For fuckin_rope...

[sheisnotasaint]

[From Here]

At her doorstep, she chucked a twenty at the driver and practically pulled Conner from the backseat of the cab and onto her porch. Fumbling for her keys, it took what felt like way too long to unlock her door before she was able to yank him inside.

Dropping her coat on the table in the hall, she let her purse follow, then unclipped her service weapon and set it high in the closet. "Regulation," she murmured.

Her badge was still clipped to her waist, but she wasn't worried about it at the moment. At the moment, she was worried about Connor's hands and their relation to her body.

Comments

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

Speaking of those hands, they were currently quite preoccupied with dragging her back to his body by the belt loops and snogging her senseless.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

Her own hands were pretty preoccupied with fumbling with his buckle, determined to undo his belt and jeans as quickly as possible. Any chance at getting sober meant that she'd have a chance to have second thoughts and now would not be a good time for those.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

His hands make short work of her shirt, temporarily stopping the distracting kisses to pull it up and over her head.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

If she'd known that she was going to end the evening naked with Connor MacManus, she might have worn something a little sexier than a plain white lace bra. Unfortunately, she didn't know and that's all she's wearing. That and the plain white undies to go with. And suddenly, her mind's wandering to thoughts of if she remembered to shave her legs that morning before the kissing starts again and, as promised, she's distracted.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

His hands grip her backside, pulling her up until she has to wrap her legs around his waist and walks somewhat bo-legged towards her bed.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

Holding onto him the way she is, she finds it really easy to continue kissing him, her hands gripping his head rather than his very short hair. Once against her bed, she kneels on it, then pulls him close, reaching down to lift his shirt up over his head.

"You're so..." Different. The same. "You." She presses a kiss to his shoulder, then runs the tip of her nose along his jaw before giving him a kiss that's almost sweet.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

"Aye so are you." He pulls his shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him and kiss the column of her neck.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

She tilts her head to the side and closes her eyes, fingers returning to his pants to push them over his hips.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

He tilts his hips, kicking off his shoes and temporarily stands to chuck off his jeans onto the floor and puts his Rosary on Claire's night stand before rejoining her.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

When he stands, so does she, shimmying out of her slacks, so all she's left in are her bra and panties. Then she's pulling him down by the back of his neck, not caring that they're on top of the covers. All she cares about is that he's touching her again.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

His hand skims over her ribs, taking in the once familiar path of her stomach as he kisses her collar bone. It had been far too damn long.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

She sucks in her stomach involuntarily, her breath hitching at the feel of his lips on her skin. It had been far too long and now, with them both all grown up, she can feel her body positively aching for him.

"Need you." It's a groan as her hand tightens against the back of his head, pulling him closer.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

His breath comes in a slight pant, hips arching against hers. "Ye got me."

The mornin after is always a kicker.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

Connor grunts slightly as he curls into the warm body, desperately trying to shy away from the annoying stream of sun peeking in from the window and breath in the light smell of his companions hair, but slowly wades into consciousness when she makes a light sound in her sleep, which dashed the idea it was just a nice dream that he was using to ignore Murph's snorin.
He pulls away slightly, his eyes widening when he sees a familiar head of red hair and vaguely remembers shagging in nearly every corner of her apartment last night.
"Ah fuck me."

That's one way to put it!

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

So used to waking up alone, Claire's not prepared for the arm around her waist or the warmth pressed up against her back. It doesn't all register, though, not until the warmth pulls away.

And then talks.

It's the familiar Irish accent that causes her eyes to fly open and look down at the arm around her waist. The words bring back a rush of memories and, ironically, her response to that very same statement the night before. She groans audibly and puts a hand over her eyes, thankful that she rarely gets hungover. Then she drops that hand to the one around her waist and attempts to move it. Looking over her shoulder, she gives Connor a look.

"You can't be here."

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

Connor's response is a moderately comical offended look and a huff. "An what about ye? Ain't supposed t' be waking up ta a ginger!"
His voice is thick with sleep, accent making it sound more growling then normal.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

"This is my house," she reminds him, and she's actually kind of teasing, before she shifts so that she's still got his arm around her, but now they're facing each other. And still naked. Dear Lord, weren't there any clothes around? "Oh, my- My car is still at McGinty's."

She closed her eyes and groaned.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

He slaps a free hand to his face as the other arm still wrapped around her waist unconsciously starts to trail his fingers up and down her spine.
"Fuck me."
His vocabulary is suffering-not just because of the side splitting hangover, the fact that he shagged his high school sweetheart, or even the fact that's he's but ass naked under that sheet and Murphy will never let him live this incident down, nope; it's all because her side of the covering is riding temptingly low and he just so happens to be a very red-blooded male.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

The way his fingers are trailing up and down her back, something she's always found both arousing and soothing, cause her to arch even closer to him. She comes in contact with the very reason he's swearing again and she groans again, this time because she's not completely immune, either.

Her voice is low and husky, both from the sleep and the fact that she's pressed up against this particular naked man. "Jesus, Connor. You're insatiable."

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

His Adams apple visibly bobs in his throat, hands reflexively wrapping around her hips as he closes the distance between them, clearly not thinking clearly as a naughty smile graces his handsome face-ignoring the part of his head screaming various levels of 'BAD IDEA CONNOR MACMANUS'.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

Because drunk sex with an ex can be explained away. Morning after sex is just a bad idea all around and this?

Fuck it. Claire doesn't care the second his hands are on her again. Her mind remembers the night before mixed in with the memories of years past and she's got one leg up around his thigh so she can roll him over on his back. She straddles him carefully, easing down on him slowly, the smile on her face showing him that she likes it just as much in the morning as she does at night.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

Connor's head is thrown back, automatically shutting out that little annoying voice that sounds suspiciously like his Ma telling him how bloody stupid this is, because damn it she's still gorgeous and the sex is still undeniably fantastic.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

The last person that Claire's gonna think about is his ma, her ma, his brother (OH GOD) or anyone else but him. She's going to concentrate on just how good he feels as she drags her nails lightly down his chest before she leans over and kisses him. It doesn't matter that her hair's falling in their face, or that she's starting to feel the cool morning air on her backside, she just wants to feel him deeper inside of her than before.

[fuckin-rope.livejournal.com]

Connor wraps his hand in the loose hair, moaning against against her lips as he freely and gladly drags the other to grip her hips, meeting her with every movement of her hips.

[sheisnotasaint.livejournal.com]

If she's not sore and bruised after the last twelve hours, it's going to be a miracle. Not that she cares, not even a little bit. She's grinding her hips against his, hands on the bed above his shoulders and when she comes, she collapses against him.

Draping her body over his, she breathes hard. There's so much she could say, it's easier if she doesn't.