Fayth (faythbrady) wrote,
Fayth
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Fic- Games of the Orally Fixated 9/9

Title- Games of the Orally Fixated part 9/9
Author- Faythbrady
Show/ Ship= Doctor Who. Ten/Rose
Rating- NC-17
Disclamier- I held Nicholas Courtney's hand. Pretty much own the universe right now.
Summary- Finally one of them gives in. Guess who?

Games 9


The human race had some really amazing sayings: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, letting the cat out of the bag, nose to the grindstone-- really, they were genius-- and the Doctor had always found them to be the height of adorableness.

He'd even, way back when, tried to introduce some of them to Gallifrey during his brief stint as President; it had gone down as well as a lead balloon, but still, he had tried.

One saying he had always loved was the well known- in the doghouse.

However the reality was very very different from the word picture conjured up.

The Doctor was indeed, in the doghouse. And, it seemed, with more than one person.

He stood uneasily at the controls, his hair damp against his neck and body still slightly chilled from his second cold shower.

Rose stood behind him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes blazing, foot tapping and doing an alarmingly good impression of Jackie Tyler pre-slapping mode.

“Well?” she snapped.

He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably as a droplet of water slid off his hair and snaked down his spine, an icy finger drawing his attention to the danger inherent here.

Like he needed to be reminded.

Ten minutes ago he'd been naked and aware, lying on top of a very willing and very warm Rose Tyler. It was exactly... almost exactly... what he'd pictured for months and he'd been about to lean down, throw caution to the wind and just give in the undeniable attraction and need that pulsated between them.

His lips hovered above hers, she'd inhaled sending a cool rush of air over his over-sensitized skin and his own eyes had drifted closed to better luxuriate in the taste he'd so desperately wanted for so long.

But even as his eyes drifted shut his mind, ever alert, reminded him that the TARDIS had just tumbled in mid-flight. It recalled him to the fact that he'd seen the mauve alert flash and heard the cloister bell and that had to mean that something was wrong with the TARDIS.

Despite his fantasies, despite his desires and wants and needs (and oh Rassilon did he need) there was no good shagging Rose Tyler senseless if seconds later they crash landed and were torn apart by wild beavers.

So he'd backed away babbling and trying to regain his senses only to have them blown to pieces by the pure unadulterated fury on Rose's face.

And then of course she'd ripped off her shirt and thrown it at him.

He'd momentarily been treated to a view of blue satin brassiere full of soft succulent Rose, only to have a face full of damp cloth and a slammed door echoing in his ears.

So he'd done what any self respecting Time Lord would do.

He'd legged it back for another shower and to take care of his 'problem' so that he could concentrate on his magnificently badly timed ship before taking care of his magnificently angry companion.

Only to find... this.

Rose's foot was tapping harder against the grating, her anger a very real thing in the room and the Doctor found himself almost cringing.

He straightened his back.

“Uh, well, there appears to be no malfunction of the temporal, spacial, or geothermic regulat--”

“Stop with the techno ramble,” Rose interrupted. “I'm blonde, I'm not stupid. You're stalling for time. What. is. Wrong?” She enunciated each and every word.

He sagged. She could always see right through him.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he held up his hands to encompass the whole console. “I've run every test there is. There is nothing out there causing an attack or collision. We've landed but it's all perfectly normal and safe, gravity, oxygen levels even the time period and planetary system. There's nothing on the scanners. There's no interference. Life support, time distortion; nothing. Everything is functioning normally.”

“So what was with the tuck and roll?”

He shrugged. “No idea. And,” he took a deep breath, “she's not telling.”

“What?”

The Doctor rubbed at his forehead. “Normally when she's had to engage evasive manoeuvres or sounded warning sirens she keeps a log. Just in case it turns out to be life-threatening she can send a distress and have a record of the threat but there's no log. No record. It's like nothing happened.”

Rose snorted. “Gee, I wonder what that's like.”

Ah sarcasm.

