notfaking_it | (no subject)

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delta

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Lily wasn't sure what the time was.

She knew she'd seen Sawyer, gone home, showered, thought about calling someone and in the end decided against it. She remembered leaving the apartment, thinking again about stopping at Nina's, then that she had walked to a nearby bar instead. She remembered buying her first drink, and receiving the few drinks that came after, but she couldn't put faces to the men who'd bought them for her.

They didn't matter. No one mattered.

This was why she never stayed in one place for too long. This was the reason she kept moving, finding a new job, a new city. This was why she kept her relationships light and easy, because then someone came along and got under her skin -- Nina, Eden, Sawyer, Delta -- and that could be okay. That wasn't the problem. It was when she stopped having control. It was when they became someone she needed that it was a problem. She wasn't used to needing anything or anyone, she was used to being the one in charge.

Somehow, after several drinks, that seemed like something she needed to explain to someone. To Delta, maybe, because he'd done the same thing Sawyer had and she wanted to know if he was going to continue following his example.

Eleanor was probably asleep. She realized that as she pressed the buzzer, then braced herself against the wall, waiting for Delta to answer.

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He laughed against her cheek, and in a single easy motion he lifted her, turned and placed her on the counter. Sometimes he was still self-conscious about his size, his strength. Then at other times it was clearly an asset.

He slid between her legs, still smiling. "If you're going to show me, maybe I should turn off the stove."

Lily laughed when he lifted her and she hooked her foot around one of his legs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, then the line of his jaw. "Yeah, you probably should," she agreed, because she didn't want tea anymore. Her mouth moved down his jaw, against the skin just under his ear and she murmured, "We'll have tea later.

He let out a slow breath, not quite shivering as he reached over and turned off the burner. That done, he could turn his full attention to her, lips brushing hers but not quite kissing.

"We'll have to be quiet," he breathed. "Eleanor's sleeping."

"I can be very quiet," she whispered against his mouth, stroking the back of his neck lightly, her fingers toying with his hair. She could be just about anything he wanted, she thought, if it meant getting to be with him right now.

When she kissed him, it was slow, deep, and her eyes slipped closed easily. Sex wouldn't make everything better, it wouldn't make it easier and it wouldn't make Sawyer go away, but she wanted it all the same.

"Good," he managed before her mouth closed over his again. He wanted this too - had wanted it and not even really realized it. They should go to the bedroom, they should get these annoying clothes out of the way, but he couldn't quite move. It was always easy to get lost in tasting her, in how she smelled.

He slid a hand up her side and hesitated a moment before he cupped her breast through fabric, squeezing slightly.

A breathless sound escaped Lily at the touch of his hand, though she was careful to stay quiet, to muffle the sound against his lips. Sometimes all she wanted to do was get somewhere private, strip him down, but there was something she especially liked about this, making out in his kitchen, perched on the counter with him between her legs. This, she realized, was why she'd come here instead of going somewhere else, instead of tracking Sawyer down again. This was where she felt like herself.

She laughed softly, realizing she was still a little drunk, then pulled back a bit to smile at Delta. "We should go into your bedroom," she suggested. "I'm not sure Eleanor likes me enough yet to forgive catching us out here."

He echoed the laugh, one hand tangling in her hair. "I wonder if she would forgive me." He stepped back - not enough to separate them completely but enough to give her room to stand if she wanted to, and grinned, her eyes moving over her body with undisguised hunger.

Now he doesn't wonder what to do.

"Do you want to walk, or would you like me to carry you?"

"I don't know that anyone's ever given me the option before," she teases, hooking one leg around Delta's hip and then the other, pulling him close to her again. She can walk, she's far from too drunk for that, but there's something deeply appealing about how much bigger he is than her. She likes being reminded of it, likes letting him take over.

But then, what she's said isn't entirely true. She remembers Sawyer finding her that night in the jungle, carrying her home.

She pushes that away. She's here now, with Delta. "Think you can carry me without walking into anything?" she asks with a smile.

"I think I can." He slid one hand under her thigh, one around her waist. and it was really very easy to lift her up and carry her out of the kitchen, through the living room and toward the little hallway that led to his bedroom. Right outside Eleanor's door he almost stumbled and suppressed a laugh against the side of her throat, turning into his own room.

When he put her down on the bed he went down with her, already kissing her again, Why she was here, for the moment, didn't matter. What mattered was that she was. And now she was in his bed.

"Shhh," she hissed, trying not to laugh herself when he nearly stumbled. He carried her so easily, held onto her without a problem and when he put her down again, Lily wrapped her arms around him, kissing him in return, tugging him closer to her. Nothing had to be complicated, she realized. Everything could be easy, because this was easy, and she could ignore the things that were trying to push in, trying to make her think it was more difficult than it really was.

She kicked off her shoes, hearing them thump softly to the floor as her hands roamed down Delta's back and then up under the hem of his shirt, fingers spreading against his warm skin.

Now that they were on the bed, the clumsiness hadn't abated, but it was slower, a little more relaxed, and when he leaned back and pulled his shirt off over his head he didn't rush it. And some of it was that there wasn't any more worry that she wouldn't like what she saw. Scars and all.

He leaned in again, pushing a hand up under her own shirt, feeling the way the muscles of her belly trembled as he ran his fingers up her side.

"Tell me what you want," he breathed, and some of it was that he genuinely wanted to know, wanted to do whatever would please her - but some of it was the way it made him feel, to say that. Like he did have his own kind of power here.

