With that reaction, I'm assuming this is the part where the ass kicking ensues? [ He leans his back against the elevator's wall, hand tucked in his pocket as he waits the same routine set of seconds for it to lift him through the building to her floor. When he steps out, he's prepared for the short walk in the hall that takes him to her door; seeing her already waiting there makes him briefly pause in his stride, gaze instantly falling upon the entirety of her appearance.
He turns away briefly, because while he's not exactly the bashful type, there is a slight fluster all the same at the bare exposure of her long legs, at the way her sweatshirt hangs loosely over her body, leaving him with the internal debate of whether it leans more towards adorable or sexy.
All the same, when he's glancing back at her, he was the upward curve of a smirk, resuming his last remaining venture to her apartment to lean his arm against the frame when he gets there, his own body tucked close to hers as he peers down at her with affection in his eyes. ] Depends. Permission to come in?
Oh, I have to tell you the part where I jumped through a window. [ because every vamp fight needs a badass entrance, obviously, but maybe she'll leave him on that cliffhanger with a promise to follow-up on part two at a later opportunity. she gets the feeling that she might have to save the rest for later, now that he's currently striding down the hallway towards her.
she hadn't counted on flustering him, but it sort of works as unanticipated payback for that one innuendo he'd made earlier, so she'll take it. it's nothing more or less than she usually wears when she's here alone, late, but it does feel like peeling back another part of the onion, letting him in on something that few get the chance to see personally.
he inclines himself towards her and she moves in kind, swaying forward until she's notched her hip against the side of the doorframe, her empty hand curving fingers into the front of his jacket. ] Granted.
[ He's plenty interested in the remaining details of her story, an open ear always offered to learn the twists and complications of the things her world offers in comparison to his own (exclusive to her, really, since he wouldn't normally encourage much storytelling from anyone else if he can help it). But it's the look of her peering at him with those sly eyes, the drift of her fingertips on his jacket, that remind me why he'd traveled all the way here in the first place.
His hand rests upon hers, guiding her palm to rest flat between the open flap of his jacket and against his shirt, nestled right at his heart. The remaining fingers seek out a sweatshirt-covered hip, carefully curving around for a gentle hold as he begins to shuffle inside at a lethargic pace, guiding her with him.
Leaning in, he runs the tip of a dented nose across the soft flesh of her cheek, a nuzzle left in its wake until he bumps into the bridge of hers, the contact forcing a soft smile. ] Hi.
[ She can't let him in without revealing that one tiny detail, because she can also count on one hand the number of windows she's actually managed to jump through rather than being thrown through (different story) and she's never one to shy away from telling the kind of bedtime story that puts herself in the best and most kickass light.
But if she'd harbored any lingering doubts about whether they'd maintain the energy of their conversation in person, they're sufficiently squashed when he steers her hand beneath the open sides of his jacket to the solid warmth within, her smile broadening while they take tiny, scuffing steps in tandem across the threshold and inside. ]
Hi. [ Her response is instantly gentler, face already tipping upward to meet the brush of his nose, the slightly ticklish result prompting a brief scrunching of hers. Fingertips press more firmly over the place where his heart pulses strong beneath while she lets the shape of her mouth drift definitively to his, a light press that soon dissolves into a more heated kiss as she curves her body even closer, fitting herself to him. ]
[ He nudges the door shut behind them with a swift adjustment of his foot and some pressure of his elbow, not inclined to separate himself from the position he's already grown fond of in the seconds they've regained some physical contact. The audible strategy could only benefited them for so long; as soon as her lips graze his, he's already sinking into her kiss, letting his heightened craving from their conversations be known.
Fingers drift up against her chin, tilting it to angle further against his mouth, firm but languid in its kiss before a thumb drifts in between, cutting them apart for that brief opportunity to run across the smooth horizontal line of her lip.
