Yowzah Oneshot Collection (3)

110(M)

The Doctor laughs, clearly enjoying her agony, but River takes her revenge by lifting her hips and guiding him impatiently, mercilessly into her. His laughter turns to a shocked groan and she bites her lip against a smirk. He sinks into the lush heat of her with a strangled whimper that turns her insides to mush. “River.”

She sighs softly, gripping him to her. This, she decides, will always be her favorite part. Making the Oncoming Storm quiver in her arms, their sweat-slicked skin sliding together as the Doctor buries himself deep inside her. His hitching cries lost in the wildness of her hair.

She wants to flip them over, wants to straddle his narrow hips and look down into that boyish face as she finally takes control. And she knows that some nights, she will do just that. Some nights will be for handcuffs and toys, for quick fucks on the console because they’d nearly died. But for some reason, the Doctor seems intent on being the one in control right now. As if he has something to prove. It isn’t exactly torture, so River lets him.

His body trembles over hers, his arms straining with the effort to hold himself up and stare down at her. River cards her fingers through his hair, taking care to be gentle since that seems to be what he wants, and urges him toward her. He presses his skin against hers again and kisses her briefly, his tongue twining tantalizing with hers before he pulls away and ducks his head.

River presses her lips against his temple and wraps her leg tight around his waist, keening softly when the movement allows him to stroke far deeper than before. She digs her fingers into his shoulders, encouraging the steady rocking of his hips by meeting him halfway. “Doctor,” she pants, squirming beneath him. She needs release and it’s so close. Just out of reach. If he would just fuck her a little harder – River groans in protest at his unhurried pace, digging her heel into his thigh. “Honey, please -”

“Shh,” he whispers, and presses that pouting mouth against her ear.

River settles instantly, too curious to protest. In a million years, she wouldn’t have thought the Doctor would be the type to talk during sex. He’s such a shy thing, bless. But he wets his lips, his tongue hot against her ear, and what he says isn’t dirty. Quite the opposite. He’s sweet-talking her.

That’s it, my River. I’ve got you, sweetheart. My gorgeous wife, you’re perfect.

Her eyes go wide. Her hips jerk helplessly against his. Her breath leaves her in a rush. Warmth spreads all through her, tingling in her fingers and toes. A knot of white-hot desire blooms in her belly, the intensity of which entirely belies the slow tenderness of their lovemaking thus far. River digs her fingernails into his arms and throws back her head, gasping out needfully, “Again.”

The Doctor smirks against the shell of her ear, like he’d known. He probably had. He knows everything about her, apparently. Even this. Long, clever fingers slipping between their bodies, the Doctor finds her clit and teases his fingertips against it. “Good girl, River.”

She comes so hard she sees stars and galaxies behind her eyes for days.

-

After that, it becomes a shameful kink River likes to indulge in whenever they’re together. It’s just too delicious – her sweet-faced young Doctor with his voice all deep and rumbling in his chest as he murmurs mine. If only the universe knew that the mad, bad, dangerous River Song likes to be told what a very good girl she is.