Bound To You {locked to chesstotem}
[Arthur is a little drunk.
It's nothing that would impair him, he's sure that he could still shoot straight if it came to it (which it won't), and besides, isn't a man entitled to few drinks with a pretty girl every now and then?
Yes, Arthur thinks. Yes he is.
And Ariadne looks beautiful.
They haven't even made it into his apartment yet--the temporary housing of the moment; immaculately kept and utterly devoid of personal touches, this little flat in Rio with long cathedral windows and high ceilings. Arthur thought of her when he handed the landlord the payment in full for his three week stay. He thinks of her more often than he'd admit to anyone.
They haven't even made it into his apartment--Arthur pushes Ariadne against the wall in the hallway, his hands pulling at her hips and her dress as he relearns the taste of her mouth. She is beautiful. Stubborn in everything; even her kiss is as demanding as it is yielding and he never feels worried that he'll hurt her, not in this. He doesn't worry that there's something too much for her to handle, not when they're mapping each other with fingertips and tongues and sounds breathed into ears and against shoulders.
Arthur's teeth scrape away from her lower lip, the taste of red wine still soaked into the soft, damp skin.
But there is something. He hates to stop touching her but one hand rises as he sucks a light welt onto the skin behind her left ear, his nose buried in the sandalwood smell of her hair, and he slides his tie free of itself and then his collar.
For a moment, a second (and they know just how very long a single second can be), Arthur meets Ariadne's eyes. There's a question of permission that he knows she'll grant but can't take for granted. She trusts him and he holds that with both hands, carefully.
Just like the silk tie that he raises between them and presses lightly over her eyes.
Carefully.]