Price's Beard

Price's Beard

The rain continued to pour down outside the dimly lit cabin. The sky, dark and cold, a sharp contrast compared to the warmth of the fire that crackled in the hearth. Its light casting flickers of gold across the worn wood. Your bare legs rubbed against the rug that adorned the small room and you hummed in content pleasure.

Price sat on the floor, back against the seat of a leather armchair, one leg outstretched and the other bent to allow his forearm to rest on his knee. His glass of scotch held lazily in his fingers by the rim. You curled up between his legs, into his bare chest. Both your clothes, discarded and soaking wet, by the front door. Except Price was kind enough to offer you his hoodie. It was the only dry article of clothing to be found. The smell of cigars still clung to the fabric. 

You gently snatched the glass from his hand and took a sip. Not your preference. Though, it did give you the illusion of warmth as the scotch spread through you. You swirled the liquid inside, captivated by how the flickering firelight danced upon the amber hues, enchanting you with its glow.

“Beautiful…” You said absentmindedly.

Price grabbed the glass and sat it on the side table next to the chair. You peered up at him with a half hearted pout. He tilted his head, eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when he was calculating something. His beard, still damp from the storm, framed a slow, knowing smile as his eyes held yours.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you murmured, your voice low, like the way you’d speak in a church or a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

“Just thinking how lucky I am,” he said. His voice was gravelly and low, softened only by the hint of affection behind it. “Not many get something like this.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a finger along the curve of his cheek and temple, where the firelight danced in his eyes. “You say that like you haven’t earned it.”

He hummed quietly. Though, you weren’t sure whether it was in agreement or not, because his head dipped down to place a slow and soft kiss on your lips. 

You let your fingers trail into his damp hair as the kiss deepened. The heat between you both rising. There was no rush in your movements, only a slow, reverent exploration, as if this moment was all that mattered, and there was nowhere else you'd rather be than right here.

Price’s hand cupped the back of your head as his other hand glided up from your thigh to your hip. His thumb skimmed the frayed edge on the hoodie. As though asking for permission. You brought your leg up closer, a silent plea. 

He understood your unspoken desire. His hand roamed, stopping briefly to allow a small squeeze of your plush rear, before continuing up your back. 

Your hands had their own exploring to do. One hand tangled in his hair, while the other pressed firmly into the strength of his chest. Your fingers lovingly weaved through the blanket of hair that adorned his torso. 

His thumb drifted along the curve of your breast before his whole hand found it. That calloused thumb brushing over your nipple, elicited a small moan from your lips. Price smiled into your kiss. Pulling away by only a breath.

Your eyes fluttered open and the expression he wore was one of heavy lidded desire and quiet worship. As though you were a deity to be placed upon an altar. 

“Beautiful…” He said on a breath, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 

Adjusting your both, he lowered you onto the rug, your hair spilling out around you like ink in water as he said, “Let me take my time.”

With your back to the floor, he positioned himself between your legs. You could see the outline of his erection in his boxers from here and desperately wanted to reach out for it. To feel its heat in your palm. But then, he pulled the hoodie up. Revealing your stomach. His lips placed delicate kisses on of it. You arched your back and allowed him to push the fabric up further to reveal your breasts to the glow of the firelight. 

His mouth found those with ease too. Slow and soft. As though he intended to kiss every inch of your skin in a show of worship. 

Your hands gripped the fabric of the hoodie, bringing it to your mouth and biting down on it as his mouth found your hard and wanting nipple. He sucked and licked and nipped. All the while his hands roamed over your exposed flesh. One of them dipped between your legs and that thumb once again taunted you with its delicate touch. Skimming through your folds until it found your clit.

Your mouth released the fabric of the hoodie to let out a breathy sigh, his name fluttering off your lips like a prayer.  

“That’s it…” Price said in between his ministrations of your breast, “Say my name like it's the only thing you know.”

He moved his hands up to completely remove the hoodie. Your body, now entirely bare for him. The fire crackled, a soft soundtrack to the way he stared at you with reverence, each movement unhurried, deliberate. His eyes never left yours, not even as he kissed his way lower, down through the valley of your breasts, over your ribs, pausing to savor every inch.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, his lips parted with anticipation, and then he vanished between your legs.

When his tongue slid through your folds you arched up with a soft gasp. Your hand tangled in his thick hair, the scratch of his beard drawing a sharp, delicious contrast to the warmth of his tongue.

He didn’t rush. No part of him ever did. He explored you slowly, as if he were learning you, memorizing every tremble and sigh. 

His name left your mouth again, as though he were deity now. When his lips found your clit, your thighs reflexively clenched around his head. His musing never wavered. 

You could barely keep her eyes open, watching the silhouette of his broad shoulders shifting with every movement, his grip firm around your thighs, holding you open, grounding you as you drifted into another plane of existence.

His rhythm was practiced and true. Increasing his momentum with every one of your whimpers until he found the right speed. The one that made both your hands grip his hair. The one that made your back arch and pushed stars into your vision. 

A surge of pleasure spread out from your core washed over you. A high pitched cry escaped the back of your throat. Piercing through the night like a firework. You bucked your hips up and clenched around nothing, but Price kept you in place with his firm grip. He didn’t stop his tongue until you had shakingly come down from your high. His eyes, watching you from below like a predator. 

Your hands released their grip on his hair and your back relaxed into the rug. Only then did Price pull himself from between your thighs. His forearms were braced on the floor and your legs were lazily hanging from his shoulders.

You glanced down at him and immediately covered your face at the sight of him, “Oh my god…your face…” You said with an embarrassed laugh.

He chuckled, “One of bliss I would imagine.”

You shook your head and peeked at him through your fingers, “No! Your beard…it’s…it's covered in, well…me.”

He laughed wholeheartedly and brought a hand up to wipe his chin. Where a slick and glossy sheen covered his beard. 

“Well…” He said in a low baritone, “What a nice problem to have.” 

You sat up on your forearms and stared at him as he licked his fingers clean, “Stop that.” You said with a click of your tongue.

He arched a brow at you, “Well, I need to clean it up somehow.”

You gave him a lopsided smile, that didn’t convey the scorn that you wanted, “Maybe you should shave your beard.”

He chuckled, low and menacing, “Not happening…but I think I can make a compromise by just shaving the chin.”

You threw your head back and laughed with your whole chest, “The great Captain Price is actually going to shave part of his beard off?”

Price adjusted himself and crawled up to meet your gaze head on. You stopped your laughs, and bit your bottom lip to fight back your unbridled smile.

“If it means I can taste your sweet cunt every night, then I would.”

Then, he kissed you with a deep and unfiltered passion. One that spoke again of that reverence. The taste of you still lingered on his lips. This time, nothing held you back. Your hand found his throbbing cock through the soft fabric of his boxers, drawn in by the gravity between you, by the promise of more. The moment settled around you both like a secret only the two of you would ever understand.