by livE
Rating: ADULT
Category: Canon AU
E-mail: lieselvw@mweb.co.za
Disclaimer: Nothing in the Roswell universe is mine.
Summary: Accompanied piece to The Experiment Series. Set in the (happy) future. Max and Liz got married after school, had children some years later and are still very much in love
and lust!
He knelt next to the tub, slowly running his hand down her bare, wet arm that was resting on the side, and watched her body's reaction with hooded eyes. She trembled, her nipples hardening to
peaks that begged for the touch of his hand or his mouth. But... not yet.
Her breath was coming in little tortured gasps and she had to fight to stop her eyes from drifting shut in ecstasy. She wanted to watch him watch her. It was indescribably erotic. His eyes were
devouring her body with such heat that it felt like she was burned everywhere they went. He hadn't done anything but touch her arm yet and already the ache low in her stomach was becoming unbearable.
"Please Max..."
Her plea turned into a low moan as his hand drifted from her arm, across her flat stomach. He trailed his fingers lightly over her womb under the water, causing her to inhale sharply and arch towards
him. Her hands clutched desperately at the sides of the bath, where he had placed them earlier. Her shaking increased and she wondered how long she could stay still under this gentle torture.
Leaving one hand resting low on her abdomen, he brought the other up to slide through her dark tresses. He swept the strands over her shoulder, smoothing them down until they almost covered her
nipples. He brushed his trembling fingers over the silky swath repeatedly, but always stopped just before touching her breast.
The only thing that kept her from disobeying his orders about not moving her hands from the rim of the tub, was the profound effect all of this was having on him too. The snug fit of his jeans did
nothing to hide his arousal. His face was flushed and his breathing ragged. But, as usual, it was his eyes that did her in. They were almost black with desire as they swept her body restlessly.
"Touch me..."
His gaze snapped up to hers, getting snagged in those doe eyes like it always has. Her eyes were speaking of her needs and her love. Slowly he let his fingers slide the last few inches down her hair
to brush across her breast.
"Oh God..." His slurred voice surprised both of them.
'PLEASE!' Her scream echoed in his mind and galvanized him into action. He cupped her breast in his hand, caressing it urgently.
Her head fell back as she arched desperately closer to his hand, needing him to increase the pressure and tempo of his touches.
Sliding his thumb over her nipple, he reveled in the different textures of her breast. In the instinctive reaction of her body to his touch. Even after all these years, it humbled him that he had
such power over her. That she would so trustingly, eagerly, put her body in his hands. Rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he watched every movement of her body with hungry eyes.
Listened for every small sigh and every helpless moan he wrung from her. Her responses always brought him as much pleasure as her hands on his body.
Leaning forward, he ran his open mouth down her arm, sliding his tongue over her smooth skin. Little ripples under her skin followed his touch. Even my skin recognizes you... She had told him
that a few times and it was a heady thought. That he was so ingrained in her that she didn't need to see or hear him to know it's him. You're my other half, that's why... He reached her hand
and licked her fingers, each one individually, curling his tongue around them and sucking until she cried out his name.
He loved that. Hearing her call his name. It was such an instinctive thing to do. No thinking about it, just "Max!" It confirmed his possession of her... heart, mind, soul and body. And yes, he liked
that. That she was his. That she had only ever been his. That no one else had ever seen her like this. That no one else's name had tumbled from her lips in a moment of abandoned passion.
"Max..." A sigh.
How many ways she said his name! And each time with so much meaning...
"Max!" I'm so happy to see you!
"Max..." Please hold me...
"Max." You need me, even if you won't admit it.
"Max!" The kids need you!
"Max!" It's time to stop being gentle!
"Max..." My lover, my love...
Kiss me! Her eyes were begging him. I need to feel you lips on mine. Her eyes were luring him in. Following his every movement and every breath with a heated gaze. He moved closer,
sliding his arm between her shoulders and the tub and lifting her closer to him while his other hand continued its torturous caresses on her breasts.
She parted her lips in anticipation, slowly moistening them with her tongue. Hearing his gasp, she tore her gaze from his mouth and glanced in his eyes. They were almost black now. Dark with desire
for her. He was watching her intently, studying her every response. She felt her chest starting to heave as she fought for breath. He was so close... She could feel his heat scorching her, his breath
feathering across her lips. But still he didn't kiss her. He just watched her with those amazing eyes. Watched her anticipation and desire increase. Until every pant from her included a whimper.
