leftwithmybones | (no subject)

(no subject)

She'd kicked Jim out of the house an hour back to get ready and to fix up dinner. Hell, if McCoy's honest about the whole thing, she'd kicked him out solely so her nerves had a chance to calm the hell down. They're up and down and she knows what she wants to ask, knows that she wants this, but it's also not the first time she's done this and the last time she'd blurted it out. Hadn't gone over too well.

She'd found a blue dress about the same length as the uniforms, a few shades darker than that and she's pinned the hair up in a functional bun while dinner's cooking -- some steak since Jim likes it, proper greens, and a pie sitting in the oven with some ice cream in the freezer. It's not exactly a feast, but it'll do.

When McCoy's sure it's ready to go, she opens the front door and pokes her head out, pretty sure she'll find Jim. "Your banishment's over," she says, nerves fluttering as she looks him over and thinks about kids, thinks about his kids and how much she wants to talk about that with him. "Dinner's ready."

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"Both?" Jim asks, because a decision like that would be impossible for anyone. He wants to see her, and claim her, some primal part of him responding to the soft breasts pressed against his chest as he walks down the short hall. "Fuck, Bones, I want everything."

She adjusts until her posture's straight as anything, sitting up in Jim's arms before sinking down into the hold he has on her, bowing over his head and letting hair fall into her eyes. "You remember that tape? The one that got us together and you talked about me in the shower? I touched myself, thinking about you," she tells him, sucking a kiss against his neck. "Used the shower nozzle and my fingers and pretended it was you and then tried to forget about it because hell, Jim, I was an old divorcee then."

It's a variation on a tale Jim knows, and it almost makes his knees buckle. "You were gorgeous," he counters, "Getting more gorgeous every day, Bones." He's barely lowered her to the bed before he's following her down, covering her newly smaller body with his own. "Fuck, stop wearing clothes."

"I'm getting older every day," she snorts, but there's the faintest grin on her lips that says that McCoy's actually listening to what Jim says and appreciates it -- even believes it. "You want me to stop wearing clothes, you should do something about it, Jimmy," she lightly comments.

It takes a lot to overwhelm Jim, but he feels it in that moment, staring down at her face, familiar and new at the same time. She's so soft and warm beneath him, and when Jim reaches, it's not to lift her skirt. He pulls out the pin holding what remains of her bun, combing her hair gently out with his fingers.

"You are," he says again, leaning down to kiss her. "You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

McCoy swears it was never like this with Joe. There hadn't been the warmth that Jim makes her feel and he'd never made her blush like Jim could with something as simple as a phrase like that. Her cheeks are flushed and she turns her head to the side as if she can hide away the fondness and the overwhelming affection brimming in her eyes.

With a returned kiss, she tries to ease up off the bed, tries to coax his hands somewhere else (the hem of her skirt, in this case). "Keep talking like that and I'm going skinny-dipping in the morning."

"As long as you give me the night to recover," Jim laughs, and damn if his hands aren't shaking a little as she guides him, fingers closing around the hem of her skirt. Jim pulls it up slowly, eyes drinking in every inch of leg revealed, and he's so caught up in the soft skin of her inner thighs that it nearly stops his heart to look up and find she's not wearing underwear.

"Might need more than one night to recover," he exhales, and then Jim can't do anything but bury his face between her legs.

She can't help the smug smirk that comes when Jim makes his little discovery. It's a stupid little thing to be proud of, but she is, anyway. "You can have two whole nights," she drawls and lets her head fall back against the pillows at the soft brush of Jim's lips against her thighs. She slides both hands up above her head, twining and gripping onto the headboard as a dazed and giddy smile crosses her lips. "I'd complain about that not being how babies are made, but your talented tongue shouldn't be dissuaded."

"Let me have this," comes Jim's muffled voice from between her thighs. It's been ages since he tasted a woman, made her scream and shudder against his tongue, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it until he had it again.

"Bones," Jim groans, humming with his first taste of her. "Fuck, pull my hair."

"Though I was the bossy one in this relationship," she grunts, but hell, Jim's being awfully good to her down there and the least she can do is wind her fingers slowly through his hair, letting her nails massage the scalp before she grabs hold, pulling as she lets her head fall back to the pillows. "Darlin', you just keep on with that," she encourages.

