BSG Fic...
Title: To the Victor...
Author:
snoopy0917
Rating: MA
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Summary: You were right. And I was wrong...
A/N #1: Written for the A/R MOL ...the prompt was "Fighting"
A/N #2: This little piece of fiction is dedicated to
narciscia who insisted. And to my lovely and talented beta
deepforestowl who agreed completely.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Translation: I own nothing. Merely a laptop, battered 5-star notebook, and fine point Bic pen. And this little story. The characters? SO not mine…
So good.
The words echoed over and over in his mind, mantra repeating through his brain, a loop that never managed to find his tongue.
His head was clouded. Fogged. The thick haze of pleasure blurred his surroundings. Sharpened all his senses to focus on the warm, wet heat dissolving his brain functions, his reason, his control.
So good.
He opened his mouth to tell her. A groan ripped from his throat, vocal chords long past the point of articulating anything coherent. He could feel her giggle before he heard it, tickling vibrations travelling down his flesh from her lips to the base of his cock. He struggled with his eyelids, forced them open to look at her. To watch her. The edges of her mouth curled triumphantly as she watched back. As she teased him. As she drove him crazy.
They’d been arguing. He didn’t remember why. He didn’t remember what. He just knew that he’d won. And that today was a good day. And Laura was in a playful mood. And victory came with a prize.
She always surprised him, always amazed him. He’d almost come to expect it by now. Begun to anticipate being shocked, stunned, caught off-balance. And so he’d smiled in expected surprise when she’d disposed of his belt, dropped his pants around his ankles, and shoved him back onto his couch. Had been unable to contain the grin that burst across his face when she sank down between his legs with the wickedest smirk he’d ever seen cross her lips
It was still so new. The sinuous, graceful way her body moved against his. How the air filled with her cries, lusty and reckless and so much more than anything he’d ever allowed in his fantasies. The reality was so much better. Feeling her sweat-slick limbs against him, beneath him, above him. Feeling her giggle while he was buried balls deep inside of her. Hearing her deliberate voice dissolve into abandoned, passion-drenched cries. Watching as her pupils darkened in lust, as she bit her lip in determination.
Her tongue demanded his attention, punished his inattention, his distraction. She traced wet, intricate patterns as she finally, finally slid her mouth down his cock. Encompassing inch after inch, stretching her mouth around him, never breaking contact with his eyes. His cock hardened even further, stiff and rigid under her touch. Harder than he thought possible.
His head fell back into the leather of the couch. Eyes sliding shut as his hips pressed up into Laura’s mouth. He fought to control his breathing, to steady his racing heart, to regain just a shred of his stoicism. He struggled for control. To not explode in her mouth like a desperate kid. To make things last.
It was useless. The picture she presented mesmerized him. She was more than any man could stand. The slant of her brow and glint in her eyes telegraphed her enjoyment. Her glee at turning his brain to mush. Nimble hands played along his thighs, his balls, his ass, his cock, tickling and teasing and torturing with her touch.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she played with him. As she stoked his lust and drove him frakking crazy. He’d dreamed about her mouth on his cock. Seeing it, watching her suck him, knowing that it was real, brought him to the point of bursting. Her mouth and hands and eyes teased him the way they both loved. Her breasts swelled past the confines of her bra, peeking around the edges of her unbuttoned shirt. Glimpses of thigh tormented him with coy glances as she shifted on the floor, on his cock, as her kneeling stance forced her skirt up higher and higher. Far past the point of decency.
He dug his fingers into his thighs, feeling the hairs brush against his palms. Trying to occupy his hands, to keep from grasping at her. He couldn’t stop himself. His hands reached for her, carefully brushing over her shoulders as she mouthed his balls, licked the crease between them, the seams connecting them to his body.
“Frak, Laura,” He grunted, to warn her, to scold her, to something.
Contrary as ever, she spread his legs further, getting even closer. The red fuzz covering her scalp massaged his cock, baby-soft texture whispering coolly across his heated flesh. She turned her head, tracing the veins of his cock with her tongue. He buried his hands against her hair, feeling the silken texture against his palms, cradling her skull and tracing patterns of his own. She giggled against him again, hot breath cooling her saliva on him. She knew the effect she had on him. She knew what she was doing to him. She knew she was in control here. That he was at her mercy.
