Pops was walking perimeter when she crept into Kyle's bed, putting a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet when he startled awake.
They didn't have long - they never had long, not when Skynet had been replaced by the Feds in her world. Federal agents might not be T-1000s, but they were almost as persistent.
It was enough to make a girl scream in fury. And frustration.
"Sarah?" Kyle murmured against her palm, his breath warm against her skin. She shivered, sliding her fingers over his cheek, giving him space enough to speak. "Everything okay?"
She silenced him with her mouth this time, pressing her lips against his and coaxing them open until she could slide her tongue inside, swallowing down the soft sounds he made.
He sighed, his hands reaching for her as she moved to straddle him, pushing his covers down with her feet. He was sleep-warm beneath her, the heat rising from his body and chasing away the chill in her bones.
It was cold, and their beds were too damned far apart.
She deepened her kiss, muffling the moan he let out as her fingers cupped his face, holding him steady, no room to speak this time. He was so easy sometimes, so pliant when she needed him to be, so strong when she didn't. A sure thing, one of the few she could count on.
She curled into him, her body fitting against his, no space between them now, not even a breath. His fingers stroked meaningless patterns up the length of her spine, tracing the hollows and dips of every vertebra, then over her shoulders, pulling her down against him as his mouth moved under hers. He was wide awake now, eager for her the way he always was, his body arching up even as hers pinned him down.
He'd win if she let him - he was a lot stronger than she was, in so many ways. He'd win.
If she let him.
She wasn't going to let him, not this time. There was an itch under her skin, a sullen need to say fuck you to the universe for not letting them catch a breath before it threw something else at them. First terminators then feds, when all she wanted was to curl up next to Kyle, let the warmth of him sink into her skin, and sleep for the next hundred goddamned years.
But she had this, at least. One small fucking victory that meant more than all of the losses combined.
When she pulled back, Kyle tried to follow her, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he chased her kisses, his eyes wide and grey in the dim light, shining like starlight, like gunfire. She placed her hand firmly in the middle of his chest, stopped him dead with a look, with a prayer.
Pops had taught her the principles - use your opponent's weaknesses against them. It was easy, so easy, to use that leverage - her hand against his heart - to sit up and settle her ass on top of his dick.
He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut again as she ground down against him, still holding him in place, still pushing him down. It didn't take much, just the slightest pressure, and then she had him flat on his back again, willing to do whatever she wanted.
She wanted this, wanted him. Her hands traced the lines of his body, so whole and hale, so hers. Her fingers traced over his chest, across the breadth of his shoulders, down his arms. She mapped all of his scars, one by one, until she'd reached his wrists.
His pulse beat strong and steady against her fingertips.
His eyes were open again when she looked, nothing but bright grey crescents underneath heavy lids. His pupils were already wide and dark, his lips parted on the breath that had caught in the back of his throat, and she smiled at him, shark-sharp and hungry. He shuddered beneath her, fine tremors running along the skin beneath her fingertips.
She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, watching him closely as she pushed his hands up, up and up until she had them pinned next to his head. When she leaned over him again, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, bask in the heat rising from his body, see the look in his eyes.
"Don't move." The words brushed against his mouth, and his tongue slid out to trace the feel of them against his lower lip, lush and full of promise. "If you move, I stop."
She pulled back just far enough to see his nod, and smiled at him again, a victor's smile, letting him see the unspoken 'good boy' in her eyes, and to feel it in her touch.
When she sat back this time, his dick was hard and hot where it pressed against her. She sighed, rocking her hips, letting the length of it slide between her legs and rub against her clit through the fabric of her clothing.
Kyle let out another sound, something half bitten off, low and needy, his eyes closed as he strained against her. She let go of one wrist, placing her palm family across his mouth again, silencing him, pressing the sound back into him. His eyes flew open again and he caught her gaze, nodding jerkily when he also caught her meaning.
He shuddered again when she finally moved her hand from his mouth to his wrist, pressing down harder this time as she rolled her hips, grinding down against him now, hard and fast as she considered her options.
She could use her mouth on him, let her fingers press bruises into his hips as she pinned him down, knowing he'd leave his hands by his head if that was what she wanted. Or she could pin his shoulders down with her calves, use his mouth to bring her off, her fingers buried in his hair.
Both had their appeal, but his dick was still pressing against her, thick and glorious, and she wanted it in her so badly she could almost taste it.
She pushed herself up enough to slide one hand into his shorts, easing his hardness free of the fabric and roughly jerking it once, twice, just to feel Kyle buck into her touch, his lower lip caught between his teeth to keep the noises he wanted to make inside. His dick was damp at the tip, pre-come already leaking from it, and she used her fingertips to spread the moisture around, sliding her fingers down the shaft.
Kyle let out another sound, barely heard, caught behind his teeth, and when she looked back up at his face, his brow was furrowed, and the muscles in his neck so tight that she thought they'd snap as he tried to hold it in, keep it together. Keep himself together, for her.
She hadn't even begun to drive him out of his mind.
She let go of his dick for long enough to slide her own shorts down over her hips, her body forming an awkward plank as she tried to kick them off and stay straddled over him. It wasn't her smoothest move, but Kyle didn't care, not judging by the way he was looking at her, like she was something fucking holy.
