Barely Skin Deep

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a/n: kicking things off with a healthy rated M.

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Chapter 5: Barely Skin Deep

She woke up to his head between her legs - specifically, to the sensation of his mouth on her clit - and she attempted to bolt upright, but his arm shot out with an impossible quickness, his palm pressing against the flat of her stomach to shove her back against the pillow.

"Your alarm went off," he commented offhandedly, the words aimed carelessly into the curve her thigh. "Are you aware it's three in the morning?"

"Damn," she muttered, fighting a whimper as he pushed her knees further apart, letting his tongue drag against her slit. "I have to - "

"Nope," he interrupted, giving her another curt shove as she tried to sit up. "If you're going to wake me up at three, you'll have to pay the price."

"The price being what, exactly?" she asked, squirming a little as he used his fingers to spread her wider, yanking her hips down with an effortless, casual brusqueness to pull her closer, burying his face against her. "Are you - " she gasped, "holy shit - "

He hummed something she had to assume was amusement against her clit and she reached down, tightening her fingers in his hair. "I - don't have a lot of time," she managed, closing her eyes, "I have to - ah, god, what are you - "

He grazed his teeth against her clit before hitching his shoulders under her legs, his hand sliding from her stomach to press against her hips as he offered her something she estimated to be a shrug; some kind of brisk indication of nonchalance, an almost arrogant assertion of believe me, I don't care.

"I have to" - she stopped, letting out a sound she'd never made before; something like a choked out wail as he dug his tongue in deeper, devouring her, as her brain, her clinical surgeon's brain, slowly shut down, devolved to a loop of yes and more and how how how - fucking how is this so fucking good - "I have to go to work - and I, oh - "

She came with an almost alarming force, a rush of something so achingly potent that it struck her first as pain, a moan erupting from her lips as the tension he'd built inside her shattered, bursting free in a wave of holy shit, holy shit, holy shit -

"Listen," he murmured, her legs still draped over his shoulders as he made his way up her torso, "it's fucking early, Granger. I don't make a habit of being awake unless I'm getting something out of it."

Don't do it, her mind said primly, but she could scarcely bring herself to focus.

"Well," she breathed out, giving in, "I have to get home to shower, so if it's quick - "

"I don't do quick," he shot back, and she registered insult in his tone as he slid against her, bending her nearly in half to take her beaded nipple in his mouth and give it what she suspected was a semi-punishing bite, her breath escaping through her teeth in a hiss of unexpected enjoyment. "You'll get to work on time."

"I guess," she began, and he sat up, placing her ankles delicately on his shoulders as he angled the tip of his cock against her, a smirk slipping over his lips as he watched her gaze travel across the tattooed expanse of his chest and abs. She looked again at the crest - Sanctimonia Vincet Semper - and then watched as the scripted letters on his knuckles traveled back to her clit.

"You guess?" he prompted, the smirk only fading as he slid inside her, a flicker of satisfaction on his face that manifested in the tightening of his jaw, the motion of his throat as he swallowed. "You guess - "

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