Friday, April 6, 2012

A Cinna Lemon -- 1 AM

Character: Cinna

Fandom: The Hunger Games

OC: Kenzie Jameson, from District 1, fashion student and aspiring HG stylist

Inspiration: Working with Cinna

The workroom was silent, save for the soft snipping of scissors on fabric and the scribbling of a pencil on paper.  It was late into the night -- er, morning, past one, and the two stylists were busy making last minute changes to one of Cinna's most recent pieces.

The dress they were working on had been commissioned by a rich Capitol lady, which was why it looked rather flamboyant and odd.  It was a pastel green color, with bright yellow accents on the hem, skirt, and sleeves.  There were dashes of red intermingled with the yellow.  Overall, it looked like an easter egg gone wrong.  But it was work all the same, and Cinna couldn't turn down what few commissions he had. 

This week had been busier then he had expected, too.  Which was why he had called in his favorite student to help him finish the piece that had caused him so much grief during the past few weeks.

She had excelled in helping him, put him at ease with her peaceful humming, and made him realize that he had lost the passion he normally had in creating beautiful clothes.  Over the course of three days, Kenzie had helped him gain back that passion and they had done more with the dress than he had over two weeks.

She looked over at him.  He was bent over his sewing machine, eyes fixated on the delicate fabric beneath his fingertips.  His gaze was blurry and unfocused, though -- probably due to the lack of sleep they've had.  His shoulders hunched over in what looked to be an uncomfortable position.

She stopped her work to study him further, and noticed the overall unhealthy look about him.  He needed a break.  A very long break that would distract him from going back to that blasted machine.

"Cinna," she called, and he looked up momentarily before turning back to his work.  His answer was a muffled 'yes?' that she could barely hear.

She paused, wondering if she should just leave him alone.  But then when if he messed up due to his state of mind?  (She quickly ruled out the option that he ever would mess up, being the genius he was.)  "I could call up for some coffee if you want."  She suggested, but received only the shrug of his shoulders in response.  She sighed and walked toward him.

When she placed her hands on his shoulders, he seemed to realize that she was there.  His eyes became a little more focused and he glanced over at her in question.  But she only gave him a soft smile before beginning to work her fingers into his taut muscles.  If he wouldn't relax, then she'd make him.

He started to protest, but the feel of her warm grasp made him forget why he was protesting at all.  He had been feeling rather tightly wound as of late, and her touch felt so heavenly.

"You need a break," she told him, increasing the strength she was using.  He rolled his head back and sighed, eyes closing.  A soft, feeble agreement fell from his lips.

A wistful smile spread over Kenzie's face as she looked down at him.  His hands were resting on the arms of his chair, his body was leaned back, and his features were arranged peacefully.  For the first time all week, Kenzie thought he looked at ease.  It was all very endearing.

She paused in her massage to gently brush her fingertips over his cheekbones.  She had always appreciated his face.  It was so strong, so full of expression.  She supposed it was the artist in her that made her see him in such a way.

His eyes slid open slowly and he watched her watch him.  The light, airy way her fingers touched him could have put him to sleep had it not been for the desire keeping him awake.  He knew it went against all his morals to feel this way about his student, but who was she, really?  A woman, very beautiful, who was only a few years younger than him.  They weren't really all that different.

She locked her eyes with his and they just stared at each other.  The moments seemed to drag on in a soft silence, broken only by the odd blink of their eyes. 

When he began to rise from his seat, Kenzie was unsure of what he was doing.  She drew back, slightly surprised that he wasn't going back to work, and allowed him room to stand.  From this position, he was about a foot taller than she was.

His staring was making her dizzy.  The feeling only worsened when his fingers reached for her chin and he tilted it upward.  She couldn't help but stare at him as he walked towards her, shifting her eyes to meet his and opening her mouth in a silent plea.  He was making it so hard to diffuse the feelings she had built up for him. 

But apparently she didn't have to, because during the course of a moment he was only an inch apart, and his mouth was dawdling awfully close to hers.  He seemed to be giving her to decision to kiss him. 

She took the chance and did so, pressing her mouth against his in a soft, gentle caress.  The silkiness of his lips made her seem like she was falling, and only the strength of his arms as they wrapped around her grounded her to reality.

She realized how much she wanted this as he drew her closer.  They lips didn't move together; they danced.  And as they danced, their bodies shifted as well, spinning around and around until they were both laughing and tumbling down onto the cushioned surface of the couch.

She landed in his lap, face still precariously close to his.  The kiss had ended when they fell, but their breath was still heavy and intermingled, and the spark of their eyes were still strong.  That was probably what prompted her to kiss him again. 

He grunted lightly and tilted his head back as she crawled up his chest.  His elbows landed on either side of his face.  Her back was bent at a strange angle, like that of a cat's about to pounce.  But she already had pounced, and Cinna was feeling very much thankful for it.

Gravity had a way of controlling things, which was how Kenzie had managed to rest her body against his as their kiss grew more intense.  It was in that welcoming position that she felt the hardened bulge of his pants and knew that this distraction had gotten a little out of proportion.

