6Note: This chapter is shorter than the previous two. Sorry about that. (Also, smut. Smutty smut smut.)
(And a friendly reminder that the Doctor [and all Gallifreyans] are canonically non-binary. I like to think the Doctor just goes with male pronouns because it's easier and because everyone assumes they're male anyway.)
Translations:
an Diabhal orm-sa!: bloody hell, fucking hell!
Chapter Three
The Doctor drew back, nodded wordlessly, and led her to the foot of his bed. Another kiss; then his mouth nuzzled just below her ear. "Turnabout's in fair play, you know," he murmured. "Touch me, Rose. Tease me. Please me."
Was he kidding? She might not be a virgin, but inexperienced was something she could call herself. A nervous hand ran down the valley of his chest, slowly south toward his erection. "I… I dunno how…" she whispered in his ear, fingers winding around his length. "You'll have t'show me what you want…" She pumped him once, agonizingly slowly. "Jimmy… he always just took me how he wanted me. I've never… pleased a man b'fore."
"But I'm not a man. In fact, I'm not even human." Even so, the Doctor's eyes closed and he shivered as she slowly pumped him. "Just—" His voice went slightly raspy; he swallowed hard and continued, "Just take your time, Rose. And do that again, if you would. Please."
He had a point… he wasn't human. But the hardened length in her hand spoke to his manly shape. She pumped him a second time… a third… learning the rhythm he liked as her thumb swooped over the tip and caught a bead of moisture. "Tell me how…" she whispered. "Tell me how you like it… what you want. I-I want t'please you as you've pleased me."
"Oh, I'd say you're doing just fine. But I—" He groaned, hands going to her waist in an effort to keep some semblance of control. "I want your mouth and hands running all over my body, touching, tasting, teasing; want to see your lips wrapped around me; want you to push me down onto the bed and ride me." He straightened, looked down at her with half-closed, nearly-black eyes. "Do what you want to me, Rose. I'm not him."
Feeling a bit braver, Rose wiggled closer, wrapping her legs around his waist so she could press her body into his own. He was cool to the touch, but warming gently as she worked him. She craned her neck, leaning up to latch onto his pulse point to begin suckling a small love bite there. The sound he made in response spurred her forward and before she knew it, she was showering his entire body with hot, open mouthed kisses, continuing to pump his length in a slow, even rhythm.
His hands went from holding her waist to sliding up her back when she moved closer. The Doctor tilted his head back to give her better access to his throat, gasped as she trailed hot kisses over his skin. "Oh yes that's it, Rose, please…"
Arousal burned through him, growing hotter with each stroke she made, every little touch. His hips shifted forward, seeking more contact, more friction, and he nearly growled in frustration. As good as it felt, her hand wasn't enough; he wanted her mouth on him, wanted to lie on his back and watch as she lowered herself onto him—but at the same time, he didn't want to rush her.
Rose was oblivious to what he wanted most, not being able to read his mind, nor hear his thoughts. She simply continued to work his throbbing, aching length with her hands. But she picked up speed, pumping him hard and chasing his release. Her mouth landed on one of his nipples and she used her teeth on the sensitive bud wondering if he would have a similar reaction to such things as she did.
He whined—actually whined—when he felt her mouth and teeth on his nipple; his nails dug reflexively into her back. "An Diabhal orm-sa!" he hissed, switching from English to Scottish Gaelic without thinking. His body shuddered; if she kept this up, he was afraid his respiratory bypass would engage. "Rose…"
His release was creeping up on him; he could feel it at the base of his spine—but he didn't want to come, not yet.
"I'm close, Rose," he warned her. His hands found her shoulders, applied slight pressure. "Want you on your knees, need you tasting me. Now. Please. …"
Rose responded instantly, dropping to her knees before him and taking his length in her mouth. This she knew! This she knew very well. Jimmy had essentially made her an expert in this sort of pleasure. Only he'd never give back once he was done with her.
But it didn't matter in that moment. She felt his need, his desperation and knew exactly how to bring him to an end. Her tongue worked his length in swirls as her cheeks hollowed and she sucked… hard! Her hands came around to grip his bum, nails digging into his flesh. As the tip hit her soft palate, she swallowed, massaging him with her throat muscles alone. Her pace on him was bruising, burning, passionate. She wanted to make him cum harder than he ever had in his life! And she wanted to swallow every drop of it.