He took another deep breath. “You know, Rose--”

“So what are we gonna do then?” Rose gestured towards the doors. “Are we going to check it out and see if there's anything that made her go all weird?” Her voice drops to that low sarcastic drawl that makes his shoulder blades itch. “Or are you going to stay in here and play with your sonic?”

He eyed her. Now that he knew that there is nothing wrong with the TARDIS he could, theoretically, take up where they left off.

He could reach over and tug her to him, let his hands drift down her arms until his fingers linked with hers and then he could pull her in for their first non-psychograft kiss.

He could also get slapped for being a presumptuous ingrate and he really didn't want Rose to hit him.

Well...

No, not like that anyway.

He plastered a grin on his face. “Oh, Rose, you'll love this planet. Obron 6 is the best and friendliest planet is the Custer System. Brilliant festival of Tulips the size of golf carts. Everyone dresses up in bright colours and goes around sniffing each other. Brilliant!”

If he'd hoped to sway her mood more to his liking or more to the possible mood of seduction he was without luck.

“Friendly planet?” She asked.

“Yep!” He popped his 'p' happily.

“We'll be perfectly safe?”

“Yep.”

“No war, famine, degradation, slavery, poverty, insane dictators, sentient shrubbery or amoeba with delusions of grandeur?”

A beat.

“Uh, nope?”

Rose sagged. “I'll get my running shoes.”

She walked back into the TARDIS and the Doctor grinned happily.

“You won't regret this, Rose.”

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“Probably,” he admitted, “should have said 'probably' won't regret this.”

He stared around the little prison cell. “Still it's a much nicer cell that we've been in before. I mean, do you remember the one on Justicia? And on Blehnem Rigel Terrip? That one had things growing on the things growing in the ceiling. Oh and the dungeon on Pontoon's fourth Moon was disgusting. Herri was nice, though. The cells were bigger. And Earth has had some pretty nice jails. Do you remember the ones in the Tower that time, Rose? Rose?”

He turned away from inspecting the door to find Rose sat on the single bed with her feet up on a pink plush pillow munching on an apple and reading a book.

His words failed and he stared at her. “Wha--?”

She ignored him, turning over a page in her book and taking a huge bite from her apple.

“Where did you get that from?” he gaped. “Apples aren't indigenous to this planet.”

“Brought it with me,” she said, eyes on her book.

He frowned. Rose was wearing jeans and a tight tank top, It was form fitting and slinky and distracting and had a distinct lack of pockets. There was nowhere that she could have put an apple without him knowing, much less a book and pillow.

He leaned against the cell door and just watched her.

He was still in the doghouse and Rose was letting it be clear that she wasn't going to let up any time soon.

Okay, he'd been teasing her and slowly, ohsoslowly, seducing her for months and maybe it was way past time to put his money where his mouth was, but he was so scared of losing her. That was why he'd been pushing for her to make the first move, that way he was certain that it was what she wanted and not just his projections.

But it seemed he had gone too far and Rose, his Rose, had enough of his being a tease and was withdrawing from him.

She'd refused to take his hand as they left the TARDIS and hadn't laughed at any of his jokes as they wandered around the festival. She hadn't shown much of an interest in his offers to buy her dinner or trinkets and she'd replied with abject scorn when he asked if there was anything wrong. In fact her expression had been a direct copyright violation of his ninth self's 'stupid ape' look.

He was beginning to think that she'd never forgive him when they found themselves surrounded by the local inhabitants and frog-marched to the dungeon. The Doctor was incredulous demanding on what right they had to imprison them, they weren't doing anything wrong.

To which the jailer pointed out that he had identified himself as the Doctor who was wanted for several counts of arson, revolution and sedition and that, although he didn't look like the man who had single-handedly destroyed the Civic Court and freed the slaves (thus sending the planet into a financial freefall for several decades), having proclaimed his name as one of the most hated men on the planet meant that they had to hold him for a day.

The jailer was apologetic and said that he was sure this was all a misunderstanding and would be sorted out with having to resort to the methods of torture that were said to be awaiting the return of the blaggard.

The Doctor smiled wanly and agreed that really, when disembowelling was taken into consideration, one night in a cell wasn't too bad.

