called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

Her husband is stupid, Lucy concludes while in the bath.

She read that book of Mary's, she thinks as she gets out and dries and dresses again, and she could tell he was enjoying it and he got all upset just because she happens to think Lilly Kane is pretty and fun to flirt with and then he had to go and be stupid, and by go she means not be with her, dammit.

And she just finished her last chocolate bar, too.

Dammit dammit dammit.

None of it's fair, and he's not here and she should just go to her room. She should. That would show him. Or she could go snog Lilly. She'd at least get snogged without stupid talking then.

She really wants him to come home, though.

Dammit.

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Bar was so right to give him that hot chocolate. It's way better than tea, tasty and sweet and just right on a cold night like this one.

Caspian feels better than he has in ages, whistling and running down the halls of the House until he reaches his painting, and he still looks incredibly cheerful as he steps through.

Oh.

OH. That's right, Lucy's here. And she's probably still mad at him and he;s still sort of mad at her, because Lilly Kane, but maybe he shouldn't have been so mean about it all. He catches one glimpse of her and looks utterly panicked, before dropping his head and shuffling his feet, his ears bright red.

Studiedly casual, "Hullo, then."

"Hullo," she says very coolly and brushes her hair.

Not looking at him, nope.

Nooot looking.

Maybe peeking just a little.

He leans back against the picture frame and studies the floor with practiced coolness.

Minutes go by in silence.

It's so much easier just to lean against things and not actually say anything. She'd probably bite his head off, anyway.

Women.

She wanted to kiss. He was the one that started biting heads off.

Men.

"You look stupid standing there," she informs him, glancing over again for a moment before going back to brushing her hair.

He shrugs, but there's no doubt that her words don't hit home. Still, he hates it when she's mad.

"You look pretty," he offers, glancing over hopefully.

Brush.

Brush.

Brush.

"...Really?"

She does not sound shy. Nope. Not at all.

"Really." Sounding much more certain of himself, he detaches from the wall and takes a few steps closer, enough to lean against a bedpost and watch her.

She's so pretty. So, so pretty. And he really, really lo--you know, likes her.

How could she possibly think he doesn't like her? He's been so obvious. It's really embarrassing.

"Oh."

Brush.

Brush.

Smile to herself and look down at her lap.

Brush.

"...I wasn't really going to kiss Lilly. Like kissing you," she admits quietly.

It's still maybe a little shy and a little hopeful.

"Oh, hang Lilly," he says, and levers himself off the bedpost to catch her around the waist and kiss her, hard.

"Mmmph!"

And again she's thinking, Thank God, as she puts her hands behind his head and pulls him close.

No matter how hard he kisses her she doesn't think it'll be enough, not right now, and she still feels greedy.

But it's at least a little better as she catches his lower lip between her teeth and pulls him closer towards her on the bed.

He hasn't really ever quite kissed her like this before: hard and desperate and longing and curious.

Never in their real lives, anyway.

And she tastes so good. He loves that just her touch makes him burn, and he loves that she tastes like tea and like chocolate and it is the most addicting thing he thinks he has ever tasted. He’s filled with a sudden desire to tumble her hair around her and watch it fall about her shoulders, and therefore does just that, rolling over to pull her on top of him and letting his hand stray through the shining golden strands.

"God, let me love you," she murmurs and if there's anything more she meant to say it's lost when she kisses him again.

His mouth tastes like home and she's shuddering as she cups his face with both hands and runs her tongue along the inside of his mouth.

Something breaks deep in his throat and something squeezes his ribcage and he makes a noise like a low moan. She smells all fresh and clean and he wishes he'd come back sooner so many he could have joined her in the bath and that image makes him catch his breath and his whole body turns hot just thinking about it.

"Really do love you," he mutters against the skin of her cheek. "'m sorry."

Oh, and she'd get back in for him, readily, but for now she strokes his hair and his face and his arms and his back and she's almost teary when she says back, "I'm sorry. I just. I wanted." You she doesn't say but it's almost always him and she pressing her face against his as she breathes in his smell. And it's like horses and the lake and the sun and maybe he needs the bath, but she doesn't care. She wanted and she didn't want to wait and she still wants.

Talking can be done later; he's vaguely aware that there are other things to say but he's forgiven for now and she's sad and he just wants to make her happy.

Really happy.