He sighs then, breath heavy with something lingering on contentment, the journey that had brought him all the way from his renovated rundown apartment in the Down through the trials required to reach the Up now decisively worth it if it meant even just the fraction of this kiss. Not that he stops there, encouraging the wide parting of her lips with his thumb to bring his back against them, this time with a tongue that rolls past, deepening it further. ]
[ It helps that he's still thinking about things like doors and not inadvertently giving her one neighbor a show β although, knowing Diana, she probably wouldn't voice any complaints about it β because the second her mouth finds his Wynonna damn near melts, nothing even remotely subtle about her finding places to slot against him, those spots where they seem to be able to fit together without even needing to think too hard about it.
Her eyes start to flutter open when his thumb slips between to trace the swell of her lip, the caress still carrying a small chill in from the outside, and her breath hitches ever so slightly; he's close enough to be able to pick up on that subtle indication that he's already got her reeled in, almost painfully conscious of everything he's doing.
It hits her then, as his mouth returns to hers; he kisses her like she's worth it, like every touch of her lips, every time he tastes her, is something that deserves coming back to over and over again β and she can count on one hand the number of people who have ever kissed her that way, too. She exhales the softest of sighs into the slide of his tongue against hers and slips her hand out of his jacket to wrap her arms around his neck instead, drawing herself up and in, the hem of the sweatshirt creeping ever higher with the movement and provoking a small, reflexive shiver. ]
[ The glide of her hands swerving around his neck drag him in closer and it encourages the further slide of his mouth, a soft low hum from his throat that audibly channels the stirring hunger of their kiss. Lingering fingertips stroke against her cheek, a gentle caress before they depart, finding refuge where her sweatshirt begins to lift, exposing the warm bare skin at the small of her back.
His palm spreads, kneading at the base of her spine before fingernails curl inward with a light scrape horizontally across the smooth skin, aiming for the opposite hip. There, he clutches, a steady hold that takes advantage of her support at his neck because he primarily relies on the strength of a bicep to lift her, free hand slipping beneath a knee.
He doesn't cease his kisses even as he transports her across the apartment to her bedroom, the familiar line towards it recognizable enough for him to achieve without the full focus of his attention. There's something to be said of that, how he knows the workings of this space with his eyes closed, that he knows the distances between her furniture from every breathtaking kiss they've stolen against them. But he doesn't think of it now, and he doesn't think of it at all, and it's only when his knees knock against the mattress that he'll lower her at its edge, freeing his hands then only to drag his jacket off of his shoulders while boots get kicked from his feet. ]
[ She jerks, once, lightly, as his hand comes into contact with her bare skin, still not completely warmed given this city's unforgiving temperatures, a tiny gasp slipping out only to be swallowed up by his mouth, the slick tangle of tongues. But she's leaning into him rather than away as he eases a hand under her knee and hoists her up, her body sensing the trajectory before it happens, the muscles in her thighs tensing just enough to give her a boost of momentum to where she can assume a perch in his arms.
It's quiet, save the footfall of heavy boots, the occasional whimper his kisses elicit from her, hair slipping forward to gently brush the curve of his jaw before she tucks it back behind her ear, not wanting to hinder his movements in any way β but he has no problem navigating, setting her down in the bedroom so she can plant her bare feet into plush carpet and assign her hands to the task of removing some of his layers.
Her fingers assume a grip in the hem of his shirt, rolling it up gradually; she's careful, mindful of any bruises that are taking their sweet time with healing, but any revealed to still be persisting find themselves the newest target of her lips and the slow, soft kisses she presses to them while her hands settle on his waist, holding him steady under their deliberate application, as if that's all that's required for them to finally fade. ]
[ The jacket rolls from his shoulders and Wynonna's hands are already carrying on to the next piece of fabric, the careful slide of his shirt crumbling up his abdomen for him to aid with lifted arms. His sigh comes when her lips make up for the loss coverage upon his chest, peppering them soft in gentle grazes against the sensitive marks still lingering in shades of yellow and purple.
