BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - ROMANCE

WHOSTHATGIRL

Needful Things - R to NC-17 - REPOST
Sunday, November 11, 2007

Mal's back is against the wall...
Belongs to somebody not me. Blah blah blah, yackety schmackety.
Please to comment. Good. Bad. Whatever.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2915    RATING:     SERIES: FIREFLY

Inara’s taken to crawling into his bunk when the nightmares get too bad. Which seems to settle and soothe her to sleep. Been doing so for a solid week.

Mal wishes he could say the same on his own account. But laying there with his arms wrapped around a jasmine-scented dream makes his heart ache for things they ought not be, and parts of him further south hurt just as bad for other things no less needful.

Because he is past wanting her and at downright needing her.

And the Sweet Baby Buddha knows that with his back against the bulkhead because his bunk was really never designed for two, her satin-shortie-covered bottom wedged tight against his groin is putting all manner of lustful thoughts into his head. Furthermore, the knowledge that, with a small tilt of his head, he can see all the way down her pajama top is not easing matters.

It’s a wonder he gets any sleep.

Was easier when he awoke from those lustful dreams to an empty bed. He could deal with his body’s reaction in the manner to which he had become accustomed. Might not be all that much fun compared to actually having her there, but at least he could get some relief.

Having the object of those fantasies right there, but him unable to do all those deliciously wicked things he imagines, is driving him right ‘round the bend. Might as well sign him up for a room next to River’s in the bughouse. Thing is, on the one hand, he looks forward to her snuggled up to him. Makes him think maybe he’s got a shot. And the view down her top is a nice bonus.

On the other, he knows he is just a man, and not entirely made of stone.

This time is particularly trying, as she is a bit restless and shifting against him, reminding him that mebbeso parts of him are made of stone. Ai ya, he can’t take much more, lest he overstep his bounds. He gently shakes her to wake her up.

“Inara, bao-bei, we gotta talk.”

She mumbles and shifts against him more, which is only making it worse. He wonders if she is doing it on purpose.

“Darlin’, please. This is serious.”

Trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

She rolls over to look at him sleepily, hair mussed and lips close enough to almost make him do something likely to get him smacked. He thinks that just possibly kissing her might be worth the smack.

“What is it, Mal? I was sleeping.”

He turns the lights on very dimly as she blinks at him.

“Yeah, well, I ain’t. Which is not to say that ya ain’t welcome down here when the nightmares get to ya. But when ya do, I’ll just take up residence in the chair.”

She looks confused, slightly hurt. He mentally kicks himself for his hamfisted attempt at being a gentleman. Why is it he bumbles around when it comes to her?

“I…I wish you wouldn’t. I feel safer with you next to me.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. She is bound and determined to not make this easy on him. Story of his life, he supposes.

“Flatterin’ as that is, I can’t say as I feel the same way. Best for both of us if I keep just a bit of distance.”

Which is the last thing he wants, but it is all he has to offer her as proof that he is not like all the other men.

“How do I make you feel unsafe, Mal.”

He means to bite back the words, but he just can’t. Not any longer.

“How do ya *not* make me feel unsafe, darlin’? Ya look at me with those big eyes like I am some sorta hero, and the truth of it is that I ain’t. I am just a man, Inara. And I just wish like hell you’d see that.”

“I do, Mal.”

He shakes his head because he knows otherwise. He hasn’t felt this defeated since Serenity Valley.

“Yeah? How many other men let ya in their bed without actually bedding you? Not a one, I’d wager. So whaddya think that says about me, Inara? D’ya think I’m made of that much stronger stuff not to want what they do? Or is it that ya don’ even see me as a man in the first place?”

She blushes and Mal thinks he should not be quite so pleased to have thrown her off her game.

“Mal, I never…”

“Never what? Thought that I would notice how ya smell like jasmine? Or how soft yer skin is? Or that I just might wanna kiss ya?

She sounds genuinely surprised, as though Mal were the last person she’d have thought of in that way, but not because he is beneath her, but maybe the other way around.

“You…you…want to kiss me?’

A whisper that he almost doesn’t hear.

“Yeah, maybe I do. And then ya got the nerve to ask me how ya make me feel all unsafe. Because, Inara, ya make me want things that ain’t the least bit safe. Things that no way in the ‘verse should I be hurtin’ for as bad as I do. Things I gave up on long ago. Needful things.”

He’s torn between kicking himself for showing his hand so readily at the flutter of her impossibly thick eyelashes and wanting to kiss away the hurt in her eyes. He is inches from doing just that, but it might as well be Serenity Valley between them.

