Big news, big night: The morning (is it?) after

[newredmuses]

Did he sleep at all last night? He may have tried, long after he and Kate had exhausted themselves with talking and crying and laughing. It's hard to say too, when he first noticed that he was lying awake, watching the light in the room change. (Of course, he'd been told, that there isn't sunlight here, as such, but the facsimile is fine enough.)

The scar in his side tells him he is dead, but in faith, lying here beside his wife, his own Kate, he feels nothing of the sort.

Now, is she sleeping still? He slides closer, and plants a kiss just so on her bare shoulder.

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[valiantrebel]

"Is it?"

And his hand slides between her legs.

"Then Harry Percy is your man, my lady."

His fingers start in a slow circle.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Ha."

She nuzzles, then nibbles, his neck.

"And well I know it."

To the very end of the universe, he's hers.

[valiantrebel]

His eyes slip shut, and he bows his head. A deep inhalation, hold, and let it out. His hand, that speeds up a little, and seeks a little lower still.

[tiltingwithlips]

The sound that slips out from her throat is a little less controlled than she might have liked. She presses her fingers -- the pads, then the nails -- against his chest.

[valiantrebel]

His lips find his way to her throat, at the hinge of her jaw. He nips where the skin thrums, and leans into her. Again, at the joint of her shoulder and neck; again, at the hollow between her collarbones.

One finger he slips inside her. Patiently, patiently.

[tiltingwithlips]

"You are a villain," she sighs, tipping her head back and sliding her hands to his biceps, "and a rogue, and a right scoundrel to bait a lady so."

[valiantrebel]

He chuckles. "Peace! Unless you'd rather I go charging in." He nips her lower lip. "I am a craftsman at work at present."

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate snorts and leans in to trade him nip for nip.

[valiantrebel]

Ah, but now he will unclasp a secret book. He leans against her, and with one hand at the small of her back presses her down to the mattress. Now he turns his attention to her breasts, her stomach, the small bone of her hips. "Tell me again, Kate -- how wicked did you say was my tongue?"

[tiltingwithlips]

She laughs breathlessly, and she would pull him into her arms if she didn't like where he was going so much. She makes do with her hands in his hair, following his movements.

"Wicked as the serpent's, love."

[valiantrebel]

He bites, just lightly, at her inner thigh. "Why, you had better sing for angels, then." But will they come when you do call for them?

He meets her eye, grins and takes her in his mouth.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Cry -- amen, to that," she says, breath hitching.

She's not going to give him the satisfaction of being loud about enjoying this. Not until he earns it.

[valiantrebel]

Will not she? Very well; he will not use his words, for the proof is in sucking, biting, teasing, building.

[tiltingwithlips]

Well, it was certainly never a challenge she thought she'd win.

When a whimper escapes her throat and her hips roll needily up towards his mouth, it's the very best kind of surrender.

[valiantrebel]

She may well surrender, but that's no call to relent.

Harry's fingers dig into her hips, her thighs. She seems close; he lifts his eyes to hers and pauses. There is some wickedness about his smile.

[tiltingwithlips]

Wait, did he stop?

Her fingers tighten in his hair.

Did she say he could stop?

"What's that?" she pants, lifting her head to look down at him.

[valiantrebel]

He brushes his lips against her clit, but no harder, no further. "Contemplation, my love. Reflection--" A kiss near, but not on. "And contemplation."

[tiltingwithlips]

She snorts.

"A noble pursuit for another time."

And pulls his mouth down between her legs again.

[valiantrebel]

A resounding ha! and a pursuit of an end she will not mistake.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate groans, a wanton, unchecked noise.

"Harry -- love, my love."

[valiantrebel]

If they were conversing, he would remind her that he is not to speak until he is finished.

But they are not conversing, and so instead he hitches one of her legs over his shoulder, conceding only a long, low noise in his throat.

[tiltingwithlips]

What, is that something she's supposed to object to?

She does gasp, but more out of surprise and then pleasure at the new angles of his tongue, and the sounds he makes.

[valiantrebel]

He pulls back again, eyes hooded, but only for a moment. With another glance at her face, he slips two fingers inside her and curls them, slowly at first, then escalating. He makes very certain she's paying attention before he brings his mouth to her again.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Ah, God!"

Has she told him lately that he's the best husband? Remind her to do that.

[valiantrebel]

He will happily hear it in whatever manner she best sees fit! He likes telling her she's the best wife, though, and this is quite the full-throated proclamation. Now indeed he's putting some power into it, shoulder, hand and jaw working with the rhythm of her hips.