|Current music:||The Sweetest Thing|
089 work, fanfic100, pryde/wisdom
Title: Mood Elevator
Prompt: 089 Work
A/N: This was written before infinitepryde finished the Salvage-saga, but it ends up being my take on what happens after the epilogue. Kitty has made a decision vis-a-vis staying with MI-13.
It's also a somewhat-sequel to my fic “Laws of Mathematics.”
However, even the worst of Pete Wisdom's bad moods cannot withstand the assault that it takes when she, without preamble, locks the door behind her and crosses the distance between them to kiss him fiercely.
He's momentarily shocked, and it takes him a second to respond. She notices his supposed hesitation and pulls back briefly. He slides one hand up her back and into her hair, pulling her to him again to kiss her properly, enjoying the feelings and sensations she evokes. As always, kissing Pryde makes him feel like no one else ever has.
He pulls back this time, and she tilts her head quizically, but he takes her hand and pratically drags her to the sofa that adorns his small but comfortable office. She smiles in understanding and sinks down with him onto it, pulling him closer and kissing him again.
When her hands slide down to his tie and start loosening it, he obliges by leaning back as far as he can while still kissing her. But, not one to be outpaced at the moment, he drops his hands to the buttons on her simple grey button-down shirt.
She moans into his mouth when his hand makes its way inside the open shirt and finally get good purchase on her breasts, tweaking her nipples through her simple lace bra. She pushes him backwards, suddenly, and he falls all too willingly. Pete Wisdom has never been one to mind a woman in charge. Particularly not in this capacity.
Besides, this angle gives him much better access to finish removing her shirt, and he quickly makes short work of her bra as well, so that his hands can work her breasts in earnest, earning him another gut-wrenching kiss as she finishes getting his shirt off of him, as well.
Once they're both naked from the waist up, Kitty stands, grinning when he makes a noise of deprivation. She speaks for the first time since entering the office. “Don't worry, Wisdom. I'm not going anywhere.”
She phases out of her trousers, knickers, stockings and shoes simultaneously, stepping out of the puddle of clothing left sitting at her feet. He scrambles to get his own trousers off, which is made considerably more difficult by the fact that he can't tear vivid, blue eyes from her naked body.
She stands there, observing the process with a smouldering look on her face. He's the one who taught her that look, and at this moment, he doesn't think he's ever been prouder of anything in his entire existence.
Trousers, boxers, shoes and socks quickly join the pile of clothing on the floor. It's Pryde's turn to stare now, and she does so freely for a few seconds before climbing back on top of him and kissing him again. He can barely keep up as she threads fingers in his hair and attacks his lips, neck, ears, and jaw with a torturously heated assault. When he finally manages to get one hand in between them and onto a breast again, she lets out a breathy sound that he feels all the way down to his toes.
Suddenly, she slides one of her own hands downward, wrapping itself around him deftly. He's already nearly fully aroused from her passionate sneak attack, and she's more than skilled enough to quickly elevate that to full-blown need in a matter of minutes as she works him exactly the way that he taught her so long ago that it would feel like a wonderful dream, really, were it not for the gorgeous brunette currenlty providing evidence to the contrary.
It's too slow, though, and she knows it. She's deliberately going just slow enough and keeping the pressure just light enough to drive him nearly insane. He groans and leans upward slightly to run his tongue around her ear before planting a wet, sucking kiss on her throat, earning a few more of those delicious sounds for his efforts.
She's wet. He can feel it from where she's rubbing against his thigh while her hand continues tormenting him in a way that could easily get him to do or say anything if she asked. He wonders why more operatives didn't employ this particular method of torture. It'd be more effective than the old dark room, loud music routine.
The hand not currently lavishing attention on her perfect breasts slides down and quickly maneuvers its way through her folds, finding its target with missle-like precision and she cries out loudly enough to make him glad that MI-13 offices are soundproof. He moves just as slowly as she is, and is rewarded by her grinding down on his hand in an attempt to get pressure where she wants it.
All at once, she removes her hand and he can't stop the involuntary gron from tearing its way out of his throat and she smirks, sitting up and shifting so that she can position him at her entrance. She sinks onto him without any more preamble and makes the most fantastic noise he's ever heard once he's fully inside. Although, she'll tell him later that she has no idea how he could hear her with all the noise he's making himself.
She begins to move nearly right away, and the sensation is just as mind-blowing as it always is. Pete decides that, no matter what people have ever said about he and Pryde's relationship, they got this bit completely right.
He knows there is no way on Earth he can last too long with her shimmying her hips the way that she is, and determines that he can only try his damndest to bring her with him. He reaches with his right hand to carress the breasts hanging above him in an all-too tempting way. His left returns to its previous spot between her legs and the double stimulation makes her actually shudder, which only makes his attempt to last just a little bit longer even more difficult.
He doesn't know if he's ever been so relieved as he is when he realizes that she's almost as close as he is. Her moaning has become more rhythmic and she's muttering his name in between her other expletives. He doubles his efforts, but even so, she tightens her muscles around him, and he still comes a few secondss before her, feeling as though she's literally trying to draw his soul from his body before he notices, somewhat smugly, at the back of his mind, that she's shuddering just as hard and spasming around him like someone possessed.
He drops his head backwards onto the arm of the couch, panting and wheezing and attempting to regain his breath. She slumps forward and he can feel himself slide from within her. She plants a wet kiss on his collarbone, curling up on his chest. He barely has the strength to move, but he manages to pull a hand up to brush the matted hair off of her forehead and kisses the sweat-soaked skin there in response.
It's a long time before either of them speaks. It seems like hours, but Pete knows, realistically, it's only been about fifteen minutes.
“I've come to a conclusion.”
“So have I. You're a textbook nymphomaniac.” Pete snorts, and she lifts an arm to swat him on the chest.
“No. Not about that.”
“Oh? What then?” He's drawing random patterns on her back with his fingertip, and she shivers slightly, but he knows it's not with cold.
“I don't think I'll be going back.”
“If it's all right with you, I think I'd like to stay here.” She tucks her head up underneath his chin and his heart turns over.
“It's fine with me, but explaining a naked girl on my couch to the Prime Minister might be interesting.” He shrugs beneath her, and she rolls her eyes.
“Ass. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. An' of course it's all right, Pryde. You know I'd be happy as fuck if you stay.”
“So what brought this on?” He can't help it. He's a spy. He wants to know.
“Let's just say you might want to buy Brian dinner sometime, and leave it at that.” Kitty sits up, suddenly, reaching for her clothes. “Speaking of which, I've got to go. I've got a meeting with Alistaire and Brian in about thirty minutes about a new system for the main office and I should probably shower.” She pulls her clothes on, buttoning her shirt, but not tucking it in.
“All right. And then how about you let me buy you lunch, Pryde?” He's dressed now, too, and she leans forward to fix his tie. The domesticity of the moment makes his heart flip again.
“Are you asking me out, Wisdom?” She smiles.
“I think I might be, Pryde.”