The Doctor's fingers twisted in her hair when she sank to her knees before him; he growled deep in his throat as she worked him with her tongue; his head hung forward, dark eyes fixed on the sight of her lips wrapped around his cock.
His hips shifted forward slightly when her nails dug into the flesh of his bum; then he forced himself to stay still, low growl rising to a snarl as he felt her throat muscles massaging him. It wasn't long before his snarl turned into a stream of curses and incoherent noises, not with the relentless pace she was setting. (He wasn't even sure which language he was speaking.)
The coil low in his abdomen tightened, snapped. His grip on her hair turned vice-like; his jaw clamped shut, teeth narrowly missing biting his tongue; pleasure tore through him as he fell over the edge, her name a hoarse cry in his mind.
His body was shivering when he finally, finally came down from his climax—though he'd yet to soften in her mouth. (Time Lord, a little voice reminded him—he could control that sort of thing, as well as any other part of his anatomy.)
(He didn't bother snapping back at it.)
Rose relaxed her throat and let him spill into her, swallowing every drop he offered as if it were water in the desert. She watched him with wide amber eyes as he climaxed and rode the waves of pleasure.
She'd done that. She'd brought him to that state. All on her own.
Slowly pulling him out of her mouth she flexed her tired jaw a bit before slipping back up to sit on the foot of the bed. "Come lay down with me," she murmured, holding out her hands to him.
The Doctor said nothing as he accepted her invitation and joined her on the bed. (Is this another part of human mating rituals? he wondered vaguely. Yes, he'd picked up something about sex from traveling with so many humans over the years and various literature, but somehow he'd never really learned much about what happened afterward. And his previous incarnations had never had much in the way of a sex drive, anyway. He hadn't started experiencing that until his eighth incarnation.)
Rose tucked her head under his chin and wrapped an arm around his middle, tangling their legs together as she sighed in contentment. She just rested in his arms without a word for a long moment.
"I never get snuggles after…" she whispered.
"Never?" His eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Well, then, Rose Tyler"—he slid one arm around her waist, resisted the urge to move even closer (if possible) to her—"we'll have to make this a daily occurrence, won't we?"
The Doctor dropped a kiss to the top of her head, discreetly inhaled her scent. In the back of his mind he could sense the TARDIS chastising him, reminding him that this wasn't going to last and he only had a few months with her at most. He snarled wordlessly at his Ship in response and slightly tightened his grip around his human lover.
He'd make it last for however long he wanted to, consequences to both their timelines be damned.
(There was also Jimmy Stone's body to dispose of, but he could take care of that once Rose fell asleep.)
It did not take long for the young woman to drift off, actually feeling warm and secure in his arms. It didn't matter that his body temperature was colder than that of her own. Wrapped up like this, she felt cared for… even perhaps cherished. It was not something she knew.
As soon as he was certain Rose was asleep, the Doctor slipped away from the bed, pulled on his clothes, and padded across the floor to the door. He stepped out into the hallway and made his way to the console room, stopping on the way to grab some… necessary items.
Then he was out the door and heading to the alley where they'd left Jimmy Stone's body.
-x-x-x-
It took more time than he would have liked to dismember the corpse and stuff the pieces into garbage bags, but he was nothing if not surgically precise and meticulous. Besides, he wasn't human. To him, it was more like taking apart a deer or pheasant or whatever else it was that humans hunted for food.
Not that he had any desire to eat this particular human. Besides, he had a feeling that Rose would frown upon his… rather particular palate—to say nothing of his other activities.
When the job was finished, he carried the loaded bags back to his Ship and disposed of them in what was left of the Eye of Harmony. After taking the time to wash away the blood from his skin and clothes, he returned to where Rose was asleep in his bed, slipped under the covers, and wrapped one arm around her while he curled his body around hers.
Mine, he growled silently, possessively, directing the thought to both the TARDIS and the universe at large. He dipped his nose to the curve of her neck, breathed in her scent. She. Is. Mine.
He wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually he closed his eyes and gave in to his body's demands.
Even Time Lords needed sleep, after all.
