Post by greenie on Aug 13, 2009 21:26:52 GMT 10
Title: Cougar (I couldn't resist 
)
Rating: R
Words: 654
Pairing: Alanna/Liam of Conte
Summary: Alanna wakes to find she's not curled up against the man she expected...but she doesn't mind.
A hand snaking around her waist stirred her from her sleep. “Mmm, George.”
“Are you going to call George Liam when you get home?”
“Don’t be awful George, Liam’s dead.” Even as she said it in her half-asleep state, she realised that the voice hadn’t been George’s.
“Really?” said the voice. “Dead? I hadn’t noticed.”
She rolled over and came face to face with a pair of blue eyes. She knew those eyes. She’d woken up next to them, along with the famous jet-black hair that accompanied them, in Jonathan’s bed for over two years of her life. Prince Liam of Conte definitely took after his father. A quick peek under the covers confirmed that neither of them wore a stitch of clothing…except for her pregnancy charm. At least she could be thankful for something.
“Oh, gods.” She ran a hand over her face, fully awake now.
He laughed. “That’s an improvement on the fluent swearing I’ve been greeted with these last three mornings. Perhaps in a week, I’ll get woken with a kiss and a ‘Good morning, Liam’.” As if to emphasise his point, he planted a kiss on her collarbone and grinned at her. “Good morning, Alanna.”
“No,” she said. “No, no, no. You’re supposed to be cute and little and mischevious, and call me Aunty Alanna. Can’t you go and climb trees or dig up worms or something?”
He laughed again, a deep rumble in his chest. “I can definitely do mischevious still. And I can handle using Aunty Alanna if that’s what floods you with desire.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she groaned.
“Tonight, I’m going to leave myself a note on the bed, saying ‘Don’t sleep with Liam again, he’s an idiot.’” She noticed that both his hand and his gaze travelled boldly over her body. “You’re exactly like your father,” she complained.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“What makes you think it isn’t?”
“What makes you pretend you don’t want any of this? As I recall, you were even more enthusiastic than I was last night.” She scowled at him, until his hand slid down lower. She gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily, and he laughed.
Her scowl reappeared. “It’s not funny.” His attention had shifted instead to the faded stretch marks on her body, his fingers softly running over them. “See?” she said. “Those are from when I was pregnant with my children. Do I have to remind you that you’re the exact same age as Thom? You should be off romancing all the beautiful young court ladies.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he pointed out. “There aren’t any beautiful court ladies.” His gaze roamed over her body again, and he flashed a cheeky grin at her. “You’ll do.”
She gave him a cuff around the head, and rolled over. “I’m going back to sleep.”
He curled himself around her. “We fit together so nicely,” he said, satisfied. “Actually, our situation is sort of fitting too. I mean, Father slept with you when you were his seventeen-year-old squire. Now, all these years later, you’re sleeping with his son, who just so happens to be seventeen, and your squire.”
“Liam?” She elbowed him. “Shut up.”
He grinned to himself, knowing full well that he was winding her up and enjoying every moment of it. After all, he was just like his father, and could easily charm her with a grin and a sparkle in his Conte blue eyes. “But don’t worry,” he added. “I don’t mind sharing Father’s leftovers.”
It happened too fast for him to even notice exactly what she’d done, but the next thing he knew, he was landing on the floor on the other side of the room.
“What’s got you in such a grump?” he complained.
“It’s morning,” she mumbled. “I don’t like mornings.”
“Well,” he said suggestively. “Maybe I can sweeten it up for you.”
And he did.
)Rating: R
Words: 654
Pairing: Alanna/Liam of Conte
Summary: Alanna wakes to find she's not curled up against the man she expected...but she doesn't mind.
A hand snaking around her waist stirred her from her sleep. “Mmm, George.”
“Are you going to call George Liam when you get home?”
“Don’t be awful George, Liam’s dead.” Even as she said it in her half-asleep state, she realised that the voice hadn’t been George’s.
“Really?” said the voice. “Dead? I hadn’t noticed.”
She rolled over and came face to face with a pair of blue eyes. She knew those eyes. She’d woken up next to them, along with the famous jet-black hair that accompanied them, in Jonathan’s bed for over two years of her life. Prince Liam of Conte definitely took after his father. A quick peek under the covers confirmed that neither of them wore a stitch of clothing…except for her pregnancy charm. At least she could be thankful for something.
“Oh, gods.” She ran a hand over her face, fully awake now.
He laughed. “That’s an improvement on the fluent swearing I’ve been greeted with these last three mornings. Perhaps in a week, I’ll get woken with a kiss and a ‘Good morning, Liam’.” As if to emphasise his point, he planted a kiss on her collarbone and grinned at her. “Good morning, Alanna.”
“No,” she said. “No, no, no. You’re supposed to be cute and little and mischevious, and call me Aunty Alanna. Can’t you go and climb trees or dig up worms or something?”
He laughed again, a deep rumble in his chest. “I can definitely do mischevious still. And I can handle using Aunty Alanna if that’s what floods you with desire.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she groaned.
“Tonight, I’m going to leave myself a note on the bed, saying ‘Don’t sleep with Liam again, he’s an idiot.’” She noticed that both his hand and his gaze travelled boldly over her body. “You’re exactly like your father,” she complained.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“What makes you think it isn’t?”
“What makes you pretend you don’t want any of this? As I recall, you were even more enthusiastic than I was last night.” She scowled at him, until his hand slid down lower. She gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily, and he laughed.
Her scowl reappeared. “It’s not funny.” His attention had shifted instead to the faded stretch marks on her body, his fingers softly running over them. “See?” she said. “Those are from when I was pregnant with my children. Do I have to remind you that you’re the exact same age as Thom? You should be off romancing all the beautiful young court ladies.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he pointed out. “There aren’t any beautiful court ladies.” His gaze roamed over her body again, and he flashed a cheeky grin at her. “You’ll do.”
She gave him a cuff around the head, and rolled over. “I’m going back to sleep.”
He curled himself around her. “We fit together so nicely,” he said, satisfied. “Actually, our situation is sort of fitting too. I mean, Father slept with you when you were his seventeen-year-old squire. Now, all these years later, you’re sleeping with his son, who just so happens to be seventeen, and your squire.”
“Liam?” She elbowed him. “Shut up.”
He grinned to himself, knowing full well that he was winding her up and enjoying every moment of it. After all, he was just like his father, and could easily charm her with a grin and a sparkle in his Conte blue eyes. “But don’t worry,” he added. “I don’t mind sharing Father’s leftovers.”
It happened too fast for him to even notice exactly what she’d done, but the next thing he knew, he was landing on the floor on the other side of the room.
“What’s got you in such a grump?” he complained.
“It’s morning,” she mumbled. “I don’t like mornings.”
“Well,” he said suggestively. “Maybe I can sweeten it up for you.”
And he did.
I didn't like like it, mainly because it is a bit squicky, but it was the subject I didn't really like, not the way it was portrayed. It was good. I liked how Alanna was less serious about it, that she still had George in her mind, and I don't know whether it was your intention to make Liam sound a bit like he was trying to get back at Jon, in a way, or whether that was just how I read it.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
