The Dresden Files fic: Dessert
I wake up with the sun’s light shining through the thin curtains of my bedroom. It’s seems like it’s beautiful out there.
I look at the clock on my bedside table. It’s seven thirty. Normally, that would mean that have to get ready for work, but today is a Sunday and I don’t have to go to the office. Good, because I don’t want to get up. I’m so comfortable, and warm and relaxed and… naked, and not alone.
There’s a strong chest pressed to my back and a big arm draped over my waist, someone breathes on my neck.
And last night comes racing back at me.
He kissed me. And I kissed him back. And we…
I don’t remember exactly how we managed to reach my bedroom but I do remember the moment his long strong fingers started to work at the buttons of my shirt, when they pushed the sleeves off my arms and caressed delicately my arms and shoulders. When he leaned down to kiss the shoulders he recently exposed and went even lower to the flesh at the top of my breasts, which were still covered by my bra.
He’s so tall and I’m so small in comparison, he had to bend down a lot. But he soon fixed that problem. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up in his arms. I wound my legs around his waist and soon he was moving us to the bed and gently laying me down on it.
Then he had no problem at all going down as much as he wanted, kissing my neck, my shoulders, unclasping my bra and taking it off my body as he went lower.
I got to find out first hand that Harry is a breasts man. I’m not too endowed in that area, I’m proportional to the rest of me, so… sort of small. But he didn’t mind or at least he didn’t show it. Not in the way he ran his tongue over each of my breasts or his enthusiastic sucking on my nipples, his hands always caressing the one that could not be attended to by his mouth. I encouraged him by threading my fingers through his soft, dark hair and massaging his scalp. He liked that and he took his time there. It drove me insane and by the time he decided to move south, with a gentle parting little bite to each tip, I was moaning loudly.
He trailed a line with little kisses down my navel and his hands went to the buttons of my jeans. He didn’t waste time with them, he quickly had them open and soon his hands were sliding inside and around my hips, slowly pushing my pants down and off my legs, after some seconds of fumbling with the shoes and socks that were in the way.
The only things covering me then, were my lavender colored panties. And he was still completely clothed. I remember thinking it was incredibly unfair and I set to fix that.
I sat up as he kneeled on the bed. Before he could loom over me again, I mirrored his position and kissed him, hungrily. He returned the kiss in the same way.
He had gotten rid of his duster by then and I help him get rid of his t-shirt too. Harry is a runner, it’s the only sport he practices regularly and it shows. He didn’t have a six-pack or the big muscles some men killed themselves for at the gym; but his stomach was flat and hard, the muscles of his back and chest were dense and tight. He looked healthy and strong. And my desire for him grew even stronger.
I reached up to kiss him again, and he responded by threading his hands through my hair and turning the kiss even deeper, letting our tongues play together. All the while, my hands danced around his flank, the planes of his back and the fine, soft hair that drew a line across his torso and disappeared inside the waistband of his jeans. When I went to work on opening his pants he shuddered and his breaths grew harder. When I sneak a hand inside them and touched him through his boxers he bit my lip and grunted.
I have to admit I’ve always been curious. I mean, you see a man like him, so tall and big in every way, big hands, big feet, and… you know what they say about that; every woman wonders. I discovered that about him the myth was very much true. Not in at abnormal way or anything, but he was… well, proportional. Which is always good.
He was panting, his chest moving up and down fast under my mouth and tongue as I took little bites of his upper body; my hand moved under his boxers to feel flesh, hard and ready. The hands on my hair clenched hard for a second and then he pulled away and stood up, took off his shoes, socks and finally pushed both jeans and underwear down and off those long legs of his.
He stood there at the end of my bed, completely naked in front of me. It was the sight of many fantasies that I have worked hard to push away from my mind in the past. But it had just become a reality so I let myself admire his every detail. He was all sharp and hard angles, in great contrast with the softness his eyes often carried. Those were the ones that always won me over, his chocolate colored eyes, along with his goofy smile.
His eyes were looking at me intensely, full of desire and need. But then I saw him look away and gulp slowly, suddenly looking shy and… I don’t know, maybe a little nervous, I guess. Not much different probably from what I myself was feeling at the moment. Things were about to change between us and it was a scary thought. So I buried it deep inside me and reached out to him.
