Claudia/Barney - The Wedding - How It Could Have Happened
IO and I decided to take a stab at Coulda Should Woulda with Claudia and Barney. What if Claudia had left the bar with Barney before Lily had stepped in to stop him with threats of ball and eye feeding?
In addition to that...we answer the question...how would Barney really objectify a friend without really hurting her.
Warnings: Smexxx, Light Bondage, Light Pain/Pleasure elements, Language
"I'm 28 years old... and I've only ever been with one man," she says, and her fingers run along the glass of vodka cranberry and she sniffles in that adorable way of hers.
It's almost too much. She's practically a virgin!
She looks tired, weepy. He's got to judge a fine line here between getting the girl completely insensible and getting her into that place where she's just gonna go for it.
He tells her it's all gonna be okay. He snuggles up next to her, their shoulders bumping; wanting to keep physical contact so that when he kisses her she'll be okay with it. He even slides his fingers through hers and grins. "Hey, you wanna get outta here, babe?"
If they don't leave soon, the other guys might come back and scupper his plans to corrupt this ravishing innocent. Look at her. Stuart doesn't deserve her.
--
Claudia looks up at him, mascara smudging the outer rim of her eyes. His words are like a get away car. A get away from this wedding that's coming undone by the minute and it's all Ted's fault.
/Ted./
If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be sobbing in a bar right now. Barney wouldn't need to sitting here trying to make her feel better. And she wouldn't need to be thinking that she deserved a break from fucking Tahitian Vanilla frosting and terrible flower arrangements.
"Where would we go?" She sniffles, picking up a cocktail napkin and dotting her eyes.
--
He pretends to think about it. "You know what you deserve? You deserve to go see a movie, like some light hearted comedy, and then have one of your oldest friends take you out shopping... Would you like that, sweetie?" He gives her his best encouraging smile. "A girl like you deserves to be spoiled... C'mon? We can get a cab outside..."
Will she take the bait? He has absolutely no intention of taking her shopping.
--
"Shopping?" Claudia echoes, tone edging towards anger as her fingers tighten around his, gripping flesh and bones. "I just dropped $800 on a Vera Wang wedding dress, which I will NOT be getting to wear tomorrow because the biggest douche bag in New York decided he's too in love with his single life to marry me and to top it all off, his even bigger douche of a friend is still singing a merry tune instead of rotting in a sidewalk off Central Park somewhere."
She inhales sharply, lungs stinging from the air and the alcohol.
"You wanna get me out of here, Barney? I expect you to do better than that."
--
He leans back a little under the force of her scorn. Wow, maybe this is why Steward managed to bag a nine? She's got the crazy, crazy eyes. But hey, crazy-eyes-sex is number 8 in his top 10 kinds of risky sex. So he shrugs and grins. "Champagne cocktails at my place?" He gives her a direct look and grins. "Take out your frustration on a guy who'll never say no?"
--
She blinks twice, trying to comprehend the implications behind his question, and she falters. Anger dissipating from her eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly. "I...I'm not usually this...not this person. I swear there's a monster trying to crawl out my ass with all this wedding planning that's going to destroy everyone and everything in a fifteen mile radius."
She picks up her glass, swallowing down what's left of her vodka cranberry.
"And....champagne cocktails sound...lovely."
--
She's got that slightly spaced-out expression on her face, the one they all have, when they're trying to rationalize whether he actually said what he just said, and if he /did/ say it, whether or not he’s joking.
His grin doesn't falter as he takes her arm to steady her as she stands up and helps her out of the bar. She smells good - her perfume's not overpowering, she gives off that air of desperation that he loves so much. Plus, she's totally hot.
Today couldn't have turned out any better if it tried.
--
She lets him guide her into the backseat of cab, trusting him to keep her steady, keep her from unraveling. The worn leather of the seat feels comforting, rubbing against the soft, nylon tights covering her legs.
"Thanks, Barney. For being my friend right now. Especially since Lily didn't come to see me like she promised," she murmurs, words slurring together. "No one does what they promise anymore."
--
Barney sits back, an arm draped casually around her shoulders. "Yeah, the mendacity of this place... it sucks hard." Turns towards her. "It's like you can't trust anyone anymore, right?"
His eyes roam over her body while she stairs blankly at the back of the cabby’s head.
--
His arm...
His eyes...
They should trigger red flags, but they don't. They just feel like an extension of the hug from before. An extension of his friendship, of his caring. He wouldn't be sitting here beside her if he didn't care.
"Well, I certainly can't trust /Ted./ And I can't trust Stuart either."
Her fingers slide over her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles that aren't there.
"But you know, since the wedding's off and I've kinda ruined your chances for picking up a pretty girl...I'll make sure that you get someone out of the deal. I've got this friend named Liz who can pull off a strapless better than anyone I know."
--
He watches her fingers playing over the swell of her thighs beneath her skirt. He loves how feminine she is - the way she does her hair, the way she dresses. It just makes him itch to push her back on the faux-leather seat and stick his head between her legs.
"Hey babe, I'll be Liz don't hold a candle to you.” he slides his hand over the back of hers.
--
His touch sends an unexpected tingle through her veins, and she bites her lip, looking down to see his fingers so dangerously close to skin, so dangerously close to touching her thigh. And she feels a small twinge of guilt for wanting to let him get closer.
"Liz is a Pilates instructor..." she offers weakly, as if mentioning her friend's profession will make all the difference in the world, as if it will change the fact that Barney is paying more attention to her body than Stuart ever did, as if it will erase the fact that she kinda likes having this sort of attention right now even though her wedding is supposed to be tomorrow.
--
His fingers move, imperceptibly, so that he can push them between hers, spreading hers wide. It's a gesture, a promise, a way to show her his intentions. He grins.
"Wow... Is she way flexible?" He laughs. "Gotta get me a piece of that..." But it's Claudia he's looking at, Claudia he's curled around, Claudia who's got his full attention.
--
Her teeth scrape lightly over her bottom lip, and she laughs helplessly. "Incredibly flexible..."
Every nerve is on fire, every inch of her feels like it's hovering on a dangerous edge as his fingers get closer and closer to the apex of her thighs, as his hands spread over hers like a spider web.
"Barney..."
She wants to ask him what his plans are for real, wants him to get her permission first, because something tells her that it's more than just champagne cocktails and friendly banter.
--
A smile spreads across his lips and he leans in a tiny bit. His fingers hover, perilously close to the nylon-covered thighs - so close that he can feel the warmth of her.
"Yeah baby?"
--
"I've really only ever been with one man before..." Claudia blurts, and then instantly regrets it because it sounds way too much like an invitation. Sounds way too much like she wants him to push things further.
And she does....
But she can't...because that would be slutty and dirty and wrong and it hasn't even been that long since Stu slammed the door in her face.
"And I'm not...not really that flexible..."