He shot Rose another grin but she was seemingly engrossed in her book and not paying any attention at all to his inner musings and internal angst.

Which wasn't fair at all.

When they were usually in a cell together Rose would cheer him up as they both plotted to escape.
...the fact that there was a 'usually' in that sentence didn't say much for his charge of keeping her safe, something he wasn't keen to tell Jackie.

Still it was routine that when they were trapped in a cell he'd pace and talk and plot escapes and Rose would smile and laugh and tease and not sit there reading a book and ignoring him.

He huffed and folded his arms, staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

Nothing.

With a heavy sigh he let himself slide down the wall he was currently propping up until he was sat on the cold dank floor of the dungeon. He leaned his head on his knees, a picture of weary surrender and sent surreptitious glances at her through his hair.

Rose calmly turned a page.

He pouted. “So, looks like we're trapped,” he said loudly.

Rose ignored him.

“Really trapped,” he offered, “no way out, no chance of escape.”

She finished her apple and tossed the core into the small pail that they had been given to serve as bathroom. He followed it with his eyes inwardly noting what a great shot Rose was before registering that she hadn't answered him at all.

Surely she wasn't still mad at him?

“So what can we do to pass the time?” The words purred out of his mouth before his brain could get in gear and he winced as her fingers stilled on the page.

Her back stiffened and she said, with the utmost calm and the slightest amount of bitterness. “Why don't you go resonate concrete?”

Ouch.

He sank his head back against the wall.

Yep, still mad. Wow, could she hold a grudge and to be honest, which he was, she sort of maybe had a point.

He opened his mouth to speak, to say some magic words to make her forgive him and make everything better but before the magic words (which he had no idea what they would be) could emerge, the door to the jail swung open and the guard walked in.

The Doctor sprang to his feet. “Aha here to release us are you? Great stuff, brilliant. I knew that there was some mistake.”

The guard shuffled his feet. “Not really, uh, we found the Blue Box.”

The Doctor's face fell. “What?”

“Uh, the Blue Box as heralded in all of the warnings. We found it. Which means you are the infidel and will be executed tomorrow.” The guard looked embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” the Doctor squeaked.

“Well, not all of us were for the slavery,” the guard muttered, “and some of us get paid better now that the Civic Court is no longer handing payouts.”

“So I did you a favour,” the Doctor said somewhat desperately.

“Yeah. But a job's a job and in this climate you've got to do as you're told. Sorry.” The guard shuffled his feet once more and headed for the door. “I'll make sure you get a good breakfast though.”

The Doctor gaped at the door as the guard left the jail. “Did you hear that Rose? We're going to be executed tomorrow but at least we'll be full! Blimey, do a planet a favour and overturn a vicious corrupt system and they want to execute you for it. Gratitude! At least he was apologetic about it. Which makes a change I suppose. But enough of that!” He beamed. “Now we have to try to escape for real. I mean I was only messing about before about trapped, how can I be trapped when I have my trusty sonic, my trusty brain and my trusty compan- guh,”

He had turned half-way through his speech to Rose to see if she appreciated his magnificent upbeat attitude only to find that she had, again, pulled something to eat out of mid-air.

A cupcake.

With icing.

And...and...

“A-a,” he cleared his throat, “are those edible ball bearings?”

“Yes,” Rose said as she crunched one under her teeth.

Her perfect pink lips parted and her little tongue darted out to give a little kitten lick at the corner of the cupcake and every single ounce of intelligence that the Doctor had ever possessed went flying out of the heavily barred window.

Rose sat with her back against the wall, legs up on that damned pink pillow (where did that thing come from?), one hand absently stroking the edge of her book and the other holding that delicious confectionery to her mouth. Her eyes were intent on her reading and almost unconsciously her tongue flickered out again, this time curling gently around a silver ball bearing and tugging it into her mouth.

The Doctor held his breath, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he waited...

Rose sucked her cheeks in as she consumed the sugary icing, her eyes fluttering in pleasure at the rush of endorphins and taste of sweet vanilla flavour.

The Doctor swallowed hard.