Her eyes widened as he moved his hand from her breast down to her stomach, leaving it to rest fleetingly against that place where he had healed her so many years ago. Against her womb with which she
had given him his son four years ago and his daughter two years later. I love you. He didn't say it, but she heard it clearly in her head. She still marveled at the fact that in moments of
intense emotion, such as this, they could talk to each other telepathically. She didn't have time to ponder it for long though, for his hand was sliding lower, brushing over the curls between her
legs before finding her center.
At the first slide of his fingers on her moist core, she nearly came out of the tub, her cry ringing in their ears. He was still staring at her face, his eyes heavy-lidded and intense. Knowing
exactly what he was doing to her. Knowing how the lust was slamming through her body only to converge in that one point where his fingers were caressing her. She pressed herself against his hand
shamelessly, striving for that ultimate release he had made her so addicted to. The release that meant the end of all rational thinking, and the beginning of a few blissful minutes of only
feeling.
She was wet and hot and her movements mesmerized him. Her eyes clung to his as she arched against his touch rhythmically. He let his fingers mimic what his body would do to her later until he felt
the first fine tremors start deep in her body. Moving his hand slowly back to her stomach, he waited for, and heard, her moan of disappointment. "Not without me..." he whispered against her lips.
He twisted her hair around his hand, holding her head prisoner as he teased her mouth with his. Rubbing his lips over hers with the barest of touches before tracing her them with his tongue. Her hand
curled in his shirt, her fingers bunching the material together urgently. His mouth drifted over her jaw to her ear and he blew softly before sliding his tongue over the whorls.
"Oh god, Max! Please!"
"Please what?" His spoke softly in her ear, his breath tickling the places his tongue had just wet. "Please stop?"
"Noo!" It was a helpless moan. "Please... more... I need more!"
He lifted her even closer, nuzzling her face before running his tongue over her lips again. When he spoke, she could feel each syllable against her moist mouth. "I never could say no to you... or
stay away from you."
He was torturing her purposely, but his hoarse voice indicated that he too was affected by his game. His eyes moved to her mouth, watching as she struggled for breath for a few seconds, before he
dipped his head and captured her lips forcefully. Both of them moaned at the contact. It was still as electrifying as that first kiss on her balcony so many years ago, only now it was intensified by
the added physical knowledge of each other. Their tongues dueled, sliding across each other intimately, knowingly. Hungrily.
He kissed like he made love. With total absorption and such wonderful expertise. It had been like that for all the years she's known him. There never was "just a kiss" between them. It drove their
friends mad that they always got so lost in each other. But for however long Max's mouth was loving hers, they were the only two people in the universe...
Visions of the two of them flickered behind her closed eyelids. Visions of them kissing, making love, getting married, of a planet she's never been to, the tears in his eyes when he held his son for
the first time... So many happy memories that they once feared they would never have.
And through it all he kept on devouring her mouth, catching her little moans of pleasure with his lips and rewarding her with his sighs. His hands cupped her face, a gesture she had come to know as
being so very Max. His fingers slid into her hair as his thumbs caressed the corners of her mouth. 'Give in, Liz! Give in before I do...' She heard his thoughts clearly and curled her hands
more tightly around the edges of the tub. 'Oh no, Max Evans, I'm going to win this--'.
But she didn't. He did. Like he almost always does. He won by tearing his mouth away and leaning his forehead against hers before saying: "I want you Mrs. Evans" in that rough, sexy,
only-you-can-do-this-to-me voice of his. The one that made her feel like he had traced her naked spine with a feather, causing her to shiver violently. Oh, his voice...
She startled him, so quick was her surrender. Abruptly giving up her efforts to keep her hands off him, she turned her whole body towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. His white shirt was
getting soaked in the process, but neither of them cared. He half-lifted her from the tub, his breath hissing from him as her naked breasts came in contact with his chest.
"Liz!" She had been made to fit him, her body filling all the spaces in his. Having her all wet against him was incredibly erotic. His hands slid over the slick skin of her back until they could cup
the cheeks of her behind. Slowly getting up, he pressed each new inch of her that was freed from the tub and the water against him, feeling the cold places where their bodies had not been touching
before staring to heat up. Her scent was intoxicating. It was so... Liz. He could find her with his eyes closed.
She nipped his throat with her teeth. He tasted like heaven, so very male. His skin was salty and hot, just like the rest of him. She rubbed herself against him languidly, his wet shirt providing
little impediment for her to feel the lashed steel of his muscles. Hard all over, that was Max. She felt the flex of those muscles against her as he lifted her out of the tub with one arm before
letting her slide to the floor gently. But he wasn't finished with her yet.
When he was sure she was standing on her own, he pressed his hand flat between her shoulder blades, bringing her flush with his body. He stood resting against her for a few precious moments. This
was home.