--
He does his best impression of soft-shocked-ness. "Oh wow... Baby... no... You've just been taken advantage of way too much..." He presses forward again, just a tiny bit. "What you need right now is a friend, and a shoulder to cry on... and some ridiculously expensive champagne? Right?"
Smiles his devilish smile.
--
The tears nearly spring to her eyes again, but she brushes them away before they have a chance to fall, nodding her head in agreement.
"Right."
The cab pulls up to a stop outside Barney's apartment complex, and she lets herself out, glancing up to see the sun glint off the top windows of the buildings. It's still so bright out, still so sunny...
--
He follows her out then takes her hand, leading her into his building. The security guard gives him a knowing look as they pass by into the elevator.
He watches her.
Claudia looks a little flustered, maybe even still a little angry. That's okay. He can work with angry. Angry sex is good.
He stands close to her in the elevator, playing the supportive friend. He smiles. He nods. He says the right things. It's a mask he's worn a thousand times.
--
In the elevator, she talks, words tumbling out before she can pull them back. She talks about Stu, about Ted, about her father. Christ, he's gonna kill her when he finds out about this.
She swears she sees a flicker in Barney's eyes at the mention of her dad. The kinda flicker that men get when something trips their fancy.
But she doesn't pursue it because he's Barney...and he's been her friend for at least a year now.
--
He can't help it; his interest focuses into a needlepoint when she starts talking about her father. Daddy issues? Hot. He has to fight the grin that threatens to spread across his face. He has to keep the mask of sympathetic interest firmly in place.
"Wow, sounds like you had a pretty hard time growing up, right? I mean, seems like nothing you could ever do was enough."
--
She nods, feeling a bit surprised by his succinct insight. The elevator door slides open and he guides her towards his front door. "It's not like there is anything I can do about it now, so why don't we just have some of those champagne cocktails now and figure the rest of life out some other time?"
She's not here because she once to have a psychological discussion. She's here because he offered alcohol and an ear...as well as a comforting touch apparently, since he can't seem to take his hands off of her for a second.
--
He follows her out of the elevator and opens the door to his apartment, gesturing for her to go inside. "Hey, sure..." He grins. "You wanna make y'self comfortable baby?"
He grabs a bottle of cognac from the bar then circles around the kitchen into the refrigerator for the champagne he always keeps on ice. He quickly and expertly pops the cork, mixing them classic champagne cocktails with a dash of angostura and a sugar cube each, then returns to the couch.
She's tense - he can see it in the lines of her body, in the tension in her frame. Tense and anxious. Well, he can do something about that.
--
The leather cushions of the sofa mould to her skin, stick the underside of her thighs. Barney brings her the drink and she takes it from him, gingerly taking a sip. To the best of her knowledge, she's never before set foot in Barney's apartment and it feels strange...unfamiliar.
She turns her head slightly and grimaces at the sight of the life-size storm trooper staring back at from the window.
"You have a very nice place."
--
He grins as he sinks down on to the couch next to her. "I know. It's awesome!" He clinks his glass against hers. "Just one of the perks of working for... well, you don't want to know about that, do you?" He gives her a look, like a fox that can see a hole in the fence of the chicken coup. "How's the champagne?"
--
She takes another sip, letting the bubbles tingle against her tongue. It's a strong drink, but not enough to make her cough. She offers him a small smile, and a barely noticeable shrug. "It helps."
Her eyes meet up with his, and she can't help but wonder what he's really thinking right now. Barney had always struck her as a man who could get lost in his thoughts without even realizing it.
--
He leans in a little. "Wow, babe. You look still look way too tense. Hey, I got an idea!" He beams. "Why don'tya kick off your shoes and lie back, let uncle Barney give you an awesome shoulder and neck massage?"
--
A ghost of a smile plays across her lips as she reaches down to unclasp the straps of her high heels. It's kinda funny hearing him call himself Uncle Barney, and in some dark corner of her brain, she can feel this weird tingle stir up images of what else Uncle Barney could do to take care of her...
But thinking like that? With her engagement ring still sparkling on her finger? It just feels dirty so she pushes the thought aside and twists her body to the side, giving him better access to her neck and shoulders.
--
He moistens his lips. With her turned around, the caring, sweet expression he's wearing can just fade away. Instead, his hands get to work - his long, clever fingers playing across her shoulders, working the knots of tension they find there. He wants to hear her moan, softly at first, just foreplay really.
--
His touch is like magic soothing away aches and pains in ways the masseuse at the spa can't accomplish. She hisses in pleasure when he hits a sore spot along the ridge of her shoulder blade and arches her back against him as he works the knot down to nothing.
"God, Barney..."
--
Oh yeah... her words, breathy, seductive, they're like music to his ears. He wants her begging him; he wants her crying out his name while he's buried between her thighs.
But there's a time and a place. He smiles and works his way across her neck with one hand. The other sweeps down her back, over her bra-strap, doing nothing more than briefly drawing attention to it, indicating it, letting his fingers linger.
"You know... to really get on in there, it's better to go for skin on skin?" He chuckles. "I mean... in a massage sense of course."
Of course. He grins wolfishly. At first, anyway.
--
Her body reacts instinctively, pulling away from him like his magic hands have suddenly produced fire and burned her.
"I...Barney, I don't know about that. What about...Stuart?"
--
He doesn't even pause, letting his hands run smoothly across her back. "Stuart... Stuart... Oh right... that's the guy who doesn't want to marry you? What's he got to do with this? Come on Claudia, he's clearly an idiot... And trust me when I say, I give /great/ massage. No funny business. Promise?" He lets her go and scootches around so she can see his face, giving her a comical puppy-dog sad-face.
--
Claudia exhales sharply, hating herself for knowing that Barney's right about Stuart, right about being good at this massage thing, and right about making her feel better. And if that means she has to shed an article or two...
"Does it have to be /everything/?"
--
He blinks at her, confused for a minute. Then he realises what she's saying and chuckles. "What? No! Wow... what kind of guy do you take me for... You think you can just waltz into my apartment, drink my champagne, birthday-suit up and seduce me? Do you Claudia?" He laughs. "Nah, just lose the sparkly... cardigan.. thingy?" He winks.
--
With hesitant fingers, she slowly works the clasps on her sweater, reminding herself that this is no different from that day trip to the spa last year and letting that Italian muscle god, Anton work his magic on her spinal cord. After the last comes undone, she slides the sweater off her shoulders, a blush rising in her cheeks as his eyes fall down on the ivory white ruffles decorating the edge of her bra.
--
The second she whips off that sweater, his hands are on her again, kneading her supple flesh, caressing her, hard, then soft. He inches closer. He wants to drive her wild, wants her body taking over, wants her to know that she's got no defence against him. Not ever. He wants her begging him.
She's only been WITH ONE OTHER GUY. She's practically a virgin. She's technically innocent. How could he resist?
