TITLE: Next to Godliness
FANDOM: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
RATING: Adult
SPOILERS: Everything from the first season.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Don't know who does.
CHARACTERS: Sarah Connor/Derek Reese
SUMMARY: But for all his persnickety, clean-freak
ways, there was one thing Derek Reese preferred dirty..
***
Sarah really hated to use the term metrosexual in conjunction with a time
traveling tunnel rat of a soldier, but there it was. Okay, well maybe Derek
wasn't textbook metrosexual. His clothing benefited almost solely from his
remarkable physical form and not from any inherent sense of style or fashion
acumen. But he certainly embraced the early twenty-first century's standards
for personal grooming.
Derek Reese was compulsively fastidious. Scalding hot showers, half-hour
tooth brushing sessions. He procured hand sanitizer in bulk and went through
footwear at a rate that would put Imelda Marcos to shame. (Not that Derek
knew who Imelda Marcos was.) His teeth had been Crest Whitestripped within
an inch of their little enamel covered lives and though Sarah couldn't prove
it, she seriously suspected his eyebrows had been waxed. She had no idea where
he found the time – or money.
Derek washed his sheets twice a week. He got his hair trimmed every other
Tuesday (Provided they weren't busy say …oh, saving the world). Sarah
supposed that of all the psychological pathology someone who lived through
the apocalypse might display, it could have been worse. She hadn't caught
him cutting the neighbors' pets into little pieces or joining the Church
of Scientology. Yet.
But for all his persnickety, clean-freak ways, there was one thing Derek
Reese preferred dirty.
Sex.
The dirtier, the better.
Sarah mentioned condoms that first time – to prevent disease, not pregnancy,
she took that option off the table years ago. The look of disgust on his
face would have been comical if she hadn’t been so damn horny at the time.
At first she thought it was the typical guy thing, he didn’t like the sensations
dulled. She quickly learned that was not the issue. Derek liked body
fluids, cum, sweat, tears, blood, all of it. The more visceral or animalistic,
the better. It was pure physicality.
Having sex with Derek could never be confused with making love. There was
no love in anything they did to one another. It was strictly about getting
off. Derek was all teeth and tongue and fingers and cock. There was no heart.
Not his. Not hers. But that didn't make it any less enjoyable. In fact, for
Sarah, it was a perk. She hated it when her partners wanted to cuddle after
sex, when they looked at her with those puppydog eyes, begging her to love
them, to stay, to build a home. Her only chance at that died with Kyle. Nothing
and no one could make her try again. And with Derek, she didn’t have to pretend
otherwise.
Derek didn't want domesticity or happily ever after. He knew the apocalypse
loomed. He wanted her to come, to take his cock like a pro and to ride him
like they could both be dead tomorrow. All of those requests she was perfectly
willing and able to accommodate. It didn't hurt that Derek also ate pussy
like a starving man.
Sarah groaned, thrusting her hips harder against his mouth. Derek complied
eagerly, sucking her clit between his teeth while two of his fingers plunged
in and out of her tight heat. She ground her teeth together, her breath catching
as she saw fireworks behind her eyelids. Derek dragged it out, sucking harder
on her clit, pressing his fingers ever deeper, wringing every sensation from
her orgasm.
She finally collapsed limply onto the mattress, chest heaving. That was the
third orgasm of the night. Fuck, he was good. Women who said they lost count
were lying. Sarah always kept score. So far Derek came once to her three.
Kneeling on the floor at the foot of her bed, he had one of her legs draped
over his shoulder. He slid his fingers out of her, then looked into her eyes
as he licked his digits clean. Sarah smirked. She knew he was waiting patiently
for his turn. She knew he’d make the wait worth it for both of them.
He leaned forward, pressing kisses to her inner thigh. Gently, he grasped
her hips and rocked her pelvis backward, curling Sarah in on herself. She
took a deep breath, knowing exactly what he wanted. He continued to lick
and kiss her thighs, moving ever lower. Her breath caught the second he started
rimming her. He was gentle, always gentle. Derek may have had special requests,
but he was always very considerate. That was good. Because if he hadn't been,
Sarah might have killed him by now.
Blindly, Sarah fumbled on the nightstand. Finding the lube, she tossed it
at Derek. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Ready?"
"Do it."
She scooted up on the bed, making room for him. He reached over, grabbing
one of the pillows. Folding it in half, he wedged it under her hips. She
pulled her knees back toward her chest, watching as he knelt on the bed between
her legs. Opening the lube, he liberally applied it to his hard cock as well
as her puckered opening. Fuck. He was hung like a goddamn horse. This was
always a challenge.
One hand on her hip, the other on his cock, he pressed against her tightness,
nudging inside. She hissed, willing herself to relax as he slowly pushed forward.
He stilled, giving her a moment. Her breathing was shallow. Though she knew
it would be well worth it soon, right now it hurt like a bitch. She also
knew the fact that it hurt was a turn-on for him. Not that Derek was a sadist.
He wasn’t. (Though she was fairly convinced he was completely psycho.) However,
the fact that she willingly submitted to something uncomfortable for his
pleasure really got him off.
Biting down on her bottom lip, she nodded. He pressed forward again and she
groaned, but he didn’t stop. By the time he was completely buried in her,
she was panting open mouthed.
“Fuck, Sarah,” he hissed, holding himself still.
“Do it,” she said, her voice low and harsh. “Fuck me.”
He shivered with pleasure and nodded. Slowly, he withdrew and then slowly,
he pushed back. She groaned again, concentrating on relaxing. His fingers
found her clit, his thumb circling the bud, massaging her as he stroked in
and out.
She was covered in sweat, panting as the sexual tension steadily built in
her body with every rub of his fingers, every stroke of his cock. She felt
both incredibly empty and full to the point of breaking. Fuck. He was so
big, so hard. Nothing hurt anymore. She just wanted more.
As much as she could in her position, she thrust back against him, grunting
out, “Harder.”
He eagerly obliged, driving into her so fervently his hips smacked against
her ass. Her breath caught and she keened, her hand covering his, rubbing
her clit harder, harder. With a strangled cry, she came, muscles cording,
clamping down on him hard. With a shuddering groan, he came too, spilling
inside her.
He collapsed forward, cock still buried in her ass, one hand braced against
the mattress to support him. They were both panting. Derek recovered first,
leaning down to run his tongue along the sweat-salty column of her neck.
Carefully, he extricated himself and pushed himself off the bed. He held
a hand out to her in invitation. “Shower?”
***
End Section
***
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