“Mal I never meant to…”

“To what? Run away? Hurt me? Well, right now yer two for two, Inara.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

Leave. Stay. Let me be the last man for you. Go back to your Core and marry some fancy man and forget about me.

The possibilities swirl around him so thick, he can barely speak.

But ultimately, there is only one thing he wants of her.

“Give me what I need, Inara. Give me hope.”

She looks at him, unblinking, for a long moment, then reaches up a hand to gently trace his lips as she nods. Mal realizes he’s been holding his breath. And that, right there, is his complete undoing.

A man can only hold back that kinda need for so long before it just has its way with him.

He closes the bottomless chasm of those few inches between them to finally kiss her. Gently at first, for he still thinks she might spook on him and bolt, and if there was one thing he learned from the ranch hands, it is that once a horse spooks, you might never get it to trust you. More insistent when it becomes clear she has no intention of leaving.

He can taste jasmine, musk and a hint of her favorite tea she has before bedtime. And something that is the essence of her, which he knows he will take to his grave.

But he is far too distracted by Inara shifting against him, and he does believe it to be on purpose this time. Two can play that game, as he swiftly undoes the three small buttons holding together her pajama top. He wonders if the rosebud tips on those perfect breasts also taste of jasmine and musk, as he barely grazes his thumb over them and she arches into him even more.

Yep, they do.

He can feel her hands quickly undoing the drawstring on his sweatpants and winces slightly as she hastily pushes them down over his hips and to his knees, leaving him to kick them off the rest of the way. He returns the favor by carefully drawing down those troublesome satin shortie-bottoms. And finds himself staring, it never having occurred to him that womenfolk would shave…down there. But he thinks he will learn to like it.

Then, before Mal realizes what she’s doing, Inara is kissing her way down his chest, to his stomach and then…

He should stop her because that’s something only whores do. And despite the careless abandon with which he has flung the word in her face time and again, the truth of it is that he never once really thought she was one. Long second pass as he tries to convince his cock that what she is doing really doesn’t feel half so good as it actually does.

“Bao-bei, hold up there a sec.” His voice sounds far too husky in his own ears.

She raises her head and grins seductively at him. A practiced one, that she’s given thousands of times before to thousands of other men. The same one he’s used himself in a thousand fevered fantasies of her while he works his own release.

“What is it, Mal? Don’t you like it?”

His johnson is plotting revenge against him for making her stop. He knows it.

“Oh I most assuredly do, Inara. But this falls under that whole ‘no servicing’ thing which, as I recall, you told me was not up for negotiation.”

The smile of his fantasies falters just a bit.

“Mal, I’m with you because I want to be. Not because I am servicing you.”

With that, he reaches down and pulls her up the length of his body, savoring the feel of every inch of that silken skin slide over his body.

“Then c’mere and be with me, sweetheart.”

With that, he rolls her underneath him. Pauses and looks down at the singular focus of every lustful thought he has ever had for the last two years, actual and whole, laid out for him. In that moment, he has to be certain this is what she wants, lest she not be real for him.

“Darlin’ one last time. Tell me this is what you want.”

Inara nods. But it’s not enough. He needs to hear the words.

“Yes or no, Inara. Need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mal.”

Knowing those words will change everything, he takes ahold of himself and slowly slides into her. She is warm and tight and most of all, real. Was his brain not currently short-circuited, he might even think she felt like home.

Then she starts to move beneath him, urging him on to move his own hips in the same frantic rhythm. He does believe that his cock might just forgive him for the earlier affront.

He wants to take his time about it. But there is two years worth of pent-up lust and heat between them. And Mal is bound and determined to make up for all that lost time as his movements get more and more frantic as he feels her tighten down around him for the umpteenth time.

And then he can’t hold back and comes so damn hard and sharp that it almost hurts. He has to stop himself from howling out Inara’s name, lest Zoe come flying down the ladder, brandishing her mare’s leg. He kisses Inara hard right at that instance he hits his release.

Takes a good long while before his breathing has slowed down enough for coherent thought to return to his head. Inara settles herself down on his chest, not caring that both of them are drenched in sweat.

Did she sweat for her clients? Mal can’t decide if he cares to know the answer or not, certainly not with her all warm and worn-out in his arms.

For now, in this moment, he has what he needs.

COMMENTS

Friday, August 28, 2009 10:21 PM

SYDNEYDEBS


WOW...fantastic and about damn time too. thanks


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