I'm technically proficient

...despite certain attitude issues

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I need help [RP for Lee] (spoilers for tonight's ER)
standing in the elevator
lockhart_md
After a strangely jarring conversation with the new hospital chaplain, Abby finds herself taking the elevator upstairs, to the surgical department. Making her way to her husband's office, she waffles outside the door, pacing, stalling.

It's not until she sees one of the surgical nurses casting a curious look in her direction that she knocks softly on the door, then pushes it open. She takes a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair, and lets the door close behind her as she steps into Lee's office.

She begins to speak but has to clear her throat before she tries again.
Hey...how's the leg feeling? She approaches her husband slowly, gesturing to his injured leg.

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She moans softly as she feels him enter her, lifting her hips to meet him, responding to his kiss eagerly.

He cradles the back of her head in one hand, the other slipping under her back as he keeps his weight on his forearms. His movements are slow and deliberate, he's favoring his leg, not wanting to be distracted by the pain as he focuses on her. He wants this to be good, wants her to remember the way he feels.

She forces herself to go slowly, meeting his pace, though she thinks she might go crazy if he goes any slower. She feels every inch of him against her skin, inside of her, and she tips her head back, eyes closed, savoring the sensations he's causing in her.

He presses his face against her exposed neck, inhaling her scent and kissing her hungrily. She feels as she always does--amazing. It's enough to make him groan against her throat as he thrusts his hips forward, determined to be inside of her, deeply inside of her.

She moans, deep in her throat, curling her fingers against him, her nails pressing into the skin of his back. He's always been able to make her feel like this, like there's no one in the world besides the two of them.

He'd love it if they could stay this way, just the two of them. There are times when he thinks she's all he needs, her body beneath his, skin to skin, warm breath on his face and the sound of her voice encouraging him to move within her.

She lifts her hips with his again, hands running up and down his back in time with their movements. She thinks if she can just keep this, keep them, keep feeling like she does now, she won't need another drink. She'll hold on.

He lifts his head to look at her, look into her eyes. He can't imagine how, when they are this good, she could possibly need to get drunk just to get through the day. Doesn't know how he could have ever been unhappy himself.

When he lifts his head, she brings her mouth to his, kissing him tenderly. She closes her eyes again, pretending all is well, nothing is between them except this love, this passion.

He responds to her kiss with one in kind, pulling away only when his ragged breathing forces him. She feels so good, so right, as he thrusts into her that he can't imagine stopping any time soon.

She moans when he pulls away, meeting his thrusts with her own impassioned movements, her head tilted back against the mattress.

So much for not stopping, he thinks as she pushes him over the edge with her response. The familiar tightness low in his abdomen begins and the muscles in his thighs tingle then numb as he lets go, her name a soft cry as he throws his head back.

She moans louder when she feels him come inside of her, clasping him to her, holding him tightly as his release overtakes him.

He shudders as he comes, resting his brow against her shoulder and his hips continue to rock against her, the urgency gone but the desire still there.

She holds one hand at the back of his head, continuing to rock her hips against his, feeling closer and closer to the edge as well.

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