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My one and only

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He was spellbound, unable to tear his eyes away from her, couldn’t stop watching her move and pose and flirt with the camera. The little black dress she had on barely reached the tops of her slender thighs, the thin straps holding it in place threatened to slide down her shoulders at any moment. But as always, she was in control, knew exactly what she was doing, how to turn and position her body at just the right angle.  


She knew .


She was also perfectly aware of what she was doing to him, the effect she had on him just by looking at him, that she was driving him positively mad with desire. 


Every now and then she snuck a glance over to where he was sitting, perched in an armchair on the other side of the room, the picture of nonchalance. 


A smile ghosted her lips. 


Her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly.


Tell-tale signs that she was not completely unaffected by the situation. 


She had asked him a few days ago if he wanted to watch her do an upcoming photoshoot she’d agreed upon. It would be at home of course, lock down style, with only her, a laptop, and the photographer on the other side of the screen. 


He had hesitated at first, not wanting to intrude on her professional life but she had talked him into it; It’s not like you have better things to do. I promise it’ll be fun! And you never know, she’d added with a sly smile, there might be something in it for you too. No one needs to know you’re there....  


That was all the persuasion he needed, and besides, he was bored out of his mind these days, following government regulations and staying hunkered down in their flat, even with the activities they came up with to pass the time. 


She had promised it would be fun. Now, sitting here watching his wife seduce the camera with both eyes and body, clad in nothing but a little black dress, fun wasn’t necessarily the word he would use to describe the experience. 


Excruciating maybe. Insanely hot. Painful. But definitely not fun.


She had told him to pour himself a dram and wait for her in the room they used as an office while she was getting ready, but nothing could have prepared him for what was to come. 


He’d stopped breathing at the sight of her, the second she’d walked into the room. The dress clinging to her curves just right, her hair perfectly messy, her lips dark red, plump and irresistible. Her eyes had found his, letting him know that even if the photos that would be the result of this thing might be for everyone to see, this , what was happening right here and now, was for his eyes only.


Sam adjusted himself in the chair in an effort to get comfortable, but it didn’t help much. He knew with certainty that he had never been more turned on in his forty years of life than he was right now. At least it felt that way. His dick had grown achingly hard by now and he cursed himself for wearing jeans far too tight. What he wouldn’t give to rip them off, walk over to her and just take her right there on the desk, or against the wall... fuck , the floor would do at this point.  


With his mind spiraling, imagining all the things he wanted to do to her, or he wanted her to do to him, he drew a breath of relief when he realized the shoot was coming to an end. He was granted a moment's respite as Caitríona sat down by the laptop to wrap things up with the photographer but as thankful as he was for the pause, he also felt the anticipation build even more thinking of what might happen next. 


Looking at her where she was sitting behind the desk, chatting away in that easy going way she had with everyone, it once again struck him how fortunate he was to be hers. How lucky he was that she was his . That this unbelievably gorgeous creature over there had chosen him, to worship and adore and love and make love to and fuck, which he was pretty confident was the plan for tonight. And who was he to deny her that


Sam smirked at the thought. One way or another she always seemed to get what she wanted, and luckily for him, more times than not, what she wanted was him. 


He took a sip from the golden liquid he’d placed on the small side table to his right in an attempt to steady his nerves, and watched with racing heart as she closed the laptop and got up from the chair. Her blue eyes locked with his, her gaze sending jolts of electricity through him while she slowly sauntered over to where he was sitting. 


He set the glass back down onto the table and rubbed his damp palms against the worn fabric of his jeans. Worried his bottom lip with his teeth. 


Swallowed hard. 


But he didn’t take his eyes off her.


Why the fuck was he so nervous? How in the world did she manage to make him feel like a 16-year-old boy about to lose his virginity all over again? It was hardly their first time together.


He couldn’t explain it, the power she held over him, and just like his character he asked himself the same question, is it usual what it was between them…? 


Unlike Jamie he hadn’t dared to actually ask her. She would undoubtedly laugh at him and tell him to get a grip, and then go on to lecture him on how they were most certainly not the people they portrayed on screen. 


