Work Text
Shirtless in front of Lucy, Tim stepped toward her slowly. The tension was palpable on both sides. Their eyes spoke more than their mouths ever could. And as he took one final step, Lucy realized they were both thinking the same thing. "We shouldn’t," she said, aware that her eyes and body were screaming the opposite. "I know," he replied, fully conscious that he knew nothing, that he was no longer in control. Lucy hesitated for the briefest moment, and though her mind told her no, her body betrayed her once again. She moved toward him, stopping just inches from his lips. Oh, how strong the temptation was—to close the distance, to give in to the longing that had been building for weeks. Just millimeters away from becoming one. His hand rested on her waist, their breaths were shallow, their hearts racing. Everything was there. Everything. The longing, the desire, the love… everything. What might seem like a cry from the body was, in truth, a cry from the heart. "We shouldn’t," she repeated, her lips brushing against his unintentionally. And as if she had suddenly come to her senses, Lucy pulled away. Without a word, she placed the bandage she had been holding on his neck, looked at him one last time, and left the room.Later. Perched on his kitchen counter, Tim poured himself another glass of rum, replaying the events of the evening in his mind. Long before he heard the knocks on his front door, Kojo had barked. Tim ordered the dog to stay put and walked over to open the door, wondering who could be bothering him this late. When he opened it, he was struck with a sense of déjà vu. Lucy was standing there, in the same dress as earlier—stunning. And before he could say a word, Lucy slipped past him and entered. Scanning the room quickly, she placed her bag on the counter, poured herself a drink, downed it in one swift motion, then set the glass back down, resting both hands on the counter. "When I said " we shouldn’t" …" Tim stepped closer, stopping just inches behind her. Lucy turned, bringing them face-to-face. "I meant not now, not here," she said, placing a hand on his chest. "Kiss me…" she added.Tim cupped her face in his hands before leaning in to kiss her. Kissing her as if tomorrow didn’t exist, Lucy couldn’t hold back a soft moan. Oh, how she had missed this feeling. Her hands gripped his shirt, her fingers slipping between the buttons to brush against his skin. The touch was brief but intense. He kissed her for long minutes, forgetting where they were, forgetting the past, the present—but certainly not the future. Tim let his hands slide from her face, down her shoulders and arms, sending shivers through her body, until they reached her wrists. With a steady motion, he placed Lucy’s hands flat on the counter, making her smile as memories of all the times he had done the same flooded back. Tim pulled away just enough to admire her, taking her in like something precious. His lips trailed over her face, brushing against her cheek before finding her earlobe—one of her weaknesses. Then, they traveled down her neck, each touch igniting something deep inside her. One of his hands lingered on her dress, his fingers tracing the line of her neckline, barely skimming the skin of her chest like a whisper of a caress. He continued downward, toying with the knot of her dress. Not yet. Not now. His hand ventured further, slipping beneath the fabric, making contact with the soft skin of her thigh. Lucy lost control of her own reactions, her head tilting back as another moan escaped her lips. His hand moved up to her waist, rediscovering the body he had memorized, remembering the warmth, the softness of the skin he had kissed for hours on end just months before. His other hand impatiently reached for the knot of her dress, finally undoing it before sliding to the other side of her body. Slowly, his hands traveled upward, grazing her chest, her collarbones, her shoulders, using his fingers to let the fabric slip from her body, falling in a pool at their feet. Tim took a moment to look at her, to devour her with his eyes. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her breath came too fast. Biting his lower lip, he stepped in again and kissed her—softly, deeply, lovingly—before lifting her onto the counter. Lucy parted her legs, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him as close as she possibly could.One by one, she unfastened the buttons of his shirt, placing her lips on his chest before finally removing that now-obsolete piece of fabric. Wrapping her legs around his waist, their two chests pressed against each other, Lucy let her hands roam over the skin of his back, digging her nails into his flesh before trailing them up to his shoulders. And as if he hadn’t yet savored enough of her skin, Tim let his lips wander down to her chest, forcing them to separate. He hadn’t forgotten what she liked or how she liked it. He orchestrated a dance between his mouth, his tongue, and his teeth over each breast, making her lose her mind, her trembling hands continuing to explore his body. And oh, how he loved feeling her like this—so vulnerable, so consumed by desire and pleasure. He could spend hours working every inch of her body, taking her far, far away. Lucy reached the barrier of his pants. With a confident motion, she unbuttoned them and used both hands to push them down as far as she could, leaving Tim to take care of the last few inches himself. Their lips found each other again in a feverish, sensual dance, their hands exploring every possible inch. Control was slipping further away, as was breath itself—their desire had reached its peak. Without needing to say a word, their bodies moved in sync. Lucy wrapped her legs around Tim, and he lifted her off the counter, stepping confidently toward his bedroom. And when the door shut behind them, Tim pressed Lucy against it. The surprise was anything but unpleasant—for either of them. They could both feel the raw hunger in the other’s body. The desire was far too intense to remain standing against a door. He stepped back, turned once more, walked to his bed, and laid Lucy down on the mattress. Above her, he locked eyes with hers—silently understanding what she wanted, what she needed at that moment. He kissed her again, letting his mouth and tongue trail lower, and lower still, until he reached his destination. The last piece of fabric disappeared in an instant, and Lucy let out a breathless “oh” as his mouth connected with the inside of her thighs. And God, it was good—soft, intoxicating. Her head was already spinning. Her hands clenched at the sheets until Tim intertwined his fingers with one of hers. She was incapable of making a sound when she reached the peak of her pleasure. Tim slowly made his way back up her body, devouring her with kisses. Lucy lifted herself up to kiss him, taking control. Making him lose all composure, she slid off his boxers, pushed him down onto the mattress, then straddled him. She took a moment to admire him before kissing him with all the tenderness she could muster. The friction between their bodies gave her the confidence she needed to become one with him. Within seconds, he was inside her, his hands resting on her hips to guide her. They paused, taking in the intensity of their connection. And when Lucy moved again, she locked eyes with his. Tim let his hands wander over her curves, each movement sending waves of forgotten pleasure through their bodies. And then, craving even more closeness, Tim sat up, pulling her against him, deepening their intimacy. Pressed against each other, giving in to these familiar rhythms, kissing whenever their breath allowed, it didn’t take long before Lucy clung to him, burying her head in the crook of his neck, surrendering completely—both of them reaching the point of no return together. As Lucy caressed his back, Tim placed soft kisses on her shoulder, trying to give their racing hearts a reason to slow down. And with a foolish smile on her lips, Lucy leaned toward his ear. “I love you.” Locking eyes with her, Tim took a deep breath. “I love you more.” And then, he held her tight, as if she might disappear. They both knew the road ahead was still long, that perhaps they should have started with a conversation, but their love was uncontrollable. Uncontrollable to the point of needing, viscerally, to find each other again after months of deprivation.