It sparks a shiver, the slide of her mouth, drifting where there's still a tinge of pain, where the bruising has yet to fully heal. Only there's no resistance, no draw back from the touches when they're the opposite of unbearable.
His fingers curl through the messy locks of her hair, tucking it all back in a bunch to a single shoulder to leave a section of her neck exposed where the stealthy brush of a thumb can linger. It runs vertically where the skin stretches tight, drawing back and forth in rhythm with his shallow breaths, the vivid pulses of his heart undisguised if her mouth happens to stall there, lurching behind a dark mark from where a bullet had almost pierced through that very skin. ]
[ The push of her lips is light enough not to fully awaken any residual pain in those nerve endings, those places on his skin that are more sensitive to even the gentlest amount of pressure, though she can't help but notice the shudder that courses across the surface of him with the contact, drops in a still pond rippling outward, and a smile briefly tenses the pursing of her mouth. It's heady, the knowledge that she affects him as intensely as he does her.
She navigates elsewhere, to less tender expanses, her hands lightly cupping along his sides while her mouth forges its own trail across his chest; on pure impulse, she teases her lips across a nipple and then circles it with the tip of her tongue, gaze shifting upward to track the expression that results.
She'd map the whole of him solely with her mouth if he let her, leave no part of his body untouched by her hands, her kisses; she'd trace the ridges in his abdomen with her tongue, gently sink her teeth into those deep pelvic lines, nip at his inner thighs while he fists a grip in her hair and breathes her name, tease him just enough so that when she finally wrapped her lips around his cock he'd groan from the sheer relief of it, of the wet heat of her mouth soothing that swollen, desperate length. ]
[ He licks at his lips, a swift thing before he's nipping over it with restless teeth, a bite that muffles the soft rise of his moan. There's little to tell what earns more of the credit for that sound, be it the tease of a circular lick, mischievous tongue rotating his nipple, or the catch of her gaze, that heat in her eyes that offer him so much more.
And he'd accept it, every brush of her mouth on him, the way she maneuvers it to her advantage, knowing the tricks that evoke the urgent sounds from his throat. But he remains unsettled, his own hunger growling in his core, and he gives her hair a tug, drawing her back to angle her lips upwards for him to snatch with his own.
The kiss remains messy, almost uncoordinated as his tongue rolls against hers, scolding it in turn for its teases. Breath heavy, he murmurs while barely parting from her, ] I want my mouth on you. [ He swallows, nose nudging nose, before he adds, ] I want mine on you. Yours on me. [ A compromise. ]
[ She won't mask her delight in hearing whatever she prompts from him, whether it's inarticulate or little more than a soft exhalation, even the sound of her own name β she'll absorb it all, learning what she has to do to provoke one noise over another, though she doesn't get the chance to remain where she is for very long before he's snagging fingers in her hair, the resulting tug making her scalp prickle before his mouth skews over hers.
It's exactly the right kind of messy, sloppy, a gossamer-wet thread connecting her lower lip to his until it breaks with the first utterance of his desire, of what he wants from her. She can't help but think back to the words he'd sent her not too long ago, about wanting to eat her out until she's trembling from it, and fuck, she knows sheβll be slick when he tastes her there, already open and ripe and ready for it now, that scrap of lace between her thighs mere moments away from being soaked straight through. ]
Please. God. [ She remembers the want she'd expressed too, about what she'd do once she gets her mouth on him, and unconsciously licks her lips, arching back just far enough to strip off her sweatshirt. ] Get your pants off.
[ His lips twitch into a smirk at the affirmation, praising it with another swift kiss before she's already drawing back to strip away remaining layers, the heavy fabric of her sweatshirt easily lifted in her haste, the familiar shape of her curves only briefly admired before he guides his attention to undoing his jeans.
