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Dublin Cycle

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She woke slowly, gradually.

Strangely enough, the first thing she became aware of was that her hair, that tangled mess, was in her face as she lay on her side. Then came the fact that the sheets were caressing her body, her whole body—meaning that she was naked. Then she realized that she had something warm and solid and delicious right behind her.

And then, only then did she notice the gently exploring, soft lips on her neck.

Then she felt the mild, pleasurable ache between her legs, and realized that the natural heater in the bed with her was actually Grant, and suddenly all that had happened the night before clicked together.

She had slept with her S.O.—multiple times, actually. And they had not just simply banged—they made love (and yeah, banged on the table), and talked, actually talked about longing and feelings and relationships, and they kinda-sorta agreed that this thing between them was worth exploring.

So now they were basically dating.

And she had an irking that the thought of this was supposed to freak her out, but it didn’t. In fact, she wasn’t scared or uncomfortable or hesitant or even feeling like she had done a big mistake. In fact, the thought of this made her giddy.

“I get that you’re up with the sun,” she said softly, her voice still hoarse with sleep, as she snuggled deeper into his chest. “But do you really have to wake me up, too? You know I’m supposed to have the day off today, right?” she teased him.

“Sorry, I had to,” he answers, his lips trailing down her neck. “I’m hungry, and you are so…” He bit into the juncture of her neck, making her squeal. “Delicious.”

“So now you are going to… devour me?” Two could play this game.

“Exactly,” he answered, sneaking a hand in front of her, and cupping her breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She sighed contently. What a way to wake up!

“I assume you slept well?” she asked, trying to focus on his ministrations – he was moving up on her neck again—and her own words at the same time.

“Amazingly,” he answered, his breath tickling her skin, raising goosebumps. “I was completely… thoroughly…  spent by the time I got to bed…” he told her, punctuating every item with a kiss, “then I saw glorious dreams…” A lick just behind the shell of her ear, making her tremble. “And I woke up with a beautiful girl in my arms. Best night in a long, long time.”

She chuckled—what was soon turned into a moan as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth—, but didn’t really know what she could say. This version of Grant was strange to her—not bad, not at all, just… foreign. Who would have thought that dropping her defenses (and throwing away her common sense) would lead to this? Would make him open up, and show this side of him—this free, teasing, alluring man? (Or that he was there under the surface all along?)

Not that she was complaining.

He hit a ticklish spot, and she giggled, her body jerking; she could feel his grin against her neck.

“So you’re ticklish…” (The too was implied, she knew.)

She wanted to protest (although what point it could have had, she had no idea), but he didn’t let her. Well, technically, he did—he didn’t occupy her mouth—, it’s just he kept doing things to her that greatly interfered with her verbal abilities.

He kept kissing her neck and shoulder, gently nipping the soft, sensitive skin, while he continued playing with her breast, and, his other hand sliding under her head, he buried his fingers in her hair. The last remnants of sleep soon left her body, making her hyper-aware of everything, from the softness of the sheets to the hard contours of his chest against her back, while a different feeling filled up her veins.

Lust.

Heat was pooling between her legs, her nipples hardened to pebbles, her body was sighing for him, and the ache in her core intensified, this time demanding attention. Demanding him.

(So it was his plan all along, from the first teasing kiss he had woken up her with. Not that it bothered her the slightest.)

She pushed against him, seeking friction, and finding exactly what she hoped to find.

“It really feels like you are up and ready… for the day,” she said before losing control of her voice and letting out an embarrassingly loud moan as he pinched her nipple. “And that you are having a good morning.”

“The best,” he answered, tilting his hips forward, pushing his hardened member against her, so the tip slid just between her tights (she wanted more). “Always the best with you.”

With that, he let go of her breast and slid his hand down, down her stomach (her muscles contracted under his touch), until the tip of his fingers reached the gentle slope of her mound, stroking the sensitive skin, before thrusting one finger forward, slipping it between her lips, and finding her clit.

She bit back a moan.

“It feels like I’m not the only one ready,” he whispered into her ear hoarsely, rubbing her clit harder before pushing the finger deeper in, until he reached her entrance. “You are so wet… and warm… I bet you can’t think of anything right now… just of me… sliding into you…” he told her in a low, seductive voice, working her, slowly making her lose her mind.

The first digit of his finger slipped into her, and she whined. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did.

“Oh, yes,” she said, although even she wasn’t sure whether it was an answer to what he was saying, or just an enthusiastic exclamation. “Yes… please…” she almost whined, her hips jerking forward, forcing his finger deeper.

