Author: FehrlyConscious@aol.com       
Rating: NC-17 (Sexual content, language)
Distribution: Ask first, please.
Pairing: UC L/Mi
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with Roswell or the characters of Roswell. I don’t profit form anything.
Spoilers: Up to “Departure”
Feedback: Sure! Send it to: FehrlyConscious@aol.com
Notes: I am sooo against this pairing, but I had to do it.



_____Only Lonely_____

“He’s leaving you and he’s not coming back. You know that, right? We’re all leaving.” He leaned into her pressing her against the cinderblock wall. He breathed in her ear. He ran his crooked teeth along the nape of her neck and smiled when he felt her tense.

“I know,” Liz whispered, her mouth gaped. She felt his hand run in-between her legs over the denim and she gasped. She felt his smile on her neck. Not him, not now. “Why are you here?”

“Why not? What do I have to lose?” He unsnapped her jeans and touched the tender flesh above her bikini underwear. “You really saved yourself for him, didn’t you?”

She nodded suddenly embarrassed. She raised her head and looked at his eyes. The eyes of someone that used to hate her and now wanted to fuck her. The eyes of her best friends love and her true loves best friend.

“He was never good enough,” he smiled bitterly. “Not for you. You gave him everything and look what happened, you lose Liz. Game over. The King has left the building. Oh, I guess that should be planet, huh?” He slid his hand under the soft cotton and spread her legs as far as he could with his fingers. “I would have been good enough for you.”

“Maria?”

“I’ll always love Maria, but I always really wanted to fuck you.” He slipped two fingers inside her and closed his eyes at the wetness. “I guess you feel the same way.” He looked around the deserted locker room then back to her. He kissed her hard and long, his tongue tackling hers. He smiled when he felt her hand on his ass. He slid her jeans down over her hips and licked his fingers. He un-buttoned his pants and let them fall.

Liz groped at him; his cock was bullet hard. She felt her shirt go over her head and her bra get pushed up above her breasts. His mouth covered her breast, his teeth bringing her nipple to hardness. He rubbed her other nipple until they matched. He pulled his hand out from in back of her, while his other hand stroked her clit. The bundle of nerves tightened.
“Do you want me?” He whispered hotly in her ear. The resounding nod was what he was looking for. He grabbed her ass and slammed her against the wall; he thrust his thick cock into her, breaking the seal.

She felt a rush of pain and then a wave of pleasure.

“I doubt it felt this good for him with her,” Michael gasped as he rammed in and out of her.

“Me too,” she pushed images of her one true love out of her mind. He wasn’t here now. She felt both his hands back on her ass as he lifted her on to him and carried her to the vanity that housed sinks and a mirror above them.

He set her on the edge and watched his reflected face as he pounded into her, her arms around his shoulders. One hand played with her breast, nipple being stretched to the point of pain, but she never complained. His hand moved down from her red nipple and rubbed against her mound. Pushing into her, a finger trailing down. She shuddered and he stopped.

“You can’t come yet,” he panted in her face. He stopped until her shudders did, then rubbed her clit and warmth spread over his hand. He smiled and withdrew from her; he bent down on his knees and parted her legs. He felt her hands in his hair as he lapped her up; his tongue darted in her while his hand rubbed her femininity. She came again and her body shook. He stood and thrust himself back into her over and over until he came in a fit of shakes. He looked at her and then kissed her, soft and tender. “He’ll never know what he missed Liz.”

“Thank you Michael.”
____Only Lonely 2/2_____

She walked behind the counter into the kitchen and saw him watching her. “What?”

“It’s been two weeks since she left. You and Max back together?” He looked from her head to her legs and back up. She shook her head, her breath catching. “Don’t want him anymore?”

Liz shrugged walking closer to him. He pulled her in front of him, lifting her waitress skirt up and sliding his hand into her underwear, hearing her gasp. He watched the patrons eating dinner through the open ledge as he felt her damp folds. She leaned back against him, pushing down on his hand. Wanting. Needing.

He pulled her back out of the kitchen and into the backroom. He drew her tighter against him, his cement hard cock pressing into her lower back. Keeping one hand rubbing her clit, the other slid in-between the buttons of the uniform top. Stroking her hardening nipples through the thin stretched fabric of her bra, slipping his hand underneath; roughly ripping through the tiny white bow holding the two cups together. He unbuttoned her top and rolled a nipple, pulling, pinching until he felt the dampness in his other hand become wetter.

He stopped everything and waited. Waited for her to move; she didn’t. With a crooked smile he turned her around to face him. She didn’t meet his eyes, not this time. Reaching under her skirt he found the elastic waistband to her underwear and pulled them down. She stepped out of them, then watched as they disappeared into his jeans pocket. Bending to her breasts, taking one completely in his mouth. Spit dripped on to her when he pulled away.

Looking over his shoulder, he led her further into the backroom. Facing her, her back against the wall. Denim hit the ground seconds before he lifted her from her feet and entered her. Ramming into her forcefully, ignoring the scratches her nails were making on the back of his neck.
As abruptly as he started it, he ended it. He let her feet hit the ground. He took her hand and placed it over her breast. She tried to protest, but he pushed her hand, manipulated her fingers to pinch her nipple. Liz gasped as he entered her again, slamming her back against the wall.

She came with such intense force, he backed away from her, rocking on his own climax. She looked around and saw the back of a blond head at a distance through the window in the door. Guilt? Maybe. She buttoned her shirt leaving her mangled bra hanging off her shoulders and looked expectantly at him. “Underwear?”

“Never,” he patted his pocket as he zipped up.

She wanted to argue; then again, that was kind of a turn on. She tried to walk by him. He grabbed her forearm and pulled her close to him, his lips crushing down on hers. Rough at first, then gentle. She opened her eyes and finally met his. They were no longer the eyes of her best friends love nor those of her true loves best friend. They were just his eyes. Michael’s eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her tighter, she melted into him. He held her tight feeling her heartbeat against his own. This wasn’t supposed to happen; his heart raced. The warmth exuded from her was thawing out the coldness of his heart.
“I have to go.” She whispered into his chest.

“I know.” He whispered back to her. Kissing the top of her head, he backed away. He watched her and smiled as she fixed her hair in a small mirror on the wall. She saw his reflection and met his mirrored eyes. She turned to face him, heat surging through her veins.

Liz watched him intensely as the door opened and the one person she would have died for walked towards her. He hugged her and tried to kiss her, she turned away. “Liz, you really saved yourself for me?” He asked oblivious to anyone else in the room.

She looked past him and again met Michael’s eyes. “No.”

the end

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