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                The Power of Cheese
      
                          nonelvis

"If you really loved me," said River, "you'd get up and make me a toasted cheese sandwich."

The Doctor gave River's still-tender nipple one last affectionate nibble, then propped his chin on her sweat-slicked chest, continuing his work with thumb and forefinger instead.

"What makes you think I love you?" he asked.

"You come when I call," she said. "Actually, you come when I do all sorts of things."

"Mmm, that could just be raw animal attraction." He caught a trailing bead of sweat with his fingertip, sucked it in. "And why is a toasted cheese sandwich absolute proof of my feelings?"

"A truly caring partner would attend to his lover's need to refuel after sex. Especially since refuelling allows her to have more sex." She poked his head for emphasis. "With him."

"Thank you for the clarification." He chased another sweat droplet with a finger, a ticklish zigzag that concluded with him lapping the drop from her belly.

"Not that it's made any difference," she replied.

The Doctor spread his fingers wide, slid his hands sideways and up, sweat smoothing the route to River's breasts. He shifted the rest of his body downwards, sucking more moisture from her body as he went, each kiss provoking a tiny tremor.

"River. Are you honestly telling me you'd rather have a cheese sandwich than this?"

His lips glided across her abdomen, frustratingly delicate caresses at the ridge of River's hipbone, the thin and vulnerable junction where upper thigh met groin. He withdrew a hand from her breasts, drifting across her curves until his thumb grazed River's mons, traced the shape of her.

"You're very persuasive," she murmured, shivering at his touch. "But I still want my sandwich."

"So stubborn. This must really be quite a craving."

He didn't slip inside, not just yet. Took his time stroking her, watching her reactions, waiting for her to break.

Instead, her stomach gurgled.

"I told you," she said, and then his thumb finally, finally swept a glorious circle round her clit. She groaned.

"I can stop," he replied, but his thumb kept moving, dipped lower, was deftly replaced by an index finger that pushed inside River, made her groan again. "After all, if a sandwich is what you really want, I wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied."

He pressed deeper with his finger, pulled back, pressed in once more. Rested his cheek against River's thigh, observing her with the same curiosity he devoted to anything he'd decided was worth storing away in that cryptic brain of his. She ought to make him stop, just for that: cataloguing her as if she were something he could ever fully understand.

She was on the verge of saying something when he leaned forwards, flicked the tip of his tongue to her, and River bucked off the bed so violently she nearly conked him with her knee.

"Careful, dear. No snack or any other sort of treats if you knock me unconscious."

"You bast– aah ..." A magical twist of his fingers and simultaneous twirl of his tongue, and all River's complaints evaporated.

No point in making him get up if she were only going to be hungrier in a few minutes, or possibly less if the Doctor kept following this rhythm. The steady pressure of tongue and fingers set River's skin alight, sparks from that point between her legs prickling their way through her breasts, her belly, all the way to her toes curling the cotton sheets.

She was dangerously close when he retreated, replacing tongue with his other thumb, rolling it over and around her clit until River was gasping with frustration.

"River."

"What? Oh my God, a little harder, please ..."

"It might be a bit more than just raw animal attraction."

"And I'm so glad to hear that, you have no idea, but right now, it just sounds like you really enjoy teasing me."

"Oh, that's quite a lot of it," he said, and added, "Are you still thinking about that sandwich, River?"

She let loose with some of her finest curses, but got nothing more than wry laughter in response. Until the Doctor licked her again, just once, a rapid wiggle round her centre that sent a sudden electric jolt through every nerve, all the way to her fingertips; and then River was coming so hard she couldn't speak at all.

When she finally caught her breath again, the Doctor had wriggled his way beside her, arm slung loosely over her stomach, his head resting in the crook of River's neck.

"I'm going to get you for that," she said, not even turning to look at him. "I'm going to make you beg in ways that haven't even been invented yet. Master scholars of begging will name all those ways after you, and then I'll make you discover a few more."

He kissed her cheek. "I look forward to it. Ready for that sandwich now?"

"Seeded bread. The aged cheddar. And that Lobellian spicy mustard."

"Of course." He sprang off the bed, padded naked to the doorway.

"Don't forget the tomato!" River called after him. "Or the handcuffs."

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