lady_moon | Indy's Suite

Indy's Suite

She knocks before entering, but it's quiet.

Well, it's late, it should be quiet.

Moon pads into the suite on her bare feet (she briefly wonders if she's ever owned shoes) and makes her way to Indy's room. The wolves behind her, she stops just over the threshold and turns to them.

"No. You two are staying in the living room. And don't go terrifying the other residents here, all right? Just... be good. Like... normal puppies or something."

Mons sits and tilts her head. Why can we not sleep at the foot of the bed as we did last time?

Because she and Indy intend to make puppies. Mare proudly states this, nuzzling Mons' muzzle.

Moon feels herself flush painfully. "We are not making puppies, Mare. You two are enough for me, thank you, and... just... no!" Gods of the multiverse, she felt so silly. "Go sleep by the sofa and behave."

Mons and Mare trot off, their voices distant to her as they talk between themselves, and she sighs and closes the door to Indy's room.

Puppies?

No.

No puppies, no kitties, no chicks, no calves, no babies.

Moon sheds her clothes, folding them neatly as she does, and chooses to conjure a creamy white slip to wear. She wasn't shy or modest by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn't want to just sit nude in Indy's bed.

That just seems tasteless to her.

She pulls down the sheet and blanket on one side and crawls in and looks around the room as she hadn't the last two times she'd been in it. It was an Indy room, she decides. Very much like him and very much like the rough and laughy drink he'd given her.

Slowly, she smiles, nestling down into the bed where she could smell him so easily.

Oh, she very much likes him, she decides as she waits for his bartending shift to end.

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"This is an unpleasant topic. Unpleasant topics are... well... unpleasant."

She decides on a much more pleasant one.

Moon leans up a little to press her lips to his, taking his hand in hers.

Her advance is very welcome.

An agreeable murmur escapes him as he meets it and turns the soft pressure into an expressively deep kiss.

There is a little, plaintive moan in the back of her throat, but she eagerly gives herself over to the kiss. It was odd, she reflects, to be like this.

In a man's bed that didn't need her for something, to soothe some emotionally raw need.

Strange.

But lovely.

Indy slides a hand over her hip and draws it slowly up her back. It comes to rest between her shoulder blades, where its gentle caresses also serve a supporting purpose.

Elsewhere, the kiss intensifies somewhat, while never losing its warmth and tenderness.

Her hands hesitantly touch, curious as she kisses him with definite growing passion she hadn't been aware she could feel. Over his throat, along collarbone, ghost along his chest.

Shy, interested touch as her cheeks flush and she moves even closer against him.

Before the kiss reaches a crescendo, Indy senses the increasing fervency in her. He eases up his side of the affection a little, not drawing back, but encouraging her desire to become the driving force.

She's a little startled, sensing his intent, placing her in the position to direct their encounter. Moon's interest was piqued, and she found in her the necessary desire to lean forward and press her lips to his chest.

It was exhilarating for her, the freedom in this. He didn't grab at her. He didn't instruct her. It was as if he were permitting her the time and opportunity to discover what she would at her own pace.

And her pace is slow.

She calls on her scattered memory to try and piece together the things she thinks might be enjoyed or welcomed, lips pressed to skin, tongue darting out to taste, hands moving along muscle. While she did these things, cheeks still crimson, she would occasionally glance up at Indy for approval or encouragement, still uncertain, but gaining in her confidence.

His eyes droop closed contentedly. Low moans, barely audible rumbles, are more than approving. And as far as encouragement goes, he relaxes onto his back, offering more range to her explorations.

Her eyes sparkle.

She rests arms on either side of Indy, carefully and thoroughly exploring his torso. When she finishes to her satisfaction, she inches back up to kiss him, her hair creating a curtain around their faces.

Moon's smile is coyly innocent when she hovers there, just a little unsure now. "I seem to have run out of real estate to explore up here," she murmurs to him.

"Tragic."

There's a certain glint in Indy's eyes too, when he finally opens them.

"You could see if there's anything to chart in the southern hemisphere."

"Or..." he says, tracing a finger down her neck, through the hollow at the base, and lower, until it meets the top hem of her chemise. "I could do some exploring myself."

She grins slowly.

"I am something new for you to explore, hmm?" she teases. "You're far newer, though, to me. I've..." Moon blushes furiously. "I've never explored anyone in bed."

