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“You can do that?” Rose asks in stunned amazement, but the Doctor has never lied to her and she knows in her gut that it’s true.
“If I have to. Takes a bit of time to gather the energy, but I could have made it in time to save you if the TARDIS hadn’t intervened. But you really…you don’t want me to ever have to.” His arms shake a little as he holds her. “It’s hard to come back from.” He buries his face in her neck and runs his hands over her body, trying to reassure himself she is still in one piece and Rose whimpers softly, her hands slipping under his jacket, under his jumper, finding his skin and he groans.
Jack coughs and they realize they’ve forgotten he’s standing there. Rose flushes as she realizes what her noise in response to the Doctor’s touch must have sounded like to Jack, what their touching must look like. Jack glances back and forth between them, mutters something about being hungry and leaves the control room.
“He’s starting to suspect,” the Doctor tells her, his blue eyes sharp as they study her face.
“Let him. I’m yours,” she says.
“He thought you were Mickey’s,” the Doctor says.
“I’m not.” She’s emphatic, wants no misunderstandings.
“Wasn’t sure there for a while,” he replies.
“What do you mean?” Rose asks.
“I heard you and saw you when you were talking to him. You weren’t far enough away. The TARDIS monitoring system could pick you up. I heard him ask you to go to a hotel. I saw you agree.” His eyes are full of pain and she blanches at having put it there.
“I…” Rose looks down and then back up again, meets his eyes. “I wanted to let him down easy.”
“How easy? Flat on your back easy?” And the Doctor can’t help the edge of anger, hurt and barely contained fear in his voice.
“No,” she snaps. “I wasn’t going to sleep with him! I don’t want anyone but you. Don’t you know that yet?”
“I saw it, Rose. How you are with him. And I heard it.” His voice goes hard.
“I just…I wanted to get him away from here. He feels bad enough about me running off with you without me breaking up with him in the shadow of the TARDIS. I wouldn’t have let it go that far. Figured we’d go for a drink at a hotel bar and we’d talk and I’d let him know it was over. That’s it, Doctor.”
“You’re sure?” His eyes beg her for the truth, but his voice is like steel. He’s hardening himself in case the truth rips him to shreds.
“I meant it when I said I’m yours. I am. All yours. Only yours. Always.” She reaches up and touches his face, strokes it gently, conveys what her heart feels with the two warm amber orbs that are her eyes. Her hands drift down across his chest, continue to stroke him, to plead with him with her eyes. Something inside him snaps, a band that has been constricting his hearts, as relief rushes through him. He chooses to believe her. He chooses to move forward and she shudders in relief.
He’s always been careful with her before. This time he can’t be. It’s like he has a sudden need to possess her, to make her his again before anyone can intervene and say she’s not. He knows he must have changed his expression to one that overwhelms her for her eyes look at him with something he’s not seen there in the past, doubt or fear or trepidation, he’s not sure. He pushes past her uncertainty and pulls her to him. He is hot and hard and desperate to have her.
Rose trembles beneath his touch, makes no attempt to pull away, but her eyes are large as saucers when he tilts her face up to kiss him. The kiss he lays upon her is bruising, nearly punishing and she grabs onto his jacket to steady herself against his aggressive taking of her mouth. She doesn’t even try to kiss him back, just lets him in, lets him plunder, lets him have what he wants to take and strokes the back of his neck while he takes it, her hips arching into him.
The Doctor backs her up against the wall and puts his hand on her leg, sliding up her thigh and under the denim skirt she wears, hooks his fingers over the top of her tights and her knickers and yanks them down, all the while his tongue never stopping its dominance of her mouth. His booted foot comes up, snags into the fabric of the tights and knickers, pushing them to the floor. His counter-resistance on the material is enough for her to step out of her black boots and the undergarments all in two steps and there is nothing to stop his questing fingers as they slide back up under her skirt.
“Doc, I--.” Jack breaks off as he walks into the control room with a sandwich, sees Rose pressed tightly against the wall, sees where the Doctor’s hand has disappeared.
“Not now, Jack,” the Doctor growls pulling his lips away from Rose. His voice is nearly feral with his need.
“Rose, are you okay?” Jack double checks.
“I’m fine, Jack,” she says through battered lips.
“Go away,” the Doctor says in a voice that barely contains some emotion he’s not even sure what to call. He only knows it is intense and it fires the blood in his veins. He unzips his zipper, frees his straining erection, keeps his back to the interloper.
“It’s okay,” she tells Jack again.
“It doesn’t look okay,” Jack says.
“We’re together,” Rose tells him. “The Doctor and me. I’m fine. Just go.”
Jack retreats from the console room and the Doctor pushes her harder into the wall. “Together,” he says almost in a snarl. His hands slide onto her bum and he lifts her body up. He can hear her little human heart beating at a breakneck pace. So fast, so furious. The smell of her arousal fills his nostrils. He thrusts into her without checking to see if she’s ready for him, her scent telling him she is, and she cries out as he fills her.
“Together,” he says as he begins to move within her. She is still pressed hard to the wall, his hands still holding her, but now he is slamming his penis up into her, taking her with a strength her eyes tell him she has always known he’s had, but that he has always held back. His reduction to this animalistic state has her clamping down hard around him within a further minute, her scream in orgasm so loud he fears it might bring Jack back to the console room, ready to interfere.
