amberfocus | The Boundaries of Consent (2/3)

Chapter One: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/82661.html

Chapter Two

The Doctor began stalking in the direction of the TARDIS towing her with him. “That was rude,” Rose told him as the cool nip of the fresh air made her shiver. He ignored her. “Doctor, what are you doing?” Rose demanded having to jog a little to keep up. He didn’t answer her, just kept pulling at her arm. When she tried to stop and yank it away from him he didn’t let her, just kept going like she hadn’t even tried. She’d forgotten how strong he was. Once at the ship, he jabbed his key into the lock and opened the doors.

He released her then, practically shoving her into the TARDIS. She rubbed at her left wrist as she stumbled up the ramp, fearing he had bruised it with his rough grip. As the circulation slipped back the pins and needles eased. What had gotten into him? Her mind whirled in confusion and uncertainty as she made it to the console and turned to see him leaning with his forehead pressed to the TARDIS doors. He was taking in deep breaths. “Doctor?” she asked.

The sound of her voice caused his shoulders to bunch with tension. He reached forward and snicked the lock carefully shut and then he turned to look at her. She had never seen such an expression on his face before. He had been moody, angry, unyielding, and stubborn, but there had never been darkness like this as his eyes glittered in the dim light. He strode up the ramp towards her and she took a few rapid steps backwards. What had she done to make him react this way? Was it even something she’d done? It must have been, because the look was definitely directed at her.

He paused at the console. With deliberate determination he sent the ship into the Vortex. Then he raised his eyes to hers. “Rose.” Even the way he said her name sent shivers through her system. She knew he was teetering on the edge of something, but for the life of her she couldn’t sense what. “Rose,” he said again, his voice darker, deeper, almost feral. He grabbed a hold of her again, pulling her aggressively into his body.

“Doctor, what the hell are you doing?” Rose demanded.

“I saw how he was touching you.” His hands came up around her, his fingers sliding over the exposed skin on her back. She shivered under the touch of his calloused fingers, startled at the way it made her nerve endings vibrate as her breasts pushed against his chest.

“Touching me? What? Who? John?” She tried to push back from him but he was holding on too tightly.

“Didn’t see you throwing yourself at anyone else now, did I?” he asked grimly.

“Some of it was overly familiar, but that was the dance, not the man,” she explained to him. Why she felt the need to defend herself, she didn’t know. She’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t wanted to dance so she’d danced with another man when he’d asked. The Doctor was acting jealous. In fact, his own hands were becoming overly familiar, she thought, as they glided down her back to caress her bum lightly.

“Doctor?” she asked indignantly. “Get off me!” She pushed him hard.

“You deny me and just let him…let him…He was all over you!” He moved back from her then, looked her directly in the eyes and then glanced down her body, his eyes caressing her curves.

“Deny you? What are you talking about?” she asked. “What have I ever denied you? I mean, I said no the first time you asked me to come with you, but I’ve said yes to everything else you’ve ever asked of me. I didn’t do anything wrong so don’t you dare be mad at me! I wanted to dance with you, but you wouldn’t dance with me!” she shouted at him.

“Rose, you walked away from me for no good reason.”

She stomped her foot. “I wanted to dance!”

“You didn’t even know that man. What if he’d been dangerous? What if he’d hurt you? What if I’d ended up having to take your body back to your mum because he was a psychopathic murderer?” he asked.

“But you were watching me. I know you were. I felt your eyes on me! You’re always watching me. I was safe. I’m always safe if you’re in the room,” she insisted.

“Are you, Rose? Are you really…always…safe?”

“Of course I am. You’d never, ever let anyone hurt me,” she said fiercely. “I trust you with my life.”

“You do?” he asked softening just a touch.

“Of course I do.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” The stark sadness in his voice jolted through her and she realized she’d done more than hurt his masculine pride.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, going off with John,” she said softly. “Let me make it up to you. What can I do? Anything you want, Doctor. You choose,” she told him with a gentle smile.

