After the Fall Ch. 05

"I don't want to wake Michael up."

Mariah snorted. "You don't have to wake him up. I will, and I don't mind a bit."

When she knocked on the door, Michael called for her to come in. He was sitting up in bed, still wired from the combination of fatigue and nerves.

"I don't know why you always knock. You can just come in."

"I doubt you would have appreciated it if I barged in a week ago."

He fixed her with a glare. "Do you really want to talk about that right now?"

"No. I want to talk to you about Ezra."

"What about him?"

"Sarah's having trouble. She feels safe with him. I was wondering if you could see if Ezra would mind if she stayed with him tonight."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You realize he's infatuated with her, right?"

"It's hard to miss. But that's not what this would be about. She just needs to be near him. Unlike some people, I think Ezra can refrain from trying to jump the poor girl's bones. Don't you?"

"That's not fair. I've never tried to jump her bones."

"Cute. But seriously, don't you think he would be a gentleman?"

"Of course I do."

"Would you mind calling him just to see how he feels about it? Maybe just tell him it's something we're thinking about? If he seems okay with it, Sarah and I will call him and ask."

"Sure, I can do that. You guys are making it a lot harder than it needs to be, though."

"Probably so. Let us know how it goes."

Sarah was twisting her hands anxiously when Mariah returned.

"Are you nervous about staying with him or nervous about what he's going to say."

"I'm nervous about everything."

Sarah didn't have to be nervous for long. Michael poked his head in -- without knocking, Mariah noted -- to tell them Ezra was on his way up.

"On his way up? You were just supposed to find out how he felt about it."

"I did. He felt like coming up to get her right away."

She looked at Sarah and shrugged. "Men."

Mariah collected a dressing robe and some socks for Sarah. "Can you think of anything else you need?"

"No, mom," Sarah teased her.

"Brat."

It wasn't long before Ezra arrived. The awkwardness only lasted a moment. Before long they were on their way down the hall while Ezra put Sarah at ease with another silly story.

Mariah flopped down on her bed and yawned. She felt a little guilty that she was so relieved Sarah was staying with Ezra. Before she could crawl under the covers, Michael was back, without knocking, naturally.

"I'm sleepy."

"Come be sleepy in my bed."

She grumbled about it, but she followed him back to his room and burrowed beneath the covers. He crawled in after her and turned off the light. With Mariah safely tucked against his body, he expected to fall asleep right away. Instead of drifting off, he found himself at the mercy of the imperative to claim her again. Her near abduction this morning left him with a territorial impulse he had difficulty ignoring now that Sarah was with Ezra. The slow, deep rhythm of Mariah's breathing suggested that she was already asleep, untroubled by similar compulsions.

He gently stroked her stomach, bared by the crop top of the pajama set she was wearing. When she didn't stir, his hand crept lower, edging beneath her sleep shorts. Her skin was soft and warm, tempting him lower to indulge in the casual intimacy of doing something just barely naughty to her while she slept. His caresses drifted down to the verge of her mons and back up again, over her stomach and under her pajama top to stroke the velvety undersides of her breasts.

When she showed no signs of waking, he brushed his fingers across her nipple. There was a little hitch in her breathing, but it settled back into the same even rhythm. Light caresses made her nipple stiffen and swell. He was tempted to see how far he could take things without waking her up. Another time, maybe. He wanted her awake. He pinched her nipple gently and rolled it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, provoking a soft grunt of protest followed by a low moan.

"Wake up for me, kitten."

She stretched against him and encountered his erection. Still sleepy, she wiggled back against him and snuggled down into the bed.

"Mariah?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can you wake up for me?"

"Okay," she agreed, but seconds later, she was asleep again.

Michael felt bad about waking her, but not bad enough to deny the urge that was as much emotional as it was physical. He wanted to fuck her, but more than that, he needed to have her. Only hours had passed since he had driven home his claim, but it felt far longer. After the tracking device debacle, followed by the miserable week and a half of her rejection, and -- if he was honest with himself -- his mistreatment of her, capped by those horrible minutes when he feared he would lose her, he needed the reassurance as much as he needed her body.