Obviously he knew that, but all the same couldn’t let go of the feeling there was a connection, some higher purpose if you will. It was through this story that they had met, through this adventure they’d learned of love and sacrifice and had fallen for each other. There was no denying that the power Caitríona held over him was the same, if not greater, than what Claire and Jamie had. 


It was foolish of him to think like that, but it didn’t make him believe it any less -  that they were meant to be. After all, she’d said it herself for the whole world to hear; the stars had aligned the day they met, and who were they to fight against it?


She stopped right in front of him, stepped out of her heels and kicked them off to one side. Still looking him straight in the eyes she tilted her head and licked her lips, pulled her fingers through her hair. 


"Did you like what you saw?" she asked, voice low. 


Seductive .


"Yes," he answered, throat and mouth suddenly very dry. "Very much."


"That’s all? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words."


She leaned in, hands on either side of him, her lips a mere inch from his.


He smiled, feeling her breath against his skin, catching a faint whiff of white wine. It sent a shiver down his spine.


"No… I guess,” he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I guess you take my breath away." 


"And your words it seems, Mister Heughan."


The way she said his last name like that made his cock twitch. 


"So it seems…" his words trailed off as she pressed her lips to his, cutting him off. It made his head spin, the feel of her lips brushing teasingly against his, giving him just a taste but not nearly enough of what he craved. When she finally parted his lips with the tip of her tongue and found his he gasped, and threaded his fingers into her hair. 


Fuck she tasted good. 


He had to muster all of his self control to not pull her down to his lap, yearning for the feel of her weight against his raging erection. But he knew she had a plan for this and he would let her have her way with him, was more than happy to sit back and enjoy whatever turn this little adventure would take, excruciating as it might be at the moment 


With his hands tangled in her short bob he got lost in the feel of her, in her scent and taste, in the way their mouths fused together, how their tongues intertwined, how she sucked at his bottom lip until he whimpered, making him squirm with unsated need. 


It’s all familiar to him but at the same time there was always something new with her each time they kissed, a new sensation, a new taste, as if there were infinite numbers of ways in which to kiss her. Still it was always her, always his Caitríona.


Finally she broke free from his mouth and sank down onto her knees between his legs, holding his gaze the entire time, refusing to take her eyes off him. Her hands moved down to his thighs, and then slowly trailed upwards as her gaze shifted towards her goal. He breathed heavily and watched her through hooded eyes as her hands drifted closer and closer to his crotch. As her hand settled on his painfully hard bulge and squeezed it a few times she wet her lips and met his gaze. 


“Caitríona,” he breathed, desperation in his voice. 


She palmed him a while longer, keeping eye contact, before finally unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them, along with his boxers down, on his hips. A groan of relief escaped him as his cock was released from it’s confinement. She immediately closed her right hand around its shaft and stroked it languidly a few times, the sensation of skin on skin making his head fall back against the back of the chair.


“Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “That feels so good Cait, God…”


She laughed softly as she continued her ministrations, caressing his belly with her left hand, lettin her fingers trail through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, down to his balls, cupping them, playing with them. As if his parts were hers to do with as she pleased, and she knew she could.


He felt her hot breath on the tip of his cock, throbbing, flushed with blood, her tongue darting out to swipe up the salty moisture gathered there, and could hear her humming in delight as her lips closed around him. His hands were in her hair once more as she started working him with her lips and tongue. Tentatively at first, stopping occasionally to lick and nibble at the vein running from the base of his cock all the way up before taking him inside again. She let him come deeper and deeper each time until he could feel himself brushing against the back of her throat. 


He couldn’t help it, he moaned loudly in time with her movements, the feeling too intense after that long build up just watching her for over an hour. The torture she had put him through forcing him to sit still and be silent despite his need for her. 


And now here she was, this goddess, on her knees in front of him, wearing the sexiest fucking dress he’d ever seen. And she was sucking him enthusiastically, working him with her mouth and hands in a way he was sure would make him lose himself in seconds. 