"Oh, god," she murmured, watching him as he undressed, taking him in, the movement of his muscles, the stretch of his skin. He was absolutely gorgeous, something she'd known for a long time now and yet it felt like she was discovering it all over again every time she saw it.

And then he was speaking to her and she had to pull her attention away from the way he looked, the way his hand felt on her even as her teeth pressed down against her lower lip. "I just want you," she said, slipping her hands down his back, arching toward him. She kissed him again, long and slow, before she pulled away. "I want you to fuck me."

He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan and then lost himself in the complications of trying to help her remove her clothes without a break in kissing her. It was at once fast and too slow, not enough of her skin under his hands and more than he knew what to do with, and though he hadn't been drinking, he wondered if somehow some of the effects had bled off into him.

But it didn't matter. When he had her breast cupped in his hand, his other sliding around to the small of her back, nothing much mattered but that.

She tried to help him where she could, unhooking her bra, the button on her jeans, but mostly she was caught up in his touch, in the feel of his mouth on hers and his skin under her wandering fingers. He was here with her, no one else, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been sure of that, the last time she'd known it with certainty.

"Delta," she breathed against his lips, trying to get him completely undressed, wanting to get to his skin, to everything.

He wasn't sure how or when he got the rest of his clothes off. What he was aware of, without any real transition, was lying tangled up with her, nothing at all left between their skins, his mouth making its way down the column of her throat. She still felt delicate under him, her dancer's body, but because of that it was also so strong, and he loved the way the two fit together.

In some ways - maybe in that way - they were alike. He could be weak. Had the freedom to be so, now.

"Is this helping?" He smiled against her collarbone, one hand already sliding down her belly to nestle between her thighs.

Lily's breath caught before she could answer, her body moving toward his hand, back arched up off the bed briefly. Then she laughed, her lips curving as she turned her head, her cheek pressed against a pillow and she managed a nod. "It's helping," she said, then realized that wasn't entirely what it was. His hands, his body, his mouth, it wasn't just about sex, it was that they were all his.

"You're helping," she corrected, her fingers pushing into his hair.

"Good," he murmured, and slipped two fingers into her.

She was hot and so wet, tight - or maybe it was the size of his hand - but he felt her open around him, for him, and he made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. There was still something of the wonder that he had felt the first time, and the time after, but now there was familiarity, too.

"You feel so good," he breathed.

"Oh, god," she moaned before she lifted one hand to her mouth pressing her fingers to her lips, still aware that she needed to be quiet, that Eleanor was asleep. Her breath quickened and she shifted, bending her knee, pressing closer toward Delta, the fingers of her free hand tightening on his back.

He'd never once needed her guidance, she realized, he knew exactly what he was doing and the feel of his fingers inside her was good, it was perfect, and she tipped her head up, finding his mouth with hers again.

For the moment he was content to simply do that, fingering her slowly, stretching her just a little, and all the while kissing her until he felt like the borders of their skin were getting fuzzy and soft, like he could melt into her.

And he wasn't really inside her yet.

"I like watching you," he murmured, slipping his mouth free and looking down at her. "You're so beautiful. You're always beautiful."

She'd heard it before, she'd been hearing it for a good portion of her life and yet there was something about the way Delta said it that was always different. Something that made her feel warm, a deep sense of satisfaction and pleasure spreading through her and she couldn't help but smile, even as her breath caught again. It was more than just knowing it when he said it; he made her feel beautiful.

"You can... god," she breathed, pausing to find her train of thought as she bit her lower lip. "You can watch me as much as you want." Her eyes opened again and she looked at him. "As long as I can watch you."

He laughed, half incredulous. "Watch me?" He ground himself slowly against the edge of her hip, hard and hot but not in any great hurry, keeping himself in a slow burn more than anything else.

He wanted to make this last.

He lowed his head and bit very lightly at her collarbone. "Watch me do what?"

"Anything," she said with a laugh, pressing back against him, her movements slow even though she wanted him so badly she felt it in every part of her, every shift of her body. "I just like... you." She'd known it was true for a long time now, knew what she was doing, what she wanted even if she wasn't the type of person to talk about it or tell anyone.

For a little while, she'd thought Sawyer being here might complicate that, might change it, but it didn't. She still wanted to be here, she wanted to be with Delta.

This time the laugh was a rumble deep in his chest, half muffled against her breast as he started to slide down her body, trailing kisses as he went. At the apex of her breast he stopped, hesitated, then closed his teeth lightly over her nipple and tugged.

It almost surprised him, that he would do that. That he would feel the impulse to, as if he wanted to hurt her. But it was something else, something hungry and predatory that nevertheless didn't want at all to force or cause pain. Something from behind that wall that he still couldn't break through.

"I like you, too," he whispered when he released her.

Lily's breath caught, her lips parted and back arched at the feel of his teeth. "God," she moaned, feeling little tremors running through her, like electric currents under her skin and both her hands flexed and released. She laughed a little, still breathless, pressing down on his fingers and she was so impatient now, she wanted him, but at the same time, she wanted more of this. A slow build, heat inside her growing, his hands and mouth on her skin, pulling sounds out of her with every movement.

"Good," she managed to say a moment later, though she was only partly aware that she was speaking at all.

This time he didn't respond at all. He was too distracted, lightly raking his teeth down over her ribs, pausing to taste the skin of her belly before he went lower. He didn't have to ask permission this time, and he had no doubts about what he was doing. His fingers kept moving inside her, slow and steady, and when he settled between her thighs and his tongue found her clit, the circles it made were slow as well.

He hoped she never got tired of this, as long as he was with her. He was going to do everything he could to make sure she didn't.