And then the tiny little silver ball appeared between her teeth. She bit down and with an audible crunch the little ball was decimated.

The Doctor groaned out loud and Rose looked up.

“What?” she said.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

Her expression was dubious but she went back to her book, eyes flickering over the pages and her hand once again stroking the fold between the pages. Back and forth with slow languorous strokes, her nails scraping slightly over the spine as her long fingers trailed like a lovers kiss over the soft sheets of white.

She nibbled on the edge of her cupcake, lips pursing and teeth flashing in the dimming light, flakes of moist cupcake sticking to her lips only to be swept away and into her mouth by a quick flick of her tongue.

During his 900 years many people had tried to seduce the Doctor; companions, enemies, even one very very confused family member; but up until this moment he had deemed himself unseduce-able.

Now one tiny human girl was unravelling him at high speed. All he could do was stare and all he could think about was how much he longed to be a cupcake.

Rose bit into another ball bearing and something inside the Doctor snapped.

“Ok, fine. You win!”

Rose looked up at the sudden burst. “What?”

“You win!” He enunciated. “I forfeit, fold, yield, give in. Done, dusted, finito.”

Rose licked her lower lip thoughtfully and then sighed. “What are you on about now?”

His jaw actually dropped.

What was he on about? How...what...how could she not know?

How could Rose not tell that he was wound up tighter than spring-loaded clockwork droid and within seconds of spontaneously imploding with lust? How was she not aware that all he wanted at this very moment was to throw her down on that, frankly unhygienic, single grey mattress and not let her up until her lungs ached from screaming his name? How could she not know that his fingers ached to trace her every line and curve and his oral fixation left him salivating at the chance to finally taste those secret spots that he'd been dreaming about? How could she be so oblivious?

“Wha-- how-- wh--”

She rolled her eyes. “You planning in finishing a word any time soon, Doctor?”

Rose lifted the cupcake to her mouth again, seemingly finished with their argument, but the Doctor was having none of it.

In one stride he was across the room, his hands on her arms, hauling her off the bed and to her feet, the book she was reading hitting the floor with a dull thud.

With a startled squeak Rose was yanked flush against the Doctor, stomach, thighs and chest pressed together. She could feel his double heartbeat pounding against her breasts, his heavy breaths pushing at her chest and the fire in his eyes so very close to her own.

His hands held hers prisoner at her sides, his arms locked with tension and Rose was held captive by his strength.

With eyes locked intently on her own, he lifted her left hand and brought the cupcake up.

“You,” he said deliberately, “need to share.”

Rose gasped, heat pooling low in her belly. The Doctor lowered his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers as he tugged her hand closer to his mouth.

The lowered angle of his head made him appear so much more dangerous, the fading daylight casting sinister shadows on his face. Her knees felt weak and her toes curled inside her shoes as waves of need poured off her, something instinctive replying to the aura he was giving off.

Something primitive, primal and savage just begging to be unleashed.

His mouth opened slightly and she could feel the warm heat of his breath against her fingertips as he brought his lips around the edge of her cupcake.

Frosted icing smeared his upper lip, his tongue snaking out to swipe slowly across the top of the confection, snatching the decorations off the top.

Rose had once seen a slow motion film of a panther leaping out of the under-bush and casually snatching its prey, hauling it back to it's lair without even the slightest hint of effort. Dangerous, deadly and exactly what the Doctor had just done with her cupcake.

Her cupcake.

The Doctor was eating her sweet and when he was done he was probably going to push her back and run away like the coward he was.

Anger replaced desire.

“That's my treat!” Rose snapped, pulling herself out of his hypnotic stare and glaring at him. “Get your own!”

“Oh, I intend to,” he said, a predatory grin sliding across his face.

“Unlikely,” she spat and yanked futilely at his crushing grip. “You're all talk and no action, now will you let me go!”

“No.” He jerked her again and tightened his grip until she was locked against him. He lowered his head again and nibbled on the cake again.

“Seriously, stop eating my cake!” Rose fumed.

