Stardust

No Return
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: The nights were spent in each other’s arms, forgetting that the world existed. Sawyer/Kate. 1283 words.

Notes: Sawyer. How I love that man. Feedback will be welcomed with open arms and given cookies.

—

It would always start with a kiss.

She would sneak away from camp and find him leaned against a tree or sitting on a boulder. His arms were always crossed and his shirt was usually open, and he would be gazing out at the ocean with something deep and lonely in his eyes. That look would disappear when she stopped at his side, replaced by his usual sly smile, and he would always take her by the hand and pull her against his body. She always closed her eyes, but she knew that he kept his open until the last second before his lips touched hers, the bristle of his beard grazing her chin.

This time was no different; that first kiss was sweeter than she would have thought he was capable of giving. But when she parted her lips against his, sighing, he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue against hers.

The first time she slept with him had been a moment of utter weakness. She had been tired and lonely and scared, and he had kissed her so sweetly. For that moment, she could imagine that she wasn’t trapped in her self-imposed solitude. She wasn’t the only outcast on this godforsaken island. They had writhed in each other’s arms, and for that moment, they weren’t alone.

The next day, things were back to normal, as normal as things could be. He was his usual sarcastic self, and she hovered around the outskirts of their little village, wanting to belong.

She told herself it wouldn’t happen again, but three days later, she was back in his arms. After a couple of weeks, they had fallen into a routine; days were occupied by a wary acknowledgement of each other, and nights were spent in each other’s arms, forgetting that the world existed.

Her hands slipped into his open shirt, and she pressed her palms against the hard muscles of his chest. He always moaned when she touched him, soft little pleading sounds in the back of his throat. Those sounds killed her, and she slid her hands over his shoulders, pushing the shirt off and pressing the full length of her body against his.

He felt so good against her; every inch of him was hard and tense with desire, and she rubbed against him like a cat. He broke their kiss just long enough to pull her tank top over her head, and then captured her lips again, sinking his teeth lightly into her bottom lip.

She didn’t love him. She liked him, but she didn’t think she was capable of loving him, or anyone for that matter. She didn’t love him, but she loved the feel of his hands on her, unhooking her bra and smoothing over her naked back. She loved the scrape of his stubble on her neck as he licked at her pulse. She loved how his hips would thrust against hers, an unconscious movement, when she pressed her breasts against him. She loved the way he could undress her without breaking their kiss, leaving her naked and wanting.

They sank down to their knees in one smooth motion, his mouth traveling down her throat to suck at her nipples. He could drive her mad with his mouth; he teased her nipples until she was gasping before pushing her onto her back and sliding his tongue down her stomach. He buried his face between her legs, licking and sucking until she came, pressing her own hand against her mouth to keep from crying out too loudly.

He looked at her then, looked long and hard from between her thighs with an inscrutable expression on his face. His blond hair was draped over his cheeks, falling into his pretty grey eyes, and she shivered involuntarily. He had never looked at her like that before, and she felt stirrings of something she knew she wasn’t ready to feel.

To break the spell, she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him on top of her. He kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and settling between her open legs. His blue jeans rubbed against her sensitized skin, making her gasp and shudder against him.

She never thought about why she wanted him so much. She told herself it was physical attraction, plain and simple, and left it at that. Even then, she knew she was lying to herself, but examining her own motivations was too painful, and trying to figure out his was too difficult. She left it at physical attraction, and that attraction was strong.

Squeezing her hands between their bodies, she pulled the button loose and tugged the zipper down, pushing his jeans down over his hips. They were usually too desperate for each other’s bodies by this time to actually remove his pants; they had only made love completely naked three times. His cock was hard in her hands, and he moaned deeply, his breathing suddenly ragged.

She arched her back, closing her eyes, and he shifted his hips, their bodies moving instinctively together until the head of his erection was pressed against her opening. He paused when she expected him to thrust, and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her. Her stomach flipped when he threaded his fingers in her hair; she wanted to slap her hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking. But he didn’t speak; he just kissed her lips gently, almost reverently, and pushed inside of her.

Her head fell back against the sandy ground, a cry caught in her throat. Nothing compared to that moment, to the feel of him inside her, filling her perfectly. He always held still for a long moment with his face pressed against her hair, his heart hammering against her chest. She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers in to hide the trembling.

He rolled his hips against her, and she couldn’t help crying out at the slow drag and pull. His hips rolled slow and lazy, like swells spending themselves on the beach. He drove her mad with that easy rhythm, keeping it up until she was gasping and begging for more, harder, faster.

Bracing himself with one arm, he willingly obliged, thrusting harder and faster. She loved it when he kissed her then, little teasing glances from his lips. Dragging her lips away from his, she licked at the soft skin under his ear, sinking her teeth into his neck, smiling secretly when he let loose a hoarse cry.

They were passing the point of no return; she knew by the sudden raggedness of his thrusts and the coiling pleasure in her own body. He knew it, too, and pushed his cock deep inside of her, grinding against her clit. The coiling pleasure unwound suddenly, wracking her body, and she screamed his name, sobbing against his skin. A few more hard, uneven thrusts and he came inside of her, moaning desperately, her name a prayer on his lips.

He had never held her before that night. He always used to kiss her lips and draw away from her, leading her to the water so they could clean up, but that night, he held her tight for a long time. She closed her eyes and wrapped herself around him, surrendering to his kisses and his touches, and for a while, she wasn’t alone.

She didn’t know if the next day would be the same as the days before. She didn’t know if it was even possible to go back to that feigned casualness they seemed to depend on. But for that moment, she didn’t care.

end

Like
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Sawyer likes Kate, and he hates her, but most of all, he wants her. 409 words.

Notes: First Lost fic. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

–

Sawyer liked her. He couldn’t help himself; he’d tried telling himself that she was a little know-it-all bitch, a cocktease, as much of a liar as he was, and while he knew she was all three, he still liked her.

Well, maybe ‘like’ wasn’t exactly the right word.

He liked her well enough, liked to tease and prod and get a rise out of her, piss her off until pink spots rose on those pale cheeks. He thought that he might even like having real, honest-to-God conversations with her, if she’d get off her high horse. But he liked watching her. He liked watching her hips swing when she walked. He liked the curve of her breasts and the curl of her hair. He especially liked the sight of long, bare legs underneath those tiny black panties and that tank top clinging to her wet body.

He liked her well enough, but he fucking wanted her.

He wanted to taste her mouth again. He wanted her on her back underneath him, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs, her fingers scrabbling in the sand. He wanted to spread his hands over her breasts and admire the contrast between his tan and her pale. He wanted to know if she was loud or quiet while she was being fucked. He imagined that she’d force herself to be quiet, biting her lip until he made her come. She’d scream his name then, coming hard around his cock, and he’d pound into her, listening to those quiet little gasps, until he came with his face buried in her pretty dark hair.

She was bitchy and condescending, and oh, she’d seen everything there is to see in the world, and she had pity on him, fucking pity. He hated to see her flirt with the doc. He hated that oh-so-compassionate look she got when she looked at him. He liked her and he hated her and, most of all, he wanted her.

Sawyer scrubbed his face with his hands, making a frustrated noise.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up to see Kate standing over him, her hands on her hips and a pale slash of skin peeking out from between her shirt and pants, that vaguely pitying look set on her features.

“I’d be fine, freckles, if you’d get out of my light. How’m I gonna get a tan when you’re blocking the sun?”

She scowled at him and walked off.

end