He slipped his hand down beneath her pajamas again to squeeze her pussy possessively. The gasp he elicited was not born entirely of pleasure. Earlier, he had been determined to give her a fucking she would feel for a while. It seemed he had accomplished that, but now wanted her again. He rolled her onto her back and sat her up. She blinked in the moonlight.

"I need you to take your clothes off for me, kitten." She nodded but made no move to do anything about it.

He needed to give serious thought to instituting a rule about sleeping naked. That went for him, too. His sleep shorts had become uncomfortably restrictive. Standing beside the bed, he shed his shorts and reached for Mariah. It wasn't until he tugged her hand that she noticed he was standing up. She looked up at him and gave him a funny little smile. Dealing with her when she was half-asleep was a bit like dealing with a very cooperative drunk.

When he reached for her other hand, her attention fell to his bobbing cock.

"Oh," she said. The tip of her tongue ran along the seam of her lips, clearing up any confusion about the meaning of "oh."

He let go of her hands and stroked his cock. "Do you want this, kitten?"

She watched without answering, so he stopped. That got her attention.

"You didn't answer me."

She scrunched up her forehead, trying to wake her brain up. "What did you ask?"

He sighed. "Never mind. Come here."

She crawled over to him, all lazy grace and bedroom eyes. She tried to lick his cock, but he backed away.

"Uh-uh. You ignored me when I asked if you wanted it."

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

"You never asked me."

At least she was awake now. The interval between truly waking up and arguing with him was practically nonexistent, but since she was arguing over losing her chance to get her mouth on his cock, he couldn't be too upset over it. In fact, the more he thought about it, the less aggravated he was. She was in his bed, on her hands and knees, pouting because he didn't let her lick his cock. And he was denying her because she had been too sleepy or too distracted to pay attention? He decided to overlook it.

"I did ask you. Do you want to argue about it, or do you want to make up for ignoring me?"

She looked away and didn't answer. He tilted her chin up, making her stretch her neck to look at him. "Which is it, kitten? What do you want to do?"

"Make up for ignoring you."

"How do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know."

He heard the frustration in her voice and realized that once again, he'd pushed her a little too far. She was looking back over her shoulder now, eyeing her pillow.

"It's okay. Just come here and stand up."

He was relieved when she stood without argument. After he undressed her, he stopped her from returning to bed before he could look at her. The moonlight silvered the golden tone of her skin and lent it a lambent glow. The line of her jaw, her collarbone, her navel, and the cleft of her thighs were shaded by soft shadows. Deeper shadows below her breasts emphasized the fullness of their lower curves.

When his hand fell from her shoulder, she crawled back under the covers and curled up in her spot. It had taken so little time to go from watching her crawl to him across his bed to watching her retreat in frustration beneath the covers. Sometimes, he really was his own worst enemy. He pulled the covers off of her and climbed onto the bed next to her. When she didn't move, he rolled her onto her back so that she was looking up at him. She started fidgeting with the pillowcase.

He traced the bottom of her lower lip with a fingertip. "I need you, sweetheart."

She frowned. "Then why do you make it so hard?"

"I don't know." He smiled ruefully. "Why do you?"

"It depends."

A few gentle caresses over her throat were all it took to get her to arch her neck for him. "What does it depend on?"

"Whether I can't help it, or I don't want to help it."

It was so rare for her to give him a real answer, even a cryptic one, that he wasn't sure at first how he should follow it up.

"What's the reason when you can't help it?"

"I don't know."

"What about when you can help it?"

"Sometimes it's because you've been being awful. Sometimes it's because I feel like a butterfly pinned to a board. Sometimes it's because I'm afraid of things being worse later, like they have been. Sometimes it's because I know I'll feel sad afterward. And sometimes," she looked at him challengingly, "it's just because you deserve it."

He was stunned to get that much information out of her. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what to ask next, while she was being forthcoming.

She must have guessed what he was thinking. "If I answer one question and you try to dissect me with a dozen others, do you think I'll answer your questions next time?"

He frowned. She had probably just saved him from making a mistake that would have set back his efforts to get her to talk to him. But how was he supposed to understand anything if he couldn't ask? He wondered if she had intended to help him, or if her sole purpose was to preempt more questions. Either way, she was warning him off. As a general rule, he was disinclined to let her get away with that sort of thing, but this seemed like a good time to make an exception.