But the prospect intrigues her.

She can't look at his face as her hand glides down his stomach and lower, her fingers just sliding under the waistband of his boxers. She pauses, a moment's hesitance, then she slides her hand completely in to touch him lightly.

Moon's face takes on a look of intense concentration as she touches and explores, fascinated by the whole experience so far.

As her fingers make their initial sortie into the new territory, Indy's draws in a deep breath and holds it. His eyes close again, and his stomach muscles tense. The response is definitely not conveying any discomfort.

When his lungs start to burn, he allows their contents to escape in a highly gratified groan.

Her faint, interested smile quickly becomes a coy smirk.

The sound resonated with something in her. Arousal snakes low in her belly, surprising her for a moment. She takes that brief moment to analyze it, poking at what she was feeling...

...and then she gives a throaty, pleased chuckle.

Moon scoots down and, in an act of empowered decision-making, removes the last of Indy's clothing. She tosses the boxers to the floor, and sits there quickly taking in the general sight of his body. She was not a virgin, no, but she'd never allowed herself the emotional interest in a man's body that she allowed herself now.

She had liked that groan he made.

Now, with her hand, her eyes bright, she seeks to make him do it again, that same coy smirk on her mouth.

Her efforts aren't in vain.

The next groan is louder, and carries heightening pleasure with it. And there are physical reactions, that indicate his enjoyment and validate her endeavors.

Moon touches him lightly at first, until she's more certain of herself, then that grip becomes firm. She remembers things, fragmentally, from previous encounters she has.

She remembers instructions and demands.

So she waits for Indy's instructions, his demands.

And she waits.

When they don't come, she puzzles out that... maybe... there would be none. Only her choices and what she wanted to do.

She thinks about that.

What did she want to do?

Slowly, shyly, she bends her head to him. She's grateful for her hair that falls around her to hide her face as she takes that first, timid sweep with her tongue.

Indy's eyes pop open initially. They pop wide open. His head lifts up, and there's another relatively sharp intake of breath. But then, as that first spark of excitement filters into a more manageable flow of exhiliration, his eyelids gradually fall again, until they become quite tightly shut, and his head settles back into the pillow.

His hand finds her forearm and applies reassuring strokes, clenching sometimes when she breaks the rhythm or changes her focus. But that's it as far as his involvement is concerned. For the next little while, he just lays back and indulges, letting her work without guidance, and rewarding her with the almost constant thrum of his luxuriating moans.

She is by no means an expert, and it does show.

However, his touches and sounds, the reactions of his body, make her quite proud of what skill she does possess.

Very proud.

Moon stops, a little breathless, and demurely shifts her position so she is straddling his thighs with her hands on his wrists so she can lightly pin him to the mattress. She leans forward with a dancer's grace, her slip cool against him, and smiles at him. She's almost close enough to kiss him, and if she stretched the full-length of her upper body, she could.

But she doesn't.

She just smiles.

Indy looks up at her. There's no hiding the longing in his gaze, mingled in with the deep appreciation. It's not desperate per se, but it's powerful, and founded on far more than lust.

He eventually manages to comment.

"I take it there was nothing that tasted like beetles down there."

"Not that I was aware of," she replies lightly, her delight at his gaze apparent in her own. "But, if you would like, I could always try again just to be sure..."

"I'd like that a lot," he confesses.

"But I think you've earnt a little break first."

His hands are already teasing up the silky material that covers her torso.

She grins at him, resting her palms on his chest.

"Have I?" Moon arches into his touch some. "Well, far be it from me not to let a gentleman express his appreciation for my talents," she teases.

"Oh, there'll be appreciation alright," he blusters.

He then frowns when the slip meets the resistance of her planted arms.

"Little help here?"

She giggles, sitting back and pulling the slip off herself and letting it fall to the floor.

"Is that better?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mild mischief.

Indy raises himself a bit, in order to smooth his hands down her newly-naked sides.

"I think 'better' is a very relative term. Especially after the treatment I just received."

She shivers, sighing pleasantly.

"I'm flattered you feel so about my attentions," she murmurs, touching his stomach lightly. She swallows, keeping her eyes on a spot on his chest, feeling her cheeks flush again as she whispers, "I like how you look at me."

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henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com - 2007-04-04 06:21 (UTC) - Expand

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lady_moon - 2007-04-04 06:49 (UTC) - Expand

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