Sam could already feel the familiar rush of pleasure surging down his thighs and between his legs but no, no, he didn’t want that. He wanted this glorious moment to last a while longer.


God, he hadn’t even had a chance to touch her yet. 


“Wait, Cait, wait,” he protested breathlessly, moving away from her, “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up...” 


She stopped and looked up at him and licked her lips. Not unlike a cat who’d just finished a bowl of cream. 


“But I like it darling. I like the feel of you in my mouth. I wanna make you come undone as I suck you. Please?” 


And fucking hell the way she looked at him in that moment, the way she looked ; her hair tousled, her eyes wide and dark with lust, her cheeks flushed and that wicked grin tugging at her parted lips. He shook his head at her. “You're a goddamn vixen, Caitríona. A sexy as hell goddess…” He didn’t know if he believed in higher powers but he knew he sure as hell worshipped her. 


He trailed off and then grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up to him as he leaned forward in the chair. 


Hungrily, he kissed her again, tasted himself on her tongue and felt his dick twitch against her stomach, trapped between their bodies flushed together. She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back, equally impatient, whimpering against his mouth as his hands moved down her front. He explored, cupping and gently squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of the dress.


She broke free of the kiss and nuzzled her cheek against his, pulling at his t-shirt to get it off him, her hands stroking over his chest and shoulders once she did. Her delicate soft hands on his skin were heavenly, her touch making him shiver all over. Her smell, her closeness, her softness against his body was everything he would ever need. 


"You know," she whispered against his ear as her hands gripped the short curls at the back of his neck, "there's only one purpose for this dress, and it wasn’t this damn photoshoot…"


"What was it then?" he breathed, his lips tracing her jawline as his hands roamed over her back and arse.


"For you to take it off …"


She didn’t have to ask twice.


Cait rose to her feet and all he had to do was pull the straps down her shoulders and let the dress slide off her slender body, almost getting trapped by her gorgeous curves. He looked up at her in awe, felt the same sense of wonder he did the first time he had seen her naked all those years ago. They had been drunk, as much on each other as on the alcohol they consumed. But the second she’d removed her t-shirt and stepped out of her jeans and giggly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her naked body against his, he’d gone stone cold sober. 


As long as he lived, he would never forget that moment.    


As he caressed her belly with his fingertips, moved up to her breasts, and then down again to her hips, he once again thanked his lucky stars she was his. He paused by the hem of her panties, black like the dress, and in some kind of silky, almost see through material. 


Holy fuck she looked heavenly. .. 


One of his hands slid round and grabbed hold of her arse while the other continued down her thigh, finding its way between her legs, where he began stroking her with slow, steady movements. She gasped and almost fell forward, steadying herself by putting her hands on his shoulders.


The sensation of her wetness seeping through the fabric and the whimpering sounds she started to make at his touch had his mind go blank with need, God he wanted her, wanted to fuck her so badly, wanted to taste her even more ... 


“What about these then?” he managed to ask, his heart pounding in his chest.


“I think they should come off too,” she breathed in response, “please take them off me Sam...”


Cait was moving her hips, desperate to feel him closer. Eager to please he pulled the panties down her legs and then wasted no time to remove the rest of his own clothing. With a firm grip on the back of her thighs he lifted her off the ground, and closed his mouth over hers. Too lost in the passion, they barely paused to breathe as he carried her into the bedroom, stumbling as he went and almost bumping into the dresser which made her squeal and both of them giggle like kids. He sank down into the mattress, her straddling his lap, her thighs on either side of him. 


She immediately pushed herself closer. He could feel her, damp and warm as she slowly ground herself against him. She rolled her hips, slid all the way up and down his length, moaning loudly as she did. All the while he fondled her arse, unable to stop himself from thrusting up against her and Christ , it felt good . The only thing better would be to sheath himself inside her, but he knew he probably wouldn't last long if he did. Wanting to prolong the experience, he moved up the bed a bit, holding on to her waist, urging her to follow him.


He laid down on his back and she leaned over him, finding his mouth again while she continued to move up and down his hard cock, greedily taking from him what she needed.


