st_oriedqueen | [For Dyson] love's horse will carry you home

Entry tags:

dyson,
regina mills

[For Dyson] love's horse will carry you home

As evening fell over the Beara Peninsula, Ireland, Regina dismounted the gorgeous, dapple grey Irish hunter she'd spent the better part of three days riding. She ran the stirrups up on the saddle, loosened the girth, and then lifted the reins over the mare's head.

While she walked the mare, she pulled out her cell-phone. It had been three days since she had spoken to Dyson, although she'd caught sight of his wolf a few times, and she missed him. She sent a quick text to let him know she was back.

At the stables. Need a bath, but then I'm all yours.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That wasn't the wolf junk she was most interested in," he grinned at the memory, "But Bo's body retained her powers and the guy she swapped with used them, though he had no control over them. So Kenzie probably could have shifted with some effort."

Regina swept a brow upward and leaned in to kiss the corner of his jaw. "That shows a shocking lack of imagination on her part. Getting you off would've been the first thing I did in your body." Maybe. Depending on the circumstances. As his girlfriend, it wouldn't have been as much of an invasion, but, "Of course, I'd have made sure you were there to watch, as me, so you could feel how I reacted."

After that, she would've tried out being a wolf. It fascinated her, much as Maleficent shifting into a dragon always had.

"Had she been in there much longer..." she might have "But we were a bit distracted trying to figure out which one of us was a homicidal maniac. Time wasn't on our side."

"I imagine that would've put a damper on sexual experimentation, yes," she replied, a light tease to her voice. "What happened in the end?"

Even here in a warm bath (mm, not quite warm enough, by this point, and she quickly reheated it with one of her earliest spells), she found herself as interested in the story as provoking him toward sex. If she wanted to make love, a kiss and the scrape of her teeth against his neck would put them on that page, but what she wanted was to be with him and know him. For all the time they had at the Inn, to have this time alone was a true treat.

"The killer escaped in Lauren's body, and only a human like her could leave to stop her before she started a fae world war, so I went after her... in Kenzie's body. Luckily I didn't have to fight." He'd been able to save Lachlan using his knowledge of the Ash's chamber.

He bent to nuzzle her neck as the water warmed again, grinning against her skin.

"I used my wits." and he used them now as he traced her side with his fingers down to her hip and across her abdomen.

His fingers provoked a soft shudder along her spine, resting where they were, and combined with his mouth against he neck. Eyes already darkening with the familiar stirring of desire, she lifted her head to read his face, raised an eyebrow with it to interrogate his intentions.

"Are you applying your wits now to the problem of me talking instead of satisfying other needs that three days apart have generated?" Her lips curved around the words and offered him a lovely little smile. "Or just touching me because you can and distracting me amuses you?"

"I am applying my wits to multitasking between talking and touching," he liked talking to her, however much three days apart might have made him crave her body he craved her company just as much.

"Mm. You're a gifted multitasker, love, never let it be said otherwise." Eyes bright and feeling warm and loose with affection, Regina leaned in close and nuzzled her nose and lips against his neck. "Did anything interesting happen while you were wolf-shaped?"

"Nothing of note," he shifted, then and pushed to his feet with her in his arms as the water poured off of them. "Good hunting, lots of wolf things to be done. But nothing more exciting than nature usually is."

He set her on her feet and with one hand he snagged a towel and dried himself with a few quick strokes before wrapping the towel around her and using it to pull her close. Then he bent, laving the drops of water off her skin before capturing the rosebud tip of one breast to suckle.

"Someday, I will learn a spell to shapeshift into a wolf so I can run with you," Regina began brightly enough, and she had been giving some attention to it, but getting his passion back was by far the more important magical task, so not as much as she might have otherwise.

His tongue on her skin replaced the brightness with something warmer and smokier, distracting her from magical plans toward a more intimate, more natural magic. Sighing a deep, sexual contentment and rising interest at the pull of his mouth, she lifted her ribcage to offer her breast to him.

"Three nights but it feels like weeks. I blame having a huge handsome beast between my thighs."

"Not quite between your thighs yet," he murmured against her damp skin, stroking hands lower to her hips and dropping to his knees. "Or was that a request?"

It was a reference to the horse she'd been riding, but she felt fairly sure he'd just taken the opportunity she presented him with and run with it. She was certainly not going to complain.

Eyes already heavy-lidded, she smiled down at him and stroked her fingers through his hair. "Less of a request, more of a to-do list."

"Number one, bathe." His tongue traced the curve of her hip picking up stray drops of water and he nuzzled damp curls inhaling the scent of freshly cleaned skin and her arousal. "Number two, get wet?"