So he pulls her down again and rolls them both over and his weight presses her down into the bed. And it's so gorgeous, the way her hair spreads out on the sheets, and he kisses her softly, and says, "Lu, you're so lovely," breathlessly.

"I'm not," she says, because Susan's the pretty one and always has been, but she doesn't care.

"Love you, Caspian, so much," Lucy says, finally, and pulls his head down for another kiss, except she's still kind of greedy, she thinks, and she pulls one of his hands over her breast.

Because she really kinda likes that, and she wants to love him, and she wants to make him feel good, but oh, that feels good, even when it's just his palm resting over her chest.

She is wearing far too many clothes, and after a decent interval his hand moves to the hem of her shirt and slips up under it, up along her stomach and ribcage and her bra is still in the way but first things first. He kisses her like this is the last time he'll ever see her again, and who knows? Maybe it is! Everything here is so unpredictable all the time and he hates it, he hates not knowing what will happen,

But she's here now and he just loves her so much and wants her so that his entire body is thrumming with it and she's still wearing too much so he moves off of her and lifts the hem of her shirt up and over her head, tossing it to one side before bending to kiss her again and letting his hand move freely over her bare skin.

She doesn't really want to take her hands away from him, but she does long enough to unclasp her bra because his hands are clever, but some things are easier to just do yourself.

And the thing is she's suddenly shy, for all a moment ago she was pull his hand to her chest, and for all he's seen her before. Lucy still can't help blushing. But she didn't put her arms across her chest the first time and she doesn't now.

He's still got too many clothes on, and she's yanking at his shirt to try and get it off and push him onto his back.

"Hmmm," he hums helplessly as her hands brush over suddenly sensitive skin, and he helps, pulling off his shirt and pushing the material to one side, and Caspian without a shirt and wearing those worn and just-barely-ragged jeans might be just a boy from any time at all. His skin is flushed, and he lowers himself to trace the bottom of her ribcage with his mouth, kissing down along her stomach and her sides carefully.

"God," she bites out and she'd had a plan just a minute ago, which involved making him come apart under her hands and mouth, and she thought it was a good plan, but she can't think with his mouth doing that, can just run her hands along his back.

"Still need you," she murmurs, and she can't help blushing still but oh oh

oh

his mouth is clever, and that spot above her waistline makes her shake again.

He loves that, loves making her make that noise, loves knowing he can drive her crazy. He loves that she tips her head back and makes him want to kiss all the way up the curve it makes. In fact, there's nothing about Lucy that he doesn't love.

Still, it's teasing, what he does; kissing so softly and slowly and pulling down the waist of her skirt so that he can get to the soft rise of her hip and the soft skin just beside it.

It's teasing and it's mean and she doesn't want to wait any longer and also it's true that turnabout's fair play.

She wouldn't, admittedly, care if it was fair at the moment, just know that she grabs his shoulders when she catches her breath and it's both a firm and a hard push to get him onto his back and her straddling him, hand still on his shoulders.

"My turn." Because he was unfair earlier, too, and she can think on that now, with her breath caught, and she owes him for that. For making her wait, and a smile is on her face for a moment before she's kissing his shoulder. "Let me?" It's softer, and even if she's sitting on him it's very much a question as she kisses him again.

It isn't really as though he can think clearly when she's on top of him like this and all he can do is nod, breathless, and the image of what she had been trying to do down by the lake...

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to steady his breath and he rests his hands on her hips. And when he opens his eyes again, he smiles.

This is new and different and she likes it, as she murmurs, "Don't move," and starts to press kisses down his chest.

This time there's no fabric in the way, and she's grateful for that. His skin's salty and damp and warm and she's kissing but she also stops to just lick, curious, and taste, and it's really, really nice. Lucy kisses down his ribs, lips following one back and forth for a moment, kisses the spot above his belly button, kisses right above the waistline of the jeans, scooting down to reach lower more easily.

Her fingers are gentle as they slip into the top of the jeans, into the top of his boxers, and it's soft as she moves her mouth lower and presses a kiss between his legs. "Don't move," she repeats, and kisses again before sitting up enough to start to unbutton and unzip the jeans.

She says don't move and so he tries, for her he tries, but it's utter torture, the way she moves against him and the way her mouth moves over his skin, heating it and cooling it and moving oh so slowly.

And then her fingers move under his waistband and he takes a great shuddering breath.

But he doesn't move.

He's trying so hard, because that is what she wants.