“What would you rather me eat?” the Doctor asked, his voice low and hungry. His gaze flickered over her face and then started a slow leisurely descent. Pressed against him as she was, he could only drift as far as her chest but that seemed enough for him.

He grinned wolfishly.

Rose's mouth dropped open. He didn't mean... he wasn't possibly...

Was he?

The Doctor ducked his head for the third time but this time he twisted her hand slightly and his mouth fell on her fingers instead of the cupcake.

“Oops.” He smirked and licked one long deliberate line from her knuckle to her fingernail.

Rose sucked in her breath, eyes wide with shock. “Doctor?”

He let go of her right hand and slowly, with microscopic deliberation, took the cupcake out of her trapped hand and dropped it on the floor.

He looked back up at her with hooded eyes.

“Rose,” he breathed.

He kissed each fingertip slowly, deliberately, and then took her whole finger into his mouth.

Rose whimpered as his tongue, his clever tongue, swirled around her mid-digit, tasting, teasing and tantalizing her senses all at the same time. He nibbled on her knuckles and scraped his lower teeth along the underside of her finger.

Rose almost came right then and there, her moan escaping through her lips with the force of a freight train.

The Doctor smiled wickedly and finally dropped her hand. Rose felt bereft for all of two seconds before his hands settled on her lower back, pulling her insistently toward shim.

One hand tangled in her hair and angled her head in perfect aligned with his.

Oh, my god, thought Rose. This is it, this is going to happen. We are really really doing this.

Almost holding her breath Rose tilted towards him, her eyes drifting shut. She could feel his breath on her cheek, on her lips and her hands trembled.

The door to the jail bounded open.

“Ok,” stammered the guard as he reached for his keys, “I've thought it through and I can't leave you to die, I mean, after all you did for the planet and--”

“GO AWAY!” the Doctor yelled and there was something in his expression that made the guard drop the keys on the floor and scramble backwards out of the jail.

The door slammed shut behind him.

The Doctor turned his head back to Rose and rolled his eyes. “Never fails, the hero almost finally gets the girl and someone interrupts. It's like getting in the bath and the phone rings.”

“Right,” Rose said, somewhat nonplussed.

“Yes, well, where were we?” The Doctor looked down at her and beamed. “Ah yes, I was going to kiss you and then, if I'm very very lucky we are going to have sex.”

“I'm not shagging you in a jail cell.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

It was Rose's turn to roll her eyes. “Essence of romance, you are. It's filthy and unhygienic and someone will...not could, but actually will walk in on us at some point. Probably just at that crucial moment. I'm not having it.”

“Neither am I and that's kind of the problem,” the Doctor said disheartened.

“You've been teasing me for months, at any time you could have just pushed me against a wall and snogged me but you chose to be a tease. I've got no sympathy.” Rose folded her arms over her chest.

The Doctor was silent for a long moment and Rose had a sudden moment of panic that she had caused him to change his mind. What was she thinking? She'd wanted the Doctor to jump her for ages and now that he was she was picky about the location? Oh, God, what if he saw this as rejection? What of he thought she wasn't interested or had changed her mind or--

Rose suddenly found herself slammed against the cell wall.

“Ye—ah, I'm taking that as permission,” The Doctor grinned ferociously and slanted his lips over hers.

The first touch was electric, a shiver racing down both their spines as the forbidden was suddenly tangible. The Doctor pressed his cool soft lips hard against her mouth, the very notion of this being a whim or a gesture thrown out of the window at his insistence.

This was a kiss. A proper kiss. He ravaged her mouth, taking and declaring with his motions that he was serious, that this was happening. Rose could feel her lips swelling, bruising under his assault and a thrill of finally making him lose control made her moan against his lips.

He ran his tongue across the seam of her mouth and Rose opened up, whimpering at the exquisite pressure as his mouth took possession of hers.

His body pressed her tightly against the wall, her own body trapped, her hands fisted in his shirt as his pinned her shoulders to the hard stone.