--
Her body feels overwhelmed by sensations and every inch of her tingles with something new and different as his fingers dig into her skin and make it surrender.
He's hard. He's fast. He's soft. He's gentle.
And with each passing minute, she can feel a radiant heat growing inside her core and blossoming across her entire body.
--
He leans forward and breathes her in, the warm, milky scent of her bare skin. Boy, she is way hotter semi-naked than he'd hoped. She's way hotter than any chick he's been with in a long time.
"Hey sad eyes? How's that feel? That feel good?" He drawls the final word into a seductive purr.
--
She moans softly, feeling him hit all the right spots and barely noticing when his fingers brush over the clasp of her bra or slide a little too far down her back. And as she surrenders more to him, as any protests she might have had fall away, she can feel him become more and more daring with his massage techniques.
"Not sad anymore," she murmurs, heady from the relaxation seeping into her muscles, into her blood.
--
He grins. His lips are an inch away from her skin now and he moistens his lips, drawing her back into his arms, his fingers moving up her neck, either side of her face and through her hair. The pads of his fingers massage her temples, working their way across her scalp until her back is flush with his chest. Yeah, that's it. He can feel her becoming his, inch by inch.
--
"Barney..."
His name is a sin on her lips, a confession made in the penance box on a Sunday morning. No man... not Stuart, not Anton... has ever made her feel this kind of electric tingle. They've never made her feel this wicked, even though it's only a massage.
"I think the real tension is a little lower..."
--
His fingers crawl slowly back down, over neck and shoulders, the front of her, his hands skating the swell of her breast, over her belly, circling over the cloth, down over her thighs. He presses his cheek against the side of her jaw as she slumps back against him.
--
The dim lights of the room, the knowing touch of his hands, the buzz of the alcohol still in her veins all contribute to the heady, dizzy feeling building in her brain. They all contribute to her letting herself go, letting herself forget that she came here to...
His fingers draw a criss-cross over her pubic mound and a whimper catches in her throat.
'X' marks the spot.
--
The fingers of one hand inch up the hem of her skirt while the other caresses the swell of her breast. His wandering hand sweeps over her inner thigh - carefully, tentatively, in case she suddenly gets spooked and asks him to stop. He doesn't want to stop. His dick is so hard now, pressed against her rump.
--
She moans, instinctively rolling her hips towards the hand between her thighs, seeking to increase the pressure and chase the pleasure he's producing in the hottest depths of her core.
She wants him to keep playing her like a violin, keep finding the tune that will make her shriek with carnal lust.
The way he's touching her...God, it's like he knows her body better than Stu ever did.
--
He grabs her flailing hand, his fingers catching her wrist as his fingers probe her, restraining her movements. He's testing the waters here, seeing what she responds to. So far, she's as open and willing as a high-price hooker, which amazes him. Maybe she's just a natural - an untapped resource that Stu probably never knew he had.
What a loser.
--
She bites down on her lip, unsure of the lusty sounds bubbling up in her throat. She was never told it was okay to scream, never told it was okay to moan, or whimper...and it's not like Stuart ever got her to a point like this...
She glances down at the wrist caught in Barney's grip, and winces as her engagement ring sparkles back at her.
"Take that off..."
--
He covers her fist with his own and, when he removes his hand, her ring is gone. It amuses him that she let it bother her, but then again he knows that most chicks'll let you nail them if you give them a ring.
Crazy.
He continues to stroke her, his fingers pulling the lace of her panties aside, under her skirt. He wants her dripping wet and moaning his name and then he'll see just how far he can go with this one. He's feeling adventurous and he has a feeling that if he leads her down into a dark alley, she'll follow him in.
--
"Barney..." She twists her hips and spreads her thighs, giving him better access, never even wondering why she's letting this go so far.
She figures it's because he is listening to her, in a weird way. Listening to the humming of her body, the primal nature of her being. With careful movements, he's been stripping her down and revealing the carnal harlot buried deep within her.
"Want you..."
She feels two fingers slide inside of her, stretching her, and it makes her feel so damn...
/Crazy./
--
Oh yeah, that's the stuff. He whips his fingers out of her, circling her clit a few times until she bucks against his hand, but denying her the sweet release. Whispers in her ear "c'mon... " He pulls her to her feet, her skirt still rolled up to her waist. He gently drags her into the bedroom, pushing her back onto the kind-sized bed.
--
As her head hits the singular pillow on his bed, she feels uninhibited and completely enthralled with Barney's techniques. He's taken her so much farther than she's ever gone and every inch of her is tingling with the desire to keep going. She wants to be pushed, wants to be pulled upwards and outwards, until a new woman is born. And from what she's seen so far, Barney's more than capable of taking her there and judging by the look in his eyes, he's pleased to be behind the wheel.
--
He pushes her arms above her head, straddling her, before unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. "You're beautiful," he says, punctuated by a kiss. "But I think you can look more..." he whips his shirt off over his head and reaches over to the bedside table.”Do you trust me, baby? I'll make you feel things you ain’t never felt before."
--
/Does she trust him?/
Her forehead wrinkles a little as she contemplates the question for a second. She's certain that he's genuinely interested in having her trust, and he's already piqued her interest in sex this evening, so it's not like she's gonna hate herself the next morning or anything...
Not only that, but Barney's been in her life for at least two years now...and that's gotta mean something.
"You're my friend, Barney. Of course, I trust you."
--
He pulls out a pair of handcuffs, swinging them from one finger. "Hey Claudia," he drawls, "How'dya like to be at my mercy, sugar?"
He grins down at her, then slowly sticks out his tongue and waggles it.
--
Her breath catches in her throat as she watches the metal rings glint in the dim light of his bedroom. This is why he asked for her trust, her obedience, her...submission.
She nods gently, hesitantly, as her thigh muscles tighten and clench. "Okay..."
--
He takes her slender wrists in his hands and clicks the cold metal around each one, fastening the cuffs to the headboard. Then he casually kicks off his pants and boxers, fisting his erection while looming over her. "You have any idea what I can do to you, baby?"
He chuckles and plants a line of kisses down from her neck to her sternum, between her breasts, one hand sliding down her thigh.
--
Being tied to the bed makes her feel helpless, vulnerable. A butterfly trapped in a spider's web. She bites down on her lip, focusing on the crown of his head as his mouth does things to her neck that no man should ever be able...mmmphh, she loses her train of thought as his tongue darts over her skin and swipes the salt from her flesh.
"What are you going to do to me?"
--
His hand sweeps up, ghosting over her skin. "I'm not going to /tell/ you..." He laughs. "Let's just call it an education in pleasure."
While he talks he takes a foil square from the bedside table and rolls on the latex, then returns his attention to her body, the gentle curve of her belly, and down between her legs.
--
Her lips curl into a smile, appreciating the humor in his eyes as well as the deep seated desire to pleasure the hell out of her. His offer of an education intrigues her and the words she told him before still ring in her mind.