“Laura,” He groaned, begged. He was close. Too close. She knew him too well. Knew his body too well already. She was so frakking hot. “Frak, Laura. You’ve gotta stop.”
Sex with Laura was never the same, never boring. A game, a challenge, a struggle for dominance, a struggle not to lose themselves in the other. A struggle they would never win, would never want to. He’d never get tired of touching her. Of pushing her. Of learning every last scrap of flesh, every sensitive spot. Of interpreting the language of Laura. Learning every last gasp, moan, and sigh. Learning exactly how to make her squirm, to make her scream, to make her spine bow and her toes curl. To make her nails dig into his flesh and clutch at him for balance. To make her come.
“Bill.”
Her voice, throaty and sultry, sliced through the ecstasy ruling his body. Her eyes burned into his, demanding his attention.
Her lips, soft and full, wetly kissed their way down one side of his cock.
“You were right…”
She broke to nuzzle his balls briefly, to lick around the base of his cock, letting her soft red hair tickle his shaft, still damp and glistening from her mouth. Eyes glinting with mischief locked with his before working their way back up his cock, tongue teasing him in just the right ways.
“And I was wrong…”
Her mouth sank down on the head of his cock, stretching her lips over the overly sensitive flesh and suckling it, teasing it, dipping her tongue into the slit and pushing him to the brink.
He could do this. He could stay in control.
The corners of her mouth quirked as she slid him further into her mouth and began to hum around him.
He lost.
His head fell back, skull knocking hard against the shelf behind his couch. His legs spread even further as the vibrations from her hot wet mouth danced along his cock. Clever fingers danced along the exposed part of his shaft, along his tender balls and aching perineum, along the quivering muscles of his thighs.
He tried to warn her. Tried to pull her back. His hands grasped uselessly at her shoulders. A strangled cry burst from his throat. He barely felt her hum in satisfaction as he exploded, dissolved, came apart, came in her mouth.
So. Frakkin. Good.
He was in a daze. He barely felt her swallow around him and lick his cock clean. Barely registered as limbs crawled cat-like up his body. Barely processed her warm thighs straddling his lap, her warm mouth kissing him. He kissed her back, openmouthed and deep, his tongue pushing into her mouth and claiming her. He could taste himself on her tongue, in her mouth mixing with the flavor of her that he loved. He wrapped his arms around her as he tasted her, as he came down from his high, as she moaned into his mouth. He would never get tired of kissing her.
His voice was thick, sandpapery with desire. The edges of her eyes crinkled lazily when she heard his tone. Her curves angled slightly, oh so slightly further into his body. He’d have to remember that.
“Is this what happens when I win now?”
The look she offered him was innocent, casual, laced with false nonchalance.
“Who said you won?”
He reached a hand up, caressing her skull with the pads of his fingers, running his palm through the short, fiery strands, drawing her lips back down to meet his. He kissed her softly, gently, still enjoying the bolts of pleasure resonating through his body, still enjoying the fading flavor of himself on her tongue.
“Laura…” He drew out her name, turned it into a playful warning.
She grinned, looking down defiantly from her perch atop him. A grin that morphed into a languid smile when his hands began to wander, when his mouth angled forward to trace patterns along her collarbone and nuzzle the tops of her breasts. Her back arched, curving her body lithely into his touch.
“Hmmm…” Lips and teeth drew out the words sensually, coyly. If he hadn’t just come, he’d be half-hard already. The woman was a frakking flame to his libido. “I have no memory of you winning anything.”
A hand slipped under her skirt. She squirmed against his lap. He groaned when he felt her wet heat far earlier than he should have. He reached his head up to nip at her neck.
“You admitted it,” He breathed huskily into her ear.
Laura leaned back, sliding her arms around his neck and regarding him archly.
“Prove it.”
He flipped her back onto the couch, skirt above her waist before she could finish the thought. He grinned widely, devilishly, at her shriek of surprise. At her quick intake of breath. At the lusty moans escaping her mouth as he touched his tongue to her clit.