She looked up into his face as he started combing his glowing hands through her hair, drying it until it lay in a smooth wave down her back. When he was finished, adoration had joined desire in her
eyes. "Thank you."
"It was for me," his voice was still raspy, sexy. He arched her lower body into his, pressing her against his arousal. "I don't know how I made it. All those years ago, without this..." He rubbed her
against him, closing his eyes in ecstasy as she moaned.
"Oh God, Liz!" He trailed his fingers up her back tracing the indentation of her spine until a long shudder racked her body. He could smell the scent of her arousal, it filled the air around them,
making him drunk with desire.
Liz was reeling from all the sensations assailing her. His magic touch, his whispered words, his heat, his excitement, his love, his expertise, his... everything.
He turned her around unexpectedly, aligning her back to his chest and slowly spun them until she could see their outlines in the misty full length mirror. It was a stark contrast: her small frame
dwarfed by his size, his tanned hands against her pale skin, her nakedness against his shirt and jeans.
She tilted her head backwards until it rested against his shoulder, but kept her eyes open, watching him seduce her. He swept his hands down her sides, his fingers nearly meeting when they reached
her tiny waist. But he didn't stop there. Slowly, he inched his hands down until they had traversed her hips and found her thighs. He curled his hands inward, his fingers finding the insides and
gently nudged her legs apart. She didn't have a solid bone left in her body. Or a rational thought in her mind. So she blindly did what he was urging, opening her legs until he could slide one of his
hard thighs in between. Thankfully he did, or she would have melted to the floor.
He trailed his hands back up, gliding them under her arms until he could lift them up to wrap around his neck. She clung to him helplessly, her fingers tangled in his hair and her breath heavy and
tortured.
He was fascinated by the signs of arousal in her body. It was so obvious with men, but so subtle with women. His hands found her nipples again, his palms rotating against the stiff peaks as he
watched her writhe against him.
She bit down a moan, not wanting to break the silence yet. The silence that was already filled with the sounds of their breathing and the shared thoughts in their minds. She pressed down against his
thigh, trying to assuage the ache in the pit of her stomach, the sharp pain of need at the juncture of her legs.
Please, her mind was begging, please, please, please... "Oh please," it spilled out of her lips.
And he gave in. A little. Moving his hand between her thighs to that place that ached to be filled by him. She arched into his hand shamelessly, opening her legs wider in anticipation.
His fingers found her center. It was hot and wet and slick. He groaned as his fingers parted her folds and entered her. He heard her cry out his name in momentary relief. He gloried in the rush of
moistness covering his fingers. I did this to her. Me. My touch. My caress. Continuing the rhythmic slide of his hand against her, he lifted his other hand to her face, urging her towards him
so he could kiss her. He used his tongue and fingers in sync, driving her to the brink of sanity. Kissing and touching her until she moaned with every breath.
"My name. Say my name again," he pleaded with her, suddenly needing to hear her voice when it was filled with the passion he incited.
They stared at each other until he circled the small nub at the top of her folds with his thumb. She shuddered violently and gave him what he needed.
"Max..." It was a moan. A long drawn out moan filled with need and formed by a voice husky and low with desire. It nearly broke his control. He kissed her hard then, crushing her lips underneath his
in a frenzy of lust. His tongue invaded her mouth urgently, tasting her, communicating his own needs. It was more than a kiss. It was a stamp of his ownership.
She twisted in his arms and tore at his shirt, ripping off buttons in her haste to get it off him. He didn't help, his hands were still occupied with her body. "Max!" This time his name was an
illustration of her frustration and he let go of her long enough to allow her to push the shirt from his shoulders. She slid off his thigh next, and her fingers dug into the waistband of his jeans,
finding the button and working it open. His hands dropped to his sides as he drank in her every movement, her every expression.
Her eyes were glazed and heavy as she worked his zipper down with clumsy and uncoordinated hands. She slid to her knees in front of him, clinging to his thighs and moving with him as he stumbled back
against the wall in reaction.
"Liz, honey..." His fingers speared into her hair, holding on for dear life as she tugged his jeans and boxers down his legs. Her nails scratched the skin of his thighs lightly, causing the muscles
to jump. He kicked the clothes out of the way impatiently, his hands trying to urge her back up, but she resisted. So he gave in to the inevitable, putting his hands against the wall behind his back
and praying that he would be able to stay upright.
She traced him with her eyes first. Following the length of him with her gaze until he was sure he was going to explode before she even touched him. She watched every flicker and pulse and every drop
of response that he couldn't control.