/I've really only ever been with one man before.../
She's never been the bad girl, the adventurous girl. She's always been the pure girl, the abstinent girl, the sheltered girl.
And as the heat builds rapidly between her thighs, shooting tendrils of lust and desire throughout her body, she can't wait to change that.
--
He palms her breast, pushing her thighs wide apart and moving back up her body. He pushes his erection against her, not entering her just yet, but instead putting pressure on her clit and moving his hips in tiny, circular movements. He grins down at her. He's gonna have so much fun with this one.
--
Barney’s hard, hot steel pressing against her dripping slit and the motion he's making with his hips and cock is enough to drive her bat shit crazy. She wiggles her arms, testing the restraints just to see whether or not she can find contact with his skin to drag him down inside her. But the restraints don't give. Instead, they insist on minimizing her movements so much that she can barely reach her own hair with the tips of her fingers.
--
He hoists up her thighs, spreading her wide and pinning her to the mattress. Soon she's squirming and panting and straining against him, moving her own hips frantically to get some friction, to increase the rhythm. His lips cover her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth as he lifts his dick away from her, leaving her to hump the empty air.
--
All her life, she's been told that swearing was inappropriate for a woman, that it could damage her propriety in the presence of a man. But Barney's torturously sadistic teasing of her body is enough to make her blood boil with irritation and longing.
"Fuck," she murmurs, not giving a shit about what that will mean later. Her wrists and arm muscles ache from the cuffs digging into her skin and her legs desperately attempt to hook around his and lock him in some kind of position that will get him inside of her. Of course, he maneuvers himself so she doesn't catch him and he chuckles softly as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her areola. The white-hot arc of pain/pleasure shoots down to her core and her spine arches off the bed. Never in her life has she had it this good.
"Fuck...want you..."
--
He lines up with her entrance and pressing into her, very slowly, very tortuously, wanting her to feel every inch of her. She squirms and writhes under him, panting slightly, and he looks down at her, suddenly pushing in hard.
--
She gasps, body twitching like a hot wire as he buries himself deep inside her core. Her internal muscles clench around his dick, and she bucks her hips with unbridled enthusiasm, trying to match his thrusts.
She looks up at him, trying to read his mind. She can't even begin to imagine what he must be thinking right now. But she's sure that he's probably picked up on just how inexperienced she is for a 29 year old. She's willing to wager that a more experienced woman wouldn't react like a damn bitch in heat.
--
He grins, thrusting once, feeling her clench around his dick - so tight, such a hungry pussy. Dear god, has this woman never been fucked before?
"Hey..." He says with a smirk. "Tell me what you want, baby?"
He can't help but look at those swollen pink nipples, want to torture them a bit. He's got a feeling that she doesn't even know what she wants. But oh BOY, he does.
--
The pungent smell of sex and cologne and cigar smoke fills her nose as he lingers there, his hips still and flush against hers. Every thought in her head is chaotic and dizzy and she wouldn't know the first thing about grabbing one of them and deciphering what it says.
Besides, he's the expert, right? The one who does this all the time. The one who's done so much already to make her mind explode and they haven't even gotten to the grand finale yet.
She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip and glances down the length of her body, giving up her decision once and for all.
"Whatever you want."
--
He grins, and leans over her body, inadvertently pressing deeper inside her momentarily until he appears again with two tiny silver nipple clamps, held together by a delicate chain.
He flashes her a challenging grin, thrusting into her a couple of times, just to snap her attention back onto him, then he fastens one of the cruel contraptions to her right nipple, pinching it.
--
Fear, confusion, and pain flash in her eyes as the metal teeth of the clamp dig into her incredibly sensitized skin and she feels desperate to reach out and touch him, to feel the strength underneath the bulging muscles of his arms, to feel...more connected to him somehow as he uses her body for his enjoyment.
But as the shock sensation dulls, she feels a strange, unexpected sense of pleasure worming its way down to her core and her muscles clench around Barney. She whimpers as the next set of teeth sink into her flesh, but a few minutes later, her body rewards her with that same strange bliss from before.
As he thrusts inside her again, fingers curling around and tugging on the small chain connecting the clamps, something white-hot and intense explodes behind her eyes.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she moans desperately, just wishing that she had something to hold onto to keep herself from falling into the deepest depths of oblivion.
--
He tugs the chain, rhythmically, as he fucks her. He fucks her in hard, powerful strokes, timed to meet her bucking hips. His other hand travels up and down her lithe torso, increasing the pressure, barely able to hold back now.
--
She squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the feelings rapidly building up inside of her, the fire of lust that's consuming her. She doesn't care if it swallows her whole, doesn't care if it burns, if it scorches, if it leaves a mark that won't heal for days.
It's just one more tug, one more thrust that sends her flying over the edge, sends her falling into oblivion.
And she hopes that she never has to hit the bottom.
--
He's barely aware of Claudia as his orgasm surges out of him, his dick pulsing with one, pure shot of ecstasy, from groin to the base of his spine.
He sinks down on top of her, panting, his lips pressing into her hot throat.
--
He's a weight, sinking her body deeper into the mattress, into the aftermath of their coitus.
"Is it always that incredible?" She whispers, speaking more to the ceiling tiles than she is for him.
--
He reaches up, on autopilot, releasing her from the handcuffs with a gentle click.
He levers himself off her body with a grin and a wink. "Always, baby!" He looks down at her, flushed and boneless and a little starry-eyed. It's not a new sight for him, even though she's way hotter than any girl he's nailed in, like, forever. Plus, she's a friend.
He crouches down beside her and holds up his hand. He balls it into a fist and, miraculously, her engagement ring appears in his palm.
"Don't you have a home to go to?" He asks her. His voice is gentler, maybe a little chiding.
--
The Earth screeches to a crashing halt as the diamond glitters in the dim light. She balls her hands into fists, afraid to reach out and touch the small ring inside his hand. Touching it, taking it would be the end of this dream, this fantasy, this crazy blissful ride he's taken her on.
But at the same time...
The thought of Stuart rubs up against her brain. He's stable, sweet, and knows how to grill a great hamburger. She was planning to marry him not that long ago, and right now, Barney's offering her that free pass to return her old life. And she knows from experience that no matter how awesome Barney is at sex, how awesome he is at reading her...they can never really be more than friends who just happened to fall into a bed one night.
"Do you think he'd take me back?" She asks quietly, hesitantly moving her fist towards his palm, her fingers considering their next move.
--
He shrugs. "Probably. He kind of looks like a schmuck." He laughs. "No offense, babe."
He snaps off the condom and saunters into the bathroom, shouting back "Hey, shut the door on your way out?"
--
She looks down on the mattress and sees that he left the ring behind, nestled into the rumpled sheets. It's a sign that he knows what she needs to do. She needs to get up, get dressed, and get married in the morning.