He didn't wait for a response, looking for the answer with his tongue.

"Number three, get off," she managed before his tongue swiped at her labia and drew a sharp breathy sound from her.

Knowing he'd hold her up, she reached for him instead of something else to stabilize her. One hand found his shoulder and the other curled into his hair.

"Feel free to include 'get on' and repeat as often as you can 'get up'." What? She had to get the words out now, because he knew exactly how to strip her of them and it was coming on fast.

His laugh forced air over sensitive skin, “I will keep that in mind. Particularly as I have plans for that armchair in the other room.”

But first he focused on her, using his lips and tongue to devastating effect before capturing her clit, circling with his tongue and sucking lightly at first, then again. Circle and suck, but firmer.

"I... fuck, love..." Her hands clenched tighter as her knees started to shake. The vulnerability of having to trust him to hold her up did things to her. "I--love a man with plans."

The words came out in a rush, right ahead of a keening moan that he knew very very well. It meant a collection of things -- soon, more, love you, need you, please -- and at the moment it encompassed all of them, since her vision was blurring and her cunt ached, throbbing around the emptiness that his plans for the chair promised to fill.

His hands occupied with supporting her weight he couldn't use fingers but he had a clever mouth and an inventive tongue that danced over her flesh dipping into her then back to her clit. His own arousal was evident but he ignored it for the moment. Focused on her scent, her taste and the fact that three days had been too long to be apart.

If she weren't panting, hips rolling with every thrust and lash of his tongue, she would have taken him in hand magically, or rubbed him off with her foot. As it was, she couldn't form a coherent thought to do anything but stroke his hair and whimper his name over and over.

His tongue danced, dipped, filled her, and every time, her moans pitched higher and her arousal coiled tighter, until she couldn't hold on any longer and broke into the sweet, fluting spasms she'd never felt with anyone but him.

He liked the sound of his name on her lips almost as much as he liked the noise she made as she climaxed and she could probably feel his grin against her thigh. Before she had a chance to come down fully he was on his feet and had her in his arms to carry her into the bedroom.

Oh, yes, she felt him grinning, and once it might have irritated her, but now it just made her feel warm and flushed--and curious about his plans for the armchair. Not that there was much time to think about it between her climax and finding herself caught up in his arms against his chest.

She slipped an arm around his neck and shifted enough that she could help him balance her weight (not that he needed the help, but she tried not to take that for granted), and in the meantime, nipped softly at his neck.

He might have growled softly when her teeth scraped his skin, but the way he tilted his head to allow her better access belied his enjoyment even more.

In the bedroom he slid her body to body so her feet were on the floor, his arousal high and hard between them before finding her mouth with his. The kiss was a carnal promise, hot and devouring before he urged her to turn around, the back of the arm chair she would find was just the right height to support her hips if she bent over it and padded enough that it should be comfortable.

That there was a mirror across the room that she would be able to see them in was a happy coincidence.

Regina took the access he offered and sucked a hot, hard kiss against her teeth until she felt the heat of capillaries bursting beneath the skin. Then brushed her lips over the mark in loving benediction before she gave her mouth up to his hunger.

As well he'd chosen furniture to support her, because as soon as she recognized his intention, she lost control of her knees which went to jelly. She tossed him a heavy-lidded glance over her shoulder while she arranged herself, legs spread wide enough to offer both view and welcome, then fixed her gaze on him in the happily coincidental mirror.

He'd thought she would appreciate the chair. His smile was feral and his eyes flashed yellow and went dark as he surveyed the view.

Then his body was on hers, tawny skin draped over pale, hard where she was soft and the sound of primal pleasure he made as he slid into her echoed.

"Three days," he murmured hoarsely, "Was too long."

Regina appreciated many things about Dyson, not least that he didn't waste his words. He often said more in five words than most people did in entire paragraphs, and Three days was too long was no exception.

Even now, she felt tears prick behind her eyelids for the admission of desire, longing, need, and simply missing her. And once she'd breathed through the rush of him taking her, she looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror, while reaching back for his hand or simply to caress his thigh.

"Absence makes the cock grow harder?" she offered, low and breathlessly, trusting him to hear the for me, too behind the tease.

He chuckled, and his eyes met hers in the mirror, full of her and full of what she hadn't said.

"Any harder and we might," he slid out of her slowly, and then thrust again as he watched her face. "And we might have a problem."

She felt incredible wrapped around his length, wet pliant heat and those eyes. Then he thrust again, then again just a little bit harder, a little bit faster.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject