Volcada, The Missing Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or situations created for TGAH; I am borrowing them purely for entertainment purposes and am making no profit from their use. Thank you to Stephen J. Cannell, the cast, producers, writers, directors, and crew for giving us this wonderful, timeless show and the characters that bring it to life.
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Volcada
A movement in the Tango. An action by the male partner puts the female off balance resulting in a falling step. If executed properly, the female is held suspended resulting in a beautiful elongated pose. The movement requires the support of a close embrace.
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NOTE:
This story is a missing scene from the story Volcada, published on FF.net by this Author.

This story fills the gap between Chapters 6 and 8. This version is rated “MA” for explicit sexual content.
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Pam took Bill’s hand as she led him through the darkened living room and down the short hall to her bedroom. Even if she had been able to speak through the tightness in her chest, even if she knew what to say, she would have been afraid a word would break the spell.

It all felt so tenuous, so fragile. As if when he said, “Let’s go inside,” the world had slipped sideways for just an instant and in that split second of disequilibrium, they had found a secret door to another place. A place where they could explore all the things they had each wondered about and privately wished for in the safety of their own thoughts.

Because she knew Bill had been thinking about it, too. And she knew he wanted it as much as she did.

His hand, with its long, supple fingers, felt warm in hers. She imagined his blood pulsing to the same erotic rhythm as her own. She’d seen the evidence of it when they stood up from the glider on her balcony.

The light gabardine of his trousers left little to the imagination. It was all she could do not to reach out and feel the contours of his erection through the fabric.

Instead, she turned to the sliding glass door and led him inside. She had one night. Less than one night. Dawn would be breaking over the sea outside in just a few hours. She wanted the time she had to last a lifetime. And that meant going slow to savor each new sensation.

He seemed to catch her mood and understand her silence. He didn’t speak as she led him to the center of her wide bedroom with its deep, milk-white carpet.

She turned to face him and almost gasped. He was beautiful. His delicately curved lips were parted and touched with the color that brightened his cheeks. His graying hair fell in a soft fringe across his forehead. His bright eyes were such a deep green they shone like warm jade.

She reached up and brushed her fingertips down the strong line from his cheek to his jaw, feeling the slight friction. It had been almost a day since he’d shaved. The feel of the stubble against her fingers was electric. Suddenly, it was all becoming real. Not the stuff of vague dreams and fantasies, but the reality of skin and hair and warm breath and-

Her fingers glided to the base of his neck and she pulled him down toward her with a gentle pressure. His fantastically green eyes closed as he lowered his face to hers. She smelled again the heady scent of wine on his breath and pushed up on her toes to meet his kiss.

All the hesitancy of a few minutes before was gone. As their lips met, his tongue, strong and velvety, stroked along her upper lip. When her mouth opened in an involuntarily gasp of delight, she felt it thrust inside. The sensation, this taste of the promise of him inside her for the first time was almost more than she could bear.

She felt a moan build in the back of her throat. When it came, it was more a vibration than a sound, but he seemed to sense it and the desire it described. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, higher. She felt weightless. Bound to the Earth by nothing but his strong hands.

When he broke the kiss a mew of regret escaped her. She felt his lips turn up in a smile as he pressed a line of kisses along her jaw. His tongue flicked out and caressed her ear. She shivered against him, but his mouth was already traveling lower, down her throat to the neck of her silky white pajamas.

At that, she felt his hands slide lower to her waist and he gently pressed her down to stand slightly apart from him. She wasn’t surprised or taken aback. She would have have been surprised if he hadn’t wanted to enjoy the next moment to its fullest.

She stood very still. She could see his chest rise and fall faster now. She raised her chin and their eyes met. He didn’t look away as he reached out and pushed the silk robe off her shoulders to fall in a shining pool at her feet.

He didn’t look down until she felt his fingers on the first button of her silk pajama top. She could barely breath as she felt the slight pressure and release as the button came free. The intensity in his eyes as his fingers traveled down was like a drug.

She felt light headed as he undid the last button and stood gazing at the ribbon of skin showing from her neck to her waist. He raised his hand again and stroked his fingertips from the notch at the base of her throat with a touch like a kiss. His hand traveled down tracing a line between her breasts, to her belly.