"No more questions for now," he agreed. He leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips. "I'm still going to have you, though, kitten."

He nuzzled her breasts, breathing in her subtle scent. Teasing her, he licked the sensitive undersides of her breasts, tasting the saltiness layered over the slight sweetness of her skin there. He lowered his mouth over her nipple, exploring the texture as it plumped and tightened against his tongue. His gentle sucking grew steadily firmer as his own excitement grew. As much as he enjoyed her breasts, he was even more aroused by knowing what it was doing to her. He slipped a hand to her pussy. God, she was so slick already. His cock throbbed against her thigh.

Before things had gotten so bad between them, he discovered how much he enjoyed keeping her nipples sensitive, knowing that the slightest stimulation would have them swollen and aching for him; knowing that when he checked between her legs, her pussy would be wet and ready for him. It had been a heady experience. He wanted that back. He wanted it all back.

He sucked her nipple hard, then closed his teeth around its base and tugged it gently. Encouraged by her soft moan, he moved to her other breast and took the nipple into his mouth. Her breathing grew faster as his tongue swept back and forth across the peak. He sucked hard and drew back, letting her nipple slide between his teeth as he pulled away.

Suddenly, he felt like he wasn't getting enough of her. Not nearly enough. He slipped an arm between her shoulder blades to pull her up against his chest. As he bent to kiss her, he caught the scent of the gardenia and sandalwood shampoo she used. His gentle kiss quickly grew feverish. With his other hand cradling her head, she couldn't have escaped his kiss if she wanted to, and she was too overwhelmed by his onslaught to try. She was touching him now, and the simple act of wrapping her hand over his bicep felt erotic to him. She was still holding something back, though. He could feel it.

He relinquished her mouth reluctantly. "Mariah?"

"Hmm?" She looked confused. He had plunged her down into a sea of arousal only to pull her back from it.

"I know there are things we have to work out, but," he hurried on quickly when he saw her guarded expression, "can we set that aside just for tonight?" He brushed the side of his thumb against her cheek. "All those things will still be there tomorrow."

"I know." She sighed. "Every day, those things will still be there." She drew back, and he realized he'd done it again. He had pushed too far, gotten too greedy.

"No, Mariah. Things will change."

She was willing to believe that he thought things would change, but not that any real change was possible. Every morning, she would wake up to the same intractable mess. Every day, he would erode her ability to avoid being swallowed up by it.

"I'm so tired, Michael."

"Then don't fight me. Just let us have this tonight."

"I wasn't fighting you. What I gave you just wasn't good enough for you." The weary resignation in her voice carried a despondence deeper than her words alone conveyed.

He wrapped his arms around her. For a long moment, he held her close without saying anything. When he spoke, his voice was husky. "I'm sorry, baby. What you were giving me was beautiful. I just always want more of you, and I get stupid sometimes."

With a single finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face towards his. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her cheek; brushed a kiss along her cheekbone; and trailed light kisses along her jawline, and back towards her mouth. When he kissed her this time, his tongue plunged into her mouth, coaxing her tongue with his. He kissed her until she lost track of everything but his mouth on hers.

When he lowered her to the pillow, she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, but the pressure of his hand against her chest urged her all the way down. He laid on his side, propped up on his own elbow. When she reached across her body to touch him, he twined his fingers with hers and put her hand back on the bed.

"Not yet, kitten. Later, you can touch. Right now, I just want you to let me touch you."

His eyes fell to the mark he left on her neck earlier, and he dipped to kiss it. He kissed his way back to the center of her throat. Her neck arched for him, lucent in the moonlight, and he startled himself with a low growl that vibrated in his chest. She seemed to like it, and her chin tilted back further. He swirled his tongue in the hollow of her throat before he sucked at the delicate skin there.

