Birds of Feather

Chapter 20: Oratorium

One hand slips under your top. His fingers are like fire, hot against skin that's been screaming for his touch since you got into his car earlier today. The other hand is feather light against your back, causing you to suck in a breath at a mix of pleasure and a ticklish sensation.

He holds you in place easily, fingers undoing your bra.

"I keep meaning to take my time with you," he admits, voice muffled against your shoulder. "But every time I start I just want more of you faster."

You make an odd sound, caught between wanting to assure him that he doesn't need to rush, and wanting him to rush. He seems to take his time just fine as far as you're concerned, and the idea that he could spend more time teasing you, or just looking at you, is a bit like being caught between heaven and hell.

"You... you sound like you just want to spend an entire day, um... just with foreplay."

"It's tempting," he hums, finally lifting your shirt up and pulling it off of you. "But don't panic at the idea, pretty bird." He continues, tossing both of your shirts onto the couch before hooking your loose bra with a finger and pulling it off of you slowly.

"I'd make sure you came at least a dozen times during it."

"Haaa-nnngh, heck." You murmur, softly as he begins to undo your skirt. He kneels down, slipping it slowly down your leggings and having you step out of it, one foot at a time. "You're, uh, a lot... um... hornier than I expected, doc." You manage teasingly.

"The way you sing for me, pretty bird," he says, looking up at you as he tugs painfully slowly at your leggings. "I'd be a fool to not listen for as long as I could."

He pulls the leggings down a little further and you can feel the heat rushing through you as his movements halt. You hadn't bothered to put anything on under the leggings. Between them and the skirt there wasn't a functional need, and also you knew that it would have an effect.

Eventually.

That eventually being right now.

"Pretty bird." His voice is a mix of restraint and inquiry.

"All night." You answer the unasked question, eyes darting away from his gaze when he looks up at you.

A heavy kiss on your hip makes you gasp, looking down to watch Marco leave a slow trail of kisses down from your hip to your thigh as he pulled the leggings down. His thumbs and forefingers slipped along your skin as his other fingers worked the fabric down further and further.

He helps you lift one leg, pulling the leggings off from one side, kisses wandering to the inside of your thighs as he slipped the leggings off from your other leg. He tossed them easily onto the pile of your clothes in the corner of the couch, his hands returning to your skin quickly.

One hand against your lower back, the other on your leg as his kisses shift back up your thigh. You moan, shifting a little in his grasp despite your efforts to stay still. A hot wet tongue along the crease of your torso makes you twitch and gasp, hands on his shoulders as you try to keep yourself steady.

"Seems you taste and sound delicious, pretty bird." He murmurs against your skin, leaving kisses against your stomach.

The laugh that escapes you is a mix of nerves and need. "If, if you say so." You gasp as his hands shift, bending you back just a little as he stands, kissing you steadily up the middle of your chest. The kisses shift to your neck, and you hold onto him as his teeth move over your skin, teasing to leave marks on you.

"You're... still completely dressed." You huff a little as he turns you around, your back to him.

"That I am." He concedes. You don't have to see him to be able to feel his gaze moving along your naked backside.