Her stomach quivered at the feel of his hand and he smiled again, understanding every slight nuance of her arousal.

Their eyes met again and he raised his hands to her shoulders. With barely a touch, he pushed back the neck of her pajamas and eased it back over her shoulders. He didn’t look away from her eyes until she felt the soft fabric slide down her arms. When he did, the sight of his sharp inhalation and the throbbing pulse in his throat hit her like a bolt of electricity. She gasped and saw his eyes darken at the sight of her breasts thrusting up toward him.

She let the top slip to the floor and looked down to reach for the cord of her pajama pants. She undid the bow with careful attention and worked her thumbs under the waist. She didn’t have to look up to know he was studying her movements with those vivid green eyes.

Moving slowly, she pushed the waist of the pants down, pausing for just an instant before revealing the shock of dark hair at the crest of her thighs. She heard him take a deep breath and smiled as she pushed the pants down over her hips and let them fall. She stepped out of the small pile of white silk and looked up.

The heat of his gaze was almost physical as he drank in every line and curve of her long body. At last she stepped forward and pressed up on her toes for another deep kiss.

This time she was torn between the feel and the taste of his mouth on hers and the sensation of his soft cotton t-shirt against her bare skin. She leaned in and couldn’t resist a smile as she felt the hard pressure of his erection against her belly. His lips moved in an answering smile.

It was his smile, as much as the tangible feel of his arousal, that sparked a new burst of desire in her. Her inner thighs, already damp and hot, tingled with the heightened pulse that tickled and itched where her belly pressed against his shaft. A slight movement, just the slightest push of her hips would press the crest of her thighs against him. She felt him throb against her and moaned again.

As her hands worked up under his shirt she savored the feel of the dusting of hair across his belly. She’d seen it before, pale and fine and slightly curling. Lately she’d wondered what it would be like to feel it between her fingers as she-

She pushed him back with a firm pressure, not releasing the contact of her skin on his shirt. As he moved with her, she came down off her toes and broke the kiss, moving to press her lips to his jaw, his throat. She felt the bump as his calves collided with the bed. Her hands found his waist and pushed down until his legs bent and he sat on the edge of the low bed.

He looked up through half-closed eyes. His lips were wet and parted as his breath came shallow and quick. His long fingered hands found her hips, stroking down to her thighs.

He held her there, pulling her forward, but she resisted, laying a hand on each of his shoulders.

Her fingers traced the neck of his t-shirt. She remembered the trouble she’d taken, working it carefully along his arms and over his head, trying hard to not strain the wound in his side. She imagined pulling it off just as carefully, slowly inching it over his shoulders-

Her hands closed tightly on the soft fabric and pulled. The sound of tearing cotton was like an electric jolt to her stomach, sparking an involuntarily trill of laughter.

His eyes opened wide, taking in her wide grin and he broke into an answering grin that turned to a startled laugh as she pushed his shoulders back to the bed.

She knelt at his feet and her fingers worked the fastenings of his trousers. In an instant she had the waist loose and was working it down over his hips. He pushed up to give her access and for a split second she considered leaving the boxers for last.

She didn’t. Her fingers found the elastic waist and she pulled, tugging both pieces down and over his knees. Two quick yanks had pants, boxers and socks in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed.

She stood between his bare feet, hands on her hips, and let her gaze travel up his impossibly long legs, over his muscled thighs, his-

The shaft of his penis was long and smooth, almost exactly as she’d imagined it. Only the head was broader and thicker than she had pictured. It was, as she knew it would be, perfect.

She wanted to take her time, to savor, to plant each moment like a private garden in her memory. But it was so hard not to-

She let her gaze travel up his broad chest, wrapped now in a snug bandage, to his powerful shoulders and up to meet his eyes. He was watching her with a strange mixture of curiosity and wonder.

She couldn’t go slow. It was impossible.

With a panting moan she moved, planting her knees on the edge of the bed on either side of his thighs. She fell forward, catching herself on her straight arms, bracing herself over his chest.

He gasped as her long hair fell over her shoulder in a dark curtain and brushed his skin. She bent and gave him another lingering kiss, ending it with a playful tug at his bottom lip; a little taste of things to come.

