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.

Comments

[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.

[tiltingwithlips]

She bites her lip on some more blasphemies, twisting one hand in his hair and the other in the covers of the bed.

It won't be too long. Harry knows how to play her.

[valiantrebel]

He can feel it too, else he'd hardly tolerate such quietness from his lady. A quick breath before the plunge: "Ah, Kate." His voice a rumble in his chest now. He twists his head, feels her nails rake his scalp. Nearly.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Harry," she moans, which is less a blasphemy and more a plea. Don't stop don't leave say on stay on--

[valiantrebel]

He won't.

He won't, not so long as--

He won't, because he's here, she's here, they're here, they're here, they're--

[tiltingwithlips]

--Gone.

Tensing, Kate lets out one sharp cry and comes, clutching him close. She finishes with a shudder and a groan and relaxes into the sheets.

[valiantrebel]

Harry takes a moment, her one leg still slung over his shoulder, and takes her in with a smile. He presses a kiss to the side of her knee, slips out from under it and crawls over the sheets to stretch out beside her.

[tiltingwithlips]

After a moment to recover, she groans again and rolls over to wrap herself around him.

Best husband!

She'll say it in words eventually; for now she just wants to hold him and enjoy the afterglow.

[valiantrebel]

With a satisfied groan himself, he lets her get situated and then engulfs her with both arms. And maybe a leg pressed between hers. He just likes to have as much of her touching as much of him as they can manage. And he's assessing how they can manage more.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate laughs softly and presses a kiss to his temple.

"Thou'rt a wonder," lazily.