Warning: The following entry contains Ex-turtle p0rn and many typos. Proceed with caution.

[mnt_raph]

*There's no real set schedule for the security team, as such Raph has decided that tonight is off duty tonight. He's just enjoying a quiet night, flipping through a couple of magazines he picked up when he went tooling around New York with Andrew. Huh, he thinks to himself, I haven't seen Andrew in ages. Wonder how he's doing?*

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[mnt_raph]

*His eyes are closed when she first looks, but as a the growl turns almost into a purr, they open. He takes advantage of their current position, sliding her shirt up and over her head, then makes his move. He rolls, an action that ends with her pinned underneath him, both wrapped up in a blanket.*

[locks_it_up]

There's another gulp of laughter.

Then she leans up, to kiss his lips roughly, with a clash of teeth before the warmth and the wet, and she slides her hands from the back of his shoulders down to his hips, lingering at the waistband of his pants, her thumbs grazing above his hipbones.

It's not quite like being tickled.

She's smiling into his mouth.

[mnt_raph]

*His kiss matches hers in ferocity. What he lacks in skill, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. That is until the not quite tickling begins.

Where he was leisurely propped up on his elbows before, he is now braceing himself against an onslaught he can't escape. Twitching only seems to make it worse.

He catches her bottom lip gently between his teeth.*

this...is..sooooo unfair...

[locks_it_up]

She makes a small sound in the back of her throat. It might be laughter. Might.

...south africa. a woman is shot in the street. she is there...

And she arches up against him as he takes her lip in his teeth, and her belly against his-- hers soft and cool, his hard and scarred and hot-- and she can feel his pulse through her skin, and she gasps at it.

One hand moves from just above his hips to tangle in his hair, and she murmurs into his ear before she covers his earlobe with her lips...

"Never... claimed... to be... fair..."

[mnt_raph]

...this..is...true

*He manages between gasps. His arms threaten to give way, and he tries his best to shift so he won't crush her when they do.

Her skin. Her touch. Her kiss. It's all far too much for him to handle. He is a man of many triggers, and many of them are dangerously close to being tripped.

And yet, it's still not enough. Hands that are usually deft, now fumble with the clasp of her trousers.*

[locks_it_up]

She goes to help him, lying there like something half-peeled, rough black denim giving way to the (bone? porcelain? milk?) white of her skin. There is the ankh, resting between her breasts, a weight over where her heart should be.

And she's laughing. It's a throaty sort of laugh, full of smoke and sweat.

She reaches her hands up to cup his face, and her kiss is now devestatingly sweet.

[mnt_raph]

*The once all important trousers are now forgotten as he devotes himself to the kiss, pulling away to look at her. Hair amuss, heart pounding, and with a slow smile forming on his lips.*

You're not laughing at me are you?

*His hands roam across her exposed skin, resting atop the ankh on her chest, and then under it.*

[locks_it_up]

She shivers under his touch, at the warmth of his hands, at the thrum of his pulse. Another smile, impossible to read entirely, and she leans up to kiss the tip of his nose.

"No. Not at you."

...bosnia. a teenaged girl smiles at a bird as the light goes out of her eyes. she is there...

Her fingers tremble as they move to the waist of his pants and begin the process of unfastening them. Which is, really, more difficult than she thought it'd be.

Especially with his hands on her like... oh my... like that. She kisses the side of his neck in appreciation, trailing up to the corner of his jaw.

[mnt_raph]

*He chuckles low in appreciation of her appreciation, hands teasing their way down her torso to rest on her stomach, relishing the way her body responds as he moves.

His hands find their way to the waist, thumbs locking in the beltloops of her jeans. Trembling, he begins to slowly remove them, kissing his way down her body as he does so.*

[locks_it_up]

She gasps, or makes a noise that's close to it, and her hips roll off the bed, braced on one elbow, the other tangled in his hair.

Oh, she's smiling. She's looking at him with her eyes alight, the flesh of her belly squirming involuntarily under his lips.

There's these tiny noises, somewhere between a laugh and a gasp and a moan... and she realizes it's coming from her own throat. This is nice. This is very, very nice.

[mnt_raph]

*He stops momentarily glancing up at her, a lazy smile on his lips. A smile that slowly broadens against her skin. He chuckles again, his breath causing goosebumps to spread across her stomach.

