behold a dream .｡.:*☆ pink floyd imagines

david #1

{ mail for 1-800-NORDIK }

the lighter clicks as david begins to burn the lavender candles on the nightstand.

"i'm rather surprised they provided these," he tells you, slipping the lighter back onto the table and smiling. his grin is so warm and comforting, despite the thousand insecurities that are racing through your mind.

it's your honeymoon and you're set on consummating your marriage, but nervousness still prickles at your skin.

david moves over top of you and surrounds your body with his. he gives a light peck to your forehead and pulls back to look at your face when you don't reciprocate the affection. "we can wait," he suddenly remarks, pushing some hair back behind his ear. it's always surprised you how well he can read you.

"no . . . no, i'm ready, i took my pills and everything," you assure him, settling your hands on his arms, feeling the heat of his skin under your palms. "i'm ready to do this with you."

he smiles again and brings his leg between yours, the denim rubbing at your thighs and bunching the fabric of your flowered dress. "alright, sweetie. slow," he breathes and you begin to undress, his blue eyes intent as he watches. he's seen you naked several times, but your fingers still trip over the strap of your bra like it's the first.

he helps with your panties, knuckles tickling your stomach and hips, and his long hair sweeps across your shoulders as he lowers himself onto one forearm.

"my beautiful dear. my wife," he whispers, taking you in like an observer in an art museum. you sweep your thumb over his rose lips and kiss him. "now me."

with your dress and undergarments cast off the bed, you reach and tug the hem of his t-shirt up. he collapses for a moment to pull the sleeves from his arms, and the contact of skin spurns a wave of pleasure and a gasp from your mouth.

he chuckles deep into your neck, giving a lick and a nibble that sends your head back into the pillow. "you're predictable," he teases and you slip off the shirt.

david rises holy in the purple sunset wash of the villa's bedroom and kneels. you watch, hands achy for his tan chest, eyes consuming the action of his fingers on the zipper of his jeans. his gaze shoots to you, heavy and sultry under his brow.

a light laugh catches your throat. watching him, which you often do in the shower, the pool, or in slumber, simple moments of open beauty, is like watching a creation or a discovery. perhaps it's the joy of being married, but you're in awe as he sheds his jeans and underwear.

as david approaches, you mumble his name, and imagine, arousal burning through you, what it will be like to finally be joined with him. he kisses deeply, preventing your escape with a hand on your neck and one on your stomach. his lips pull at yours, then your breasts, travelling down to the quivering place beneath your ribcage. his fingers move inside of you, the sensation fuchsia and blurred. your grip traps along the curve of his face, tightening in tandem with the slow, slipping song he drives into you.

you lick your palm and digits and reach for him blindly between your bodies, the feeling of his erection heavy and warm on the inside of your thigh. he's desperately close to you; you think you might crumble before even wrapping your fingers around him and drawing him to pleasure.

his breath comes shaky from his mouth and his eyelids lower. it's a dense lull, the continued, mutual pattern of your hands, until finally he shakes his head and gusts, "i can't go anymore. if i'm not coming inside of your sweet-"

"oh, i," amongst it all, your blood vessels dilate underneath your cheeks and you're in an abyss of longing desire. david begins to readjust, pulling from your grasp and transferring his palm to your shoulder. "i'm ready, too."

his fingers leave, coated and sticky with your essence. he looks at you briefly, placing his thumb at the corner of your mouth and breathing thickly.

"yes," you nod and lift your hips. he pushes his thumb into your mouth and you lick at it, distracting yourself in the moment he enters you and pulls you close to him. your back curves limply as he sits on his knees, leaning over you, savoring the feeling of your warmth around him. the little pinch-pain of the first time vanished quickly and is now replaced with the flowering blossom of wholeness.

david and you take a moment of stillness, before he hums and begins to move with a delicious pattern.

"jesus," you gasp. "that..."

rough-voiced, he asks, "feel perfect?"

"perfect." you take him with each thrust and the pressure rises quickly, even more so when his lips claim yours and his fingers massage your nipple.

just the touch you've been craving, the familiar warm wet of his tongue, and the increased speed of his hips is enough to bring the end.

you call to him, seeing him far and non-physical in your mind, lilac and rose-gold, all burning and begging, when you come.

he clutches your head and hips with urgency, whimpers seeping from between his lips onto your cheek - praises and moans - that follow you into drowsiness after your orgasm.

he climaxes deeply within you, exhaling and heaving, and loses his grip of you to the soft pillows. david's sweating palms pull the sheets as he separates your bodies and falls on top of you.

a lethargic arm comes to find his hair and you bury your fingers, brushing his scalp. he says your name to you and turns his head to the side, breath tickling your breast:

"i am painfully in love with you."

"and i with you, david," you manage. the sunset has dulled to a quiet purple. the moon sends large shadows of foliage outside splashing onto the villa's ceiling.

"oh, good," he says briefly with a murmur. outside, the waves crash into the craggy beach. inside, you could stay in david's arms until the end of time.