Warnings: Smut and kink, Very little plot.No spoilers
Disclaimer: I certainly do not own these people. They belong to the BBC.
There was no sound in the room, only the steady sound of breathing. The quiet touch of his fingers were cold against the heat of her inner thigh, and a small rational part of Rose’s mind wanted to know how things had descended to this. Why she was sitting in her bedroom chair? Why she was letting him do this to her? Why she, they were taking this risk, when they, she, both of them had pulled back before, so many, many times.
The subtle brush of his flesh against hers caused her to tighten her grip on the arms of her chair. The slow smile of victory in his eyes as he watched her movements grew. It reached his lips as she forced herself to unclench her fingers and her chin tilted remembering exactly how this started.
“I dare you Doctor, make me scream.” Glaring at him, ignoring the small voice that was warning her, but his careless words had her temper driven too high to care. Her emotions far too close to her skin; and the need, the want for him mixing, twinning with her frustration becoming a force inside her that she couldn’t restrain anymore, that she didn’t want to control anymore. Added to the fact of his throw away comment about how anybody and everybody could see that she…..
The pain and humiliation of his words that had led her to lose her temper so spectacularly still burnt inside her, but were fast becoming lost under the heat and need that was unfolding between them. As his finger glided up the inside of her thigh she could see his eyes had changed, smugness was slowly bleeding to a raw desire that before she had only ever glimpsed. Rose could feel the subtle shift in this game they were playing, racing running towards something that before they had always run from.
And as one hand was buried beneath her skirt, his other hand curled around hers his fingers sliding, knotting with hers. His thumb brushed soft against the palm of her hand sparking nerves that seemed connected from her palm to the liquid heat between her legs and only then did her breath begin to hitch.
Sex before had been simple and sweet, she had never played this game before, she had never wanted to. But she had always known that with the Doctor it wouldn’t the game of male and female that she knew that it would be very different, because it felt different; and then she couldn’t think but just react as she had to bite her tongue to stop her eyes from rolling back. Her nerves burning as the edge of his nail traced patterns softly against the saturated cotton of her knickers.
She felt the muscles in her bottom flex and clench. So badly did she want to move her hips, to tilt her hips, to spread her legs a little wider, press her aching clit against the promise of the friction that he offered fascinated at the dull blush that was stealing into the Doctor’s face, ensnared by the heated darkness of his eyes.
She felt her own lips part as she watched his tongue flick out and moisten his lips. The compulsion to lean forward and taste them, to feel them against her own, against her skin….
“I’m not boring you Rose, am I?” The calm of his voice broke through the mist of desire that almost had her leaning forward, and she realized that maybe some of the rules were the same. His face was guileless but those brown eyes of his were full of male pride, of promise; a power that she could never have something that seemed to transcend the species gap. And she felt her face burn as he purposively looked down at her nipples that were now pushed painfully against the restraint of her bra and top, as she had stared at his lips.
“Not at all Doctor. What about you, bored yet?” Her voice might have been rough and hoarse, but Rose managed her most patronizing smile, triumph ringing through her as she watched his features became that little bit sharper, and his eyes suddenly becoming slits of pure need as the power shifted her way.