This time he would win.
Author:
snoopy0917
Rating: MA
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Summary: You were right. And I was wrong...
A/N #1: Written for the A/R MOL ...the prompt was "Fighting"
A/N #2: This little piece of fiction is dedicated to
narciscia who insisted. And to my lovely and talented beta
deepforestowl who agreed completely.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Translation: I own nothing. Merely a laptop, battered 5-star notebook, and fine point Bic pen. And this little story. The characters? SO not mine…
So good.
The words echoed over and over in his mind, mantra repeating through his brain, a loop that never managed to find his tongue.
His head was clouded. Fogged. The thick haze of pleasure blurred his surroundings. Sharpened all his senses to focus on the warm, wet heat dissolving his brain functions, his reason, his control.
So good.
He opened his mouth to tell her. A groan ripped from his throat, vocal chords long past the point of articulating anything coherent. He could feel her giggle before he heard it, tickling vibrations travelling down his flesh from her lips to the base of his cock. He struggled with his eyelids, forced them open to look at her. To watch her. The edges of her mouth curled triumphantly as she watched back. As she teased him. As she drove him crazy.
They’d been arguing. He didn’t remember why. He didn’t remember what. He just knew that he’d won. And that today was a good day. And Laura was in a playful mood. And victory came with a prize.
She always surprised him, always amazed him. He’d almost come to expect it by now. Begun to anticipate being shocked, stunned, caught off-balance. And so he’d smiled in expected surprise when she’d disposed of his belt, dropped his pants around his ankles, and shoved him back onto his couch. Had been unable to contain the grin that burst across his face when she sank down between his legs with the wickedest smirk he’d ever seen cross her lips
It was still so new. The sinuous, graceful way her body moved against his. How the air filled with her cries, lusty and reckless and so much more than anything he’d ever allowed in his fantasies. The reality was so much better. Feeling her sweat-slick limbs against him, beneath him, above him. Feeling her giggle while he was buried balls deep inside of her. Hearing her deliberate voice dissolve into abandoned, passion-drenched cries. Watching as her pupils darkened in lust, as she bit her lip in determination.
Her tongue demanded his attention, punished his inattention, his distraction. She traced wet, intricate patterns as she finally, finally slid her mouth down his cock. Encompassing inch after inch, stretching her mouth around him, never breaking contact with his eyes. His cock hardened even further, stiff and rigid under her touch. Harder than he thought possible.
His head fell back into the leather of the couch. Eyes sliding shut as his hips pressed up into Laura’s mouth. He fought to control his breathing, to steady his racing heart, to regain just a shred of his stoicism. He struggled for control. To not explode in her mouth like a desperate kid. To make things last.
It was useless. The picture she presented mesmerized him. She was more than any man could stand. The slant of her brow and glint in her eyes telegraphed her enjoyment. Her glee at turning his brain to mush. Nimble hands played along his thighs, his balls, his ass, his cock, tickling and teasing and torturing with her touch.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she played with him. As she stoked his lust and drove him frakking crazy. He’d dreamed about her mouth on his cock. Seeing it, watching her suck him, knowing that it was real, brought him to the point of bursting. Her mouth and hands and eyes teased him the way they both loved. Her breasts swelled past the confines of her bra, peeking around the edges of her unbuttoned shirt. Glimpses of thigh tormented him with coy glances as she shifted on the floor, on his cock, as her kneeling stance forced her skirt up higher and higher. Far past the point of decency.
He dug his fingers into his thighs, feeling the hairs brush against his palms. Trying to occupy his hands, to keep from grasping at her. He couldn’t stop himself. His hands reached for her, carefully brushing over her shoulders as she mouthed his balls, licked the crease between them, the seams connecting them to his body.
“Frak, Laura,” He grunted, to warn her, to scold her, to something.
Contrary as ever, she spread his legs further, getting even closer. The red fuzz covering her scalp massaged his cock, baby-soft texture whispering coolly across his heated flesh. She turned her head, tracing the veins of his cock with her tongue. He buried his hands against her hair, feeling the silken texture against his palms, cradling her skull and tracing patterns of his own. She giggled against him again, hot breath cooling her saliva on him. She knew the effect she had on him. She knew what she was doing to him. She knew she was in control here. That he was at her mercy.
