peace_inthe_violence

"Sometimes I think I have to hold you down to make you wait for me," he teased as he moved away from her kiss to mouth at her neck. "But I can't say no to you."

He was driven to please any partner. Booker was giving to the point he almost ignored his own pleasure in favor of theirs. Generous to a fault was very accurate for him.

Booker hiked Andy's thigh a little higher around his waist and guided himself inside her. He moaned and curled himself closer to her. Goddamn, she felt so good around him.

"I waited long enough," Andy replied, breathless as Booker slid into her and made her groan, fingers curling against his back. Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in close and nearly flush to her front. She'd never rushed him like this in the past, and Andy hated to feel sore after sex--it was the same reason Nicky so rarely ever used a toy on her that was any bigger than he was--but this was Booker. She'd wanted him for years while he'd drawn away, but they'd all given him space.

None of them would force him if he didn't want the contact. She tucked her face against the bend of his neck and bit her lip to muffle the groan that bubbled up her throat. "Fuck, Sebastien," she hissed through her teeth, tossing her head back with a soft cry: something very rare to hear out of Andy, since she was the quietest one of any of them in bed, unless she was with Nicky.

He adored the sound of his name from her lips. It was such a rare thing to see her in this state, so open, so unrestrained. He lowered himself onto a forearm to close that last little inch between them. As much as he liked to take things slow and let them build Booker knew her preference and couldn't tell her no.

He stayed close enough to kiss her deeply for only a few seconds before he pushed himself up again so he had the right angle to drive his hips into her. He was relentless driving into her, working to build her up while he ignored his own mounting pleasure.

Always her first.

She might let him take it slow later, but it had been too long since Andy had had Booker on her, much less inside her. Nicky was the only one of the men that could really induce her make noise beyond the occasional panting or soft groans, but Booker...Booker could make her see stars when he worked her to orgasm.

Andy curled into him with a quiet whine, opening up as he slid into her, biting her lip to keep from cursing out loud: she only set her mouth to his shoulder, teeth grazing his skin.

"Fuck." Booker had no objections to cursing or being loud. Her teeth in his shoulder was just the sort of pain that added to the pleasure. That right sort of burn that made his hips jerk and crash against hers.

He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, down her neck, and to her breast. Booker massaged a little roughly, his thumb flicking across her nipple. She looked so good. Felt even better.

Booker caught her mouth for another kiss. He let her feel how much he wanted her. How much he loved her. Oh, he loved her like mad.

It was a good thing Andy kept her nails short, otherwise the amount of scratching she was doing to try and gain any purchase was going to hurt, even with their healing. He wasn't letting up and kept shoving into her, and Andy only encouraged him with her breathless whispered words, skipping languages like stations on a malfunctioning radio. She loved it, loved the way he kissed and rubbed his hands over her: her nipples peaked and pressed jewel-hard against his palms as her breath caught in her throat with a sound not entirely unlike a whimper.

Andy wasn't going to last very long like this, not when he was rutting into her and sliding against her so delightfully. It wasn't making love, not the way they had before, but the ferocity made up for it. This was a fast, hot burn, and Andy welcomed it--and Booker--with a harder bite and a rough, voice-cracking moan.

Scratches, bites, Booker didn't mind them. His partner's enjoyment was his favorite part and if she showed him through clawing his back that was good. He liked linger red scratches or hickies. They only lasted seconds but they mattered while they did.

He went back to Occitan, his native tongue, with the occasional word of French slipping in here and there. Booker told her how beautiful she was, how good she felt clenching around him, and how much he missed this. Missed her.

At that bite he slid his hand lower and pressed his fingers against her clit. He circled slowly to add long drags of pleasure along with his cock thrusting into her.

She let out a little sound like a hum as he pressed his hands to her, and Andy pushed up against him, intending to give as good as she got--after this they could take it slow. After some relief from the whirlwind pleasure kicking through her. She was only wordless for a few moments at the way his fingers circled her clit before she picked up the Occitan from him, rubbing and teasing while they fucked.

This wasn't lovemaking, it was fucking. But it felt so good; Andy hadn't known how much she'd missed him being with her until now he was again, and everything felt knocked back into place like a dislocated joint healing. She dipped her head to capture him in kisses again, one after the other only broken by soft words of encouragement as they found each other's rhythm.

Booker rested his forehead against her shoulder and kissed her skin again and again. He dragged his teeth and bit down to leave a mark that faded away as soon as he moved on to another spot.

"Close," he warned her with a breathless gasp.

He fucked her harder, his thumb pressed firmly against her clit to push her over the edge with him. The other downside with fast and hard was that it was over too soon. Not that they'd be done with just one go at each other but it is a headlong rush to the finish now. Booker will have to admire her and worship her later.

The only sound other than Booker's voice was Andy's soft panting, and the sounds of the cushion beneath them shifting with their motions. She squirmed at the insistent press of his hand and her hips jerked, arms wrapped tight around Booker's shoulders as she tripped over the peak before she even knew she'd gotten there, words tangled with each other when she tried to warn him.