“Anything?” His voice dropped.

“I said so, didn’t I?” she asked impatiently.

“Absolutely anything?” His voice sounded strange now and she had a brief unsettled fluttering in her stomach.

“Yeah.”

“You trust me with your life. What else will you trust me with, Rose Tyler?” he asked.

“Everything,” she whispered.

Something flickered in his expression and then the Doctor’s hands rose to the bodice of her gown and with slow, measured movements he tore it open, buttons flying across the room, the tiny little cap sleeves tearing from her shoulders. His hands reached into the gown, sliding from her waist to the sides of her breasts, thumbs just barely brushing the front of her bra and she arched towards him involuntarily.

“Doctor?” she squeaked. How had she never noticed how big his hands were before, how much of her body he could cover with each one?

“You’re mine, Rose Tyler. From the moment you walked through that door. Did you really think this,” he hissed, “was something I was going to allow any other man,” his hands slid behind her and he casually flicked open the clasp of her bra, “to do to you?”

His breath was hot against her face and his eyes were full of desire as the fabric came free. He pushed it upwards, his eyes sinking down her body to look at what he’d just exposed to his darkened gaze. Her nipples hardened in the cool air or perhaps simply under his detailed scrutiny and it scared her to see how intently he watched, scared her that the Doctor she knew was suddenly gone and this heated stranger stood here in his stead.

“We were just dancing and talking. He wasn’t gonna do anything—wait—what?” she asked in shock, her mind and mouth catching up with what he’d said, what he was actually doing. “Yours? Do what to me?” Rose inhaled deeply, her chest heaving as she did so and she began to back away from him as she realized what he meant. He’d lost his reason. And for some reason she'd been unbelievably slow on the uptake.

“Oh, no, Rose,” he said advancing on her. “You said you’d do anything. I get to choose. I choose this. You’ve teased me far too long to back away from me now.”

“T--teased?” she managed. “Doctor, I haven’t been--.” Her words were cut off by the descent of his mouth, his lips taking hers with astonishing force. His hips pushed against her and she realized that the Doctor had an erection and it was full and hard against her stomach. If she’d ever had any doubts that he was fully male they vanished in an instant as her immediate reality suddenly reordered itself. Someone was moaning and she realized it was her.

His tongue plunged into her mouth and oh, he was kissing her within an inch of her life. Why was he kissing her and like this? He’d never given any indication before tonight that he’d wanted her like this. Never revealed even a hint of it. And now he was acting like a wronged lover. Her lover. With a suddenness so strong it took her breath away, she felt arousal sweep through her sex, felt her knickers dampen at the let down of her body’s preparation to receive him.

What the hell? They weren’t like this. They never had been. And her body was…receptive? Really, really receptive. That startled her even more than his actions did. They were friends. He was an alien. This was wrong. In so many ways, this was wrong. But oh, could he kiss. No one had ever kissed her like this. He was searing her, scorching her, until she wondered if there’d be anything left or if she’d just burn up in the power of him. What kind of lover would he be if this was how he kissed her? Would she survive it? Would she care if she didnt'?

She wrenched herself away from him, the thought shocking her, her breath coming in gasps as she stared at him wide-eyed, one hand rising to cover her bruised lips as she backed away from him and remembering her semi-nudity, the other hand pulled the tattered bodice up over herself. She’d flirted, of course she had, she wasn’t dead and he was nicely masculine, but up until this moment she’d been convinced that he didn’t think that way at all. Or couldn’t. About anyone. Ever. Yet, it was painfully obvious that he did. And about her.

“Doctor? Please.” Was she asking him to stop? Was she asking him to go on? She didn't even know.

His eyes cleared for just a moment and she could tell that his restraint in this matter was something he was fighting for. “You choose, Rose. Choose now,” he ordered in a raspy voice thick with desire. For her.

