Learning to Live

Author's Note (yes, again): I do apologize for the lack of updates. There was a move to another state, as I believe was mentioned in an earlier chapter, there was also a massive loss of a harddrive -MINE- which caused me much stress and hysterical bouts of gibbering trying to recover lost data, and also the lack of general inspiration. Not that we don't love this story, but the zone has to be there, y'know?



But be happy in the knowledge that I've gotten back all of the written story and am working diligently on editing to get it posted here for the readers. I can't thank you guys enough -and Nadie too- that our work is appreciated. We do so try. Anyway, enjoy!



As usual, please overlook the errors and the like; I've still no beta reader. If anyone wants to volunteer, PLEASE DO SO!



Just so's we know, I want to personally dedicate this chapter to Darknitedestiny, since she said she'd "kick my ass" if I didn't update soon. Here you go, hun! Grab a cup o' tea and enjoy; there's more to come! ~SM




****************




Vincent:



They’d never be able to make this right. Tifa wasn’t one to just let things slide off her back. Vincent had learned that skill years ago, by duress and necessity. But he was suddenly tired of trying to justify it. There was no justification for it, damnit.



He straightened and went around to the other side of the bar. Striding to her, he gently took her hands and pulled her from the stool, offering support to her shaky legs. Fuck words; they were useless anyway. Vincent’s dark head lowered and he kissed her, mouth muffling any sounds of protest. His tongue thrust between her lips to coil around and fondle her own as long arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him.



Maneuvering her back against the counter, he shoved the plate and utensils to the side and deposited her upon it, firmly ensconcing himself between her knees as he slid her tight to him, never breaking contact with her mouth. Rather than just fuck her right there atop the counter, he released her mouth and rested his forehead against her chin.



“Don’t think I don’t want you, Tifa,” he rasped huskily, nipping at the fluttering pulse in her throat. “This probably wasn’t the best thing to happen between us right now, but I do not regret a moment of it.”



He bit his tongue on further words and red eyes closed as he leaned against her, arms wrapped about her hips. Lifting his head to place a smooth kiss against her cheek, he whispered at the corner of her mouth, “Shower with me, before we leave."



Tifa:



The last thing she'd thought he would do turned out to be exactly what he did. As she was hauled atop the bar, Vincent's tongue wiggling its way into her mouth, Tifa moaned half in frustration. She should be mad at him, should tell him that if he didn't want last night to be more he should stop touching and kissing her. Should have, but couldn't.



Legs that still hurt wrapped around what she could of him, aches ignored under the swell of need that reminded her she hadn't been fully sated last time. Breathless by the time he pulled his mouth from hers, Tifa panted his name in something torn between pleading and frustrated. A look at him, and as he spoke she realized that a little more lust and affection shared between friends was perhaps not a bad idea. Bad timing, probably. Not the best circumstances, certainly.



One shower couldn't hurt.



"Alright," she breathed, arms draped around his neck. "But I'm not sure you won't have to carry me to the car afterward."



Not that she'd mind, if it got her another orgasm like what she'd had on his floor. Hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him back up for another kiss.



Vincent:



A chuckle reverberated in his chest. “Don’t worry. The aches and pains won’t last for very long.” He spoke further, but the words were muffled by her delicious lips, reattaching themselves to his.



With a groan, Vincent pulled her legs around his waist and lifted her, transporting them both down the hall to the bathroom. Their lips still entangled, he slid her down his body to lightly put her feet on the floor, growling against her lips, “Turn the water on while I fetch towels.”



Stepping into the hall, he did just that, returning with two large towels from the hall closet. He spied her leaning inside the shower door, fiddling with the knobs. Gorgeous woman, he thought, Cloud is such an inept fool.



Kicking off his pants, he stepped up behind her, hands clasping her waist and pulling her back against him as he nipped at her neck. Hn, this was so much better than remaining cold and aloof. Yes, and I’m sure your orgasm will be just as screaming as before, gunslinger, he heard Chaos snark.



Suppressing a growl, barely, Vincent splayed fingers along Tifa’s hips and ushered her into the shower; thankfully the water was already warm. He closed the door behind them and smirked down at her, reaching for the soap and rubbing it between his hands. “Well, we need to get you clean, don’t we?” he observed clinically. “Any preferences where I should begin first, Miss Lockheart?”