And still he took, searching out all of the corners of her mouth, leaving no place untouched, untracked, untasted. He sucked at her lips and tugged with his teeth and Rose was glad he had her pressed against the wall because there was no way her legs would hold her up by themselves. Every swipe of his tongue yanked at something deep inside her, every nibble of his lips sent a tickle down to the base of her back and she pulled her head back, gasping for air.

But he wasn't done. He left her mouth and kissed his way down her cheek, across her jawline and licked his way down her neck. He sucked on the hollow at the base of her throat and bit her collarbone.

Rose threw back her head and moaned.

“Oh, god, Doctor, please!”

“Please what?” He murmured teasingly against her skin, his breath as ragged as hers.

Rose's eyes flashed and she released her death grip on his shirt. She reached up and grabbed a fistful of that luscious thick hair and yanked his head back until he was staring her in the face.

“Don't. Play,” she rasped and slammed her mouth down on his. This time it was Rose who was the conqueror, Rose who took and the Doctor who was shaking and moaning.

Rose bit down on his Adam's apple and he actually mewed like a cat, his lower body twitching.

And suddenly there were too many layers between them. Rose ripped at his shirt with her bare hands, pushing his jacket out of the way in her quest to find skin. The Doctor cupped her face, ran his fingers through her hair and just moaned her name as her fingers found his chest.

“Rose, Rose, Rose,” he chanted breathlessly, his hands dancing down her sides, sliding under her tank top.

She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, twisting her body until she was flush against his pelvis, feeling the effects of their position on him.

The Doctor thrust his hips upwards causing them both to break away and gasp, the cool air suddenly coming between their bodies, jolting them into awareness.

Senses returned and Rose and the Doctor stared at each other, their breathing loud and ragged in the still air.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, licking his lips.

“Right.” She dropped her leg from his waist and slid down the wall until she was standing, shakily on two feet.

The Doctor took his sweet time releasing her, his hands reluctant to withdraw from her skin.

Rose watched as the Time Lord stepped back, his shirt undone and hair rumpled, and felt a frisson of pride that he was as dumbstruck by the encounter as she was.

She was aware that they had chemistry.

She just hadn't expected the lab explosion.

“Wh-” he cleared his throat, ignoring the squeak that had come out first, “what we need to do is get out of here and get back to the TARDIS-”

“-quickly-”

“-very quickly, and find a bed--”

“-a big bed-”

“-yes, a big bed, that isn't infested.”

Rose nodded. “Great idea.”

“I have good ideas.”

“Yes you do,” she smiled at him and his eyes lit up. “So escape?”

His smile faded a little. “Now would be a great time for that guard to come back.”

“I think you scared him.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, he did drop the keys on the floor.” The Doctor bounded over to the cell bars. “If I could fashion some sort of pulley out of the sheets I could try to make a lasso to reach them and pull them over.”

“Or you could just use this.”

The Doctor's mouth dropped as Rose handed him a crowbar.

“Wha-- wha? How? Rose Tyler, where on earth did you hide this?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

His eyes darkened. “Oh very much.”

Rose laughed. “I was fed up with being the only one without transdimensional clothes, so the TARDIS fixed me up some jeans with pockets bigger on the insides. Pillow, book, snacks and crowbar. Standard prison fare, and I should know, we've been in our fair share. I've also got a banana and a bottle of vinegar.”

“Vinegar?”

“Slitheen or chips, I like to be prepared,” Rose stuck her tongue between her teeth and grinned.

He grabbed the crowbar and pulled Rose to him. “Oh Rose, you are magnificent.”

“I am aren't I?”

“Oh yes, and now, watch my fightin' hand do some jail time.”

Rose wrinkled her nose at his very bad American accent. “Don't do that. Just don't.”
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Sneaked glances, hand holding, hushed breaths and the brush of skin on skin made their journey back to the TARDIS another form of extended foreplay. By the time the Blue Box was within sight Rose was almost jumping out of her skin and the Doctor had gone uncharacteristically quiet.

As they spied the TARDIS their steps sped up, the rambling gait quickening until finally Rose and the Doctor raced towards the time machine like something green and slimy was chasing them.

He dropped her hand momentarily as he tore the key from his pocket and fumbled with the lock.

