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fic: Walking Backwards (2/3, DM/CA, NC-17)

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Jun. 9th, 2006 | 07:35 pm
mood: accomplished

Title: Walking Backwards (Part 2 of 3)
Author: msilverstar and nienor__niniel
Pairing: Dom Monaghan / Christine Astin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dom loves challenges, Christine is intrigued
Disclaimer: Not true: we made it up
Feedback: Yes, please
Previous: back to part 1

Dinner the next day is nice, Sean and Chris helping with the chopping for a tofu stir-fry. They don't take the piss about it, unlike Billy or Lij, always asking where the 'real' food is. It's friendly, companionable. They've recovered from jet-lag, apparently, and are fine company. Dom was bored beyond words during the shoot, one of those hurry-up-and-wait days, so it's good to be doing something. During the process, they kill several bottles of Kirin and at the end, with the green tea ice cream, a good bottle of warm sake.

Sean probably shouldn't drink so much, he knows, but there's noplace he has to be in the morning and besides, he's feeling pretty good. Elijah called him earlier, and they had a good talk; that always leaves him in a fantastic mood. And Chris is extra mellow today, too; he doesn't know when he's heard her laugh so much, and she didn't even scowl at him for glancing at the girls on the beach.

All that, plus the wine, gives him Dutch courage, and loosens his tongue. He's babbling, he knows, but he feels comfortable and safe, and when he hears himself start to talk about open relationships, he checks to be sure Chris is okay, but she looks fine, quite unruffled, so he just unplugs his tongue and lets go.

"Sometimes I don't know why laws are like they are. I mean, lots of people are in open relationships, and it's just like gay rights-- partners in a multiple should get benefits too. Like common law spouses. And it would cut back on all kinds of problems-- like Heinlein said." Whoa, he's really in deep if he's bringing up Heinlein. But Chris is sipping wine, looking gorgeous and calm, and Dom is just snickering quietly to himself, and Sean pours himself some more sake. "As long as both partners agree, there's nothing wrong with it. All the partners." He corrects himself. "For the right people, at the right time."

Dom's never heard Sean say that before, never heard him even consider anything besides traditional marriage. "Can it work, though?" he asks, idle curiosity until he thinks of Chris's teasing yesterday. That adds a bit more personal interest to the topic, "Don't people get all jealous and possessive?"

Sean sobers for a moment. "Sometimes they do," he says ruefully, shooting a glance at Christine, thinking of Elijah. "Sometimes they don't understand there's plenty of love. Enough to go around. For everyone! Without ever reducing what the first person gets." He looks at the bottom of his empty glass and wonders where all the wine he just poured went. He pours himself another. "This is damn good sake, and I say this as a man who buys a lot of wine."

"You mean it was damn good sake," Christine interjects, softly, but her tone is stoll tolerant and amused.

"I have more," Dom says, "I'll warm it up if you want." He's hesitant to ask what he really wants to know: would Sean ever share Chris? Or does the 'open' only apply to him and Lij?

Christine nods for Dom to warm the sake; Sean is digging himself a hole and he doesn't yet know how deep. But he will-- what's sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose. That simply, she has decided-- if Sean complains later, she'll recite this to him word for word. And if that doesn't get her off the hook, she'll bring up Elijah. Hoist by his own petard.

She smiles into her sake, satisfied; let Dom get Sean so drunk he passes out, then-- it will clear the playing field for the next phase of the game.

Chris is looking like the cat who ate the chickens, so Dom decides his conscience is clear. Sean's fading fast, and it's a nice night. He puts the next bottle onto the little sake-warmer pot that someone sent the whole Lost cast, and waits while it gets just above body temperature, then offers it round, clinking the pottery cups together. Goes down very easily when it's warm like that.

Dom eyes Chris again, trying to peer down her neckline, but her sundress only teases without exposing anything. Just like her. He wanders off to the loo and takes a long drink of cold water -- bad idea, getting pished, if he's to deal with a hot handful like Chris.

It doesn't occur to Sean to wonder why Christine isn't nagging him about how much he's drinking-- he assumes it's because the kids aren't around. So he pours himself another little cup and sips at it, feeling mellow. Even Dom is less abrasive than usual, so Sean is feeling fine-- until he stands up and the sake hits him within a couple of steps, making him wobble. Chris is at his side in an instant, steadying him. "Time to get to bed before we have to haul you by the heels," she chides him.