She looked at him critically for the first time, allowing herself to see what was really there, what she had never even let herself look for before now because he was an alien and quite a bit older than her and if she’d dared to even think he was sexy she’d never have been brave enough to run off with him in the first place. Rose stopped looking at him like an alien and saw him as a man. Just a man.

Her eyes trailed over his features, from the steel blue eyes with their look of blatant sexuality, to the aquiline nose, to the slender lips that had taken her own, back to the impressively high cheekbones so strong they could have cut glass. Her eyes skittered across his jaw line, up to his ears, then down the fine cords of his neck and along the skin that disappeared beyond the v-neck of his jumper. She wondered what it felt like to be as close to his skin as that particular article of clothing was, wanted to slide her hands underneath and find out.

Her eyes fell down the rest of his rangy, lithe body, the muscles of his chest taut and strong as they tapered to his waist and hips, then the long, thick lines of his powerful thighs encased in denim, down to his calves and feet then back up to rest on his hands with the long, callused fingers that held her hands so securely, so safely in his whenever she needed them. With a slight hesitation she allowed her eyes to skim across his groin and her heart stuttered at this most visible sign of his arousal. He wanted her. And he was willing to change everything between them to have her.

She licked her lips and then raised her eyes to his and he growled and advanced a step, then two. The sound rocketed through her. Oh, yes, if she was allowed to look, to need, to have, then this was very much what she wanted. Decision made and without further thought she dropped the torn bodice and let her bra fall down her arms to the floor, then closed a bit more of the distance between them, her fingers reaching for his then looking back and meeting his eyes despite her fear.

“I wasn’t teasing you,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you wanted me, Doctor. If I had done, if you’d ever said, if I’d looked--.” She wasn’t allowed to finish her sentence because he removed the remaining gap still between them, plastered himself to her body and stroked his tongue between her lips again, devouring her. His hands rested on her shoulders then slid their way down her arms to her wrists where he held each one immobile in his hands.

He nudged into her with his body, pushing her backwards, never letting up on the dance of his tongue against hers as she tried desperately to keep up with the frenetic pace he was setting. It was only a minute later that she realized he was herding her through the corridor and to the nearest room with a bed in it. His, as it turned out.

At the edge of his bed he released her wrists and ran one hand across her ribcage, down her belly to the skirt of her gown. His impatient hands twirled her around hard and yet another line of buttons went flying, the skirt and its accompanying petticoat were tugged quickly down and without a word or a glance for permission or approval he had hooked his fingers in the waistline of her knickers and dropped to his knees, pulling the garment down her long legs and off her body. She stepped out of them all and he removed the soft blue dancing slippers from her feet, rolled the black thigh length stockings down and off each leg and foot in turn, then turned her about again and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the soft curls of her sex, his tongue snaking out and pushing between the folds to tease lightly for a moment at her clitoris.

Rose let out a startled sound of pleasure and steadied herself by resting her hands on his shoulders. He pushed her until she sat on the edge of the bed and then put his hand on her chest and pushed until she lay back. He spread her thighs and knelt between them then licked from the inside of her right knee in little circles, gradually inching across the soft pale flesh and making her squirm as he approached his ultimate destination.

His hands pushed her thighs further apart and he ran his tongue along the join, just outside the folds of her sex on the inner sensitive skin hidden there. Rose’s hands came to his hair and she scraped her fingernails against his scalp, groaning at the torment of having him so close to where she wanted him, but still so far away. He did not touch her there again, only breathed against her for a moment, gathering control.

Rose nearly cried when he pulled away and moved to the inside of her left knee, only to repeat the same pattern of swirls as he nipped and sucked and tasted his way back up her thigh. She wondered if he were writing something with his tongue, spelling something out. When he met the join again she thought that finally he would focus on the folds at the apex and cried out in frustration when he instead rose to his feet and lay down beside her on the bed, pulling her fully onto it.