And when Stuart makes love to her on their honeymoon...
She'll just pretend this never happened. It'll be easier that way. And no one will lose.
In addition to that...we answer the question...how would Barney really objectify a friend without really hurting her.
Warnings: Smexxx, Light Bondage, Light Pain/Pleasure elements, Language
"I'm 28 years old... and I've only ever been with one man," she says, and her fingers run along the glass of vodka cranberry and she sniffles in that adorable way of hers.
It's almost too much. She's practically a virgin!
She looks tired, weepy. He's got to judge a fine line here between getting the girl completely insensible and getting her into that place where she's just gonna go for it.
He tells her it's all gonna be okay. He snuggles up next to her, their shoulders bumping; wanting to keep physical contact so that when he kisses her she'll be okay with it. He even slides his fingers through hers and grins. "Hey, you wanna get outta here, babe?"
If they don't leave soon, the other guys might come back and scupper his plans to corrupt this ravishing innocent. Look at her. Stuart doesn't deserve her.
--
Claudia looks up at him, mascara smudging the outer rim of her eyes. His words are like a get away car. A get away from this wedding that's coming undone by the minute and it's all Ted's fault.
/Ted./
If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be sobbing in a bar right now. Barney wouldn't need to sitting here trying to make her feel better. And she wouldn't need to be thinking that she deserved a break from fucking Tahitian Vanilla frosting and terrible flower arrangements.
"Where would we go?" She sniffles, picking up a cocktail napkin and dotting her eyes.
--
He pretends to think about it. "You know what you deserve? You deserve to go see a movie, like some light hearted comedy, and then have one of your oldest friends take you out shopping... Would you like that, sweetie?" He gives her his best encouraging smile. "A girl like you deserves to be spoiled... C'mon? We can get a cab outside..."
Will she take the bait? He has absolutely no intention of taking her shopping.
--
"Shopping?" Claudia echoes, tone edging towards anger as her fingers tighten around his, gripping flesh and bones. "I just dropped $800 on a Vera Wang wedding dress, which I will NOT be getting to wear tomorrow because the biggest douche bag in New York decided he's too in love with his single life to marry me and to top it all off, his even bigger douche of a friend is still singing a merry tune instead of rotting in a sidewalk off Central Park somewhere."
She inhales sharply, lungs stinging from the air and the alcohol.
"You wanna get me out of here, Barney? I expect you to do better than that."
--
He leans back a little under the force of her scorn. Wow, maybe this is why Steward managed to bag a nine? She's got the crazy, crazy eyes. But hey, crazy-eyes-sex is number 8 in his top 10 kinds of risky sex. So he shrugs and grins. "Champagne cocktails at my place?" He gives her a direct look and grins. "Take out your frustration on a guy who'll never say no?"
--
She blinks twice, trying to comprehend the implications behind his question, and she falters. Anger dissipating from her eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly. "I...I'm not usually this...not this person. I swear there's a monster trying to crawl out my ass with all this wedding planning that's going to destroy everyone and everything in a fifteen mile radius."
She picks up her glass, swallowing down what's left of her vodka cranberry.
"And....champagne cocktails sound...lovely."
--
She's got that slightly spaced-out expression on her face, the one they all have, when they're trying to rationalize whether he actually said what he just said, and if he /did/ say it, whether or not he’s joking.
His grin doesn't falter as he takes her arm to steady her as she stands up and helps her out of the bar. She smells good - her perfume's not overpowering, she gives off that air of desperation that he loves so much. Plus, she's totally hot.
Today couldn't have turned out any better if it tried.
--
She lets him guide her into the backseat of cab, trusting him to keep her steady, keep her from unraveling. The worn leather of the seat feels comforting, rubbing against the soft, nylon tights covering her legs.
"Thanks, Barney. For being my friend right now. Especially since Lily didn't come to see me like she promised," she murmurs, words slurring together. "No one does what they promise anymore."
--
Barney sits back, an arm draped casually around her shoulders. "Yeah, the mendacity of this place... it sucks hard." Turns towards her. "It's like you can't trust anyone anymore, right?"
His eyes roam over her body while she stairs blankly at the back of the cabby’s head.
--
His arm...
His eyes...
They should trigger red flags, but they don't. They just feel like an extension of the hug from before. An extension of his friendship, of his caring. He wouldn't be sitting here beside her if he didn't care.
"Well, I certainly can't trust /Ted./ And I can't trust Stuart either."
Her fingers slide over her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles that aren't there.
"But you know, since the wedding's off and I've kinda ruined your chances for picking up a pretty girl...I'll make sure that you get someone out of the deal. I've got this friend named Liz who can pull off a strapless better than anyone I know."
--
He watches her fingers playing over the swell of her thighs beneath her skirt. He loves how feminine she is - the way she does her hair, the way she dresses. It just makes him itch to push her back on the faux-leather seat and stick his head between her legs.
"Hey babe, I'll be Liz don't hold a candle to you.” he slides his hand over the back of hers.
--
His touch sends an unexpected tingle through her veins, and she bites her lip, looking down to see his fingers so dangerously close to skin, so dangerously close to touching her thigh. And she feels a small twinge of guilt for wanting to let him get closer.
"Liz is a Pilates instructor..." she offers weakly, as if mentioning her friend's profession will make all the difference in the world, as if it will change the fact that Barney is paying more attention to her body than Stuart ever did, as if it will erase the fact that she kinda likes having this sort of attention right now even though her wedding is supposed to be tomorrow.
--
His fingers move, imperceptibly, so that he can push them between hers, spreading hers wide. It's a gesture, a promise, a way to show her his intentions. He grins.
"Wow... Is she way flexible?" He laughs. "Gotta get me a piece of that..." But it's Claudia he's looking at, Claudia he's curled around, Claudia who's got his full attention.
--
Her teeth scrape lightly over her bottom lip, and she laughs helplessly. "Incredibly flexible..."
Every nerve is on fire, every inch of her feels like it's hovering on a dangerous edge as his fingers get closer and closer to the apex of her thighs, as his hands spread over hers like a spider web.
"Barney..."
She wants to ask him what his plans are for real, wants him to get her permission first, because something tells her that it's more than just champagne cocktails and friendly banter.
--
A smile spreads across his lips and he leans in a tiny bit. His fingers hover, perilously close to the nylon-covered thighs - so close that he can feel the warmth of her.
"Yeah baby?"
--
"I've really only ever been with one man before..." Claudia blurts, and then instantly regrets it because it sounds way too much like an invitation. Sounds way too much like she wants him to push things further.
And she does....
But she can't...because that would be slutty and dirty and wrong and it hasn't even been that long since Stu slammed the door in her face.
"And I'm not...not really that flexible..."
--
He does his best impression of soft-shocked-ness. "Oh wow... Baby... no... You've just been taken advantage of way too much..." He presses forward again, just a tiny bit. "What you need right now is a friend, and a shoulder to cry on... and some ridiculously expensive champagne? Right?"