Tifa:



She bit her lip against the sound that came when he pulled her back against him, kissing her neck and letting her feel the hard body that was again ready for her. The warmth of the water soothed her flesh, but wouldn't offer her satiation. That she would only get from him, she knew.



An impish grin appeared at his question, she standing straight and puffing her chest out, as if it needed to gain more attention. Feminine hands pushed upwards over her breasts, letting them return to their original position with a small bounce as her hands slid up to pull her hair around, laying it over one shoulder. She turned around, her back to him and her hands braced on the shower wall suggestively, legs spread just enough.

"You can start on my back," she said casually.



As if to explain her position (which was obviously meant for more than a scrubdown), she added, "I like it hard, by the way." She could use the massage, more than the cleansing affect, and his hands seemed just the perfect tools.



Vincent:

Smoldering red eyes watched Tifa’s tactile suggestions and he couldn’t help but smirk. Shrugging, Vincent lathered his hands and took a step closer, wedging them both beneath the warm spray of soothing water, letting the stream run over her back. Placing both hands on her shoulders, he kneaded the lather over her skin, strong fingers carefully working at the muscles beneath. Over her arms, back again, dipping over her collar and running halfway down her spine.



Pausing to soap his hands again, he began where he’d left off, splaying fingers against her ribs as his hands moved in small circles over her flesh. Unable to help himself, Vincent slid his hands around to soap her stomach, running his hands just beneath her breasts, but not touching. Fingers trailed over her abdomen, working out the knots still in her body.



Coming back to the original task, he lathered his hands again and smoothed both over her hips, fingers grasping the rounded flesh of her rump before sliding down the sides of her thighs. Not bothering to resoap his hands, he slid one between her legs, seeking fingers entangling in wet curls before finding slick silky heat.



Vincent’s free hand crept up to cup a breast, pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger as the hand between her legs thrust two digits deep inside her and his teeth bit sharply into her neck. Licking at the abused skin before nipping yet again, he ground at her ear, “Ride them, Tifa, ride them hard.”



Pushing her further against the wall and pressing against her back, Vincent thrust his fingers harder, shoving them into her and dragging both back at a torturous pace, letting them scrape along delicate flesh with rough abandon.




Tifa:



Tifa's back bowed at his attentions, head falling back to let long hair get caught in the steady shower as he worked over her front. She braced herself harder when his hands wandered low and her breath caught when they brushed her folds, then began roughly penetrating. Forehead against the shower wall, Tifa groaned and panted as her body clenched and pulled at the invading fingers, feeling so thoroughly wanton. Already weak legs began to buckle, but sandwiched between his firm body and the wall, she remained upright. Her hips moved as best she could, instinct returning with the hunger he'd rekindled.



"Vincent..." she panted, wanting something more inside her than just his fingers, for her body remembered well the way he filled her, with something more substantial than what his hands - even skilled as they were - could offer. She tried to turn, but found her body unwilling, and instead ground her supple bottom against what she really wanted.




Vincent:



Groaning deep in his chest as she slipped and slid against him, Vincent worked his fingers a mite rougher, suckling at her neck. His other hand continued to knead and fondle her breasts. Planet, but she heated his blood to fever pitch, it was damning, this feeling.



He withdrew his fingers, arms sliding around her waist as one thigh slipped between her parted legs, gripping her hips to maneuver her over his already-throbbing erection. Breathing between clenched teeth as his hard length rubbed against her waiting heat, Vincent groaned her name and tilted her head to kiss her sloppily, tongue running around her mouth before thrusting between her lips. Wedging one hand between their bodies to guide his shaft to her entrance, he suddenly slammed his hips forward, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her.



A hand lifted her thigh, supporting her leg as he spread her wide, dragging almost out of her only to batter forward again, driving them both against the shower wall. Dragging his lips from hers, he panted and groaned at her ear, biting and suckling at whatever silken skin he could reach as he just took her beneath the soothing spray.




Tifa:



She gasped and jerked when he entered her at last, filled completely in pain and pleasure. Inner muscles offer only the slightest protest against further abuse, then welcomed him with quivering constrictions of wet silk. One hand reached behind her to snatch a handful of his hair, her other sliding down her body body to twist and rub at the small, nearly sore pearl of nerves that cried out for equal treatment.



