missingthekeep | (no subject)

There's a tiny part of her that never quite believes that, but it's effectively silenced now, guilt and doubt shoved wholly aside as Meredith stretches under him. Thoughts of her bruises go with them. Self-consciousness can't last long when he makes her feel like this so easily, everything he's doing running straight through her, making her gasp. That sharp, sudden intake of breath hurts still, but she tries to ignores that, too, her head falling back against the pillow, hand finding the back of his neck. "With you, I do," she says, moaning as she glances down to see him with his mouth around her. "Sean..."

Sean's first instinct at hearing any sort of limitation on that is to dispute it, but he shuts that thought up quickly enough; maybe he's nothing special, but it's not as if he wants her doing this with anyone else. "Meredith..." Lifting his head, he recaptures her lips with his own for a few long seconds, a lot of the urgency gone out of him now that he's actually got her the way he wants her, before he goes back to trailing soft kisses along her chest, between her breasts and lower.

Though it's tempting just to close her eyes, Meredith keeps watching him, trying to slow her breathing again. She rakes a hand through her hair, the careful, even breaths she takes at odds with her racing heart. Trying hard to keep still, she can't help squirming a little anyway. Even looking at him, knowing what he's doing, the faint pang accompanying the feel of his mouth on bruised skin manages to surprise her. That one, at least, isn't entirely unpleasant, or if it is, she misses it, lost somewhere beneath the growing anticipation. Her breath catches and sticks in her throat and she holds it without entirely noticing.

Sean's careful, keeping things light as he inches his way down to her stomach, but his eyes flick up to her face as he does, almost afraid of looking down again. "'Sat hurt?" he cautiously asks, still close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin.

The lie she wants to give sticks in her throat, too, and Meredith bites her lip a moment, not wanting to be brought back down to earth by questions like this. It's barely anything and he's so close to her; she just wants him to keep going, to forget for a moment that she's still not quite healed. "A little," she says, reaching down to touch his cheek. "Not really."

"Sorry," Sean whispers automatically, but he doesn't pull away, instead forcing himself to take in the bruises again as he noses gently along her belly. There's no forgetting about them for him, not right now, no matter how much he wishes that weren't the case.

Meredith shakes her head. "It's okay," she says. "It feels good more than it hurts." As long as that stays true, she decides, she's entirely justified in rushing a little, and she can't see how it could possibly change. Her desire to make him feel less like he needs to apologize fades as he moves, worry replaced with wanting as she arches unthinkingly toward him.

Sean's about to protest, unthinking, about how it shouldn't hurt at all, but then she's pressing up toward him and his mouth's on her once more, with far more important things to do than complain. Lingering with his lips roaming the skin just above the top of her jeans as he settles between her thighs, he runs one hand back down the leg she's got around him while the other smooths carefully over her stomach. "Ye're so beautiful," he says, his words a slurred sigh as he looks up at her. Dimly, he's aware that she likely just wants him to just get on with it already, but for some reason, the observation seems like an important one right now.

Meredith ducks her head a little, smiling. She's aching for more, so aware of him, his touch, his breath on her skin, but it's been so long that she sees no reason to rush. Not, anyway, when he's going to say things like that. The way he looks at her and sounds — when he says it, she believes him. "Am I?" she asks anyway, a little breathy. She bites her lip and her tone turns teasing. "You're pretty hot yourself." As far as she's concerned, it's the understatement of the year, but she always feels a little self-conscious, expressing in words just how ridiculously attractive she finds him, like it isn't evident already.

While he's still not in any great rush, happy to be right where he is, that does light a bit of a fire beneath him, and Sean grins, stifling a quiet laugh against her hip. "Am I?" he asks, too innocently pleased with the notion to act otherwise right now as he moves to undo her jeans.

"Don't laugh at me," Meredith says, but she can't quite shake that hazy little smile on her face. "You are. You're..." She can never quite figure out the word she wants, and it's not any easier now with him where he is. "Very sexy." It comes out almost a sigh. Licking her lips, she slips a hand under herself to unclasp her bra, never quite looking away.

She's got him mesmerized as it is, and that added distraction proves almost too much as Sean only barely resists the urge to go back to his previous task once her bra's out of the way. In the end, he compromises, reaching up to cup a breast with one hand while he slowly tugs her pants down her hips with the other. "Whate'er I am, luv," he says, husky-voiced as he rakes his eyes across her body, bruises and all, "ye're doin' yer damnedest t'leave me in the dust."

Meredith moans softly, pressing up into his hand a moment before she focuses on lifting her hips instead. Settling on slipping a hand over his, she squirms under him, desperate for more after going without for too long. The more of her skin is exposed, the more she wants him to touch. "Well, it helps that I'm losing all my clothes," she says with a crooked grin, her injuries all but forgotten for now. "You'll catch up. God, Sean..."

"That is a plus, aye," Sean says, helping that line of thinking right along as he pulls her jeans off. He really hates having to move in order to do so, perfectly content right where he is, but he doesn't actually want to make her wait forever, so it proves to be a worthwhile sacrifice on his end. Really, anything that reveals more of that glorious body of hers (fragile, maybe, but aren't they all?) would just about have to.

