ALAN - An Alan Rickman fanfic

Chapter 17 - Lingering Sting

Hi! I'm so sorry the update took two weeks instead of my usual one, and I apologise in advance if that happens again. Writing requires full immersion and I haven't been able to lately because of other commitments, but I'm here and this story will continue! I've also been toying with various plot paths and have been undecided and you know how that can sometimes cause a halt in the writing flow. Thank you for understanding. I didn't want to write unless I could fully immerse myself and give this story and the readers what they deserve - a quality story. 

I hope you enjoy this chapter! (About 1000 words shorter than usual, but for a reason) (Rated M)

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Sleep - it was the last thing on my mind. Laying so very fitting in the nook of Alan's arm, sleep would only rob me of the few hours left in his company - precious moments wasted before he heads to the airport.

My hand that rests on his naked chest rises and falls to the pattern of him breathing, my nose graced by the scent of his after shave - spicy, comforting. Oh how I'm going to miss these small pleasures. I peek to Alan's shadow in the darkness that still allows me to see his features highlighted by the high rise glow of the large windowpane. I whisper his name.

"Hmm..." comes his sleepy hum, eyes closed.

"Could I keep one of your sweaters here with me?"

I love the way his lips form into a delicious, "Shhure," as he pulls me close to nestle into our nest.

It also meant that I would have something of his - a reason to keep on seeing each other providing of course that a millionaire cared enough for his sweater to be returned... Overthinking. Overthinking everything. Alan was so willing to let me fly free as if releasing a turtledove and yet this evening when I asked if we'd see each other again when he's back in New York, he said he was sure something could be arranged. It sounded so official, so...lacking in something that I can't quite put my finger on.

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Morning came all too soon rudely interrupted by the snooze button. Leaning across Alan's bare chest, I swat the alarm to silence. His body - so warm and comforting beneath the sheets, relaxed, nude. I lean over him, bare breast to his broad chest, my smooth legs running against  his stiff morning erection, lips running languid pattens with my hands on his chest. My curls that hang loose are swept back by Alan's gentle hand as he lets out a sleepy sigh. His smooth masculine hand runs down my torso and smooths over my naked bottom that he so loves. I arch my back just so he can run those fingers of his round my backside and between my...

Mmmmmmm good morning. I close my eyes with a soft hum to his gentle fingering, still half asleep on his chest. How will I ever cope without this glorious wakeup call that he's spoilt me with each time we spent the night together. Two glorious thick fingers slowly slip deeper until I'm sat in his hand, gently writhing under his pleasure. As smooth as can be, Alan turns on his side to face me and grants me the pleasure of his inches soon after - thick warm inches slowly filling my tight wet walls. Nothing to be heard in the darkness but the effects of me enjoying deep sleepy sex. With my hands to Alan's shoulders, I wrap my thigh up high around his waist. Alan's hand doesn't leave my bottom, his lips attach to my pert nipples for an age making me seep around his length. What does he think when he takes me so tenderly? Is he already feeling the withdrawal of our departure and holding onto every last moment, or is he simply a man enjoying his breakfast? Last night our sex was intense - this morning slow, beautiful. Minor details, and yet to me oh so significant. It said, I'll miss you, these wonderful mornings...

A while later post perfect morning sex, from the comfort of the warm crumpled bed sheets, I watch Alan dress - his crisp shirt is still untucked, bare feet brushing across the carpet, sexy slightly disheveled hair. I can almost see the cogs turning in his head when he stops to remember something, changes direction and heads into the bathroom to pack a misplaced item. Half dressed and a little disorganised, I have never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome. I hate the thought of having to say goodbye to him today. I hold the pillow tightly to my side feeling his abandonment of our second round. Alan catches me looking as he tucks in his shirt and puts on his watch.