“Laura,” He groaned, begged. He was close. Too close. She knew him too well. Knew his body too well already. She was so frakking hot. “Frak, Laura. You’ve gotta stop.”
Sex with Laura was never the same, never boring. A game, a challenge, a struggle for dominance, a struggle not to lose themselves in the other. A struggle they would never win, would never want to. He’d never get tired of touching her. Of pushing her. Of learning every last scrap of flesh, every sensitive spot. Of interpreting the language of Laura. Learning every last gasp, moan, and sigh. Learning exactly how to make her squirm, to make her scream, to make her spine bow and her toes curl. To make her nails dig into his flesh and clutch at him for balance. To make her come.
“Bill.”
Her voice, throaty and sultry, sliced through the ecstasy ruling his body. Her eyes burned into his, demanding his attention.
Her lips, soft and full, wetly kissed their way down one side of his cock.
“You were right…”
She broke to nuzzle his balls briefly, to lick around the base of his cock, letting her soft red hair tickle his shaft, still damp and glistening from her mouth. Eyes glinting with mischief locked with his before working their way back up his cock, tongue teasing him in just the right ways.
“And I was wrong…”
Her mouth sank down on the head of his cock, stretching her lips over the overly sensitive flesh and suckling it, teasing it, dipping her tongue into the slit and pushing him to the brink.
He could do this. He could stay in control.
The corners of her mouth quirked as she slid him further into her mouth and began to hum around him.
He lost.
His head fell back, skull knocking hard against the shelf behind his couch. His legs spread even further as the vibrations from her hot wet mouth danced along his cock. Clever fingers danced along the exposed part of his shaft, along his tender balls and aching perineum, along the quivering muscles of his thighs.
He tried to warn her. Tried to pull her back. His hands grasped uselessly at her shoulders. A strangled cry burst from his throat. He barely felt her hum in satisfaction as he exploded, dissolved, came apart, came in her mouth.
So. Frakkin. Good.
He was in a daze. He barely felt her swallow around him and lick his cock clean. Barely registered as limbs crawled cat-like up his body. Barely processed her warm thighs straddling his lap, her warm mouth kissing him. He kissed her back, openmouthed and deep, his tongue pushing into her mouth and claiming her. He could taste himself on her tongue, in her mouth mixing with the flavor of her that he loved. He wrapped his arms around her as he tasted her, as he came down from his high, as she moaned into his mouth. He would never get tired of kissing her.
His voice was thick, sandpapery with desire. The edges of her eyes crinkled lazily when she heard his tone. Her curves angled slightly, oh so slightly further into his body. He’d have to remember that.
“Is this what happens when I win now?”
The look she offered him was innocent, casual, laced with false nonchalance.
“Who said you won?”
He reached a hand up, caressing her skull with the pads of his fingers, running his palm through the short, fiery strands, drawing her lips back down to meet his. He kissed her softly, gently, still enjoying the bolts of pleasure resonating through his body, still enjoying the fading flavor of himself on her tongue.
“Laura…” He drew out her name, turned it into a playful warning.
She grinned, looking down defiantly from her perch atop him. A grin that morphed into a languid smile when his hands began to wander, when his mouth angled forward to trace patterns along her collarbone and nuzzle the tops of her breasts. Her back arched, curving her body lithely into his touch.
“Hmmm…” Lips and teeth drew out the words sensually, coyly. If he hadn’t just come, he’d be half-hard already. The woman was a frakking flame to his libido. “I have no memory of you winning anything.”
A hand slipped under her skirt. She squirmed against his lap. He groaned when he felt her wet heat far earlier than he should have. He reached his head up to nip at her neck.
“You admitted it,” He breathed huskily into her ear.
Laura leaned back, sliding her arms around his neck and regarding him archly.
“Prove it.”
He flipped her back onto the couch, skirt above her waist before she could finish the thought. He grinned widely, devilishly, at her shriek of surprise. At her quick intake of breath. At the lusty moans escaping her mouth as he touched his tongue to her clit.
This time he would win.