I took his left hand in mine and pulled him with me on the bed again, where he kissed me once more full of passion. Soon, I was on my back and he was leaning over me, leaving wet kisses on my neck and especially on that spot behind my ear that drove me crazy, all the while caressing the length of my body with one hand. As I moaned in approval of his actions, I felt him start to tug at my panties, gently sliding them down my legs with big, warm fingers that left my skin burning. He threw them somewhere to the other side of the room.
He pulled away from my neck then and looked down at me, his eyes roaming across my shape until they stopped on my face and we looked into one another for a second. In more than ten years of knowing each other, we have never really stared too long at each other’s eyes. He’s said that something happens when you do, a soulgaze he calls it, and it shows you things about the other person, things that reflect the truth about them. But we already knew each other so well; we didn't really need a special wizard thing to tell us anything. And what if we saw something that we weren’t ready to see? Or something we didn’t want to see? So I looked up at his forehead and brushed his hair and caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying my touch. I kissed him sweetly. All that mattered was that we were about to finally be together.
Before losing myself again in his lips, I reached an arm to the bedside table and fished in the drawer for a small foil package. I showed it to him and he took it, planting small kisses on the palm of my hand and wrist. He got up on his knees then, opened the package and soon he was on me again, gently parting my legs with his. In that moment my heart jumped to my throat. It was happening, him and me. My god, I was trembling a little. His mouth covered mine with soft, wet kisses and I felt one of his hands sneaking down to touch me delicately. I let out a gasp into his mouth and he grunted at the feel of me, damp already. I wanted him so much.
He took position against me, his hands at the sides of my head, supporting his weight and his hips between mine. He nudged his way in me and push after gentle push I could feel him stretching me, filling me, until there was no more place for him to go. I moaned loudly then and his head hit the pillow next to my head, his harsh breath right next to my ear. I wrapped my arms around his torso and ran my hands across his back, kissed his shoulder, bite him a little bit. He felt incredible and I couldn’t wait for him to start. I didn’t have to wait that much because a second later, after kissing my temples, he was back on his arms and his hips started to move.
He pulled almost all the way out and then slowly back in, one, twice, a third time and by the fourth he started circling his hips as if searching inside me, caressing every place. One of his hands moved to my hips and down my thigh to the back of my knee and hooked it up over his hip. I might have left out a little scream as he went deeper and touched just the right spot. By its own, my other leg joined its pair and I held onto him as he started to speed up his pace.
The slow thrusts became quicker and harder, his breath turned labored and desperate. So did mine. We kissed anywhere we could reach, our difference in height even when laying down like this, making us work just a little harder for that. But we managed wonderfully, licking at each other’s skin, biting it, leaving wet, hungry kissed everywhere.
I remember the sensation of his strong hips moving between mine, persistent, determined to make me feel him, his weight resting over me as he filled me, deep and hard and… Oh, god, rubbing just all the right places. Our bodies became slick with sweat and we clung hard to one another as we thrust together, creating delicious friction. One of his hands found mine and held onto it tight, so very tight. Our pace went out of control and I couldn’t hold back the screams in my throat, and I really didn’t want to. He felt so good. He was grunting with the effort of our accelerating movements, his hips swiveling to meet mine and go even deeper and I used my legs to pull him in. When it suddenly became too much perfect sensation ending with ecstatic bliss.
We fell asleep soon after that, wrapped around each other.
Last night I slept with my best friend. And loved every single minute of it.
It would change things, a lot of things.
I slowly turn around to look at him. He’s sleeping soundly lying on his side. He looks cute, calm and totally relaxed. Not a look I see often on him. He has worries, so many of them. And he’s such a good man, always trying to fix everything, to make the world better. He has so many pains too, for mistakes he thinks he’s made. I can only hope last night doesn’t become one of them in this morning’s light. It’s doesn’t feel like it, though.
I’ve made many mistakes too, especially regarding the men I’ve loved in the past. I’ve hurt them almost as much as they’ve hurt me. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s too important to me, the one man I really need in my life.
But this would change things, and I’m not sure how much just yet. It makes me a little scared. I press closer to him and bury my head on his neck, under his chin. Sleepily, he mumbles something I can’t understand and his arms press me tight against him. It’s too early to know, too early to think this much. So I take comfort in how warm and safe his body feels, enjoying the moment. And soon I’m falling asleep again.
The End