Smiles his devilish smile.
--
The tears nearly spring to her eyes again, but she brushes them away before they have a chance to fall, nodding her head in agreement.
"Right."
The cab pulls up to a stop outside Barney's apartment complex, and she lets herself out, glancing up to see the sun glint off the top windows of the buildings. It's still so bright out, still so sunny...
--
He follows her out then takes her hand, leading her into his building. The security guard gives him a knowing look as they pass by into the elevator.
He watches her.
Claudia looks a little flustered, maybe even still a little angry. That's okay. He can work with angry. Angry sex is good.
He stands close to her in the elevator, playing the supportive friend. He smiles. He nods. He says the right things. It's a mask he's worn a thousand times.
--
In the elevator, she talks, words tumbling out before she can pull them back. She talks about Stu, about Ted, about her father. Christ, he's gonna kill her when he finds out about this.
She swears she sees a flicker in Barney's eyes at the mention of her dad. The kinda flicker that men get when something trips their fancy.
But she doesn't pursue it because he's Barney...and he's been her friend for at least a year now.
--
He can't help it; his interest focuses into a needlepoint when she starts talking about her father. Daddy issues? Hot. He has to fight the grin that threatens to spread across his face. He has to keep the mask of sympathetic interest firmly in place.
"Wow, sounds like you had a pretty hard time growing up, right? I mean, seems like nothing you could ever do was enough."
--
She nods, feeling a bit surprised by his succinct insight. The elevator door slides open and he guides her towards his front door. "It's not like there is anything I can do about it now, so why don't we just have some of those champagne cocktails now and figure the rest of life out some other time?"
She's not here because she once to have a psychological discussion. She's here because he offered alcohol and an ear...as well as a comforting touch apparently, since he can't seem to take his hands off of her for a second.
--
He follows her out of the elevator and opens the door to his apartment, gesturing for her to go inside. "Hey, sure..." He grins. "You wanna make y'self comfortable baby?"
He grabs a bottle of cognac from the bar then circles around the kitchen into the refrigerator for the champagne he always keeps on ice. He quickly and expertly pops the cork, mixing them classic champagne cocktails with a dash of angostura and a sugar cube each, then returns to the couch.
She's tense - he can see it in the lines of her body, in the tension in her frame. Tense and anxious. Well, he can do something about that.
--
The leather cushions of the sofa mould to her skin, stick the underside of her thighs. Barney brings her the drink and she takes it from him, gingerly taking a sip. To the best of her knowledge, she's never before set foot in Barney's apartment and it feels strange...unfamiliar.
She turns her head slightly and grimaces at the sight of the life-size storm trooper staring back at from the window.
"You have a very nice place."
--
He grins as he sinks down on to the couch next to her. "I know. It's awesome!" He clinks his glass against hers. "Just one of the perks of working for... well, you don't want to know about that, do you?" He gives her a look, like a fox that can see a hole in the fence of the chicken coup. "How's the champagne?"
--
She takes another sip, letting the bubbles tingle against her tongue. It's a strong drink, but not enough to make her cough. She offers him a small smile, and a barely noticeable shrug. "It helps."
Her eyes meet up with his, and she can't help but wonder what he's really thinking right now. Barney had always struck her as a man who could get lost in his thoughts without even realizing it.
--
He leans in a little. "Wow, babe. You look still look way too tense. Hey, I got an idea!" He beams. "Why don'tya kick off your shoes and lie back, let uncle Barney give you an awesome shoulder and neck massage?"
--
A ghost of a smile plays across her lips as she reaches down to unclasp the straps of her high heels. It's kinda funny hearing him call himself Uncle Barney, and in some dark corner of her brain, she can feel this weird tingle stir up images of what else Uncle Barney could do to take care of her...
But thinking like that? With her engagement ring still sparkling on her finger? It just feels dirty so she pushes the thought aside and twists her body to the side, giving him better access to her neck and shoulders.
--
He moistens his lips. With her turned around, the caring, sweet expression he's wearing can just fade away. Instead, his hands get to work - his long, clever fingers playing across her shoulders, working the knots of tension they find there. He wants to hear her moan, softly at first, just foreplay really.
--
His touch is like magic soothing away aches and pains in ways the masseuse at the spa can't accomplish. She hisses in pleasure when he hits a sore spot along the ridge of her shoulder blade and arches her back against him as he works the knot down to nothing.
"God, Barney..."
--
Oh yeah... her words, breathy, seductive, they're like music to his ears. He wants her begging him; he wants her crying out his name while he's buried between her thighs.
But there's a time and a place. He smiles and works his way across her neck with one hand. The other sweeps down her back, over her bra-strap, doing nothing more than briefly drawing attention to it, indicating it, letting his fingers linger.
"You know... to really get on in there, it's better to go for skin on skin?" He chuckles. "I mean... in a massage sense of course."
Of course. He grins wolfishly. At first, anyway.
--
Her body reacts instinctively, pulling away from him like his magic hands have suddenly produced fire and burned her.
"I...Barney, I don't know about that. What about...Stuart?"
--
He doesn't even pause, letting his hands run smoothly across her back. "Stuart... Stuart... Oh right... that's the guy who doesn't want to marry you? What's he got to do with this? Come on Claudia, he's clearly an idiot... And trust me when I say, I give /great/ massage. No funny business. Promise?" He lets her go and scootches around so she can see his face, giving her a comical puppy-dog sad-face.
--
Claudia exhales sharply, hating herself for knowing that Barney's right about Stuart, right about being good at this massage thing, and right about making her feel better. And if that means she has to shed an article or two...
"Does it have to be /everything/?"
--
He blinks at her, confused for a minute. Then he realises what she's saying and chuckles. "What? No! Wow... what kind of guy do you take me for... You think you can just waltz into my apartment, drink my champagne, birthday-suit up and seduce me? Do you Claudia?" He laughs. "Nah, just lose the sparkly... cardigan.. thingy?" He winks.
--
With hesitant fingers, she slowly works the clasps on her sweater, reminding herself that this is no different from that day trip to the spa last year and letting that Italian muscle god, Anton work his magic on her spinal cord. After the last comes undone, she slides the sweater off her shoulders, a blush rising in her cheeks as his eyes fall down on the ivory white ruffles decorating the edge of her bra.
--
The second she whips off that sweater, his hands are on her again, kneading her supple flesh, caressing her, hard, then soft. He inches closer. He wants to drive her wild, wants her body taking over, wants her to know that she's got no defence against him. Not ever. He wants her begging him.
She's only been WITH ONE OTHER GUY. She's practically a virgin. She's technically innocent. How could he resist?
--
Her body feels overwhelmed by sensations and every inch of her tingles with something new and different as his fingers dig into her skin and make it surrender.