He continues to raise and lower her body on his shaft, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as she holds on for the ride. Her legs, which had loosened, fasten tightly about him again. It does not take him long now that she’s come and he pounds into her furiously until he does, too, shooting the cool fluid up deeply into her body.
The Doctor holds her against the wall for a full minute, his erection never softening, until he finds his strength to move and then he carries her out of the control room still wrapped about him and down the hall, grateful they do not encounter Jack along the way. He puts her down on his bed and finally looks into her eyes.
Her gaze is stunned and she looks confused and uncertain, but not ready to run from him. “What was that?” she asks him as he starts stripping off his clothes. The mad passion that had consumed him has eased, but he still wants her, needs her, will have her again. That much is clear in the dark storm of his eyes.
He doesn’t answer her, reaches instead for the rest of her garments, making short work of anything that comes between naked skin and naked skin. He spreads her legs, rests between them and she says, “I can’t do it like that again right now. Please, Doctor, whatever this is about, be more gentle with me this time.”
He nods without speaking, scrambles away and pushes her onto her side, spoons against her back, and enters her from behind, the limits of the position enough to slow him somewhat from his passions. He is grateful to be back inside the tight, welcoming warmth of her body and says so as he sets up a rhythm. She’s not done it like this before, the Doctor’s length making it a viable position and though she likes most of the sensations, she whimpers a little. Bits of her are still tender from their furious coupling and he slows himself to a lesser pace, his arm creeping around to play with the breasts he has laid bare until she’s crazy with need again.
She pushes back hard against him as he circles her nipple with his index finger and decides she doesn’t care that she’s rubbed a little raw. With encouraging words despite her violent hisses she eggs him back to a faster speed, a harder thrusting that makes her all but go blind in an orgasm that flashes through her in a rainbow of brilliant lights. He comes seconds later and she can feel it yet again as he empties himself inside her, that curious quivering feeling of his semen creeping inside her.
His arm fastens like a vice about her waist as he softens within her. She breathes out hard, desperately, and aches to tell him that she loves him. The words stick on the edge of her tongue, so instead she turns in the confines of his grip and raises her face to his, kissing him, running her hands over his body, waiting for the release of tension that has tightened his muscles against her.
She makes love to his mouth slowly, gliding her tongue gently against his, rolling it in circles about his, seeking out the roof of his mouth, feeling him arch into her. She explores the crevices of his teeth, searching out every nook and cranny, gently pillaging him in a way that is as careful and sweet as his was forceful and dominant.
Her hand runs over the lean muscles of his back, down to his bum, back up over his hip, his waist, up to his shoulder and down his arm. She slips a hand between them, slides it over his chest, his abdomen, his stomach, feels him hardening again, his penis pushing into her and starting its rippling waves, something that was absent from the two previous times they’d just made love. She wonders why as she feels it starting to pulse in her hand as she holds it, runs her fingers carefully against it, strokes him, pauses, holds him firm, strokes him again.
When he comes hard against her stomach it shocks her for she didn’t think it was possible for him to go off again so soon. “Don’t you have any refractory period at all?” she asks in amazement.
“I do, yeah,” he mumbles. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Or right with you.” She gives him a tired grin that still manages to be cheeky.
“Yeah,” he says. Her stomach growls and he pushes her away from him. “You should get cleaned up. Take a shower. Get something to eat.” He looks reluctant to see her go.
“Join me?” she asks him with heavy eyes. Already he’s hardening again. He nods his head and follows her into the bathroom. They barely make it into the shower before he’s on her again, pulling her down on the floor as the water rains upon them, and he’s rolling her on top so that the unyielding tiles don’t hurt her.
She is still confused at what’s gotten into him, but the lust has risen suddenly stronger than ever within her and she rocks against him until they find release again. Finally, finally he is spent and she feels a warmth suffusing her belly as his semen warms within her. It is an odd sensation, but she barely has time to think of it before he is lifting her off him, rising to his feet and gently washing away from her body all evidence of their lovemaking.
Afterwards all she can do is lean against him and the wall and when they are clean he carries her back to bed because her legs don’t want to work, deposits her lovingly in the center with a kiss and hurries to the galley for food. He throws together sandwiches, grabs a couple of bottles of the drink Rose likes and rushes back to her side.
The few minutes apart have been like agony to him, but he is grateful when he doesn’t rise again, only needs to touch her, hold her, sit beside her while they eat and the passion fades from desperation to gentle love. When the food is gone, they turn down the lights and lay together, gently petting and kissing and murmuring in the darkness. He tells her that he is happy. She makes him happy. He had forgotten how that felt, wasn’t sure after the Time War that he would ever know it again.
But he knows it with her, knows it intimately. It is a change he wants to get used to. One he knows he can and hopes he has the chance somewhere in this crazy life they lead. Because he knows better than anyone that it can all be taken away in a heartbeat. So he clings to her, clings to his precious girl, and finds it in him to finally murmur out loud the words he has been holding back in fear, an echo of her own. “I’m yours, too. All yours. Only yours. Always.” It doesn’t even matter to him that she’s fallen asleep and hasn’t heard him. Next time he tells her she’ll be awake. This time, this time was only practice.
Ch. 3: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/56479.html