“What? What do you want?” he breathed into her ear before biting her gently just under her jawline, soothing the mild sting with his tongue. “You just have to ask, Skye…”

She growled.

“You are terrible,” she said, her words punctuated by another moan, as he hit a sweet spot inside her. “Don’t make me beg!”

“What do you want?” he echoed stubbornly, adding another finger. It still wasn’t enough.

She caved in.

“I want you! Just take me already!”

He kissed her neck once again, sucking at the delicate skin.

“As you wish.”

She almost wanted to ask if he knew the implications of his words, but didn’t get the chance to—for the next moment he withdrew his hand, slightly lifted her leg, then, guiding himself with his other hand, he pushed into her.

The feel of him was still overwhelming—her walls strained the best possible way to accommodate him, forcing a breathy moan out of her as she shut her eyes in pleasure.

He kept still for a moment, letting her adjust—then pulled almost completely out, and pushed in once again. The position didn’t really let him to go too fast or too hard, but the angle was just perfect. She didn’t mind the pace, either—it somehow made their lovemaking more intense, more intimate.

He moved in a steady pace, softly grunting into ear whenever he pushed in, keeping a hand on her hip, keeping her close, and keeping their movements in tandem, helping her match thrust for thrust. As suddenly as lust had awakened in her, now the fire was as slow to fill her veins, slowly burning her from the inside. She felt as if electricity was running through all of her nerve endings, giving her a little jolt whenever he hit home, finding just the one place inside her that nobody had ever found before.

It was great, but it was driving her mad—she enjoyed the hike, the slow, enchanting journey, but she wanted to be at the peak already, to enjoy the feeling of being on the top of the world. So she reached down, grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand to her center.

“Make me come,” she said in a breathy whisper between his thrusts.

He needed no other incentive; he got to work right away, finding her clit, that sensitive, excited little bundle of nerves, and started rubbing it with his fingertips—slowly, gently at first, as if they were at the foreplay still, and he was trying to get her wet and ready, but then he started going harder and faster, even quickening the movements of his hips.

She was slowly becoming… erratic. There was no better word for it – her fluid movements were turning into forceful jerks, her breathing was coming in sharp, little pants, and she felt like as if her body wanted to curl around itself as the tension grew in her core, her walls tightened around him, and the base of her spine started tingling, the sensation spreading to the tip of her toes and to the top of her head.

And then it just snapped.

She reached the peak, and it was divine. Pleasure erupted in every cell of her body and her spine arched and her toes curled and she all but cried as her walls clamped around him, forcing him to push even harder.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept going, with carefully measured thrusts, drawing out her orgasm, until he came, too, his whole body stilling for a moment before he gave her a last couple of jerking thrusts, moaning into her ear as his hand—the one that wasn’t still between her legs—fisted in her hair and he spilled his seed into her.

Afterwards, they stilled; they didn’t say a word as their hearts slowly calmed down and their breathing evened out. Once her last, sporadic spasms stopped, he gently pulled out of her, but didn’t inch away—no, he put his arm around her middle and pulled her close.

It was a like a second awakening as her body came down from the height of her climax. She started noticing new things, things she hadn’t paid attention to before—things like, for example, that the early morning sunlight was streaming in through the window, a beam hitting her shoulder, warming her skin. Or that there were birds singing on the trees in front of the hotel. Or that Grant had a musky, earthy scent, that was truly him, nothing artificial added. And that his stubble was tickling her neck, sending little pleasure-shocks through her body.

She sighed contently, burrowing deeper into him—and, to her surprise, he mirrored the move, tightening the arm around her waist and nuzzling his nose against her neck. He let out a little, happy breath. She chuckled.

“So you are into cuddling, too?” she teased, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m not,” he protested weakly, taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent in, and skimming his fingertips along the smooth skin of her stomach. “It’s just you are good to have close.”

“So I’m a good to cuddle.” She felt his smile against her neck. “Just admit it—it won’t hurt.”

“Can’t you stay quiet for a minute?”

And she did; for a minute. But then asked, “Do we have to get up?”

“Not yet,” he answered, pulling her even closer, as if the mere thought of parting with her made him uncomfortable. “We can stay for a little longer; Coulson’s not in hurry to leave unless we get an urgent call.”

“Hm… okay,” she said with dropping eyelids, then turned around in his arms to face him. She pushed her head under his chin, put her arms around him, and sighed contently. “Then I’m staying in bed a little longer.”

“Good call,” was his only response as he kissed the top of her head, then ran his fingers through her hair, playing with her locks.

She got a full ten minutes of rest before their phones started ringing (somewhere in their pants pockets on the floor). Apparently, even if she felt like she was in heaven, the world didn’t stop turning.