She didn't bother with a condom, not this time, not giving in to the paranoia that had her usually taking a belt and braces approach to sex with him, every form of fucking contraceptive going, all at once. This wasn't about the future or Skynet or John. This was about him, and her, and them. This was about her fucking his brains out, and burning out all of that fury and frustration that flowed through the both of them.
This time when she rocked her hips against him, his dick slid against the slick wetness between her thighs. She muffled the gasp he let out with another fierce kiss, lifting her hips just high enough so that she could reach down between their bodies and guide him into her.
He pushed his hips up, but she went with him, not letting him sink in any deeper, only the first inch or so of him in her cunt. He tried again, the look in his eyes desperate as he stared up at her, but again she moved with him, letting the edges of her mouth curl up at the sound frustration he let out, soft and low.
Kyle was smart and learned quickly - he didn't try a third time.
Her smile turned pleased, and she reached for his wrists again, using her grip on them to brace herself as she began to move, letting his dick slide further into her each time she lowered herself, letting her body adjust to his thickness.
God, this was what she needed, Kyle's dick as deep in her as she could get, the feel of the tension in his body as he held back his instinctive need to thrust up, letting her use him anyway she wanted. For as long as she wanted.
She'd never stop wanting this.
Kyle's wrists flexed in her grip, his fingers curling towards his palms, little twitches and shudders each time she took more of him into her. The need for her was thrumming through him, through her, and she spread her thighs wider apart, sank down onto him, deeper and deeper until she'd taken every inch.
His eyes opened, but he didn't see her, nothing but blind pleasure in his gaze as she rocked, only letting an inch or two of his length slide out of her before sinking down onto him again, over and over, feeling the pleasure build.
For both of them. She was close and so was Kyle; she could feel it in the strain in his wrists, in the tightness of his stomach, in the harshness of his breath. Hear it in the low whine at the end of every exhalation, in the way he breathed her name, making it sound like a prayer and curse both at once.
She kissed him again, all tongue and teeth, hard and fast and merciless. There was blood on her lip, his breath in her lungs, and Kyle was straining against her, begging her so prettily with each whispered please.
He was closer than she was, and she stopped, waited him out while he twisted and cursed, keeping it low and quiet because Kyle was smart, and Kyle learned.
And Kyle wanted her to finish it, finish him.
She waited until some of the tension had leached from his form, until his eyes were less frantic and his mouth was made more for kissing than cursing. And then, only then, did she move again, her pace slow and steady, giving her the friction she sought.
Kyle's body was hard under hers, and she leaned forward, sliding her hands from his wrists down over his palms and angling herself so that the firm flesh above his dick was pressing against her clit. Her breasts were brushing his chest with each stroke, sending delicious shivers through her, the kind that left her mouth dry and her pussy wet.
Kyle's fingers wrapped around hers. His eyes were focused on her now, watching each gasp, every shiver with a kind of breathless anticipation. She was close, so damned close; her mouth found his, and her kiss was clumsy, as wet and open as she was, her breath shuddering out of her as heat curled through her belly, along her thighs, settling in her cunt.
She came, hard and fast, and this time she muffled her cries with his mouth.
Kyle was still watching her when she finally came back down to earth from that high, his eyes warm and a little desperate, his dick still hard and hot inside her. She uncurled her fingers, sliding them through his, and braced herself against his chest again. This time she gave him what he needed, not what she wanted - long, firm strokes, her hips rising and falling in the perfect rhythm to make him come. She watched his face as she moved on him, the way his brow furrowed and his lips parted every time she tightened the muscles of her pussy around him, the way his tongue darted out to lick at his lips when she curled her fingers, digging her blunt nails into his chest.
She was leaving marks, small crescents of white curving into his flesh. Maybe they'd even last until the morning.
Sarah was here. She came, she saw, she conquered, and in the process she made Kyle come, too.
She bit back on the giggle that wanted to rise to the surface, her body loose and buzzing pleasantly, the sensation of Kyle's hard dick still sliding into and out of her sending lovely little frissons of exhausted pleasure running through her. He was close again; she could feel it in the way that his dick was thickening, see it in the way his fingers were flexing helplessly, like he wanted to reach for her but was keeping his hands exactly where she'd left them because that was what he thought she wanted.
And Kyle was all about what she wanted. All about it.
And right now, she was all about him.
She picked up the pace, moving faster now, giving him the friction, the fury he needed. His eyes flew open again, meeting hers desperately for a moment before he squeezed them shut, his fingers finally finding her hips and pulling her down, hard against him as he bucked up against her, his hips stuttering, her name on his lips as he came inside her.
She waited him out again, his dick still thick inside her, until his grip loosened and his eyes drifted open again, dazed pleasure in their depths. The smile he gave her was soft, and sweet, as much Kyle as gunpowder and adrenaline and just as deadly. When he pulled her down, she went willingly. All the way down until she was curled against his chest, his fingers threaded through her hair and her head tucked under his chin like it belonged there.
Like she belonged there.
"Sarah," he murmured, and her name on his lips still sounded like a prayer and a plea, all rolled into one, soft at the edges and solid, oh-so-solid at the centre. "God, I love you."
She closed her eyes and held on.