"'M fine," Sean insists to the leftmost one of her-- he can see four. This realization persuades him not to complain as she bustles him off to bed and settles him on his side, pulling off his jeans and his shoes before she tucks the blanket over him and lets herself out. He's already snoring by the time she hits the light switch.

Dom tidies up a bit, dumping the dirty dishes in the machine and the rest in the sink. There's a housecleaner who comes most days, and he's happy if he never has to wash another pot in his life. He wanders back to the lounge and then the deck, leaning on the railing and looking at the ocean in the night. 'S not like he's ever been tied to one person long enough to know if it's good for him. "Leave them laughing, when you go," is his personal philosophy, and it's worked all right so far. Though he'd like to have kids someday, before he's too old to play with them properly.

Christine fetches a few items from her suitcase and stashes them in her canvas beach bag, then zips the top. She feels strangely giddy; her heart is beating too fast, and her breathing is shallow. She's had maybe a little too much wine herself, but not so much she'll be unable to think, if she needs to: just enough to make her float. She thinks it's time for a change of venue; motherhood isn't exactly kind to the body, but moonlight should hide the worst of the telltales. And it's so warm outside, all the doors and windows are open. Sean won't stir till ten or eleven the next day, if she knows him.

She goes into the living room, and finds things put away-- Dom is in the kitchen. He's plenty acute; he seems to have an inkling already of what's going on. She's willing to bet he's up for it-- there won't be any painful discussions about marriage vows, if she's confident.

As she steps out onto the deck, she tilts her head towards the surf. "It's stuffy inside. I want to walk on the beach. Are you up for it?"

"Sounds nice, sure," Dom answers, still not sure what she's really asking. A bit deeper than he ever knew, Chris is turning out to be. He doubts she's drunk enough to explain that 'leather' remark from the car, and he knows he's not drunk enough to ask. So he toddles on along with her, glad to be out in the air with the sand in his toes, making up lurid fantasies of blowjobs and sex in the surf.

Christine had never seen a night so beautiful-- her feet shine palely on the black sand, and the foam seems to shine in the moonlight. Even the water shines-- and gradually she realizes, as the moon fades briefly behind a cloud, that the water is shining in ragged strips, a pale green glow from within. Some kind of phosphorescent marine life, maybe. Dom is quiet, letting her choose the path; she picks up a shell and bends to wash it in the surf. It's a cowrie big enough to fill her palm. She shines sand off it with her dress. Ally will love it. She'll have to find another for Lizzie, if she can. "This place is like paradise. I think if you had to be stranded somewhere in a plane crash, this would be the place to do it. It would be a relief, in a lot of ways...."

"Ahhh, the two of you," Dom answers, laughing. "A week and you'll be off your heads, bored stiff, organising soup kitchens or something." He rather wishes he'd not thought about sex, because now he has a boner and she's become the mum again. He finds another cowrie shell and gives it to her, "Give the girls one each, yeah?" He does love them, they're his pets and he'd never hurt them.

"Thank you; I will." She takes the shell and puts it in her bag, next to the other. "Who said Sean would be on the plane? You heard him." She laughs, a little stiffly. If Sean organized a soup kitchen, she knew who'd be stuck doing all the practical work. "Tell me, how is Elijah these days?" She hears the anger in her voice. "And Billy, and the others, of course." She mellows her tone a little, looking sidewise at Dom.

Dom can't follow the twists and changes of her mood. Something's biting arse, and he hopes it isn't him. Well, not in the bad way at least. She knows about Lij's projects -- of course, why did she ask? -- so he expounds on Billy's Scottish films and what he knows of Viggo and Bean. It's all very safe and dull.

Dom misses her insinuation-- perhaps honestly, perhaps deceptively; she can't tell. She sighs and stops, just short of the waves-- the inflated bladder of a jellyfish shines dimly in the moonlight, bobbing just a few feet out, and she knows enough to stay away from the water with this thing nearby; she doesn't want a nasty set of stings. She wishes she'd thought to have him bring some wine out; now that the moment of truth is on her, she feels tense and uncertain. The sky feels very wide, very far away. "And how are you faring?" Her voice drops. "Are you happy here, Dominic?"

