Fic: Pas de deux (Firefly, River/Mal, R)
Title: Pas de deux
Rating: R
Words: 764
Pairing: River/Mal
Summary: She dances around him, secretly, for an entire day. A quick dance in the cargo bay.
Notes: Written for Porn Battle XII off the prompts 'dance,' 'quick,' and 'box.'
This takes place well after the movie, in some kind of already established relationship.
Pas de deux
She dances around him, secretly, for an entire day. Desire is just release delayed, building on the pattern of her steps, turning in choreographed anticipation with his.
When she follows him down to the empty cargo bay, feet light and quick on the grating, circling around him, she's distracted by the tight fit of his pants; letting herself contemplate the view from the backside a bit too long, she finds herself captured, his hand whipping out to fasten around her wrist, pulling her up hard against him.
“Think I haven't noticed you stalkin' me like a cat all day, darlin'?” he asks, eyes dark and steady on hers.
She loves that look, loves watching it fall to her mouth right before he kisses her, as it always does. “Dance with me, Mal,” she says, smiling, sliding her arms over his shoulders.
“You know I ain't much good at dancing,” he says, but his hands settle on her waist, laying heat on her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Very good at the kind I have in mind,” she corrects, shifting the press of her body against his, feeling his response before his words confirm it.
“Might be able to oblige you there.” His gaze goes to her mouth then, and he lifts his hand, drawing his thumb over her lips, making her breath catch. “Watched you swaying 'round me all day long,” he breathes against her skin, leaning into her, pushing her back step by step until she comes up against a large crate, nowhere further to go. “Damn near drove me out of my skin. Ain't kind to be teasin' a man like that.”
“Wasn't certain you noticed,” she murmurs, distracted by his hands pushing up her skirt and gripping her thighs as she pulls the suspenders from his shoulders, sets to work on his belt. “You hide your interest.”
“Oh, I noticed alright,” he says, and when he kisses her, finally, it's hard and demanding and makes her blood race, makes her thrust her hips against him, giving a soft moan of protest when he pulls away from her. “Out here?”
“It's fine,” she says, breathless, still pulling at his clothes. “No one nearby. Promise.”
His fingers slide back up between her thighs, beneath the thin layer of her underwear, tracing through the curls there, making her squirm against him, burning now and desperate to finish their dance. He laughs, low in his throat. “You ain't the only one who can tease.”
There are times when she wouldn't mind this back and forth, this contest of wills, but now is not one of them.
“But you don't want to tease,” she says, knowing that this is the one time he doesn't mind her in his head, loves hearing his thoughts come out of her mouth. “You want me, hard and fast. Now.”
He groans under his breath and his hands tighten around her hips, turning her around to lean over the crate, bunching her skirt around her waist and pulling her underwear off to lie discarded at her feet. Cool air plays over her skin for a moment, before it's replaced by the heat of him as he pushes into her, making her gasp, her fingers splayed and sliding over the crate's cool metal as he buries himself inside her, again and again.
This too is a rhythm, though it makes her breathing ragged and her heartbeat pound. An undeniable ache builds until she hisses his name and he responds, pulling her back with one hand gripping her hipbone, giving the other room to slide around her waist, letting his fingers rub against her, adding pressure upon pressure until she cries out with it, her voice a high echo off the metal. He's not far behind her, and she shudders as the bright tide of his pleasure washes over her mind, sucking her under for a second time.
“Don't seem quite fair,” he says a few minutes later, as they're smoothing and tucking and buttoning clothing back into place, “the way you ride along in my wake, gettin' off just from being in my head when I do.”
“You're just jealous,” she says, kissing him lightly, buckling his gunbelt low on his hips. “Didn't hear any complaints while it was happening.”
“Not a one, darlin',” he admits, giving her the smile she loves best, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Be willin' to dance with you anytime.”
Rating: R
Words: 764
Pairing: River/Mal
Summary: She dances around him, secretly, for an entire day. A quick dance in the cargo bay.
Notes: Written for Porn Battle XII off the prompts 'dance,' 'quick,' and 'box.'
This takes place well after the movie, in some kind of already established relationship.
Pas de deux
She dances around him, secretly, for an entire day. Desire is just release delayed, building on the pattern of her steps, turning in choreographed anticipation with his.
When she follows him down to the empty cargo bay, feet light and quick on the grating, circling around him, she's distracted by the tight fit of his pants; letting herself contemplate the view from the backside a bit too long, she finds herself captured, his hand whipping out to fasten around her wrist, pulling her up hard against him.
“Think I haven't noticed you stalkin' me like a cat all day, darlin'?” he asks, eyes dark and steady on hers.
She loves that look, loves watching it fall to her mouth right before he kisses her, as it always does. “Dance with me, Mal,” she says, smiling, sliding her arms over his shoulders.
“You know I ain't much good at dancing,” he says, but his hands settle on her waist, laying heat on her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Very good at the kind I have in mind,” she corrects, shifting the press of her body against his, feeling his response before his words confirm it.
“Might be able to oblige you there.” His gaze goes to her mouth then, and he lifts his hand, drawing his thumb over her lips, making her breath catch. “Watched you swaying 'round me all day long,” he breathes against her skin, leaning into her, pushing her back step by step until she comes up against a large crate, nowhere further to go. “Damn near drove me out of my skin. Ain't kind to be teasin' a man like that.”
“Wasn't certain you noticed,” she murmurs, distracted by his hands pushing up her skirt and gripping her thighs as she pulls the suspenders from his shoulders, sets to work on his belt. “You hide your interest.”
“Oh, I noticed alright,” he says, and when he kisses her, finally, it's hard and demanding and makes her blood race, makes her thrust her hips against him, giving a soft moan of protest when he pulls away from her. “Out here?”
“It's fine,” she says, breathless, still pulling at his clothes. “No one nearby. Promise.”
His fingers slide back up between her thighs, beneath the thin layer of her underwear, tracing through the curls there, making her squirm against him, burning now and desperate to finish their dance. He laughs, low in his throat. “You ain't the only one who can tease.”
There are times when she wouldn't mind this back and forth, this contest of wills, but now is not one of them.
“But you don't want to tease,” she says, knowing that this is the one time he doesn't mind her in his head, loves hearing his thoughts come out of her mouth. “You want me, hard and fast. Now.”
He groans under his breath and his hands tighten around her hips, turning her around to lean over the crate, bunching her skirt around her waist and pulling her underwear off to lie discarded at her feet. Cool air plays over her skin for a moment, before it's replaced by the heat of him as he pushes into her, making her gasp, her fingers splayed and sliding over the crate's cool metal as he buries himself inside her, again and again.
This too is a rhythm, though it makes her breathing ragged and her heartbeat pound. An undeniable ache builds until she hisses his name and he responds, pulling her back with one hand gripping her hipbone, giving the other room to slide around her waist, letting his fingers rub against her, adding pressure upon pressure until she cries out with it, her voice a high echo off the metal. He's not far behind her, and she shudders as the bright tide of his pleasure washes over her mind, sucking her under for a second time.
“Don't seem quite fair,” he says a few minutes later, as they're smoothing and tucking and buttoning clothing back into place, “the way you ride along in my wake, gettin' off just from being in my head when I do.”
“You're just jealous,” she says, kissing him lightly, buckling his gunbelt low on his hips. “Didn't hear any complaints while it was happening.”
“Not a one, darlin',” he admits, giving her the smile she loves best, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Be willin' to dance with you anytime.”