Jim obeys, and he isn't sweet about it either, getting his whole face in there and following the tugs to his hair for what she likes most. He laps at her, long, broad strokes of his tongue coupled with shorter ones right against her clit, tongue swirling ruthlessly against the tiny nub. He wants to make her shake, wants to feel her thighs tighten around his neck until it's a struggle to breath.

Her breaths, while long and controlled only a few moments ago, are betraying her with these short little gasps that get punctuated by throaty noises as if Jim's the most wonderful thing she's ever come into contact with. And hell, maybe not Jim, but his damn perfect mouth may be. "Jim," she gasps breathlessly, not sure why he's so viciously determined today.

Every tiny gasp from her mouth feeds the ache beneath Jim's legs, but he doesn't let himself grind down against the sheets the way he wants to. Instead, Jim lifts her hips with two handfuls of her beautiful ass and spreads her wider for his tongue, stroking into her now with determination. Minutes from now, he intends very much on following the path of his tongue with his cock, but these moments are all for her.

"Fuck!" McCoy snaps, not a little stuttered out whimper, but a full on growl when Jim gets her ass in his hands and practically lifts her up only to get his tongue even more inside of her. She's trying so damn hard, like she always does, not to give Jim too much satisfaction, but she always his this point where she wonders 'who the hell cares'. "Jim," she begs, babbles, moans. "Oh, fuck me, Jim."

Jim lifts his head just long enough to pant, "Come for me first, Bones." He groans at the sight of her breathless face, speaking the next words against her sensitive flesh. "Then I'll fuck you until you come again, please, baby. I want to feel you tight around my tongue."

"I'm not your damn performing mon...oh," she gasps, because she wants to smack him at the implication she can come so easily, but then he brushes his lips on her skin and the vibrations, the vibrations push through her and completely wreck her and before she even knows it, she's doing just like he damn well wants.

No wonder he's a spoiled brat in their marriage. "Damn it, Jim," she breathes out, dazed.

She contracts around his tongue, and Jim doesn't ease up, humming against her clit to prolong her orgasm. His scalp aches from the hairpulling, but it's a good hurt, and if there was ever any doubt that this is his Bones - and there isn't - it'd be dispelled by that sigh right there, equal parts exasperated and fond. Jim lifts his head, hair sticking up every which way and face a mess, and grins at her. "You have no idea how much I enjoyed that."

"Fuck!" she snaps out, teeth terse because Jim's on his game and the sensation she's riding out are a little more overwhelming than usual, though she's not sure why. "I'm beginning to think," she mumbles, words sticking together as she licks the corner of her lip thoughtfully, "that you could make a living doing this."

"What a scandalous suggestion," says Jim, wiping himself off with a corner of the sheets before he crawls up alongside her, cock an insistent heat against the smoothness of her thigh, and fuck, but he loves a woman's body.

"I got other ways of earning my keep, you know," he says, pressing a wet kiss to her throat.

"Yeah, you're a genius," she says, but despite the heat that could be in that tone, she doesn't have any anger in her eyes as she presses two fingers to the underside of Jim's chin to angle him towards her for a longer kiss, hungry as anything as she nips his lower lip and tastes herself on his mouth while she reaches down to wrap a hand around Jim's dick. "Gonna do something about that?"

Those slim, calloused fingers feel like heaven, and Jim groans against her mouth, arm curling around her to pull her closer. "Was giving you a breather," he manages, but if she keeps that up, he's not sure he'll be able to stop himself from pulling those long legs around his waist. "Bones."

"When the hell have I ever needed a breather for," she grunts, even though there's been plenty of times and she's using selective memories right now. "Want me on top, darlin'?" she asks softly, kissing the curve of his jaw before sliding her lips over to his.

Jim groans again, and truth be told, he's having trouble deciding just how he wants her, but that gorgeous body moving over his where he can see and touch is a damn good start. "Want you every which way," he exhales, catching her by the hips to roll her on top of him. "God, please."

"Not an answer," she replies, but it's not like she really cares about what Jim wants at this point so long as he gets in her and she's wet and ready for him, so when McCoy eases her way atop his body with a challenge of a brow, she's ready. "Say when," she warns, poised just above him, ready to sink down and ride him.

"When," says Jim immediately, unable to look away from her, hands lifted and reaching for as much of her as he can touch. She's so soft, so ridiculously smooth, he thinks he could get off just from touching her long enough, but then he feels the heat hovering just shy of where he needs it, and Jim closes his eyes and groans. "Please. When."