sheisnotasaint | For fuckin_rope...

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For fuckin_rope...

[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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Claire's not sure if she's pushing more at his boxers or her panties, but she murmurs a low, "Off," before she manages to squirm out of hers, kicking them over the side of the bed. Her bra follows even less gracefully, but she's beyond caring.

He somehow manages to get his off and fumble onto the side of the bed to grab a condom from his pocket.

It's a good thing he had one because she didn't normally keep them in her bedside drawer. There just wasn't a need because, well, she'd been celibate since returning to Boston.

Shifting under him, she pulls him close and prays that he has everything in order because any more waiting and she swears she's going to scream. Her nails dig into his shoulder as she lifts her hips up toward his in silent encouragement, her tongue coming out to wet her lips.

With a bit of maneuvering and the occasional thought from his alcohol addled mind he thrusts his hips, driving home.

It's true, things do get better with age and she arches her back just a little. Pulling him down, she kisses him, even as she thrusts back against him, rocking her hips against his.

He pulls back, gently dragging her lower lip between his teeth as he rocks his hips. "Fuckin hell I missed this."

Every thrust hits her just right and she's moaning, even as he's talking. She nods her agreement. "Missed you. This. God, yes."

Sex with Connor calls for a little blasphemy.

He buries his head in his shoulder, hips rolling and thrusting as his free hand busies itself by exploring her body.

With his hand on her body and his cock inside of her, Claire can feel herself approaching her climax very quickly. She tries to warn him, by turning her head and murmuring into his ear, "So close," but even then, all she can do is dig her nails into the small of his back as a tiny orgasm washes over her.

That wandering hand glides down her body as his thrusts increase, shallower and deeper as he feels himself wading at the edge, to flick the nub of her clit between his fingers, making sure she goes out with as just a big bang as he.

Her second orgasm is much bigger than the first and she cries out as she comes, burying her face in his neck to muffle the sound of his name on her lips. The aftershocks are almost as intense and she's shivering underneath him for a good minute after, trying to catch her breath.

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