Rose closed her eyes and moaned, her hand sliding up the back of his jacket to play with the little hairs at his nape.

He pushed the door open violently and hauled Rose in after him so hard she knew she'd have bruises.

Then all conscious thought fled as he slammed her against the door and caught her mouth with his own. He kissed her hard, driving his tongue inside her with a passion that sent shivers down her spine.

His hands were all over her, like he couldn't decide where to touch first so he settled for all of her. They ran from her hair to her hips, slid over her rear bumper and back up, coasting over breasts and stomach and cupping her face, kissing her all the time.

Rose did her best to match his fervor, sliding her tongue against his, battling for dominance but knowing that he was going to lead no matter what. She pushed back against him, fisting her hands in his hair and biting on his lower lip.

Someone growled and the Doctor slid his hand up and cupped her breast squeezing and rubbing his hands in a hard circular motion.

It was definitely him that moaned then, the sounds reverberating in her mouth. She half grinned as he pulled back burying his mouth against the side of her neck and kissing, biting, sucking whilst his hands squeezed in a pulsating rhythm.

Rose reached down, cupping his firm backside and pulling his pelvis hard against hers, feeling the effects of their frantic snogging pushing into her.

She wrapped one leg around his legs and circled her hips causing him to scrape his teeth over her collarbone.

“Ros-” he hissed, closing his eyes and pushing against her. He let go of her breast and hooked both hands under her bottom, lifting her and anchoring her against the wall with his body. Rose wrapped both legs around his waist, the new position causing them to be all the more intimately placed.

“Oh, god.”

“Just Time Lord,” the Doctor said breathlessly. He latched back on to her neck, his tongue swirling over the soft skin of her throat and shoulder. “You taste amazing.”

Rose bit down on her lip and yanked at his hair, drawing his mouth back to hers as they rocked together against the door.

The motion was all together too much and not enough. She needed him so badly and he was nowhere near close enough for her. They had too many clothes on for a start. She pulled at his tie and pushed ineffectually at his suit jacket.

“Off!” she demanded. He let go of her long enough for her to drag one sleeve off his shoulder, his suit dangling halfway down his back as she tugged at his tie again.

“Please,” she whimpered and he shuddered against her.

With a sudden jolt he dropped her and stepped back, breathing hard.

Rose stared wide-eyed wondering if she'd done something wrong.

“Bedroom. Now.” he managed and grabbed her hand again.

The TARDIS, in her infinite wisdom and immaculate sense of timing, had moved his bedroom next door to the console room so the two intoxicated lovers wouldn't spend hours roaming the corridors, lost in a lustful haze. Not that they noticed or really appreciated it as they stumbled into his room, slammed the door and attacked each others mouths again.

He pushed her away long enough to take the jacket off and threw it across the room, his tie following soon after. But that was as far as he got before Rose decided she had waited long enough and leaped on him tearing his shirt apart, buttons flying every which way.

Her hands reached for his belt and then it was all a mix of hands and material and breathing and swearing and giggling and suddenly Rose was flat on her back with naked Time Lord above her.

He stared down at the perfect picture below, her blonde hair tangled and twisted on his pillow.

“I want to touch you and taste every single inch of you, Rose Tyler. I want to roll you around my tongue until you're etched in my senses and everything tastes of Rose for the rest of my life. I want you burned on my lips and saturated in me. I. Want. You.”

“I'm yours,” she said simply and he closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

Then he opened his eyes, their drowning depths so close to hers it was like he was staring into her soul.

“I- need you.”

“You have me,” her voice was gentle and she reached a hand to softly stroke his hair.

Then he kissed her, the urgency gone from their frantic make-out sessions of before. Rose opened up under the gentle buss, allowing him, once again, to set the pace of tenderness and exploration.

He dropped butterfly kisses over her nose and eyelids, dancing across her cheekbones and down under her ears and then bit lightly against her earlobe, his cool breath making her shiver in delight.

He trailed a long damp kiss over her chest and down, finally taking her breast into his mouth, suckling on it hard.