She pushed up, returning his startled grin, before she bent and kissed his chin, his throat, the divot of bone at the base of his neck, his breastbone, traveling down and down along the indentation of muscled stomach, feeling the fine hairs against her face.

Inhaling, she took in the spicy, sweet smell of him and smiled again as she brushed her lips across the head of his shaft. It pulsed against her lips and she felt him shudder below her. She breathed out a long sigh, trailing a light kiss along the length of him, then pressed back until she was again kneeling between his feet.

He surprised her then by pushing up on his elbows and looking down the length of his body. His mouth quirked in a smile and she licked her suddenly feverish lips. His eyes widened and she bent forward.

Bracing herself against his thighs, she pressed another kiss to the tip of his shaft. When it rose up to meet her lips, she opened them, taking the head into her mouth. She felt him shudder again as she shifted to bring her hand up. She stroked down with a light, feathery touch, using just enough pressure to keep the shaft upright. She swirled her tongue around the head, tracing the contours of the smooth, hot skin.

Then she shifted again and pressed down, sliding the shaft deeper and deeper into her open mouth. Her taut lips tightened and released in time to the steady stroke of her hand. She felt him rock gently to the rhythm she set, moving in time to her downward thrusts.

With her free hand, she felt upward from the arc of his hipbone. There she found the perfect match to her fantasy image as his shaft throbbed deep in her mouth and her fingers caressed the fine hairs of his belly. She lost herself in the rhythmic movement.

It must have been several minutes later when she felt his light touch on her shoulder. She looked up into his heavy lidded eyes. His chest rose and fell with quick, short breaths.

She could take him now. She could slide forward and lower herself onto his hard shaft. She could take him now, in an instant.

She knew he saw the struggle in her eyes. In his she read a question. Could she, would she, let him enjoy her as she had enjoyed him? Could she let him take his time?

She took a deep breath before she stood and held out her hand. The smile that quirked the corners of his mouth launched a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. It was his turn to feel a fantasy under his hands.

She braced her feet and helped him lever up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. His grunt of pain at the movement hit her like a blow and she bit her lip. He saw her expression and shook his head, giving her a lopsided smile.

He stood, looking down at her upturned face, then bent and gave her a deep and thorough kiss. She was breathing heavily when he broke the contact and bent to kiss her throat.

His strong fingers traced down her arms and up to her shoulders. He took a step and as she moved to match him he rested a hand on her hip, holding her in place. The delicate pressure on her skin made her shiver and she saw him smile again as he stepped around until he stood behind her.

She felt his lips press a light kiss to the back of her ear and felt her hair move as he brushed it up and over her shoulder. Then his lips trailed a line of kisses across her back while his hands slid around to her belly.

With a tremulous thrill, she realized she had no idea where his mouth or his hands would touch her next. She felt his fingers trace along the curve of her hip and she let her eyelids flutter closed.

He shifted behind her and she felt the heat of his erection. The temperature difference between her front and her back made her shiver again and she felt him smile against her shoulder.

One hand traced slowly up her body from her tight curls to her belly button. Her breath caught in her chest, but the hand continued up to rest at the base of her throat. His other hand moved across her hip and stroked lightly across the curls over the crest of her thighs.

It was completely involuntary. She intended to keep still, to let him take his time. She didn’t mean to move. But at the light pressure of his fingers brushing over that very specific spot, she bucked forward.

His delighted chuckle was like music. She pressed back against him to say, never mind, take your time, but she knew he understood in the next instant when his fingers tightened on her thigh. The sudden firm grip made her gasp in surprise. The hand at her throat dropped down brushing lightly over her taut nipples, but the hand on her thigh didn’t relax. He was telling her to hold still, to be patient. She bit her lip and relaxed back against him in wordless agreement.

She felt his warm breath against her cheek as the hand at her breast tightened, flexing and tugging, each movement a little more urgent than the last. Within seconds her head was thrown back against his shoulder as she panted and moaned her pleasure.