He pulls the blankets around them, and with a smirk, retreats underneath them, picking up where he had previously left off.*

[locks_it_up]

And then it gets a whole lot nicer.

A whole lot nicer.

Oh yes. That's some nice right there.

She's clutching at the pillow behind her head, and sound from her throat is a joyous crowing. If it could be articulated, it might go something like "Whoo hoo hooo!"

...mexico. an old farmer's heart gives out in the middle of the field. she is there...

Like all women, she tastes of the sea. (What sort of sea is difficult to say.) Wet against wet and slick against slick, and it fits in more ways than it ought.

"Oh, Raph... Raph... thank you..."

[mnt_raph]

*When her cries and moans have all been spent, he slips out from beneath the blanket, and removes his fatigues, tossing them on the floor. They sit there for all of five seconds before the the tent cleans, folds, and puts them away.

He pulls back the covers just enough to return to the bed and not disturb her. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. The only thing between them is the ankh he wears around his neck.*

[locks_it_up]

She nuzzles against his neck, laughing, remembering when the days were young and Delight would follow Desire.

It's very much like that.

"You are a beautiful creature, Raphael."

She lets her fingers flutter against his jaw and kisses him, long and slow and languorous.

[mnt_raph]

lies. all lies.

*He says against her mouth, between kisses. His hands are slightly rough, and they scratch slightly as they slide on her back*

[locks_it_up]

And, you know, she had control up until about here.

There's something that happens when his hands scrape up against her back. She can't give it a name, but it might be loosely interpeted as a pounce.

She pins him to the bed, a knee to each side of his hips. There's something absolutely relentless in the way she moves...

...until she pulls back to look down on him, and smile. It's like the sun coming out.

At that moment, she is there and only there.

[mnt_raph]

*She's just too fast, there's no time for any sort of reaction save for the full body shiver that comes from having a beautiful woman pin you to your own bed.

He looks up. Her smile is infectious. He wants to sit up, to be closer, but she's sitting on him in such a way that he can't move. He tries to reach out, but his arms are pinned as well.

His thumbs begin to trace a pattern on the only part of her he can touch, her inner thighs.*

Happy?

[locks_it_up]

"Very much."

She arcs her hips like a cat arcs its back when he touches her, letting his arms up before falling gently back against him.

Moments do not last...

...india. a child dies of malnourishment in his mother's arms. she is there...

She takes his mouth again, very gently this time. Almost a whisper of a kiss. The breath of a cry older than worlds.

[mnt_raph]

*The first thing he does with his newly freed hands is run then through her hair, and from there down the back of her neck to her shoulders. Eagerly, he follows her lead, but pulls her closer with each kiss, until she is comfortably on top of him.*

Good.

[locks_it_up]

She sighs happily, and lets her fingers run over and down his chest, skittering over scars old and new.

And then her lips are tracing his features, her breath-- can it be called breath?-- stirring his eyelashes.

Her lips will be sore in the morning from kissing.

[mnt_raph]

*He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. The resulting happy sigh is punctuated by a series of small twitches, and the occasional soft chuckle, his body's natural reaction her her feather light touch.*

[locks_it_up]

"Raph?"

Her hands. Oh, her hands. So very small, and white, and could be delicate, if you didn't know...

"Look at me."

She takes him inside of her.

There are no words. There are simply no words.

His heart stops. He can feel it stop moving in his chest.

And then her hands trace his shoulders, down his arms, caress the inside of his wrists, and her fingers twine with his.

And it starts again.

[mnt_raph]

*When she calls for him to open his eyes, he does not expect what follows. He can't breathe, there is too much, there is just too much. The world goes still. The voices in his head for once are silent. There is nothing but her.

When he heart restarts it's roars in his ears. He grips her hands, hard...almost a little too hard. A ragged breath excapes, taking with it a low moan he wasn't even aware he was capable of making.

She's very nearly breaking him, and it's still not enough.*

[locks_it_up]

She surrounds him and holds him and is gripping him... and holding his hands just as tightly.

Her face is beyond smiling.

...japan. a girl falls from a tower. she is there...

And then, with all the inexorable force of the waves, she begins to move.

[mnt_raph]

*He tries to smile back at her, but even something as simple as that is beyond his reach once she begins to move. His senses overload.

His head falls back onto the pillow, as his eyes roll back and close. Despite this, his grip doesn't waver, hands locked on hers. Panting he some how manages to whisper her name.*

death...