"It's fantastic," he answers, wondering what she's getting at. "Not quite New Zealand, so I suppose not quite perfect, but I get a bit more respect, which I can't argue with." He waves at the scene before them, moonlit and warm, "And it's like this all year round, except when it rains and even that's a blast. The lizards come out when it's raining."

"Lizards? Maybe I wouldn't want to be stranded here after all." The wind picks up and whips her dress around her legs. She uses it as an excuse to edge closer to Dom. "They don't come out at night, do they? Do they swim at all?"

Laughing, Dom answers, "No, they're in the jungly bits, not on the beach. And none of them are poisonous!" She seems to expect it, so he wraps an arm round her shoulders. "Didn't Sean do his research on hazards?"

"I tuned him out," she admits, leaning against his arm a little. "Somewhere in the middle of the lecture on volcanoes." She laughs, low and throaty. "Anyway, I don't think he was anticipating the most dangerous thing on the island."

Dom can feel her laugh course through is body, and it's bloody sexy. That line is too, full of innuendo. She's swung back to enticing and he hopes she'll stay in that direction. He slides his arm down from her shoulder to her curvy waist and asks, in the same tones, "And what is the most dangerous thing?"

She can feel exhilaration coursing through her like wine; she's not going to give him the answer expects-- but this time, perhaps, it's the right one. She glances at the sea; the jellyfish is out of sight, left far behind them now. "Me," she says, and before he can react, she reaches for the hem of her dress, skins it over her head, steps out of her panties and dumps her bag on top of the little heap of clothes, then dashes into the ocean.

Fucking whiplash, that's how Dom feels. She's right, she is dangerous, to his brain and his bollocks. But if anyone's going naked in the sea, Dom's going too. His t-shirt and shorts come off easily, and he's following her, again, into the cool water. This time, though, he catches up with her and wraps his arms around her, "You're not the only one who's dangerous," he whispers into her ear.

Christine wriggles against him, pretending to struggle, guessing it will turn him on. She turns her head to his, though, her cheek against his face, even as she moves, to let him know she doesn't mean it. "Well, yes," she admits after a few moments. "I would have listed you as public enemy number two."

Her body moves against his, saying yes and no at the same time. Women, Dom thinks, can't just fuck, have to play games. Time for him to take the initiative again. He holds her tighter, so she can't get away, and growls into her ear, "Last chance to say 'no,' Chris, or I'm gonna give you what you're asking for."

She could still get away, if she wanted, but it would involve hurting him, and she doesn't want to do that. Instead she capitulates, tilting her head, offering him her throat. "I thought you said you were getting enough sex," she says, but her voice says "Yes, what are you waiting for?"

"Wha?" he'd no idea he'd said that out loud. Then he laughs and murmurs, "Never enough, no such thing." One hand starts stroking her shoulder and his mouth opens to feast on her neck. She's a challenge, one that makes him all hot and bothered, and he intends to enjoy every moment.

Christine slides her open hand down his side and around behind his ass, pulling him up firmly against her. "Mmmmmmmmmmm. Feels good," she sighs. The waves surge gently around them, hissing and sighing, and the soft glow of the water ripples around them. "What do you like to do in bed, hmmmmmmm?" She purrs the words, liking the feeling of his hands, wishing they'd wander a little more. "You look like a tiger-- do you like it kinky, or do you go vanilla?" She punctuates it with a skillful little wriggle that leads his cock to nestle in the cleft of her ass.

Dom can't quite believe how fast this is going, once Chris gets started. He slides his hand down her chest to tease at her breasts, and his other hand goes down to her parted thighs, not quite touching yet. He stops sucking her neck before he can leave a mark, no sense overdoing things. His hips rock into her soft arse, almost as good as fucking. He whispers, "I'd like to fuck you till you yell, eat you out and watch you blow me, take it deep, bet you are a fantastic cocksucker...

Christine laughs. "Vanilla, then, for starters." She wriggles out of his hands and takes a deep breath, then slides down his front and takes his cock in her mouth all the way to the root-- it's easy; she's used to Sean's. She fucks her mouth with it, bobbing until the need for air urges her back to the surface, where she gasps another big breath and goes down on him again, literally, salt and heat in her mouth. She manages half a dozen times before she has to take a breather, and wraps him up in her fist, blinking water from her lashes, laughing at the look on his face.