The hand at her thigh relaxed and she gave a little whine of distress at the loss of it, but moaned again as it moved to her breast. Both hands were working the tight skin, each movement adding incrementally greater pressure until her moans sounded like screams in her own ear. She felt him shift behind her and his mouth moved against her cheek, her ear, her throat. His lips brushed her neck and then she felt his teeth nip lightly at the sensitive skin of her shoulder. She struggled to stay still but the exquisite, teasing pleasure of it was too much. She reached back and found his hips, tugging him forward until his erection pressed against her back.

“Please,” she breathed in the still air. “Please, Bill.”

He understood. One hand relaxed on her breast until it was gently tugging and pulling at the tight skin. The other traveled down over her quivering abdomen to the crest of her thighs. Long fingers stroked up through the tight curls, gently pressing through the folds.

It only took a moment. The instant his fingertips brushed the tingling skin she gasped. A moment later she bucked against his hand, thrusting forward, her back arched as she shook with tiny gasping moans. She gave a long, low, shuddering cry and fell back, panting against his chest.

He gave her a moment to come back to herself, gently supporting her as the trembling in her knees subsided. At last she heaved a sigh and leaned forward to stand on her own.

She started to turn when he surprised her again by holding her shoulders lightly and leaning forward to puff a long, even breath across the sheen of perspiration glistening on her shoulders and chest.

A light laugh burst from her at the unexpected sensation. At that he released her shoulders and the next instant she felt a light slap on her bottom.

She spun around and found him regarding her with such a wide-eyed expression of whole-hearted innocence, she laughed again. Still smiling, she took his hand and led him back to the edge of the bed.

With only a little effort they managed to position him, reclining on the bed, his head and shoulders raised on a thin pillow. She indulged herself for a moment with another lingering look at his long limbs, his broad torso, his tapered waist, and his beautiful and delicious shaft.

Then she sat on the bed beside him and bent forward for another deep and thorough kiss. As she moved to her knees, she let her hair fall across his bare skin. He shivered at the sensation and she spent a moment tracing a line from his shoulder to his thigh with her curtain of hair.

She noticed, on some level, that the room was lighter. Sunlight was filtering in through her sheer curtains. The night was almost over. But not yet.

She moved to kneel, straddling his muscular thighs. His hands found her hips and held her there, the light pressure of his fingertips sending a fresh pulse of excitement coursing through her.

She could feel his pulsing heat across the gulf of space between them as his hands slid down to rest on her thighs. She moved to position herself over him, barely the space of a breath separating them now.

Their eyes met.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

And with a sigh, she lowered herself, closing the gap between them.

As he slid inside her, she gave a little moan. He answered with a shuddering breath. She eased back, arching, finding the deepest and most perfect fit.

She held there, unmoving except for the pulse of her muscles and the answering throb from him. Then she leaned forward to brace herself on her hands and began to move.

She slid down and back, up and forward, adding a little flex of her hips at the end of each stroke. Within seconds the slow, steady rhythm gave way to a more rapid beat. As she slid backward, his hips bucked up, propelling her forward, over and over, faster and faster and her muscles pulsed harder and his shaft twitched inside her and they both moaned as she pressed forward, cocking her hips to bounce the crest of her thighs against his over and over and faster and faster until with a cry that came from deep in her belly she threw her head back and jerked and shuddered and pulsed and felt him pulse with her and heard him moan deep in his throat from very far away as the world contracted to the place where they touched and at last the world came back and they both slowed and slid to a panting, gasping stop.

She held herself there on her trembling arms for a long breath, then slipped forward, moving and turning as she did to position herself stretched out along his side. His strong arm came up around her shoulders and held her there while each caught their breath.

“Mmm,” she exhaled at last.

“Mmm-hmm,” he answered sleepily.

“You said it,” she murmured.
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Sometime later, when the bed was made comfortable for a sound sleep in spite of the light now streaming in through the window, she lay beside him, her head cradled against his shoulder. Her hand lay on his bandaged chest, feeling it rise and fall with his even breath. She raised her head and gazed at his sleeping face, unmasked and unmarked by pain.

He sighed and his arm moved, pulling her closer. She lay against him and drifted to sleep.

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- continued in Chapter 8 of Volcada -

el Tango de Los Angeles
(Tango of the Angels)