When the denim slides down his legs, the remaining piece soon follows, ridding himself of his boxer briefs while he's ridding himself of what's left, exposing the weight of his cock at half mass, the pooling arousal of it still actively building with every kiss, every promise of more.
He climbs upon the bed, knees shifting across the mattress until he's behind her, leaning forward for his lips to drape again her neck, still aiming for that continuous physical connection even if it's only fleeting each time. Because he doesn't cease movement, reaching for her hand and tugging to lead her further onto the bed as he shuffles backwards himself, lust and affection swirling in his eyes. ] C'mere, you.
[ The sudden lack of the warm, weighty fabric against her body evokes a small tremor from her body but the hard buds of her nipples, their flushed points, can't be blamed on the loss of what little clothing she'd planned on wearing to bed tonight, alone. She can focus on peeling her underwear off instead, hooking her thumbs into the delicate thread at her hips and easing it down past her thighs while he takes care of what articles still drape his frame.
His lips find her neck there, that spot where it merges into her shoulder, only giving her more ideas about how they'll feel elsewhere eventually, but she has little time to react before he's already drawing her back onto the bed, his beckoning words making her chuckle quietly. She pivots to crawl up over him then, wanting the warmth of his skin against her own even if it's only for a few moments before they focus on other priorities, her free hand bracing on his chest as she swings her leg across his middle to straddle him. ]
I do like the view from up here. [ Him stretched out across her bed, strong and battle-scarred and eyes only for her, at least in this moment; she cups his face lightly in both hands and bends low to kiss him again, humming when she lets her full weight sink into the heat of his firmness. ]
[ A chuckle sprouts from her admiration, lips twisted in the signature of his more subtle smile, her fingers dancing up the length of forearms, tickling into a soft grip of her biceps. ]
Can't say I have much to complain about on my end. [ The sway of her long waves draped across her shoulders, fallen from her crawl across him, the swell of her pert breasts, nipples attentive and practically calling for the touch of his fingertips, the sly curve of her lips that loom in to snatch at his own β he gazes upon all of it with endearment, eyes lit as if it's the first time he gets to bask in the look of her.
It's the kiss that distracts him, and while he's made his promises on what he wants, he's in no rush to halt this either, sighing against her open mouth when her body presses against his cock, hips shifting if only for that pleasant grind that transfers heat in an endless cycle between them, a satisfying accompaniment to the eager kisses selfishly exchanged. ]
[ She hadn't been lying when she'd mentioned this position was one of her favorites, not just for the sight it affords her but for the likely obvious control aspect, in everything from how she swirls her hips to the pace she can set. In the past she might have been more primarily focused on the selfishness of it too, the pleasure she could claim for herself without necessarily thinking of who lays there beneath her β but she's never been able to enter into any of these hours they've stolen away without wanting to give it back as good as she gets. ]
Might like it even better in a second. [ That murmur over his lips is punctuated by the slow slide of her hand between their bodies, lifting her hips to further permit a descent to where she can wrap her fingers around his length and stroke, a soft prelude to her eventual intent.
She hasn't tired of the sight of the utter pleasure that transforms his features when she touches him like this; somehow she doubts she ever will, lips moving over a strong chin before she nips at the taut skin along his jaw. ]
[ He can read the movements of her intent, how the stealthy slip of her fingertips between them to curl around his hardened arousal is for the purposes of his response, how she can draw the peak of her control by the weight of her movements, by a squeeze or stroke all powered in the technique of her hand.
And for all that she seeks, he offers; the initial touch prompts a soft subtle gasp almost instantly lost, but as she finds a more valued stroke along the shaft, his lips part with unsteady breaths, his head drawn back against her pillow, exposing the long expanse of his neck where his adam's apple bobs from a thick swallow. ]
Shit. [ He mutters, because it's good already, every corner of muscle and skin taut with anticipation and longing for her touch, her kiss, to be engulfed in every slip of possibility, groaning when she nips, not because it pains but because it revitalizes him. His own caresses encourage every sting of a bite, palms sloping along her sides, kneading heated skin until finding the hang of her breasts, thumb tracing that pointed press of a nipple. ]
[ He really is something to behold here, hard and wanting and hers, and she swallows down that unexpected sense of ownership that results from something as unexpected as watching him arch beneath the grip of her fingers. It's not even a question of ensuring his readiness; that's never been in doubt. No, it's finding any available excuse to touch him, however the opportunities present themselves.