He's hard. He's fast. He's soft. He's gentle.
And with each passing minute, she can feel a radiant heat growing inside her core and blossoming across her entire body.
--
He leans forward and breathes her in, the warm, milky scent of her bare skin. Boy, she is way hotter semi-naked than he'd hoped. She's way hotter than any chick he's been with in a long time.
"Hey sad eyes? How's that feel? That feel good?" He drawls the final word into a seductive purr.
--
She moans softly, feeling him hit all the right spots and barely noticing when his fingers brush over the clasp of her bra or slide a little too far down her back. And as she surrenders more to him, as any protests she might have had fall away, she can feel him become more and more daring with his massage techniques.
"Not sad anymore," she murmurs, heady from the relaxation seeping into her muscles, into her blood.
--
He grins. His lips are an inch away from her skin now and he moistens his lips, drawing her back into his arms, his fingers moving up her neck, either side of her face and through her hair. The pads of his fingers massage her temples, working their way across her scalp until her back is flush with his chest. Yeah, that's it. He can feel her becoming his, inch by inch.
--
"Barney..."
His name is a sin on her lips, a confession made in the penance box on a Sunday morning. No man... not Stuart, not Anton... has ever made her feel this kind of electric tingle. They've never made her feel this wicked, even though it's only a massage.
"I think the real tension is a little lower..."
--
His fingers crawl slowly back down, over neck and shoulders, the front of her, his hands skating the swell of her breast, over her belly, circling over the cloth, down over her thighs. He presses his cheek against the side of her jaw as she slumps back against him.
--
The dim lights of the room, the knowing touch of his hands, the buzz of the alcohol still in her veins all contribute to the heady, dizzy feeling building in her brain. They all contribute to her letting herself go, letting herself forget that she came here to...
His fingers draw a criss-cross over her pubic mound and a whimper catches in her throat.
'X' marks the spot.
--
The fingers of one hand inch up the hem of her skirt while the other caresses the swell of her breast. His wandering hand sweeps over her inner thigh - carefully, tentatively, in case she suddenly gets spooked and asks him to stop. He doesn't want to stop. His dick is so hard now, pressed against her rump.
--
She moans, instinctively rolling her hips towards the hand between her thighs, seeking to increase the pressure and chase the pleasure he's producing in the hottest depths of her core.
She wants him to keep playing her like a violin, keep finding the tune that will make her shriek with carnal lust.
The way he's touching her...God, it's like he knows her body better than Stu ever did.
--
He grabs her flailing hand, his fingers catching her wrist as his fingers probe her, restraining her movements. He's testing the waters here, seeing what she responds to. So far, she's as open and willing as a high-price hooker, which amazes him. Maybe she's just a natural - an untapped resource that Stu probably never knew he had.
What a loser.
--
She bites down on her lip, unsure of the lusty sounds bubbling up in her throat. She was never told it was okay to scream, never told it was okay to moan, or whimper...and it's not like Stuart ever got her to a point like this...
She glances down at the wrist caught in Barney's grip, and winces as her engagement ring sparkles back at her.
"Take that off..."
--
He covers her fist with his own and, when he removes his hand, her ring is gone. It amuses him that she let it bother her, but then again he knows that most chicks'll let you nail them if you give them a ring.
Crazy.
He continues to stroke her, his fingers pulling the lace of her panties aside, under her skirt. He wants her dripping wet and moaning his name and then he'll see just how far he can go with this one. He's feeling adventurous and he has a feeling that if he leads her down into a dark alley, she'll follow him in.
--
"Barney..." She twists her hips and spreads her thighs, giving him better access, never even wondering why she's letting this go so far.
She figures it's because he is listening to her, in a weird way. Listening to the humming of her body, the primal nature of her being. With careful movements, he's been stripping her down and revealing the carnal harlot buried deep within her.
"Want you..."
She feels two fingers slide inside of her, stretching her, and it makes her feel so damn...
/Crazy./
--
Oh yeah, that's the stuff. He whips his fingers out of her, circling her clit a few times until she bucks against his hand, but denying her the sweet release. Whispers in her ear "c'mon... " He pulls her to her feet, her skirt still rolled up to her waist. He gently drags her into the bedroom, pushing her back onto the kind-sized bed.
--
As her head hits the singular pillow on his bed, she feels uninhibited and completely enthralled with Barney's techniques. He's taken her so much farther than she's ever gone and every inch of her is tingling with the desire to keep going. She wants to be pushed, wants to be pulled upwards and outwards, until a new woman is born. And from what she's seen so far, Barney's more than capable of taking her there and judging by the look in his eyes, he's pleased to be behind the wheel.
--
He pushes her arms above her head, straddling her, before unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. "You're beautiful," he says, punctuated by a kiss. "But I think you can look more..." he whips his shirt off over his head and reaches over to the bedside table.”Do you trust me, baby? I'll make you feel things you ain’t never felt before."
--
/Does she trust him?/
Her forehead wrinkles a little as she contemplates the question for a second. She's certain that he's genuinely interested in having her trust, and he's already piqued her interest in sex this evening, so it's not like she's gonna hate herself the next morning or anything...
Not only that, but Barney's been in her life for at least two years now...and that's gotta mean something.
"You're my friend, Barney. Of course, I trust you."
--
He pulls out a pair of handcuffs, swinging them from one finger. "Hey Claudia," he drawls, "How'dya like to be at my mercy, sugar?"
He grins down at her, then slowly sticks out his tongue and waggles it.
--
Her breath catches in her throat as she watches the metal rings glint in the dim light of his bedroom. This is why he asked for her trust, her obedience, her...submission.
She nods gently, hesitantly, as her thigh muscles tighten and clench. "Okay..."
--
He takes her slender wrists in his hands and clicks the cold metal around each one, fastening the cuffs to the headboard. Then he casually kicks off his pants and boxers, fisting his erection while looming over her. "You have any idea what I can do to you, baby?"
He chuckles and plants a line of kisses down from her neck to her sternum, between her breasts, one hand sliding down her thigh.
--
Being tied to the bed makes her feel helpless, vulnerable. A butterfly trapped in a spider's web. She bites down on her lip, focusing on the crown of his head as his mouth does things to her neck that no man should ever be able...mmmphh, she loses her train of thought as his tongue darts over her skin and swipes the salt from her flesh.
"What are you going to do to me?"
--
His hand sweeps up, ghosting over her skin. "I'm not going to /tell/ you..." He laughs. "Let's just call it an education in pleasure."
While he talks he takes a foil square from the bedside table and rolls on the latex, then returns his attention to her body, the gentle curve of her belly, and down between her legs.
--
Her lips curl into a smile, appreciating the humor in his eyes as well as the deep seated desire to pleasure the hell out of her. His offer of an education intrigues her and the words she told him before still ring in her mind.
/I've really only ever been with one man before.../
She's never been the bad girl, the adventurous girl. She's always been the pure girl, the abstinent girl, the sheltered girl.