When he raised his head, her little moan of disappointment made him smile. He leaned back on his elbow to observe the path of his hand as it wandered over her body, tracing her collarbone and drifting over the slope of her breast. He cupped her breast and squeezed it gently, watching it mound in his hand. Michael's face was partly shadowed, but she could see where he was looking, and it gave her a fluttery feeling to see him watching himself squeeze her breast. He flicked a finger across the tip of her nipple, and her breath caught, attracting his attention.

She shivered. He was looking at her face now, watching her reactions as he fondled her nipple. It was too intense, too naked, to be watched like that, and she wanted to look away. She knew he wouldn't let her. He never did. She bit back a moan as he squeezed and rolled her nipple back and forth between his fingers.

His hand trailed further down her body, over her stomach and toward her pussy. She was craving his touch, but she didn't want him taking her to pieces with his fingers while he watched it play out on her face. She reached for his hand and pulled it to her mouth to kiss his palm.

He smiled at her. "Trying to distract me?"

Instead of answering, she wrapped her lips around his thumb and sucked it softly. She really was very distracting, laying there with her tongue busy against the pad of his thumb, looking up at him as she sucked. He gently pulled his thumb away.

"As much as I enjoy your lovely little oral fixation -- and believe me, I do -- you're not going to sidetrack me."

His hand covered her pussy, and she could feel the heat radiating from his palm.

"Open your legs for me, sweetheart."

She moved them slightly apart.

"Do you need me to spread them for you?"

Shaking her head, she opened her legs wider.

"Good girl."

His hand slid further between her legs to fully cup her pussy. A gentle squeeze reminded her of the lingering tenderness from the possessive pounding she had taken earlier in the day. His hand felt so good, though, despite the tenderness -- maybe even because of it. When his finger slid into her, the small of her back came off the bed as she arched. His cock pulsed against her flank in response to her drawn-out moan.

"You're so wet for me, baby."

She closed her eyes, as if that would shut out the wet sounds he was causing.

"Eyes open."

Her eyes snapped open. She knew he'd stop if she didn't open them, and she desperately wanted him to keep touching her. Seeing him watch her face as he pumped her pussy was uncomfortably intimate, but undeniably erotic. Her eyelids tried to flutter closed when he slid a second finger into her, but she kept them open and saw him smile when she sighed in satisfaction.

"Tell me how it feels."

When she didn't answer, he jammed his fingers in harder. She wanted him to do it again.

"Tell me how it feels," he repeated.

She struggled to think coherently, and lost her train of thought, until his fingers stopped.

"Kitten..."

"I'm trying."

He smirked. "We can stop while you think about it."

Sifting through her thoughts for a response was hard when all she wanted was for the pleasure to start again.

"It feels like I need more," she attempted.

Mercifully, he resumed the movement, pushing in hard and pulling out slowly.

"I think you can do better than that."

She shook her head. She really couldn't.

"How about this?" He strummed his thumb across her clit. "How does that feel?"

"Please do it again."

"I will, just as soon as you tell me how it feels."

"Like..."

He could see the moment she gave up. The tension left her face and she relaxed around his fingers. A moment later, she tried to push his hand away. When she couldn't budge his hand, she huffed in frustration and looked away.

"Give me just one word, kitten."

"No." She folded her arms over her chest, despite the ridiculousness of the pose while lying down.

"Not the word I was looking for."

"I don't know what word you're looking for. Just do whatever you want to do, and I promise I'll do my part."

He withdrew his fingers and frowned. "Mariah, we are not going to go there again. If I ever catch you playacting again, I promise you that we will deal with it. You're not going to avoid things that way."

When she remained silent, he moved down between her legs, pushing them up and apart. The moisture along the seam of her pussy glistened in the moonlight. He inhaled deeply, trying to pin down her scent. It reminded him of musk and rain and chardonnay, but that didn't come close to capturing the essence of it. His cock ached beneath him as he scented her, and he shifted his hips to relieve the pressure. He could feel the heat rising from her body, but when he glanced up at her, her face was turned coolly aside.

Lowering his head again, he pointed his tongue and ran it up the center of her pussy, then watched it unfurl. He could hear her sharp inhalation, but she laid perfectly still. So stubborn. Pressing his tongue deeper, he dragged his tongue lazily up between her folds. He considered her intransigence as he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to appreciate the buttery texture all over his tongue.