But it also feels a little like teasing in a way that's indisputably her, as much as she can delay giving in to what's basically a guarantee at this point.
She will pull away, but only because she knows he won't complain once he realizes where she's going, bracing her hands on his shoulders once more to nudge herself up into sitting, licking kiss-swollen lips while she studies him for those few, precious fractions of a minute. It'll take some maneuvering to reverse her straddle over his midsection, but that grin she flashes over her shoulder at him should be another spur in his side. ] Time for you to make me squirm.
[ She could turn him inside out exactly where she is, her eyes locked on him to observe every turning point of his pleasure, and he wouldn't protest a second of it. He could thrive on her mouth at his jaw, her parted lips gnawing at the sharp curves and tracing every line that tightens from his pleasured expressions.
The exchange, however, is worth it when she's drawing back, a sense of pride and accomplishment in her gaze as she peers down to the man she's somehow managed to wrap so seamlessly around her finger with a few tacky jokes and the expertise of a sly smile. Her shifting body is what draws the lick to his own lips, watching as she twists around and she offers an alternate display of herself. ]
I'll make you do more than that. [ It's not as smooth as his previous deliveries, but his mind is hardly on the quality of his lines or the banter, not when he intends to occupy his mouth on other tasks. His palms already roam against the soft back of her thighs, ascending to where they meet, curving at the prime visual of those tight rear cheeks. While he nips anxiously at his lip, he only guides a mere thumb over the pressed folds between her legs, a single touch enough to find that heat slick with existing arousal, leaving him to rub intently over the entrance. ]
[ This position, specifically? Perfectly legitimate in theory, but maybe a little awkward in practice when all is said and done, and she realizes without the benefit of maintaining eye contact she feels kind of silly perched up here the way that she is, the restless shift of hips above him a subtle clue.
But their verbal exchanges are going to be severely limited in a very short amount of time, and that realization sends her up onto her knees, bracing her weight there shortly before his hand slides between her thighs and he strokes over her with thick, sure fingers, fueling her need that much higher. ]
You will. [ It's a damn guarantee now, and she'll readily admit it as she shifts herself backward. He wants her thighs wrapped around his head? He's going to get them, but she stops just shy of pressing her hips down toward his face, hovering in that painfully close space, fingers of one hand dipping down to part her folds wide as her breath catches in her throat, giving him the visual of her slick and spread open. ] You want a taste?
[ He manages his own private smirk, an amusement in the lines of his lips as she shuffles her body back to level it properly over him. He'll assist in the adjustment, his fingers wrapping around her thighs to guide them in closer until she's settled perfectly above his mouth.
The mere question sends a spur of heat through him, because it's she that's reaching between her legs, long fingers gliding around her folds to part them for him, soft wet skin glistening with her arousal. ]
Yeah. [ He murmurs, a simple answer but with the purr of his low voice, it's more in the yearning found in the sound, a predecessor to his more important intentions with his mouth as he leans his head up. Lips opening wide, his tongue dips to meet that assisted entry, rolling against the parted pink of her sex, licking a long stripe to gather the first taste of her. ]
[ Even the act of exposing her want like this feels like its own brand of filthy; she's no stranger to touching herself, sliding a hand between her legs to tease her clit long enough until her cunt is begging for something to be shoved inside, to be fucked. She's even gotten herself off like this before with him listening on the other end of the line, hearing every shuddering gasp and slide of skin against the bedsheets as she rocked her hips up into the crooking curl of her fingers.
