Beneath Your Beautiful (A Chenford | The Rookie Fanfic)

Part Ninety-Seven: Birthday Sex

Week 7, Day 1: Sunday

"Mmm," she moans softly as he stiffens in her grasp, kissing her way down his chest and scraping her teeth over his nipple before finally responding to his question, "Birthday." She works her hand up and down his cock, "Sex."

She pouts when he reaches his hand down to capture hers, halting the movement. He flips her onto her back, and then he is jerking the sheets completely off of her. Lucy gasps in response to the rush of cold air against her skin, while Tim threads his fingers through hers and pins her wandering hand to the mattress.

He presses a chaste kiss to her cheek that is at complete odds with the hunger in his gaze as his eyes roam greedily over her body. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

And this time when she shivers, it's in response to more than just the air conditioning. He barely brushes his lips over hers, chuckling as she arches up in an attempt to prolong the contact, instead kissing along her jaw and then down her neck, shifting down her body until he closes his mouth over her breast, the tight bud of her nipple firm and delicious between his lips, against his tongue. First tasting one and then the next as she tangles her fingers into his hair.

He pauses his assault to glance up at her, enjoying every bit of her bliss — eyes squeezed close, lips parted just enough to allow the breathy sounds of her gratification to escape, chest heaving, and back arching to ensure his focus stays exactly where she wants it.

"Feel good?" he teases arrogantly.

"Tim," she whines in protest at the interruption, her hand guiding him back toward her breast as she hooks her leg around his waist in search of part of his body to grind against. And holy fucking shit, she is so unbelievably sexy when she's like this — completely uninhibited in the pursuit of her pleasure.

He shifts his thigh between her legs, and she wastes no time claiming it as her own.

"God, I could do this all day," he groans before dipping his head to reclaim her nipple. And he really and truly could.

But apparently, that's not the case for Lucy. Her eyes fly open, and her movements quite literally grind to a stop as she turns her head to look at the clock on their bedside table.

"Oh my god!" she pushes up against him, and attempts to reclaim her hand, but he doesn't budge. "Tim! Shit. I didn't realize it was so late. I have to go. I have brunch; they're going to be waiting for me."

She attempts to squirm out from under him again, but he just shakes his head, staring down at her until she stops trying to escape.

"Brunch is going to have to wait, Lucy..." Her eyes go wide as she stares up at him, clearly taken aback by the firmness of his tone, the lack of humor in his hungry gaze.

Her head bobs up and down as she silently nods her assent, and his lips soften into a devilish smile. He gives her breast a final teasing nip, going a little rougher than he normally would and enjoying her little gasp of surprise.

He certainly has no complaints about Lucy's willingness to take charge and go after what she wants in bed, but he's also enjoying this newfound compliance.

He continues to make his way down her body, and her knees spread wide to accommodate his broad shoulders even before he reaches his destination. Clearly, thoughts of being late to brunch have been entirely forgotten.

He presses a kiss to her hip, his mouth quirking up at the corner when a shiver of anticipation courses through her as his lips continue to follow the lines of her body, the tip of his nose brushing along the crease of her thigh as he makes his way to the main event.

"It's your birthday, baby..." he licks his lips, hooking his hand under one of her thighs before settling her leg over his shoulder. He uses his fingers to spread her open, and she shudders as his breath warms her sensitive skin, "And I am going to take such good care of you."

***

Lucy does, in fact, arrive to brunch a little late and a lot flustered, her cheeks flaming in a way that she is certain broadcasts the fact that she was just having ridiculously hot sex with a man that both of these women consider a brother.

Her mind flashes back to the way the attentive foreplay had suddenly transformed into something else entirely — she'd still been recovering from the first earth-shattering orgasm when he'd flipped her over without warning, an arm under her hips yanking her up onto her knees so quickly she'd barely had time to balance herself on her forearms before he had thrust himself inside of her from behind.

Her thighs involuntarily clench together at just the thought of how good it had felt to have him penetrating her so deeply from that angle, all the while his fingers skillfully working over her clit. The explosive pleasure when she'd come not one, but two more times as he'd relentlesslessly drilled her in pursuit of his own release.

She's never been concerned with being particularly quiet in the bedroom, but she is certain she has never been as loud as she'd been when her forehead had collapsed down on her arms and her entire body had continued to vibrate with pleasure for what seemed like an implausible amount of time afterward.

He had chuckled throatily, somehow still functioning while she dissolved into a puddle, flopping against his chest as he'd attempted to maneuver her into an upright seated position. He'd kissed her forehead and then carried her into the bathroom, unceremoniously depositing her in the shower as she'd gaped up at him in disbelief.

"Better get a move on, Lucy," he'd warned, "Or you're going to be late to brunch."

She wipes a hand over her brow. The garden terrace is beautiful, but she's kind of wishing they'd opted for somewhere with AC.

Lucy exchanges hugs with both Genny and Angela, while apologizing to them as well as to production for her tardiness.

Genny waves a hand to dismiss her apology, "Not that we aren't happy to see you Lucy, but Angela and I are happy to spend as much of our morning as possible sipping mimosas, so we're all good."

Angela nods her agreement, lifting her glass to acknowledge her arrival. "Get on board, Lucy; you've got some catching up to do."