scots_wolf | Saffron, after Cubefall

Smart thinking, too; even before the door is closed, she's gotten him out of his shirt, hands smoothing over the expanse of his chest, her face tilting upward to place another kiss to his mouth.

"I don't know what's come over me," she says, fingertips digging into his skin, her teeth dragging across his lower lip.

Residual primal instinct, perhaps.

He's tugging at her clothes, eagerly, as her fingers tangle in her pelt.

"Over me as well," he assures her.

She's more than happy to help him, crossing her arms over her chest to pull off today's dress - a short, simple black dress, kicking it to one side as it hits the floor.

Her fingers curl underneath the waist of his trousers.

"It's like I have to, need to get closer," she murmurs, finding her way to the divan in the semi-darkness, pulling him along by her grip on his pants.

"As close as we can," he says, running his hands down her back.

She spins them around, nudging him to lay down on his back, and then makes quick work of his pants, roughly tugging them down long, muscular legs.

She straddles his hips, bending down to him, cupping his face in both hands and kissing him deeply.

"Closer than this, even."

Urquhart likes being made short work of like this.

She can probably feel just how much.

She has no complaints, none at all, judging by the way she chooses to take exactly what she wants.

And that, in this case, means him. She doesn't waste any time in positioning herself over him and sliding down, releasing a soft gasp.

Her fingernails dig in, sharp tiny pinpricks into his chest, as her hips rock back and forth,

"Saffron," he murmurs. "Woman..."

His hands grab her hips in a strong grip, pulling her down, and his hips buck up, delighted, pushy, greedy.

He thrusts deep, hips rising up to meet her, and it elicits a quiet hiss of breath as her eyes squeeze shut, solely concentrating on the sensation of him and nothing else.

His name falls from her lips, followed by a stream of her second language, quiet curses and moans as her hips set the pace: quick, hard, and none too gentle.

Urquhart leans back, his pale hair tangling on the dark divan covers, moaning and pleading, thrusting up, and thoroughly enjoying being ridden hard like this.

It's good that he enjoys it; otherwise, she might not be able to rein herself in.

She bites down on her lower lip to muffle a moan seconds before a louder one breaks through, rocking back and forth on him.

Urquhart moans, bucks and thrashes, as hungry for this as she is.

He's almost there already.

"Perfect," she moans, bending down to him, her hands bracing on his shoulders as her mouth finds his in a hungry, almost bruising kiss.

Her thighs tighten around his waist, and she unravels over him.

He spills into her, giving a loud moan against her mouth.

"Yessss!" he hisses.

In the aftermath, she doesn't move to separate herself from him.

Just collapses on top of him, breathless, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as she savors the proximity.

His chest is broad, comfortable, solid and hairy. She's welcome to relax there.

His hand goes up to touch her hair. Other than that, he doesn't move.

It's a place she doesn't mind laying her head - at least until she can remember how to speak again.

When she does, she stretches lazily against him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his throat.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He chuckles, his chest moving underneath her.

"Hurt? How that? No, you didn't!"

She can hear his laughter, the low rumble in his chest, and it's just one more reminder of his reassuring presence.

She doesn't even try to fight back her smile.

"Now I think I'm sufficiently exhausted - for a while."

She briefly lifts her head to look at him.

"That might have been one of the best yet."

"Yes!" he says, with a deep contented sigh.

Her lips find another place on his neck to kiss, slow and soft.

"You're something else, baobei."

"Than everybody else?" Urquhart says, amused. "Glad to hear it! So are you, incidentally."

"Of course," she murmurs, gently nipping at his jaw.

"I wouldn't bother with you if you weren't."

Urquhart stretches, then lifts his head a little to kiss her.

She returns the kiss, surprisingly tender in contrast to their earlier roughness, and then finally rolls off him to lay at his side.

"How do you feel now?"

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