But having him lying there beneath her, getting a front-row seat to what she looks like when she's practically dripping for him β it makes her bite her lip long before he even inclines to give her his mouth, his tongue brushing against the sides of her fingers while she glances down to see his jaw tilting upward with the motion of it. ]
Shit. [ It feels so good already and he's barely even started, and she knows she'll have no hope of staying propped up on her knees like this the longer he licks over her, but she can manage it well enough for now, sighing with every single stroke that coaxes more of her arousal out onto his lips. ]
[ She's warm on his tongue, a brand of wet that he wouldn't need much more effort to coax, and the display of her existing arousal practically paralleling his own, fully erect and attentive with the undeniable want of her.
He could have remained in his apartment, let her have the opportunity to rest as she'd seemed to have been lulling towards; he doesn't regret making the long trip, of repeating mistakes again and again in falling into this addictive routine with her β touching her, tasting her, fucking her. They're his own private comforts, for as long as she seeks it out from him, false securities in these nights belonging to them alone.
Gripping her thighs, he lingers at her folds, stroking slow but full, sliding across the entirety of it as if refusing to miss an opportunity to blend the slick evidence of her heat with his own saliva. Yet it isn't long before his tongue takes advantage of the parted entry, gliding past to stroke it inside for as far as the muscle can reach. ]
[ He could have stayed. She could have let the question between them drop, when asked if she wanted him to come here. She could have said no, begged off for sleep, come up with a lame excuse about needing sleep after a long day of work that neither of them would've fully bought. But he'd asked her, and she hadn't been able to deny this, deny herself him.
He's given her his mouth before but never with her kneeling over him, straddling his face, and even if she does have the advantage of being on top there's a small amount of helplessness in it too, of being bound to whatever sensation he chooses to deliver to her via the strokes of his tongue, the suction of his lips. Her hand slips out from between her thighs to brace against the mattress and then she leans forward, because she hasn't forgotten about the other desire she expressed to him once before, about taking his cock in her mouth deep enough to make herself gag, and she wants to follow through.
Of course, that's the same moment he presses his tongue into her and she freezes halfway in her crawl down his body, a sudden shudder coursing down her spine and triggering the grinding roll of her hips, seeking out that slick penetration. ] Fuck, right there.
[ There's a fondness for this, for this varied position, where there's so much shared power, where she can move freely as her body instinctively guides her and he's merely there to abide, to let his tongue run to where she wants it. Because even as her body leans forward, he doesn't relent from the shift, still lifting his jaw up to adjust for any movements, using them to his attention for a more notable brush.
Any moan she releases from above, any sharp swear that bordering on pleasure, he wants to hear more, following suit with his playful tongue to fights to be inside of her, lapping at her soaked walls with fervor and hunger.
He hadn't seen himself falling into urges like this when he'd found himself in the city, hadn't considered the lust for positions like these after so long of wanting nothing, of not tending himself to pleasure when he'd adjusted the order of his priorities, but he's conscious of the weakness for it now, how merely having her there is enough to realign his wants to an altered order; tonight, eating her out until she's quivering rises to the top of that list. ]
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He turns away briefly, because while he's not exactly the bashful type, there is a slight fluster all the same at the bare exposure of her long legs, at the way her sweatshirt hangs loosely over her body, leaving him with the internal debate of whether it leans more towards adorable or sexy.
All the same, when he's glancing back at her, he was the upward curve of a smirk, resuming his last remaining venture to her apartment to lean his arm against the frame when he gets there, his own body tucked close to hers as he peers down at her with affection in his eyes. ] Depends. Permission to come in?
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she hadn't counted on flustering him, but it sort of works as unanticipated payback for that one innuendo he'd made earlier, so she'll take it. it's nothing more or less than she usually wears when she's here alone, late, but it does feel like peeling back another part of the onion, letting him in on something that few get the chance to see personally.
he inclines himself towards her and she moves in kind, swaying forward until she's notched her hip against the side of the doorframe, her empty hand curving fingers into the front of his jacket. ] Granted.