And as the heat builds rapidly between her thighs, shooting tendrils of lust and desire throughout her body, she can't wait to change that.
--
He palms her breast, pushing her thighs wide apart and moving back up her body. He pushes his erection against her, not entering her just yet, but instead putting pressure on her clit and moving his hips in tiny, circular movements. He grins down at her. He's gonna have so much fun with this one.
--
Barney’s hard, hot steel pressing against her dripping slit and the motion he's making with his hips and cock is enough to drive her bat shit crazy. She wiggles her arms, testing the restraints just to see whether or not she can find contact with his skin to drag him down inside her. But the restraints don't give. Instead, they insist on minimizing her movements so much that she can barely reach her own hair with the tips of her fingers.
--
He hoists up her thighs, spreading her wide and pinning her to the mattress. Soon she's squirming and panting and straining against him, moving her own hips frantically to get some friction, to increase the rhythm. His lips cover her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth as he lifts his dick away from her, leaving her to hump the empty air.
--
All her life, she's been told that swearing was inappropriate for a woman, that it could damage her propriety in the presence of a man. But Barney's torturously sadistic teasing of her body is enough to make her blood boil with irritation and longing.
"Fuck," she murmurs, not giving a shit about what that will mean later. Her wrists and arm muscles ache from the cuffs digging into her skin and her legs desperately attempt to hook around his and lock him in some kind of position that will get him inside of her. Of course, he maneuvers himself so she doesn't catch him and he chuckles softly as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her areola. The white-hot arc of pain/pleasure shoots down to her core and her spine arches off the bed. Never in her life has she had it this good.
"Fuck...want you..."
--
He lines up with her entrance and pressing into her, very slowly, very tortuously, wanting her to feel every inch of her. She squirms and writhes under him, panting slightly, and he looks down at her, suddenly pushing in hard.
--
She gasps, body twitching like a hot wire as he buries himself deep inside her core. Her internal muscles clench around his dick, and she bucks her hips with unbridled enthusiasm, trying to match his thrusts.
She looks up at him, trying to read his mind. She can't even begin to imagine what he must be thinking right now. But she's sure that he's probably picked up on just how inexperienced she is for a 29 year old. She's willing to wager that a more experienced woman wouldn't react like a damn bitch in heat.
--
He grins, thrusting once, feeling her clench around his dick - so tight, such a hungry pussy. Dear god, has this woman never been fucked before?
"Hey..." He says with a smirk. "Tell me what you want, baby?"
He can't help but look at those swollen pink nipples, want to torture them a bit. He's got a feeling that she doesn't even know what she wants. But oh BOY, he does.
--
The pungent smell of sex and cologne and cigar smoke fills her nose as he lingers there, his hips still and flush against hers. Every thought in her head is chaotic and dizzy and she wouldn't know the first thing about grabbing one of them and deciphering what it says.
Besides, he's the expert, right? The one who does this all the time. The one who's done so much already to make her mind explode and they haven't even gotten to the grand finale yet.
She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip and glances down the length of her body, giving up her decision once and for all.
"Whatever you want."
--
He grins, and leans over her body, inadvertently pressing deeper inside her momentarily until he appears again with two tiny silver nipple clamps, held together by a delicate chain.
He flashes her a challenging grin, thrusting into her a couple of times, just to snap her attention back onto him, then he fastens one of the cruel contraptions to her right nipple, pinching it.
--
Fear, confusion, and pain flash in her eyes as the metal teeth of the clamp dig into her incredibly sensitized skin and she feels desperate to reach out and touch him, to feel the strength underneath the bulging muscles of his arms, to feel...more connected to him somehow as he uses her body for his enjoyment.
But as the shock sensation dulls, she feels a strange, unexpected sense of pleasure worming its way down to her core and her muscles clench around Barney. She whimpers as the next set of teeth sink into her flesh, but a few minutes later, her body rewards her with that same strange bliss from before.
As he thrusts inside her again, fingers curling around and tugging on the small chain connecting the clamps, something white-hot and intense explodes behind her eyes.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she moans desperately, just wishing that she had something to hold onto to keep herself from falling into the deepest depths of oblivion.
--
He tugs the chain, rhythmically, as he fucks her. He fucks her in hard, powerful strokes, timed to meet her bucking hips. His other hand travels up and down her lithe torso, increasing the pressure, barely able to hold back now.
--
She squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the feelings rapidly building up inside of her, the fire of lust that's consuming her. She doesn't care if it swallows her whole, doesn't care if it burns, if it scorches, if it leaves a mark that won't heal for days.
It's just one more tug, one more thrust that sends her flying over the edge, sends her falling into oblivion.
And she hopes that she never has to hit the bottom.
--
He's barely aware of Claudia as his orgasm surges out of him, his dick pulsing with one, pure shot of ecstasy, from groin to the base of his spine.
He sinks down on top of her, panting, his lips pressing into her hot throat.
--
He's a weight, sinking her body deeper into the mattress, into the aftermath of their coitus.
"Is it always that incredible?" She whispers, speaking more to the ceiling tiles than she is for him.
--
He reaches up, on autopilot, releasing her from the handcuffs with a gentle click.
He levers himself off her body with a grin and a wink. "Always, baby!" He looks down at her, flushed and boneless and a little starry-eyed. It's not a new sight for him, even though she's way hotter than any girl he's nailed in, like, forever. Plus, she's a friend.
He crouches down beside her and holds up his hand. He balls it into a fist and, miraculously, her engagement ring appears in his palm.
"Don't you have a home to go to?" He asks her. His voice is gentler, maybe a little chiding.
--
The Earth screeches to a crashing halt as the diamond glitters in the dim light. She balls her hands into fists, afraid to reach out and touch the small ring inside his hand. Touching it, taking it would be the end of this dream, this fantasy, this crazy blissful ride he's taken her on.
But at the same time...
The thought of Stuart rubs up against her brain. He's stable, sweet, and knows how to grill a great hamburger. She was planning to marry him not that long ago, and right now, Barney's offering her that free pass to return her old life. And she knows from experience that no matter how awesome Barney is at sex, how awesome he is at reading her...they can never really be more than friends who just happened to fall into a bed one night.
"Do you think he'd take me back?" She asks quietly, hesitantly moving her fist towards his palm, her fingers considering their next move.
--
He shrugs. "Probably. He kind of looks like a schmuck." He laughs. "No offense, babe."
He snaps off the condom and saunters into the bathroom, shouting back "Hey, shut the door on your way out?"
--
She looks down on the mattress and sees that he left the ring behind, nestled into the rumpled sheets. It's a sign that he knows what she needs to do. She needs to get up, get dressed, and get married in the morning.
And when Stuart makes love to her on their honeymoon...
She'll just pretend this never happened. It'll be easier that way. And no one will lose.