Meredith moves to accommodate him, raising her legs, flexing her toes. She stretches, arms moving up over her head, just enjoying the freedom of it. That lasts a bare moment or two before she hooks a leg over his shoulder to draw him closer again, laughing a little. Anything that brings him nearer works for her; she's hyper-aware of the way her pulse seems to have settled between her legs, of how badly she wants him to follow suit. "Definitely a plus," she says. "I'm completely in favor of less clothes."

Sean groans as he lays back down, his sense of relaxation fighting a losing battle against the rush of desire that courses through him. He should have seen it coming, really. It's always right when he feels like he's in control of a situation, of himself, that she reels him in like the vixen she is. "Here, here," he says, likely rendered entirely incoherent as he turns his head to press a long, sucking kiss to her thigh.

Eyelids fluttering shut, Meredith sighs, head tipping back, and she reaches blindly to touch his face, his hair, his shoulder, anywhere her fingers can brush. Mixed in with all the longing, the need, the arousal, there's something like relief. After what seems like an eternity of feeling useless, broken, stupid for getting herself in this mess of hers and for not being able to fix his, it's so overwhelmingly good just to feel like this again: sensual, desirable. In control, as much as either of them ever are here. Her other hand trailing carefully down over her body, she hooks her thumb in the waistband of her panties, tugging them lower, barely noticing herself talk when she murmurs, "I want you so much right now. Or always. You always make me so... I want you so much."

The feeling is more than mutual, and Sean makes a quiet, desperate noise low in his throat as he lifts her legs over his head to slide her panties off without getting up. "An' ye've got me," he whispers, not for the first time and never for the last. While he's still perfectly happy to take things slowly, however, that doesn't mean he has the willpower to keep from going for more when it's right in front of him, and there's no further hesitation on his end before he ducks his head to place another slow, open-mouthed kiss right where she wants him.

Meredith moans, heels pressing into his back, fighting not to just buck into it. She doesn't want to rush; she just wants more and she knows she'll get it in time. It's just that patience isn't a strong point for her, least of all with this. Besides, for reasons she hasn't had a chance to identify, she couldn't help thinking For how long? and the last thing she wants on her mind now is the idea they're running out of time. It's so much better to be aware only that she has him now.

Maybe all of the concerns that have been plaguing Sean as of late don't entirely go away when she wraps herself around him like that, but they sure as hell keep their distance. They'll be back, and the certainty of that is a hindrance all on its own, but it's one he can handle. It's too easy to get lost in this, in the way she tastes and smells, her moans and little touches, igniting all of his senses as he languidly mouths her. Maybe he's not as precise as usual, as deliberate as he would have been sober, but he's still as practiced as ever, humming some meaningless affirmation as he runs his tongue over her clit. He can't think about whether or not anything can truly be forever right now, not when he can barely think at all.

One hand curled in the pillow over her head, the other tangled in his hair, Meredith relaxes. Oh, her hips still strain toward that amazing mouth of his, her whole body strains toward him, and a particularly sharp gasp reminds her that she's not altogether well yet, but she can't think how long it's been since she just felt good. She doesn't want to think about it, so she doesn't, she can't, not like this. All that rest has never felt especially relaxing, not for her, but at least for now, all the worries, everything that's been in her way, can be forgotten for a little while. Sober or not (she won't think about it), he's good at this, setting off sparks, drawing soft, high sounds from her over and over again, reminding her just how well he knows her.

This is it, Sean thinks as his fingers trace delicate patterns across her hips and he increases the pace he's set with lips and tongue, anything to get more of those brilliant sounds out of her. This is all he's got to live for right now, and while the thought that she's all he's got going for him is far from a new one, it doesn't strike him as all that depressing right this second. It's been easy to forget for these past weeks, while having to watch her hurt and recuperating, but having Meredith by his side... it's a hell of a thing to have in his favour.

Meredith closes her eyes, holding on tight, trying to make this last as long as she can though she can already feel that familiar pressure building, every touch, every stroke of his tongue, leaving her feeling warm and blissfully hazy. Keeping track of her mostly wordless reactions is beyond her and she likes it that way. With the way things are, it's a relief not to be thinking about anything but him and only good things at that, making her want to give in absolutely, caught between chasing as much as she can get right now and drawing it out. She arches desperately against him, breath catching in her throat, as he brings her closer no matter what she chooses.

She's in no rush to finish and Sean's in no rush to quit, but it always comes down to wanting more from her, wanting to up the ante, and as he draws her into his mouth, gently sucking while his tongue never stops, he's watching her reactions with every ounce of concentration that he can muster. Caressing her thigh with one hand, he reaches up to grab hold of her own with his other, unthinking and oddly needy as he wraps his fingers around hers.

At that, Meredith opens her eyes, squeezing his hand as she looks at him again. Meeting his gaze, her heart skips a beat, and she can't bite her lip anymore, lips parting for another gasp, a low moan, cheeks flushed. It shouldn't be possible for him to be so gorgeous at this angle, in this position, but need rushes through her all over again all the same. She just keeps watching him in return, right up until he pushes her right over the edge and she's tensing, shuddering, crying out as she comes, toes pointing and head tipping back while it hits her in waves, makes her electric. She doesn't let go of his hand.