(no subject)
She wakes up in a cold sweat yet again, heart racing. She rolls her eyes, completely annoyed with herself, and brushes a hand against Jackson's shoulder. "Sorry. Bad dream. Did I wake you?"
"You've never even met Reid," he says, rolling onto his side, free hand against her side, thumb grazing against the curve of one of the aforementioned breasts. "I still dream about New Orleans and the war. It happens."
A little shudder goes down his spine at even thinking of Reid in that context. He shifts, his hand slipping higher.
"Well, you're not alone, darlin'. I'm right here."
He smiles into the kiss, fingers brushing her loose hair back from her face.
"You could tell me," he says. "Or, better yet, you could show me."
"Among other things," he says, loving that look on her face. "Knight in shinin' armour surely deserves some manner of reward?"
He's perfectly happy to let her press him back on the bed; he loves his sex life the way it is, but, sometimes, he does have a flicker of wishing she was more assertive sometimes. Here, at least.
"Yes, Ma'am," he says. "Whatever you say."
He huffs a laugh.
"Mmmmm. Yes, Miz McHale," he grins, lifting his head. "God, I just want my cock in your mouth. How many different ways can you go about it?"
"Damn straight," he says, lifting his hips a little as she kisses her way down. "Wouldn't have you any other way, darlin'."
He groans softly, lifting his head a little to watch her as she rubs her mouth over his cock.
"Just as long as you're okay with the consequences."
"I would very much like for you to put your mouth on my cock," he says, eyebrows arched. "Please."
"Jesus, Mac," he says, lifting his hand over his head, wrapping his fingers around the bedframe, rocking up towards her mouth.
He has always loved a woman with control of her gag reflex. He pushes his fingers into her hair and pulls her mouth down onto his cock.
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