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His hand rests upon hers, guiding her palm to rest flat between the open flap of his jacket and against his shirt, nestled right at his heart. The remaining fingers seek out a sweatshirt-covered hip, carefully curving around for a gentle hold as he begins to shuffle inside at a lethargic pace, guiding her with him.
Leaning in, he runs the tip of a dented nose across the soft flesh of her cheek, a nuzzle left in its wake until he bumps into the bridge of hers, the contact forcing a soft smile. ] Hi.
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But if she'd harbored any lingering doubts about whether they'd maintain the energy of their conversation in person, they're sufficiently squashed when he steers her hand beneath the open sides of his jacket to the solid warmth within, her smile broadening while they take tiny, scuffing steps in tandem across the threshold and inside. ]
Hi. [ Her response is instantly gentler, face already tipping upward to meet the brush of his nose, the slightly ticklish result prompting a brief scrunching of hers. Fingertips press more firmly over the place where his heart pulses strong beneath while she lets the shape of her mouth drift definitively to his, a light press that soon dissolves into a more heated kiss as she curves her body even closer, fitting herself to him. ]
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Fingers drift up against her chin, tilting it to angle further against his mouth, firm but languid in its kiss before a thumb drifts in between, cutting them apart for that brief opportunity to run across the smooth horizontal line of her lip.
He sighs then, breath heavy with something lingering on contentment, the journey that had brought him all the way from his renovated rundown apartment in the Down through the trials required to reach the Up now decisively worth it if it meant even just the fraction of this kiss. Not that he stops there, encouraging the wide parting of her lips with his thumb to bring his back against them, this time with a tongue that rolls past, deepening it further. ]
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Her eyes start to flutter open when his thumb slips between to trace the swell of her lip, the caress still carrying a small chill in from the outside, and her breath hitches ever so slightly; he's close enough to be able to pick up on that subtle indication that he's already got her reeled in, almost painfully conscious of everything he's doing.
It hits her then, as his mouth returns to hers; he kisses her like she's worth it, like every touch of her lips, every time he tastes her, is something that deserves coming back to over and over again β and she can count on one hand the number of people who have ever kissed her that way, too. She exhales the softest of sighs into the slide of his tongue against hers and slips her hand out of his jacket to wrap her arms around his neck instead, drawing herself up and in, the hem of the sweatshirt creeping ever higher with the movement and provoking a small, reflexive shiver. ]
no subject
His palm spreads, kneading at the base of her spine before fingernails curl inward with a light scrape horizontally across the smooth skin, aiming for the opposite hip. There, he clutches, a steady hold that takes advantage of her support at his neck because he primarily relies on the strength of a bicep to lift her, free hand slipping beneath a knee.
He doesn't cease his kisses even as he transports her across the apartment to her bedroom, the familiar line towards it recognizable enough for him to achieve without the full focus of his attention. There's something to be said of that, how he knows the workings of this space with his eyes closed, that he knows the distances between her furniture from every breathtaking kiss they've stolen against them. But he doesn't think of it now, and he doesn't think of it at all, and it's only when his knees knock against the mattress that he'll lower her at its edge, freeing his hands then only to drag his jacket off of his shoulders while boots get kicked from his feet. ]
no subject
It's quiet, save the footfall of heavy boots, the occasional whimper his kisses elicit from her, hair slipping forward to gently brush the curve of his jaw before she tucks it back behind her ear, not wanting to hinder his movements in any way β but he has no problem navigating, setting her down in the bedroom so she can plant her bare feet into plush carpet and assign her hands to the task of removing some of his layers.
