The Real You

Alan's Kitten

"I can't believe I bedded a Conservative voter" Alan mused, smiling as he watched me accommodate myself on the vast expanse of his king-sized bed.

"Alan, if I were able to move, I'd get up and smack you" I answered, lazily rolling onto my stomach, folding my hands underneath my head and resting my chin on my hands.

The truth was I felt so perfectly at ease, unable to move a single muscle. My entire body was languid, relaxed and aching-but in a good way-reminding me of our strenuous activity from the last hour or so.

"Well, if you're into that sort of thing I'd be more than happy to oblige" Alan countered, eyes trailing my wild and messy hair as it fell around my shoulders, following the path of the exposed skin of my shoulder and my naked back, legs tangled in the crumpled sheets.

Rolling my eyes I just sighed in content, unable to stop the blush from creeping up my cheeks at Alan's heated gaze. My eyes traveled his tall frame, one strong arm thrown lazily across his stomach, the other clasped behind his head. Judging from the smirk playing across his lips my earlier comment about not being able to move had been some sort of reaffirmation of his manliness.

Way to boost the man's ego, Sam, my subconscious reprimanded me.

"Well at least we didn't cremate the food" I said, ignoring his comment and sniffing the air for any tell-tale signs and the smell of smoke that I had expected when we'd completely forgotten about the food.

"Finally something justifying buying that freakishly expensive oven with a timer and god know what other gadgets" Alan shrugged with a cheeky smile.

"You definitely seem to know your way around in the kitchen" I commented as I took in the sight that was Alan Rickman.

I mean.....who wouldn't?

Barely believing it myself I was trying to engrave every detail into my brain, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating or making up any of this. I could hardly believe what had happened, let alone trust my judgement on the apparent fact that someone like him would actually hook up with someone like me.

"Among...other things" Alan countered as he watched my cheeks heat up at seeing this playful side of his. It was truly adorable, and, quite frankly, really sexy.

"Who knew a Labour supporter such as yourself would prove such an insatiable man in the bedroom?" I teased right back, flashing him a toothy grin.

"You're lucky that lovable smile of yours is so enchanting, Samantha, otherwise I'd have to make sure you took back those words...." he replied as he shifted underneath the sheets.

"Any particular way you had in mind?" I told him, biting my lip in a teasing manner, causing his eyes to darken visibly as I drew my bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling on it.

"Bloody hell Samantha, the things you do to me" he breathed with a groan, shaking his head.

"You always call me that. Samantha. Never Sam....why? Everyone else does...." I questioned, putting aside my teasing manners for the moment.

"Because it was the name given to you at birth. It suits you perfectly. Why would I call you anything else?" Alan answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But calling me Sam is just a term of endearment...." I shrugged, unsure why I was pursuing this particular line of questioning.

"Oh....but I have a term of endearment for you, Samantha" he told me with a wicked smile, eyes flaring with unadulterated desire.

And with those words he leaned in, resting most of his weight on his elbow as he leaned towards me, the mattress dipping under his added weight as he shifted his body towards me. His hand was reaching for me as my breathing quickened, heat pooling low in my belly as his hand brushed away my wild mane of hair and traced a delicate path down my spine. His fingers were dragging themselves along my already over-sensitized skin, causing my body to arch into his touch unconsciously as a mewling sound escaped the back of my throat.