FanFic - Michael/Maria
"Homework and Dance Lessons "
Part 3
by hitchhiker
Disclaimer: The usual. The characters and Roswell don’t belong to me, but to WB, etc. I’m only borrowing them for a while!
Summary: After the brief truce they come to in Sexual Healing, our favorite couple reach a level of semi-comfort in their relationship. (Sigh, if M&M ever become completely comfortable with their lives and themselves, they wouldn’t be M&M!)
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: R
Authors Note: The narrative works in part through introspection, memory and flashback, but I haven’t put markers to indicate these moments because I think it spoils the effect. But any feedback is welcome. As for distribution, ask first!
Maria stirred when she heard the door click. “Michael?” she murmured, reaching out for him and finding the space next to her vacant. Sleepily, she flipped on her back and stretched. That was when she heard the voices from behind the door. Max and Isabel, she realized. What were they doing here? Then she heard Isabel’s sharp command, “Tell us everything.” and found herself wondering about Michael’s answer. What was he going to tell them?

Sometime during the dance last night, after the first deep kiss they had shared, he had drawn his mouth away from hers and planted feather kisses on her brow, her lids, her nose, her cheeks. Meanwhile, his hands had crept around her waist and his fingers had found themselves under the hem of her tank top. He moved them slowly and deliberately up her rib cage, feeling each ridge of bone, flesh and bare skin. Her nipples had hardened in immediate anticipation, her mind recalling a similar move in the eraser room on the week of the heatwave. One hand moved swiftly to her back to unfastened the clasp of her strapless bra, and deftly whisk it away. She shivered slightly as the rough fabric passed over the sensitive buds and raised both arms behind his neck to pull his face towards hers, their bodies still swaying to the beat of the music.

“Not yet,” he whispered, cupping his hands under her bare breasts along her rib cage, letting his fingers caress the soft, smooth skin on each side. His mouth continued to plant feather kisses around her mouth, inching ever closer to her full and quivering lips, which were parted slightly in anticipation, but never quite capturing them.

“Michael!”, she ground out in frustration, her eyes blazing. “Stop teasing me, dammit!” Her hands were at the small of his back now, supporting him as she crushed her hips against his. Michael groaned inwardly but kept his control. “Tell me what you want, Maria,” he breathed in her ear, his hands moving up her breasts and encircling the areolae. And stopped just there. Her fully erect nipples strained against the fabric of her top, and she arched her back involuntarily just so the tight little buds could feel the sensation and offer her momentary relief. Michael’s mouth was on one of her earlobes now, capturing it with a moist flick of the tongue before planting more wet kisses along her jawline towards her lips. Almost.

Ok, if that’s the game he wants to play. Maria was impatient. She would fight fire with fire. Her hands moved down from the small of his back to the waistband of his jeans, and pushed her fingers inside his boxers to touch his bare skin. She smiled with satisfaction at his small gasp, and answered his question, her voice husky with desire, barely getting the words out: “What -- I -- want?” She didn’t say another word but worked her hands around the waistband towards the front. And while one hand kept its fingers on the inside of the garment, the other had come out to pass over and cup the hard bulge that had formed in the front of his jeans. Alien or no, Michael was still a . . . guy.

She had the button-fly half undone, before she heard Michael’s voice again in her ear, “You’re a witch. Don’t stop.”

“Where’s my incentive?” she blinked innocently, pulling her occupied hand ever so slightly away.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Michael growled from deep within his throat.

At the exact moment his mouth met hers in full contact, his palms slid up to fully capture their prize, rubbing their rough texture back and forth against her tight nipples. The combination of the moist heat of his mouth against hers, his tongue fighting hers and tasting faintly of Tobasco sauce and chocolate, and his kneading hands, was just pure . . . exquisite . . . tor-ture.

Maria squeezed her eyes shut and had to bite her lip to hold back a scream as each palm was soon replaced by thumb and forefinger, tweaking the little knobs back and forth without mercy and his mouth was tracing a hot path down her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts . . .

“Michael . . .” She couldn’t do more but shudder his name, but when one small hand pushed his face closer to one breast, he didn’t need another invitation. Her small tank top flew over her head and landed . . . somewhere. She couldn’t think, couldn’t care. His mouth had closed over one nipple and was suckling it greedily, his tongue razing back and forth over the sensitive nub. Maria wasn’t prepared for the force of sensation that swept her, she gave a loud moan, and her knees buckled under her. She couldn’t stand up any longer.

Email Author | Back to FanFic Page
Part 4
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
Crashdown is maintained by and . Design by Goldenboy.
Copyright © 1999-2004 Web Media Entertainment.
No infringement intended.