She almost slipped when he lifted her leg, but again he held her in place. Even the sound of the shower's spray couldn't drown out the wet slap of their bodies as he fucked her, and Tifa found herself shaking as fire built low in her once more. Whimpers begged for more, passing into high mewls of his name and unintelligible words.



"More," she panted, one of the only recognizable sounds. The foot that remained on the shower floor was tired of standing on tip-toe, and instead reached back to rub the back of his calf, trusting his strength to support her weight. Gods, he was doing it so rough, and so perfectly at the same time. The smaller spikes of pleasure that preceded climax began to throb within her, and Tifa both worked herself harder with her own fingers and bucked with increased urgency against his hips. She was painfully close...



Vincent:



She was so tight. So tight it nearly made him weep with the beauty of it. He jerked and grunted as she pulled his hair, the sudden sharp pain spiraling straight to his groin, making him thrust harder inside her. He nipped her ear sharply, adjusting her weight across his arms as she wrapped around him. Gripping her waist with one arm, the other snuck around her front to join her own fingers, rubbing against the aching bundle with intensity.



Vincent’s lithe powerful hips snapped forward and slid backwards, swiveling her atop him to stroke different places deep inside her.



“I meant what I said, Tifa,” he growled, low at her ear. “I could fuck you forever and never get enough.”



A strangled groan forced his head back as he felt himself swell inside her as he bucked, pressure increasing in both his brain and his member. He pressed harder inside her, remaining so for several seconds before sliding out, then repeating the action over and over. As his length retreated, he teased her with a finger, purring at her ear as she bounced against him, “Tifa, come for me...”



Tifa:



With his arm around her waist, Tifa leaned harder against the wall, enough that he had to take one step back so her body could be adjusted to ride higher against him, legs wrapping around his slick body as best she could. Raw groans emanated from low in her throat. She cried out when those skilled fingers joined hers, and she retreated to allow him to replace them. Both her hands now clawed at his waist, scraping over whatever soft skin could be found.



"You are more than welcomed to, Vincent," she said to his first words. His next, combined with such achingly slow strokes, pushed her ever closer to culmination. She could feel him swelling within her, reaching so many wonderful spots and rubbing so hard against every one.

Come for me, Tifa.



And shattering, quaking against and around him, she did. Shrieking his name, legs locked behind his as she drove herself down hard on the shaft within her, bucking, writhing and jerking against him spasmodically. Nails dug into his hips as she turned her head, twisted just enough to bite his neck and muffle her moans against his skin. By the Planet, the crest of her pleasure was so harsh, this time.



Vincent:



Vincent held her as she writhed, teeth clenched to hold off his own release until the pain of doing so frothed in his mind. But the quick tightening of her body drove him over the edge of oblivion and a low scream ripped from his throat as her teeth scored his neck, making him drive faster and harder into her before slamming them both against the tile as he shuddered into her.



Defined muscles quivered as he shook, fingers tightening on her flesh. Gasping her name roughly at her ear, Vincent felt himself flood her deep inside, the constriction of her muscles milking him even more as white flashes streamed before crimson eyes. Only with her, his mind frothed. Only with her.



Still shivering, he felt reality return as he tasted blood in his mouth from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek. The water was cool to highly sensitive, scorching skin and he eased Tifa back to her feet, placing a soft kiss to her shoulder. Turning her slowly to face the spray, he adjusted the showerhead to stream over her chest and torso, cleaning away the slick fruits of well-spend passion.



Behind her Ssill, arms around her waist, he roughly inquired, “Do you still wish to return home?” He wished he could take the question back the moment he uttered it. The faster she was gone from here, the faster he could obliterate the memory of their interlude. But even Vincent wasn’t immune to loneliness, although it had taken quantities of alcohol and a friend’s need for companionship to discover that fact.




Tifa:



Still trembling in afterglow, Tifa put up no fuss or fight as he turned and washed her, so long as she could lean against him. Eyes stayed shut until the stars and sparks behind her lids faded and she could open them to see his face as her head lay back against his shoulder. The warm water fell almost unnoticed against flesh that, just now, had been far more impressed with his hands. One of her own curled lazily in the wet strands of his hair and she murmured honestly.



"No..." Then, a wistful sigh with a satisfied smile. "I want to stay and crawl back into your bed." Yet there was reality to think about. "But I have work to do at home... I'm already behind." She just couldn't let the door creak closed again, against all her better judgment saying, "... but Sundays are good."




********************


To be Continued...