"Fucking God, you're good," is all Dom can say, gasping and wishing he had something to hold on to. He likes a blow job as well as the next bloke but he doesn't want her to drown. So he pulls her up, touching all over as the water streams off her naked skin.

Christine lets him hold her up, wishing she could wrap her legs around him and let him in right here, right now, but especially since she isn't sure he's not shooting up, she doesn't think that's a good idea without a condom. "Well, if you don't want it that way, how about re-enacting 'From Here to Eternity?'" She kisses him with plenty of tongue, hot and slow and nasty. "I have condoms in my bag."

She kisses likes she sucks cock: really, almost the same, 's fucking intense. Dom's rubbing up against her like a boy about to explode. He leads her back to her bag, wishing they had a towel cos nothing fucks up fucking like sand in the crotch. "Kneel down," he growls and pushes up behind her, bending her over, doggy style. He catches her breasts in his hands and they moan together, Dom because they're soft and big and natural. He pushes her legs apart and licks the water off her back, one hand coming down to start teasing her cunt as she moves under him.

"You're so hot, hot for it, want you so bad..." he murmurs, "ya got a condom?"

She reaches in her bag and brings out a little silver packet. "Give it to me hard," she murmurs huskily, pressing it into his waiting hand. "You look like you're plenty rough round the edges, and I like it that way." She squirms against his fingers, liking the way he doesn't hesitate to touch her. She's ready for him; he can get off fast this time, then they'll go back to the house and take it nice and slow-- and she can show him some of the tricks she's got up her sleeve.

Dom moans, he's lost control now, she has it with her dirty talk. His fingers find her cunt slick and hot, even when he's rubbing her clit, she doesn't lose it. All he can do is put the rubber on and shove into her, rough as she wants, one hand squeezing her hanging tits as he rocks back and forth.

She pushes back hard to meet him, and their bodies slam together with satisfying force. "Ohhhh, that's it, yeah, split me right open. So good, fuck...." he's not rough enough with his hands, but he'll learn, and he's got a good angle on the G-spot. She squeezes him tight as she can-- after two babies, kegel exercises are a must-- and keeps pushing back on him, not letting him slow it down. She moans, cursing, and twists her hips a little. "Don't be such a gentleman!" she gasps. "Touch me, dammit!"

"Fuck yeah," Dom pants, pounding into her, hand reaching down to touch her clit again. She's so good around him, so hot and slippery and sexy that he wants to make her wail. He can feel her twitch when he touches just right, and when he times his fingers and cock together, she bucks and moans. It's incredibly hot, feeling her go a little wild.

Christine can feel the fingers of the tide brushing at her toes; it's coming in gradually. She whimpers, encouraging him for a particularly good twist of his fingertips, and lifts one arm, pinching at her nipples, working to speed things up. This is good, but she wants him inside the house on a bed, where they can roll about without getting sand where the sun doesn't shine.

"Wanna feel you come all round my cock," Dom says, twisting his fingers again. He humps her hard, changing angles to find her g-spot, feeling when it's good, when he has her inside and out. They're both slick with sweat, sliding a bit until he pushes her legs even further open so he can pump straight in. "Gonna fuck you until you come, you sexy bitch," he growls, exhilarated. This is so wild, beyond anything he ever expected from her.

She gasps when he finds the angle-- he's got it just right now, and she can feel herself start to sweat, the breeze turning it cool on her skin. She lifts her chin, whimpering, wishing he'd grab her hair and pull her head up himself-- if he wants to top, he needs to learn how, damn it. But it's good anyway, and getting better; his cock curves a little differently from Sean's, and in a very, very good way. "Fuck me, you bastard, do it," she hisses between her teeth. "Make me scream."

Planting his knees in the sand, Dom pulls her up against him, one hand grabbing a tit and the other one tight on her cunt. She brings out the worst in him and he loves it. The girls here are so nice, it's been ages since he had such hot nasty sex. He bites the back of her shoulder and growls, "Gonna ream you till you scream, slut, gonna fuck your brains out and make you beg."

