Title: Home, Home on the Range
Author: Madam Laure, the Grateful Drinks are on the House!
Rating: NC17 to the Max (no, not the Maximus), baby
Warning: Gratuitous smuttiness between "you" and "him"
Disclaimer: Heck, why would there be one of those, no names are given. I own everything.
Dedication: To Emmy for taping Buffy and Angel for me after my WB station crapped out on me. It's so wonderful to have a Ho to fall back on...that didn't sound right.

You've had a long, hard day on the range, and all you want is a hot bath and a soft bed, maybe not even in that order. As you stumble into your surprisingly elegant homestead, the aroma of fresh bread fills your senses.

Your eyes light up at the sight of the feast laid before you--hot bread, stew, apple pie.

"You cook?"

He smiles at your incredulity, and helps you out of your dusty coat. "One of my many skills."

As you slump into a chair, sighing in pleasure to be off your sore feet, he drops to one knee and expertly tugs off a boot. His fingers slide over your foot, tickling the sensitive sole, massaging the callouses, and you sigh again.

"That feels so good," you croon helplessly, your eyes falling shut as he moves to the other foot to repeat the sensuous and soothing treatment.

"Don't fall asleep," he teases. "There'll be a hot bubble bath after you eat."

You coax one eye open and melt under his radiant smile. "Will you be joining me?"

"If you can stay awake."

"I can stay awake," you promise determinedly.

He grins even more as you sit upright in your chair and reach for your fork.

*****

After a delicious meal and some hot coffee--flavored with just a hint of rich chocolate--he helps you to your feet and guides you into the bathroom. Sitting you on your vanity stool, he turns on the water, before helping you undress. You flush beneath his avid gaze as he removes each layer, revealing surprisingly pale and pristine skin. His hands linger on your arms, feeling the softness of your elbows.

"Loofahs," you say before he can ask. Living in the Wild, Wild West can be hell on the skin, so there's a lot more that goes into keeping it soft and pink, but mystery is a good thing between a man and a woman.

Turning back to the tub, he pours in lavender scented bubble bath, and you inhale the rich scent. You feel some of your fatigue fade, and your desire begin to rise.

Rising to your feet, you slip into one end of the big tub, sighing loudly as the hot water immediately begins to erase the aches and pains of horseback riding and wrangling animals and outlaws.

He sheds his clothes quickly and you make a small pout as he's in the water beneath the bubbles before you barely have a chance to admire his lean nudity. He's gorgeous, clothed or not, and you hitch your breath in anticipation as you know you'll have plenty of time to see every inch of him.

Turning, you move between his legs and lean back against his chest, letting him support you. His arms wrap around your rib cage, his hands sliding under your breasts, lifting them out of the water. The nipples harden on contact with the cool air, and you can feel his response pressing against your back.

You smile and welcome the shiver of desire that swamps you.

He reaches for the soap and begins to rub it slowly along your arm, leaving a filmy sheen of bubbles in its wake. He repeats the motions with the other arm, then bathes your shoulders and collar bone before sliding the soap lower. As the bar tumbles into the water, he cups your breasts again, caressing the supple flesh as much as bathing it, and you arch into his touch, moaning softly. As you grip the sides of the tub, one of his hands slides over your belly and between your parted thighs.

"You're so beautiful, " he murmurs.

His touch is arousing such pleasure in you all you can do is moan again and writhe against him.

Chuckling, he pins you to him with his free hand and slips two fingers into your tight heat.

You gasp, your eyes widening, then falling shut, as you let him guide your pleasure, his expert fingers dancing within you, his thumb teasing the sensitive bud at the apex of your mound. His mouth touches your shoulder, your neck, dancing kisses over skin damp from steam, until finally, he nips the soft spot behind one ear, and you yelp and buck onto his fingers as a bolt of pleasure slams through you.

"Feels good?"

You growl helplessly, caught on the edge of orgasm, his fingers continuing to tease instead of pressing harder. Mindless, you reach back and lean forward at the same time, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Now he's the one moaning.

Suddenly, he's turning you, pulling you down on top of him. The water sloshes, some spilling onto the floor, but neither of you care. Wriggling against him, you rise on your knees, straddling his hips, and brushing your aching flesh against the tip of his shaft.

Leaning forward, he catches one of your aching nipples between his lips, suckling until you cry out softly and rotate your hips, driving his erection along your swollen cleft. Your bodies throb in rhythm, each needing the other.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift his head to kiss him hungrily, as his hands cup your bottom and slowly, torturously lower you onto his erection.

Your moans mingle into one long sound of pleasure as you rock together, slowly at first, then faster as your desire causes you to lose control. Clinging together, your slippery bodies sliding against each other, you continue to kiss, lips, teeth and tongue battling as you send more and more soapy water onto the floor. Long minutes of thrusting and retreating, caressing and teasing, kissing and nipping, moaning and loving pass as the passion between you builds until you're barely able to breathe and your hearts pound ferociously as one.

You feel him stiffen beneath you, his body going taut, and you break from the kiss to gaze into his eyes. They're molten with desire and you smile a slight, smirky smile as they glaze over. Your hips move faster, pumping him into you, your own desire making your eyes just as bright as his, and you cry out, your head flung back, your fingers tightening on his shoulders, as pleasure whips you.

He growls, then thrusts his hips upwards, driving you out of the water as he explodes into you. His pleasure sends you tumbling into your own and you shatter, your body shaking in ecstasy.

Together, you sink exhausted and panting into the remaining, cooling water. Eyes falling shut, you murmur into his shoulder, and he echos your words in your ear.

"Love you."

End