A moan started forming deep inside his chest when he saw her reach out her hand and it burst out when her finger traced the vain running on the underside of his arousal softly.
Now it was his turn to beg. Touch me, Liz! His mind cried helplessly. Please...
Her hand encircled him, carefully increasing the pressure until he jerked against her, unable to do anything but react. His breath rushed out of his lungs frantically as she leant in, nuzzling him
before touching the tip of her tongue to the moisture glistening just above her fingers. He threw his head back, closing his eyes and gave himself up to her ministrations. His body went on autopilot,
moving into her hands and mouth rhythmically until they both felt him tightening in preparation for release.
Her hands and mouth were suddenly gone, the air chilling the places she had just touched. Their eyes found each other and she whispered: "Not without me..."
He couldn't play this game anymore. He needed to be inside her with a desperation bordering on insanity. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her into their bedroom of many years and placed her
in the middle of the bed. He knelt next to her, staring down at her until she held out her hand. He let her pull him down to her and he carefully covered her body with his.
He wanted to complete his possession of her, but first he wanted to taste her. She gasped when he bent his head to her breast, letting his lips trail around her nipple. Her skin was soft and enticing
and smelled of him. His tongue skimmed the line underneath her breasts, and he rested his head in the valley between them breathing in their shared scent. He knew every inch of her breasts, it was,
after all, the first intimate place of her he got to know way back in high school. Her breasts have changed over the years as she went from being a teenager to an adult, from a wife to a mother and
he had made it his business to learn each minute difference with a passion. He had watched her breast-feed their children with envy, having trouble sharing this part of her that he felt he owned even
with his own children. He touched the tip of his tongue to her nipple, swirling it around her areola and marveling at the different textures. He kept his caresses up until her whimpers became
louder.
He nudged his thigh between hers and she parted her legs wordlessly, allowing him access to her core. But he didn't enter her immediately. Instead he moved slowly until his arousal just pressed into
her heat. She was starting to arch off the bed now, silently begging him to fill her, staring into his eyes, her gaze glittering with desire.
He loved watching her while they made love. The flush that covered her whole body, the small movements she made against him so instinctively that aroused him even further. Hearing her sighs and
moans, feeling her slick heat take him in inch by torturously slow inch. Seeing her eyes widen when he finally slid home, penetrating as deeply and completely as he could. Watching her eyes drift
shut as she gave herself up to the sensations racking her body.
She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles around his thighs and urged him into her.
He resisted only for the seconds it took him to whisper: "I love you," before making himself a part of her so resoundingly that it felt for a moment as if they would never be two separate beings
again. He felt her body contract around him, welcoming him and he held himself perfectly still. He always did that, waiting for her to make the first move.
All it took to hurl him into frantic action was a small shift in her body that increased the angle. She dug her nails into his shoulders, holding on as he moved inside her with barely restrained
violence. He braced one hand on the bed next to her head and curled the other around her waist, his hand finding the small of her back. He arched her into his thrusts, harder with each plunge.
She was moving against him desperately, striving for release. But he knew her too well. Knew every nuance of her body and the meaning behind every little movement she made. He wielded that knowledge
expertly, holding off that final oblivion so her explosion was mind-blowing and hard.
He watched with hooded eyes as she climaxed, riding out each shuddering contraction with her, listening to her cries with every convulsion. And only after she had started quieting down, did he let
himself go.
It was truly awesome experiencing him out of control and in the throes of an orgasm. He gave himself up to it with the same single-mindedness with which he loved her. Completely, totally,
overpoweringly. His body arched into hers, his eyes squeezed shut and her name tumbled from his lips like a litany. She loved splaying her hands over his back, feeling the play of his muscles with
every move.
They clung to each other afterwards, enjoying the little tremors that still coursed through their bodies. With their urgency dulled, they shared soft kisses, whispering of their love and their
happiness. Their eyes smiled at each other, enjoying the fact that they had had some alone time before Maria would drop off the kids from pre-school. Liz didn't even ask. She knew Max had come home
from work early with exactly this in mind. They had made a promise to each other when their kids were born that they would make an effort to still be lovers. That this special relationship between
them would not get lost in the responsibility of parenthood and careers.
"I love you, Max Evans." Seeing the way his eyes still light up at the words made her blink away a few stray tears. "Thank you for saving me that day."
"No, thank you, Liz Evans. For saving me every day since. For making me human and being my destiny." He rested his forehead against hers tenderly, relaxing with her as they waited for their children
to come home.
They had walked a long and hard road to win this peace and joy. And they would never take it for granted.
- The End -