as it left hers. She shifted so her legs would straddle his own, content to let herself be drawn in closer to him. Her lips captured his hungrily, the growl that left him somehow managing to excite her, rather than make her recoil in horror. She was having this reaction on him. She was.

Her fingers moved, turning her attention to the blazer, sliding her hands along his shoulders and under the jacket to ease it off his shoulders. It forced him to release her for a second, but it was worthwhile. Randy’s hands ran along his arms as the jacket slid off him. Lean. Not overly muscular, yet strong. Her hands moved back up to his collar, her fingers working on the rest of his buttons while the kiss grew more heated.

~~~~~~~~~~

John was amenable, albeit briefly, to letting her help him out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground with a low snarl before he was kissing her again...air wasn’t what he needed, it was her, and with the jacket off she was closer now. Her hands were warmer as they slid over his arms, as those deft doctor’s fingers flicked open the buttons of his shirt.

It still wasn’t enough.

The next logical step was to remove the jumper she was wearing, but there were two problems with executing that step: one, he’d have to stop kissing her to do it. Two, she might be uncomfortable if he took the initiative.

Working out a reasonable compromise, John’s wandering hand finally settled at the back of her neck, kissing her harder as his other hand slid down to insinuate itself beneath her jumper, pressing his palm against the bare small of her back...

…oh. Oh, that was...almost enough. Almost, but not quite...not nearly enough...

[coatandscarf]

The response was instant, as she drew in a sharp breath in response to the hand on the small of her back. It had always been ridiculous, but the softest touches there tended to get her going faster than a kiss. It was personal, it was a place not often touched, it was possessive. Her back arched, and a moan left her as he pressed his palm against her skin. Her fingers stilled against his shirt as she recomposed herself, a short first pause in what she was certain would be a series of them.

Slowly, her hands began to move once more, continuing their trek along his buttoned shirt, slowly exposing his skin to her. As her fingers ran down his torso, she’d stroke his skin ever so lightly, her fingertips teasing him gently. Finally, the last button was undone and she ducked her hands back up to the shoulders to slide the material off his shoulders.

She withdrew from the kiss then, straightening up in her slightly taller position to look down at him, deciding she really liked what she saw. His bottom lip was slightly swollen, his chest was rising and falling heavier than it had been not that long ago, his curls were at risk of falling into his face, and his dilated eyes stared up at her with an increasingly high amount of desire. She made no motion to get near him again, instead reaching out with her hands to run them gently across his shoulders and down his bare chest. He was by no means a man with an overly muscled physique, but that was fine by her. His frame was exactly as she expected it, the lean build of a scholar, possibly that of a casual swimmer or jogger. For a man that probably got no overt exercise, she couldn’t say she didn’t approve.

It became increasingly obvious that the placement of his hand was because of things other than warmth, and more to do with restraint. His own restraint. He was trying not to scare her off, wasn’t he? She could see it in his eyes that he was just as eager to look her over as she was looking over him. Biting her bottom lip lightly, painfully aware that he would read her every scar on her skin, she found herself nodding in silent permission for him to proceed as he’d like.

~~~~~~~~~

Her fingers, ghosting over his skin, were like the kiss of a butterfly’s wings. He could feel those calluses, hands ruined by the trials of the medical profession, relentless scrubbing and labor, smoother at the fingertips where her fingers hammered at the keyboard of a computer. He was lost, for a short while, in the study of how they felt with every brush against his chest...until she touched him, really touched him.

There was something strangely humanizing about being stripped, having his clothing smoothed away and his body exposed before she was learning him the same way he was learning her, analyzing the contours of muscle and flesh actively, and then she was giving him permission to do the same...

He couldn’t think. He didn’t care.

John reached out and caught the hem of her jumper, tugging upwards as she lifted her arms with all the speed and dexterity of an overeager child opening a Christmas present. Only then did he still, taking her in visually and doing just that: reading her body like a road map of her life.

Erratic pattern of scarring, shrapnel...damage done to one, two, three nerve clusters overall. Appendectomy, age eight most likely...pipes in the house have been malfunctioning...

The revelation was blinding just then as he took her in, an epiphany that brought him back to a perfection in the pure clarity of thought and reason. Logic and passion merged, and John had to wonder if this was how it was for everyone...no, just her. Just Randy, it had to be. This wasn't common, this wasn't ordinary...and the poor woman didn't even know, she had no clue...

With a sudden, uncharacteristically bright smile, John drew her in for a kiss, then broke away and shifted to press his lips to the pulse in her throat, flicking his tongue against that delicate point, tasting and testing and studying.

He was no longer limited by eyes and nose and ears...touch and taste, that was the secret of passion. Worlds of things he didn't know, couldn't see...every minute, every second, the body was acquiring data.

How could he get bored with her when he could find something new to learn every single time he touched her?

[coatandscarf]

Randy had to fight hard to resist the urge to squirm as his eyes looked her over, seemingly breaking her down piece by piece as his eyes lingered over her marks. Somehow, it was slightly less uncomfortable than she thought it would be, because he didn’t linger on her breasts, or her hips, or waist, or anything of the sort. Unsurprisingly, John seemed more interested in the other things, the things unique to her. Her scars in particular seemed to draw his attention, and she knew that he’d more carefully inspect it once he looked over her back. She found his actions rather comforting, really. He didn’t seem interested in the size of her breasts (yet), or her own physique. She should have known it would be like this, that he wouldn’t judge her based on her proportions or anything like that.

Then he smiled. Really smiled, one unlike any she’d ever seen from him. It nearly melted her. The kiss that followed sent a shiver down her spine, but a small gasp escaped her as his lips began to wander, only to have a faint moan escape her as he began to flick his tongue against the pulse of her neck. Her hands shifted, gripping onto his shoulders as she realized how unsteady her legs were going to feel in this precarious balance on his lap and chair. She tilted her head back and slightly sideways to give him better access to the skin of her neck, silently encouraging him to continue.