She reached for him then and again that almost feral noise issued from his throat as he grabbed her hands, brought them forcefully back down onto the bed, preventing her from touching him. He blew gently across her nipples, bringing each to a sharp, high peak. He moved half over her and ran one denim clad leg against her naked thigh, the rough fabric extremely erotic on her skin, the weight of his thigh and calf adding to the sensation of restraint.

“Doctor,” she managed before he moved fully on top of her, holding her down with his body and plundering her mouth. The leather of his jacket was cold and strangely erotic against her bare flesh, hanging down to enclose her on either side of her body, the metal of the zip giving her a little chill as it brushed against her breasts. She could feel her heart beating desperately in her chest like a caged, wild thing as he took her lips, her teeth, her tongue and made them his playground.

She wanted him to press his chest against her breasts, to hold her to him, but instead he held himself away from her, his mouth and his lower body the only points of contact. Rose whimpered against his possession, struggled that little bit to move her thighs from beneath him, felt him settle between them against her, his straining erection still fully encased in his jeans moving to rest against her sex.

He released her mouth, trailed hot kisses to her ear and down her neck before hovering above her again. His eyes were dark with lust, his nostrils flaring and he eased towards her again, but instead of kissing her, this time he was taking in her scent, sniffing against her neck, her shoulder, the underside of her breast, her armpit even, then back up again to look at her and realign his groin with hers.

It should have been unsettling, a man just smelling her, but it wasn’t. The way he did it was possessive and animalistic and turned her on in ways she’d not thought possible. Instead it shot another wave of arousal through her groin and if she’d still been wearing her knickers, she would have completely soaked them and as it was she did not have much hope for the condition of the mattress when this was over.

The Doctor’s reaction was almost immediate. He knew. She could tell by the way his nostrils flared and he immediately began working his way down her body, lingering just above her curls again, inhaling deeply, licking the length of her sex so quickly she let out a strangled noise, darting his tongue inside her entrance once, twice, three times before quickly nipping at her clit and moving back up, his tongue leaving a wet trail from navel to breasts before he raised his head to look her in the eyes. “You want me.” It wasn’t a question. She was beyond using words anyway.

“Lights low,” the Doctor growled and the lights dimmed so much she could barely see him. He pulled away from her and she heard him discarding his clothes, the leather jacket falling to the floor with a heavy thump, the boots thudding next, his jeans, his shirt and then he was back on her. “Lights level five,” he said again and they rose enough that she could make out his face. She felt his penis pressing strongly against her leg and wondered how they had gotten to this point, knowing that if she wanted out of this now was her last chance to speak up.

A tiny package appeared from nowhere, torn open by his teeth and then his fingers went to his erection and slipped on the protective latex. He did not prepare her. She was given no time to even see what he looked like, whether he was alien in shape or form or function, before she suddenly felt him as he thrust himself so quickly and so deeply within her that she cried out in sudden shock and a little pain that faded quickly. The Doctor stilled himself, sheathed in her to the hilt, his eyes finding hers as his arms strained to keep him from moving as he held himself above her.

There was no apology on his face, no hesitation, no attempt to free himself from her body or pull away because he’d hurt her with his entry. He was simply waiting, giving her time, now, to become accustomed to him. He was a little longer, a good bit thicker, but not ridiculously so, than the two men of her rather limited experience had been, from what she could tell in this position. And Mickey had been no slouch in that department. It had been the speed with which the Doctor had entered her that had hurt, the force, when she was used to gentleness. And he was hard, so much harder, missing the give, the springiness of a human male.

Rose took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “No,” he said. “Look at me. See me.” Her eyes flew back open. He gazed at her for a long moment, holding power over her while watching the dilation and contraction of her pupils as she met his eyes.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“I know,” he told her.

She searched his eyes, finding the predatory gleam lifting for just one moment, seeing the man she knew would never harm her, the man she trusted with everything, even with this, before he was gone and the primal look of ownership was back. It was enough, though. She raised her hips. He began to move.

Chapter Three: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/83615.html