Rose arched off the bed with a cry and scraped her fingers down his back, moaning his name. He grinned wickedly against her and danced his fingers down her body, tickling and touching and driving her crazy.

He transferred his nibbling, sucking attentions to the other breast, intent on following through on his promise to taste all of her.

Rose hissed as his hand reached between her legs, darting between her soaking folds to slide against her.


“Oh, Rose,” he moaned.

She reached down and grabbed his hand, forcing it away. He looked up at her with confused eyes.

“What?”

“You've been teasing me for months already, Doctor,” she bit out, “I don't know how much more foreplay I can take. This touching and tasting is fine but please, please, if you don't get inside me soon I might just go crazy.”


A wolfish grin lit up his face. “Well, we can't have that.” He pulled back and then, with one long thrust, pushed his whole length inside her.

She froze for a minute, the sense of his stretching and filling her so usual, so impossible and so right she could hardly breathe. Then he started to move,a slow piston movement. In and out, in and out, incredibly slow and hard.

Rose shuddered and keened, babbling sounds falling from her lips in a torrent asking and begging him to move and slide and just this way, a little harder and ohohoh

The Doctor braced his hands against the headboard and watched as Rose fell apart under his ministrations. He watched her expression as her head arched back, her mouth dropped open and he rocked into her. All of the walls fell away, surrender and devotion written on her face as he drove her closer and closer. An agony of pleasure seemed to emit from her, her breath ragged in the air. Her body shook violently as he changed his speed and trajectory, rubbing against her with each thrust. Rose cried out urging him on and begging him, spilling words he had never expected to hear and then she splintered, her body shaking and clamping hard on him.

Only when she found release did he let go, driving his hips against her faster and faster as she instinctively wound her legs around him.

He pushed deeper inside her, yanking at her hips and adjusting his thrust, pushing harder and faster. He pulsated against her, the muscles in his back rippling under her hands as he gave in to the full force of desire and then, with a yell and a moan he came, flooding her with heat and riding out the shock waves until his arms gave in and he collapsed on top of her, chest heaving and sweat dripping off him.

They lay there for a moment, panting and allowing the sweat to cool on their damp skin.

“So,” Rose finally said, “I think I won.”

It took the Doctor a moment to remember how to use the speech centre of his brain and even longer to understand her words. He raised his head from her shoulder.

“Ah, no, Rose. I definitely won.”

She grinned up at him. “What about 'You win! I forfeit, fold, yield, give in. Done, dusted, finito.'?”

He swallowed and shifted slightly. “Oh that. Oh, I totally lost that, but I did intend to because it was totally clear that you could no longer keep your hands off me.”

“What gave it away?” Rose smirked, “the pillow or the book? Admit it, you just hate being ignored.”

“Do not.”

“Yeah you do.”

“Ok, yes I do. And this is a marvellous way to keep your attention.” He shifted again and Rose caught her breath. “And I have to say it was all part of my master plan.”

“Which was?”

“Didn't get far, really. 'Shag Rose' was about it.”

Rose laughed out loud and ran her fingernails over his back

He shuddered.

“How did that work out for ya?”

The Doctor considered for a moment. “Pretty well, actually.”

Rose allowed him to dip his head and press kisses along her neck, tasting as he went. Delicious tremors rocked through her.

“W-what did you win?”

“Hmm,” he hummed around a mouthful of Rose.

“You said you won and you weren't talking about the 'who cracks first' thing. So what did you win?”

He looked up, surprised. “You, Rose. I won you.”

Her heart melted. “Are we done playing games now then, Doctor?”

He smiled softly, stroking her hair away from her face. “Oh, Rose. I was never playing.”

She touched his cheek and was rewarded with the sweetest kiss, his tongue playing against the roof of her mouth the way she had day-dreamed about all those months ago. All those times she was jealous of pen lids and ice-creams and cream cakes. The thought made her smile and he pulled away.

“What is it?”

“Just thinking. So you're done teasing me with this oral fixation of yours?”

A wicked grin crossed his face as he lowered his head. “Oh, not even close.”
Tags: doctorwho, fanfic, fic, games, ten/rose
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