“Oh God Sam, it feels so good, I’m gonna come like this, fuuuck…” Her words, muffled against his mouth, nearly sent him over the edge. Hearing her talk like this was so hot it was almost unbearable. 


“You like this babe,” he mumbled between sloppy kisses, gripping her hips even tighter, pressing her to him even harder. “Go on Cait, I wanna hear you come on my cock, that’s it, good girl…” 


“Yes,” she whimpered, “yes, oh fuck!”


Her movements became less controlled as she came undone, grinding down on him so hard it was almost painful. She cried out his name, her face pressed into the side of his neck as the orgasm rolled through her. Her entire body tensed and her heat pulsed against him. He had to focus intently to not spill himself against her stomach, screwing his eyes shut, breathing heavily through his nose as she went slack on top of him. Her chest heaving, her entire body shuddering against his, as she came down from her climax. 


“Oh no,” he mumbled into her hair, “you’re not done yet.” Taking a firm hold of her waist he pulled her higher up his body.


“Turn around.” 


It was not a request, but a command.


“What are you doing?” she asked, confused but moving to obey him.


Without answering, he pulled her down to his mouth and pressed his lips on her. For a moment he held still, savouring the taste of salt and honey on his tongue, before he began licking and sucking at her swollen slick folds. It soon drove him mad with arousal and he groaned against her, ate her out with the appetite of a man starved. She protested at first, squirming away from his touch, oversensitive and having not quite recovered from her climax, but fairly soon started moving her hips in time with the swirling of his tongue. 


She pressed her hands on the top of his thighs to keep her balance, riding his face, squirming and panting as he ran his tongue all the way from between her buttocks to her clit, again and again, making her roll her hips, in desperate need of more friction. 


Her thighs were pressed tight against the sides of his head, but he heard her pleading; 

“Please Sam, please... more, I need… more…”


She moaned and whimpered loudly as he alternated lapping at her sensitive flesh and pushing his tongue inside her, pressing herself down on him with no regard for anything but her own pleasure.


Or so he thought.


Until he felt her lean down, the hardened peaks of her breasts brushing against the fine hairs on his stomach, and taking his cock in her mouth.


It was the sexiest thing he could imagine; her arse in his face, her lips and tongue driving him mad. When she begged him to fuck her, he slid two fingers inside her, almost blacking out from the feel of her dripping tight pussy squeezing them. He pushed them in and out of her, finding that perfect spot that made her cry out, his cock still in her mouth as she did.


She sucked him more sloppily now, unable to properly focus on giving him pleasure while being so thoroughly overwhelmed by his hands and mouth, but it didn’t take long until they both were on the verge of climax. When he felt her starting to clench around his fingers, he couldn’t help but push up into her mouth, needing to come deeper, to feel more, chasing his own release. 


As she came undone on his face, he felt her tightening around his fingers, he wasn’t able to hold back any longer, the rushes of pleasure coursing through him, leading to him spilling into her mouth in hot spurts. All he knew in that moment were the sounds of their pleasure filling the room, the taste of her coating his tongue, her mouth on him. 


It felt so unbelievably good he wondered what on earth he’d done in a previous life to deserve this heaven on earth. 


Afterwards, in the stillness, sweat cooling upon their bodies, he tried to catch his breath, slowly trailing his fingers up and down the expanse of her back. A smile spread across his face from the bliss of having her here with him in their bed. 


He didn’t take it for granted, and he would always be grateful for the way things had eventually turned out. 


He no longer ached at the thought of the years before, when nothing was certain, when they had drifted too far away from each other, from who they were to each other. After all, he knew that everything had led them here, to this very moment and it made it all worth it.


He pulled her closer to him, and could feel her body relax into his even more as she drifted off to sleep.


“You’re mine,” he whispered into her hair, “and I’m yours”.


“You’re ridiculous,” she mumbled against his chest, “but I love you anyway.”


“Good, because I kinda love you too. Almost as much that little black number you had on earlier…”


She laughed and swatted him lightly on the chest. “Oh shut up.”


He just smiled to himself, utterly content and thought, God bless that dress, and the woman it belongs to.