But she couldn't just leave him like this, because it would do the exact opposite of helping his relax.  (And, she realized, she would probably curse herself over and over if she allowed herself to do such a thing.)  So she allowed herself to get comfortable and gingerly opened her mouth for him when his tongue brushed against her lips.

The feel of his tongue dragging against hers caught her off guard.  She pushed herself into a defensive position and they began a war that left her breathless and wanting.  The winner was not determined, because both had already turned their sights to other, more tempting things.

He caught her hips and ground her against him, showing her the extent of his passion.  His erection promised her that the next few hours would be spent surrendered to him.

Her fingers inched over him, tugging at his shirt and undoing the buttons.  When the fabric was pushed back and his skin was revealed to her hungry eyes, Kenzie leaned in to brush her mouth over him.  She felt him shiver when she brushed over his nipples. 

"You're hands are cold," he said offhandedly, and caught her wrists before she could lay them flat against him.  She gave him a pouting frown, which he returned with a suave grin.  "You're are warm," she told him, but they had both already forgotten about talking and were more interested in touching.

"Kiss me?" he wondered, giving her an inviting smirk.  She hummed and did so, molding their lips together as she hovered above him.  He didn't seem to mind the position, or the fact that she had full control of the situation.  She appreciated that.

Her nails dragged down his chest, finally free from his grasp.  He sighed into the kiss and shivered. 

Her touch twirled over him like water, spinning and dancing gracefully as he lost his breath.  He was panting and aching by the time she had even reached his pants a minute later. 

She palmed the bulge in his pants, keeping her eyes latched firmly on his face.  The smallest of touches seemed to take him over, and it turned her on more than she'd like to admit.  She spent little time teasing him now, because the aching in her lower body didn't permit it.

When his pants and boxers had fallen to the floor, Kenzie took her time in gazing at him.  It was hard not to touch him when he was so bare and submissive before her.  Slowly, like he was an old oil painting in a gallery, she brushed a touch over his leg, from his knee to his thigh.  She skimmed past his manhood, which was painfully risen from their actions, and swirled upward to dance around his belly button.  When he groaned in frustration, she felt herself smirk. 

So she eased his pain a little by lifting her shirt over her head and showing him the bra she was wearing.  His gaze immediately latched to her chest, and the intensity of his eyes made her shiver.  Slowly bringing her hands down her body, she reached behind her to deal with the offending garment.

But he stopped her before she could, sitting up in a sudden manner and murmuring, "Let me." 

His hands were gentle as he reached behind her to unclasp her bra.  His breath wavered over her, shallow and light.  As he tipped the cups of the bra up, the straps slid down her arms and the small movements sent dizzying waves of pleasure rolling through her.

He touched her chest for a moment that was entirely too short before moving down her abdomen to undo her pants.  She waited with baited breath as he did so, eyes halfway shut and feeling very much in need of him.  As her jeans slid over her hips, she leaned forward and pushed him back down, wriggling out of the fabric herself and tossing it aside along with the panties.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, eyes hinting his worry.  If this ruined their relationship, then he didn't want to go on…but then he realized that if they stopped now, their relationship would be skewed anyway.  He'd let her decide.

Fortunately for him, Kenzie wasn't having any qualms.  She nodded, hovering over him again as she positioned herself over his throbbing manhood, and slowly slid down onto it.

He grunted and shut his eyes before he realized that he wanted to see her when he took her.  His gaze jerked back to her face and he watched her changing expressions as she fully sheathed herself on his cock.  Her head tilted back and her eyes slid closed as her body adjusted to his length.  After a moment, her hips jerked forward and Cinna was left gasping at the immediate pleasure that came from the small movement.

Her hands rested on his chest as she sat above him, straddling his waist.  She leaned forward slightly to rock her hips with his, and he retaliated as best he could as they united.

The minutes slid by like seconds.  They rushed forward, delving into place neither had ever been.  Their names became mantras, spilling from their mouths every time they took in a lungful of air.  Hands locked together; lips snuck kisses while eyes stared delightfully into the others.  Their moans were intermingled as they breathed in each other's breath, stole each other's warmth, and shared each other's desire.

And then, when the feeling of being one skyrocketed them upward into new reality, they tilted they heads up to follow it and let go of each other, releasing all the passion, all the worry, all the stress and all the love that they had experienced during the past week and month and year.

His name rushed from her lips as her orgasm took her, crushing her against him and into his embrace.  His hips rammed upwards to catch her again, spiking into her numerous times as he came and milking himself clean.  When he had nothing left to give his hips had stopped their sporadic thrusts, they lay together in a panting, heaving, befuddled mess.  The hour slid by like the minutes spent interlocked, and by the time it was up, Kenzie still felt as though she were scrabbling against him and failing to possess a full breath of air.

"Perhaps we should get back to work," she suggested, but didn't really want to get up and leave his warm arms.

He didn't seem to want to, either.  Drawing her back into his chest, he breathed out and whispered a soft, caressing word: "Tomorrow."


1 comment: