14 | Thoughts Become Actions

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Daisy's contact in the caravan would be back in less than a week with news about Duncan.

Aurora was still confused on why MacCready had given her the toy soldier Lucy had made him. It was very important to him, so she would be sure to take care of it, but why give it to her if it meant that much to him? He had said before that he needed to learn to give instead of take, so this could've been the start; simple, but she had a feeling that it wasn't that simple. Did it mean anything, or was she just looking too deep into it, hoping for a more personal reason?

To escape a radstorm, they ducked into the Boston Public Library and had to kill Super Mutants and haywire Protectrons and machine gun turrets to make it safer. With everything dead, they went exploring; the majority of the books they found were burned or ruined, but they found a few with legible ink.

Aurora stood in one of the many study rooms with broken chairs and long tables. She finished reading the short children's story about a thief and a princess and sat the book on the table. Lightning cracked viciously outside, and the boom vibrated the walls; Aurora glanced at the crusted-over windows, only to see it green outside.

"Sounds like a bad one," MacCready commented as he walked in.

"At least we found a good place to bunker down for the night if we have to," she said.

"In a library?" He looked at her. "Think we'll get smarter?"

She chuckled. "Don't get your hopes up."

MacCready turned to face her. "And what does that mean?"

She met his eyes for a second before hastily looking down—she couldn't let him see her feelings for him. "Nothing; nothing at all."

"Why do you do that now: not look me in the eye?"

"Maybe I'm just tired of looking at your face," she said as she turned away. And not kissing it.

A hand suddenly pulled her back around; she collided with MacCready's chest. He was right at her face, his hot breath uneven and eyes heavy; a hand of his slipped down her back to hold her to him.

"Maybe I'm tired of not kissing yours."

His mouth found hers hungrily; she kissed him back just as fervently. One hand kept her secured to him; the other slid into her hair and gripped her neck. He used his body to guide her back to where she bumped into a table. MacCready's lips never left hers as she climbed up on the table; once settled, he quickly closed the distance by stepping between her legs and seizing her face with both hands.

Aurora had long fantasized about this, but where they were finally hit her; when she pulled her lips from his, MacCready set to kissing his way down her neck. She moaned in pleasure; he pressed up even more against her and she could feel the rising of his desire on a thigh. The way things were steadily going, he was going to have her on the table.

"Here?" she asked breathlessly.

"Why not?" came his response some breaths later.

"What if someone comes in?"

He murmured his indifference against her.

"With guns?"

MacCready stopped and looked at her—his blue eyes feverish with lust. "You want me to shut the door?"

She glanced back at it: the splintered double doors barely hung on their hinges—one even had half of its top ripped off. They wouldn't do much shielding them from view.

Aurora pulled his face back to hers. "Forget it; they're broken anyway."

His lips recaptured hers, then she felt his hands skim over her waist, tracing every curve with authority. She found it hard to breathe with just his simple touch; her breathing was ragged, desperate. He caressed her like she had always been his.

A hand of his found its way around her armor and under her shirt. Her breath caught as his hand teasingly touched her skin from her stomach up to a breast. When the hand found its destination and fingers caressed her nipple, pleasure shuddered through her. After kneading one, it moved to give the same treatment to the other.

Aurora was fully aware of the liquid fire pooling between her thighs; she knew only MacCready could extinguish it. She rubbed against his thigh as a hand slid down to the bulge in his pants; she felt it on the outside then slipped the hand inside. Now it was his turn to catch his breath as her fingers found MacCready's pulsing manhood, curled around it, and slowly slid up and down the long shaft.

MacCready's drawn-out moan was a mixture of pure delight and an animalistic growl. He pulled his lips away from hers to draw a heavy breath; his body had gone still, focused only on her giving pleasure to his manhood. Aurora smiled as she picked up the speed and begun to twist.

MacCready could take no more of that; he pushed her back on the table, removing her hand from his engorged member. His mouth claimed hers as his hands fumbled with unbuttoning her pants; she helped him remove them and her panties. The cold air wasn't able to touch her fevered skin before his fingers slipped into her curls. Aurora nearly jolted off the table as a finger slid into her. She moaned as his finger set a circular motion.

Every thought, every sense was centered on his finger—a Deathclaw could come storming into the room, and she wouldn't know. His tongue began to thrust and retreat; inside, his finger mimicked the repetition. She matched him, her body twisting and rising with every movement in their intimate dance. She couldn't remember her first time at all, but she would never forget MacCready.

Enough of this maddening teasing. She needed him now.

"MacCready, please..." she begged.

His hand disappeared; she wasn't able to moan in displeasure before another pressure replaced it, much thicker and hotter. MacCready groaned as he slid into her; he took a moment to enjoy being in her, then he withdrew and thrust again. Aurora had never felt something so fulfilling as all of MacCready in her.

MacCready had his forehead against hers, breathing harshly and looking into her eyes. He maintained his rhythm, the rigid column parting her swollen flesh and nudging deeper, ever deeper with each pull and return. His rhythm gradually sped up as their passion grew more intense. She grew close to climaxing and could tell by the tension in his form that he was, too.

With his next thrust, her hands clenched in MacCready's hair as she felt the building tension of her orgasm. Then she cried out as it exploded, sending molten waves of sensation surging along every vein and leaving her drained but warm.

MacCready pumped even harder in an urgent need to join her. Her still-rippling release helped him unleash his own and sent him into the same pleasured oblivion.


***


Aurora had no idea the flames of their desire for each other had grown so hot; now with them quenched and turned into smoldering embers, it was time to enjoy their burn. They had both been holding themselves back, and they ended up with an explosion. MacCready lay atop her, still recovering his breath; she was still dazed too.

After steadying his breathing, MacCready pushed himself up off her. She wanted him back on her, but at least now she could breathe better. He helped her sit up then with putting on her clothes. She wasn't embarrassed about anything, but he remained quiet like he wasn't sure he didn't overstep.

"Did I say it out loud about not kissing you?" she asked.

He looked at her. "No. I've been asking myself why I hadn't kissed you yet."

They both laughed at their own stubbornness. "Well, they say great minds think alike..."

"I guess they do." MacCready looked at her. "Do you know how badly I've wanted to do that?"

She got closer to him. "So, why did you wait?"

He pressed his forehead against hers. "Why did you?"

She smiled with him as she met his kiss.        

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