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.

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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.

His laugh warmed her, soul-deep, and the smile in his eyes wrapped around her like a simple, quiet embrace at the end of the day: hello, love. I know you. Both did as much for her as his so evident desire.

In the moment, however, his need pressed. And penetrated. And her breathing grew erratic again as she helped him out with his problem by rolling her pelvis down, which lifted her ass up.

"I feel..." Her fingers curled against his thigh. "Feel no problems... only--" Drugged heavy eyelids wanted to shut, but she forced her eyes open to watch him, them, in the mirror. "Only opportunities."

His smile was feral, and full of heat in the mirror before he bent closer to nip at her neck, teeth grazing her pulse as he slid deep and stopped. He shuddered with the effort not to thrust and growled against her skin as one hand slid between her thighs and found her clit.

"Feel free to elaborate."

God, that smile. Her mouth tingled like she'd just been kissed, so much so that she lifted her hand to touch her lips. Then seeing herself -- and him watching her -- in the mirror, she blew him a kiss.

His fingers against her clit made cleverness as hard as his cock, but she offered gamely, "You could... remind me why we don't spend three days apart often?"

"That sounds like a challenge," and one he was more than up to. He eased out of her, and then back in so how UP he was, was obvious. He did it again, fingers still working over her clit as he watched in the mirror. It was a shame that the chair obscured the view but the look in her eyes was enough for now.

When he pulled out, she loosed a breathy whine of protest. "Very. Effective," she groaned of his demonstration of both his absence and the deep, solid pleasure of his presence.

She offered him a slow, smoky smile in the mirror and the next time he pulled out, she lifted her chest clear of the chair so that he could see more of her, maybe even his fingers as they worked over her clit. "Do...you...remember yet?"

The view was better, but later he was going to use the chair and the mirror to full effect.

The next thrust was a bit deeper, and bit harder. His voice husky and rough as he answered her.

"I remembered when you climbed in the tub with me."

She had her own plan for the chair and the mirror, one that involved him sitting and her kneeling, but there would be time for that later. Maybe much later.

Now, as much as she wanted to put her head down and just receive him, she kept her head and her chest up for him so he could watch her breasts bounce and her mouth shape moans around his name. It couldn't last, her being up off the chair. Her lashes were already fluttering, knees trembling, but still, she smiled at him in the mirror, her expression almost sweet with the love his answer spoke.

"As soon as you texted."

That made him laugh, chest rumbling against her back as he continued to thrust, "Good to know."

Under different circumstances, she might have flushed at the tease of just how physically she experienced her love for him, but with him hard and hungry in her, there was no room for it. Only for a shared laugh as she lowered her head and her chest again to invite him to take what he needed, and then, on a sudden impulse, reached back to find his hand with hers.

What he needed was for her to come with him, stubbornly refusing to climax until she did as well even if the unexpected clasp of her hand made him feel a bit like the shared heart in his chest might explode from all the emotion.

A glance in the mirror showed her Dyson's expression somehow at once soft with love and strong with that oh-so-stubborn look she'd come to know. He wanted her to come again, with him, and he wouldn't let himself go unless she did.

She squeezed his fingers with hers and exhaled, lowered her head so that she could sink into the pleasure. It didn't take long before she trembled at the edge again. If he unleashed himself so he could come, she wouldn't be able to stop herself. Even if for some reason she had wanted to.

Unleashing himself was not something she would have had to ask for twice, particularly after she'd relaxed into it and bared the back of her neck to him which he would wonder later if she knew was a sign of submission in the animal kingdom. For now each thrust was a bit deeper, harder until the pleasure broke and he growled her name as he climaxed.

Regina knew it was a sign of submission, and if she'd been thinking about it, she might have made the gesture intentionally in invitation. As it was, it had been instinctual, at once focusing on her mate and her pleasure and offering herself to him for his. Whatever she'd intended and whatever he'd made of it, deeper and harder was what she needed to come again, this time with him, and her cry of his name mingled with his growl of hers as she finished.

His body draped over hers, chest heaving as his arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let her go.

"Worth waiting three days for."

Certainly not the most comfortable position he'd ever held her in, but she relished it anyhow, maybe even more for being pinned, vulnerable, and yet completely covered and protected. With his chest pressed to her back, the two halves of her heart beat together, and they reached to each other, deepening the union between them.

"Worth waiting most of a lifetime for," she murmured, and meant not the orgasm but the man, the love, the moment.

"You're young yet," he shifted and then lifter her into his arms to carry her to the bed. "We have plenty of life left."

Smiling as she twined her arms around him, she replied, "Plenty of night, too."

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

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