He got a broken whine out of Andy as her muscles tensed and trembled, shoving her hips against his, desperate for more of something she couldn't describe.

Booker enjoyed the tight clench and release of her body for as long as he could before he pulled out and stroked himself to release. He moaned loudly, probably loud enough that everyone in the house would know what they were up to but it felt so damn good he couldn't help himself.

They'd have to clean up the chair and her hip but Booker wasn't worried about that in the moment. His world was simply static in his brain and white hot pleasure. Goddamn, it was so good.

He dropped his weight on top of her while he caught his breath, knowing she wouldn't mind. Booker also needed to cuddle after sex with someone he trusted. With a stranger he'd be trying to leave already but not with her. He curled closer instead knowing she'd wrap her arms around him and hold him. God, he loved her.

Andy could not have cared less if everyone on the island knew they were fucking, because Booker was theirs and he'd finally realized that again. She would always, always accept that, and for a long moment as both their bodies relaxed and cooled Andy just brushed her hand over his back, nuzzling his shoulder with quiet, reassuring words in Occitan. She loved the way the language sounded out of Booker's mouth.

"Mmmm. You're perfect," she murmured in his ear, her free hand coming up and combing through the ends of his hair. "Love you, Booker," she whispered, words just between them once they'd both recovered enough to actually manage making sense.

"I love you, Andy." He caught her mouth in a slow sweet kiss. She could indulge him in that much now that the first frantic fuck was out of the way.

Perfect was a stretch but he wasn't in the mood to argue. Booker felt lazy and warm. He shifted his weight just a touch to the side so he wasn't completely crushing Andy then stretched out with a heavy sigh.

"My tan will be a mess now." He rested his chin on top of Andy's head while they cuddled.

The languid, playful little laugh that got out of her probably told Booker exactly how much andy would indulge him in the realm of things like cuddles and kisses: anything. And everything.

So Andy just kissed him back, soft and sweet and delightful as they settled down in the afternoon sun with her body tucked against his as if it belonged there. It did. "You'll just have to spend more time out here to fix it, then," she murmured, sweeping her fingertips along the curve of Booker's ribs. "And who knows what you could get into doing that."

She smiled.

"Or what could get into you. Either way."

It was good to hear her laugh even soft was it was. Booker felt it warm his heart. He didn't know how he had convinced himself to pull away from them when being with her felt so... good and right. The darkness had damn near drowned him.

"Either way it's a pleasant afternoon out by the pool." He draped his arm over her hip and danced his fingers across the small of her back. "Though now that you've had me I feel you'll be keeping me busy as well."

Not that he sounded that bothered by it. A few days of re-familiarizing with each other should get it out of their systems enough that they would go back to their normal routines which just a few more kisses and bouts of sex.

"I'm not letting you go again, Book," Andy murmured, soft but unmistakeably serious, even with her lips grazing his skin. All the fun and the sex aside, Nicky and Joe had stopped the bleeding when they lost Quynh but Booker had been the one who made her start living like herself again. Watching him pull away and stay away for all those years had felt like the stitches holding that black hole shut had unraveled.

She curled tighter against him, hand splaying possessively against his arm as her thigh hooked over his, getting comfortable and not intending to move for a while. They'd heal from a sunburn, it would be fine. They were warm and drowsy and she didn't want to fathom not touching Booker right now.

Booker sighed heavily. "I can't promise I won't try to get away," he said softly, looking off in the middle distance. "When that grief hits me it's very hard to fight. I get so tired."

That was really it, actually. Booker tired to fight it but it was exhausting. It hurt. It was easier to surrender and let it drag him down instead. In that tired state he didn't care that he hurt them when he drew back. He convinced himself it was better for them.

And he knew Andy would understand. She was just stronger and able to fight. "But I'm not going anywhere right now. Unless you wanted to go inside and find a bed so we have more space for activities."

"It's not the getting away I'm concerned about," she murmured, catching his gaze again and wrapping her arm around his waist. "I know it's tiring, and it hurts. But you know we're here when you need us, and want us."

Andy rested her head against his chin, nuzzling into his chest gently. "No extra activities necessary yet, but we'll see about later," she chuckled. "Just let me hold you for a while."

That was the difficult part when it really hit him. Booker wanted nothing and cared for nothing except occasionally his next drink. They could talk about it another time though. She's relaxed and he wanted her to stay that way.

"Oh, I had no plans to move anywhere," he said with a little chuckle. "Stay as long as you'd likeM mon guerrier."

He would stay right here with her as long as she wanted.

She snorted at the pet name and poked her knuckle into Booker's ribs gently.

"Oh, I'm yours now?" she asked, gentling down with a smile and tilting her head up. "Nap with me, Book."

"And I'm yours." He squirmed away from the poke but there wasn't much room so he couldn't get far. No tickling.

A nap wasn't a bad idea though. He nuzzled against her hair, made sure their legs were tangled together and he had a firm hold of her.

"Sure thing, boss." He closed his eyes and settled his breathing to drift off.

Malta

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