Author: Minervacat
Fandom: LOTR RPF
Pairing: Karl/Miranda
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is all fiction and I don't know any of these people in real life. Much to my own dismay.
Summary: If he'd acted like last night had mattered, it might have been different.

Miranda wants to eat Karl alive. He's been sitting in the dark corner of the booth at the pub, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy, the collar of his shirt open, his hand wrapped loosely around the same pint he's been nursing all night. He hasn't said a word to her all night and not more than he had to on set today but he rested a hand on the back of her neck when he passed her on his way to the bar, all the acknowledgement she's gotten of last night's frantic, humid kisses in his car.

This is a challenge. Mirry wants to take him home and tie him to her bed and possess him completely. She wants to devour him. She dreamt about it last night, alone in her flat, her hand between her own legs.

If he'd acted like last night had mattered, it might have been different.

Four beers (for her) and one (for him) later, she's tugging him up the stairs to her flat, air humid in the stairwell, their fingers laced together tightly, and he stops to press her against the wall, the railing digging in the small of her back, his hands in her hair and his mouth all over her neck.

This is not how she'd wanted any of this to be, she'd thought Karl was slow and languid behind his smoky eyes and she could make him hers, do everything the way she wanted to, but she's helpless to resist now, her head tilted back so he can lick along that spot belong her jaw. The hand that isn't wrapped through the belt loops on his jeans clenches and unclenches without her noticing, her keys clattering down the stairs and startling them both.

His eyes are dark when he looks down at her, and she thinks she can endorse the bruise she knows is blooming on her collarbone if Karl just keeps staring at her like that.

This is not a conjugal visit, not quick and dirty, making the most of the small amount of time they have, it's lazy and liquid and rough and everything Mir thought Karl was hiding behind his silence, his dark eyes. His mouth on her breasts, tongue licking her nipples and teeth tugging just enough to hurt through the bliss. Her hands on his cock, stroking slowly, his breath hot and panting against the curve of her neck. Karl between her thighs, his mouth on her cunt, and coming so hard she'd seen stars behind her eyes. Bruises on his biceps from her teeth, biting down as he slid inside her, biting down as she rode out another orgasm, seconds before he groaned her name into the side of her neck and came with a shudder.

When they finally collapse against each other for the last time, bodies exhausted and sore and satiated, the walls are starting to turn pink with the sunrise. He kisses her neck, wraps an arm around her, and falls asleep with his face pressed into her hair.

She falls asleep and doesn't dream at all.