BSG Fic
They had both played their roles to perfection. Politician and solider. The leaders of humanity sparring and struggling as they fought to protect order and lives.
It had always been between them. Now there was nothing between them. Not since he’d held her unblinking eyes as iron bars locked her into a cell. Not since she’d stood over his broken chest, ripped open by an assassin’s bullet. Not since he’d learned of the cancer eating away at her breast. Not since instinct had propelled him forward to kiss her under a tarp in the rain.
The woman writhed under the man. Mouth pliant and hungry beneath his. Fingers quick and nimble as they shoved aside his fatigues and conquered the zipper of his pants. Limbs unexpectedly strong as she pulled him over her. As she positioned his cock at the entrance of her tight, wet heat. He buried his groans in her hair as he pushed inside, trembling as her body clenched his, at the low, ecstatic hums bubbling out of her throat.
Her endless legs wrapped around him. The heavy night was too dark to appreciate them properly. Instead, he explored them with his hands, fingers skimming over the smooth skin as they worked in tandem to strip her of her boots and pants. It didn’t matter; he already knew them so well. Had every inch of those calves and thighs memorized from those damned short skirts she wore. Long lines of elegant, toned, frakking sexy muscle gripping his hips and ass, pulling him deeper inside her hot center.
Pounding rain melded with the wet sounds of their bodies meeting, shielding them from their companions sleeping a mere stones-throw away. Her hips flexed firmly into his, matching his strong cadence. Her nails dug into the fine hairs at the base of his neck, gripping him forcefully, anchoring herself as she undulated fervently beneath him.
He swallowed her soft moans with his mouth, practicality dictating the need for silence. But the reckless part of him didn’t care. Didn’t care who saw, who peered through the rain and saw Commander and President, man and woman, moving together in an unmistakably carnal rhythm.
Man and woman. His favorite roles.
It was a dance they both knew well, both partnering by instinct, barely stuttering and stopping despite the exposed position and the open air and the uneven ground and the clothes and titles and conflicts that should separate them. He had imagined this, fantasized about it alone in his rack at night. But he’d never thought it would actually happen. Now he wondered how it had taken this long. How he’d ever thought their intricate steps could lead anywhere else.
He could barely make out her features in the dark but could see the pleasure dance across her face. Could see her neck arch, her eyes close. Could feel the passion coiling within her limbs, her chest, the tight channel massaging his dick. Could feel her breathing hitch and hum, her muscles twitch and spasm as she called him by name for only the second time.
“Bill.”
With that one short syllable breathed from her lips, he knew the people he wanted them to be.
Her arms clutched his shoulders fiercely in silent agreement as he answered her in kind.
“Laura.”