radicalize | (no subject)

When Lucy woke up to the sound of pouring rain, she'd sat around the treehouse, assuming that it would pass in an hour or two, tops. Only when it didn't show any signs of letting up -- around afternoon, she supposed, judging by the fact that she was starving -- did she start to worry a little, and by then, she couldn't wait any longer. She'd always known that there was some sense in keeping around the clothes she'd arrived in, though she hadn't thought she would ever wear them again; when she headed out of the treehouse, she had on her turtleneck and coat and scarf. It made her feel ridiculous, all those layers on what was usually a tropical island, but in the end, it turned out to be worth it.

It took longer than usual to get to Ryan's, and she was soaking wet when she got there, having had to cross practically the entire island to reach his hut. She'd known all those weeks ago that she ought to have gotten her own place, but no, she'd waited and wound up like this for her trouble. Brushing her wet hair back from her face, she knocked hard on his door with the other, practically praying he'd be there. There weren't many alternative places she could think of to stay, none half as comfortable as staying with Ryan, and she really did not want to be out in the rain any longer just then.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He wouldn't be the one to protest, that much was for certain. It was invitation enough for him. Breaking his wrist free of her grasp, Ryan slipped his hand beneath the fabric, smoothing over her skin to her waist. The position was all wrong. It kept them too far separate. He had half a mind just to pull her into his lap, but instead he edged backward, further onto the bed, tugging her after him, closer. His balance less precarious, he was free to lift a hand to the back of her neck, where it rested just a moment before sliding down her back. As he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his own, his hand beneath her shirt traveled higher, teasingly slow.

She followed his lead easily back onto the bed, back arching under his hand, her own, now freed, resting on his neck. Now that they were moving faster, she had no desire to slow down. It had been too long, she'd waited too long, and while she could be patient, if need be, she didn't want to. Being only half-dressed to begin with wasn't doing much to help that. They were close, but she wanted him closer; he was touching her, but she wanted him to touch her more. The only way she could say that, though, unwilling as she was to pull away to speak, was to deepen the kiss further, her other hand reaching to grasp the hem of his own shirt, though not yet moving underneath it.

Whether or not he got the message didn't quite matter. He trusted Lucy to let him know if he went too far, and until she did, if she did, he meant to keep going. He had no problem waiting, if that was what she wanted, if that was what was needed, but he sure as hell wasn't going to wait a moment longer than that, not if the moment was right. What he needed then was to keep touching her, keep feeling her beneath his hands, beneath his mouth, beneath him. Easing her down onto the bed, onto her back, Ryan leaned over her, his weight on one arm, a leg between both of hers. A little more certain of where he stood now, he let his hand slide higher, tracing between them as he kissed her, all his movements more relaxed now. As long as he could hold out, he intended to take his time and enjoy this.

For her part, there wasn't a too far that he could go to, and she was beginning to get the impression more and more that he was after the same thing she was here. At times, it surprised her that she'd waited this long already, but none of that mattered just then. All she could do was focus on his mouth over hers, and his hand between them, and she was more than content to do so. Eyes falling closed, she drew in a deep breath, her own fingers finally sliding up and under his shirt to press against the warm skin of his back, trying to bring him just a little closer without upsetting his balance. The last thing she needed to do now, with where this looked to be heading, was to make the whole situation suddenly awkward.

More than simply relaxed, he moved with a kind of confidence, fingers skimming over curves, his thumb brushing circles over her skin as he let himself be drawn closer. He wanted to be closer still. It seemed absurd, if distantly so, that he'd been so intent on getting her in dry clothes when now he just wished her out of them. Breaking away, he pulled back just far enough to look at her properly. "God, I want you," he murmured, affection mixing with desire. A moment later and he turned his attentions elsewhere, pressing a lingering kiss to her throat and trailing slowly downward, his hand sliding lower, following suit. There were a lot of things he might not have known how to put into words, but he could try, at least, to show her.