She utters a strangled, satisfied yelp; that's more like it. At the moment, loving the way his teeth feel sunk in her shoulder, she doesn't even care if he marks her. "Hurt me, yesss..." she bucks against him. "Do it... It's good, fuck, so good..." She whips her hair out of his way, the wet tails of it stinging her arm. She pushes back on him; he's hitting her cervix now when he bottoms out, a tease of pain, a nice solid reminder that he's in there. Sean does that even when he doesn't mean to, and she loves it. "Harder, oh god. Please...."

She is, she's begging and that makes Dom so hot he's about to fucking blow. He gives her nipple a particularly vicious twist and jams his fist against her cunt as he pushes his cock hard into her. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," he chants as he pumps into her cunt. If it weren't so sandy, he'd bend her on her face and slap her ass. As it is he can feel the sand on his hand scraping her breasts as he goes for the other tit, squeezing it until she wails, saying, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you..."

He's finally on her wavelength, and she abandons herself to it, moaning as he twists her nipple, and grinding herself against his fist. She can't remember when she's been fucked with so much raw energy, and so much desperate need. She whines, her head drooping, and suddenly she's there-- an explosion of pleasure as bright as the sun, and she shrieks with the glory of it, shuddering and clenching around him, her mouth full of the taste of salt. It hits her again and again, swamping her like a tidal wave, wringing cry after cry out of her. All she cares about is the way he keeps driving into her, making her spasm over and over again.

"Fucking fuck, yeah," Dom growls, feeling her squeeze his prick with her orgasm. He's won the prize, risen to her challenge, and it's the pleasure of triumph as much as anything else that rushes over him. He yells when he comes, spurting hard into the rubber, clutching at her, fingers digging into her soft flesh. He strokes into her as long as he can, making it last, milking every last bit of pleasure.

Christine wobbles but struggles to stay upright, gasping air; she holds up half of Dom's weight as he shivers out the last of his climax. The tide runs in and foams around her knees, and she sinks in the sand, faltering a little; as he slips out of her she sags over onto her side. The dark sands still hold the warmth of the sun, where they're dry, and they feel good on her skin. He slumps next to her and puts his arm around her, and she snuggles close, waiting to regain her breath, and feeling the swift rise and fall of his chest behind her. She had expected to feel regret; instead, she feels triumphant and satisfied, her decision vindicated by the energy they made together.

Of all the naughty things Dom's done, shagging a mate's wife on the beach is not one of them. But then, she did as much as he, maybe more. Told him not to be a gentleman, to fuck her harder, begged for more. He'll never look at her the same way again. "Chris," he begins, when he has breath, "that was fantastic, fucking great, but are you... Are we all right?"

She considers dropping the Elijah bombshell, and decides against it. "We're fine," she says, calm. "I'd say better than all right, if you want to know the truth. That was fantastic." She purrs, stroking his arm. "So good I'd like to do it again. As soon as possible, in fact." She smiles, the sand scratchy against her face. "With that much wine in him, Sean will sleep like the dead till well after dawn. Let's go in, get a shower, and see what we can do with a bed."

Again, what an amazing woman! His prick twitches at that, though the rest of him wonders how hard she'll want it this time. "Yeah," he answers, "get the sand off and then yeah, my bed's at the other end of the house." It doesn't squeak, either, which is probably good.

Christine gets up, gathering her things, and sets off towards the house without bothering to put them on, walking with an easy sway. She smiles a little to herself, enjoying the well-fucked feeling that glows in her belly. She stops at the deck. "I'm going to go check on Sean and get a few things," she murmurs, and pulls Dom in for a quick kiss. "I'll join you in a few minutes." She nips at his mouth. She'll have a quick wash and put on a little something special.

On to part 3

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Comments {2}

kinda into that Colin Morgan guy

(no subject)

from: rodneyscat
date: Jun. 10th, 2006 06:32 pm (UTC)

I just read both parts, and I'm really enjoying this! I like the way Christine and Dom are trying to figure each other out and when a certain point is reached just go for it. I can really hear Dom talking, can follow the way the thinks and it's easy for me to identify with Christine.

I'm looking forward to part 3!

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(no subject)

from: msilverstar
date: Jun. 10th, 2006 07:51 pm (UTC)

Thank you! It was fun to write.

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