Her fingers assume a grip in the hem of his shirt, rolling it up gradually; she's careful, mindful of any bruises that are taking their sweet time with healing, but any revealed to still be persisting find themselves the newest target of her lips and the slow, soft kisses she presses to them while her hands settle on his waist, holding him steady under their deliberate application, as if that's all that's required for them to finally fade. ]
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It sparks a shiver, the slide of her mouth, drifting where there's still a tinge of pain, where the bruising has yet to fully heal. Only there's no resistance, no draw back from the touches when they're the opposite of unbearable.
His fingers curl through the messy locks of her hair, tucking it all back in a bunch to a single shoulder to leave a section of her neck exposed where the stealthy brush of a thumb can linger. It runs vertically where the skin stretches tight, drawing back and forth in rhythm with his shallow breaths, the vivid pulses of his heart undisguised if her mouth happens to stall there, lurching behind a dark mark from where a bullet had almost pierced through that very skin. ]
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She navigates elsewhere, to less tender expanses, her hands lightly cupping along his sides while her mouth forges its own trail across his chest; on pure impulse, she teases her lips across a nipple and then circles it with the tip of her tongue, gaze shifting upward to track the expression that results.
She'd map the whole of him solely with her mouth if he let her, leave no part of his body untouched by her hands, her kisses; she'd trace the ridges in his abdomen with her tongue, gently sink her teeth into those deep pelvic lines, nip at his inner thighs while he fists a grip in her hair and breathes her name, tease him just enough so that when she finally wrapped her lips around his cock he'd groan from the sheer relief of it, of the wet heat of her mouth soothing that swollen, desperate length. ]
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And he'd accept it, every brush of her mouth on him, the way she maneuvers it to her advantage, knowing the tricks that evoke the urgent sounds from his throat. But he remains unsettled, his own hunger growling in his core, and he gives her hair a tug, drawing her back to angle her lips upwards for him to snatch with his own.
The kiss remains messy, almost uncoordinated as his tongue rolls against hers, scolding it in turn for its teases. Breath heavy, he murmurs while barely parting from her, ] I want my mouth on you. [ He swallows, nose nudging nose, before he adds, ] I want mine on you. Yours on me. [ A compromise. ]
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It's exactly the right kind of messy, sloppy, a gossamer-wet thread connecting her lower lip to his until it breaks with the first utterance of his desire, of what he wants from her. She can't help but think back to the words he'd sent her not too long ago, about wanting to eat her out until she's trembling from it, and fuck, she knows sheβll be slick when he tastes her there, already open and ripe and ready for it now, that scrap of lace between her thighs mere moments away from being soaked straight through. ]
Please. God. [ She remembers the want she'd expressed too, about what she'd do once she gets her mouth on him, and unconsciously licks her lips, arching back just far enough to strip off her sweatshirt. ] Get your pants off.
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When the denim slides down his legs, the remaining piece soon follows, ridding himself of his boxer briefs while he's ridding himself of what's left, exposing the weight of his cock at half mass, the pooling arousal of it still actively building with every kiss, every promise of more.
He climbs upon the bed, knees shifting across the mattress until he's behind her, leaning forward for his lips to drape again her neck, still aiming for that continuous physical connection even if it's only fleeting each time. Because he doesn't cease movement, reaching for her hand and tugging to lead her further onto the bed as he shuffles backwards himself, lust and affection swirling in his eyes. ] C'mere, you.
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His lips find her neck there, that spot where it merges into her shoulder, only giving her more ideas about how they'll feel elsewhere eventually, but she has little time to react before he's already drawing her back onto the bed, his beckoning words making her chuckle quietly. She pivots to crawl up over him then, wanting the warmth of his skin against her own even if it's only for a few moments before they focus on other priorities, her free hand bracing on his chest as she swings her leg across his middle to straddle him. ]
I do like the view from up here. [ Him stretched out across her bed, strong and battle-scarred and eyes only for her, at least in this moment; she cups his face lightly in both hands and bends low to kiss him again, humming when she lets her full weight sink into the heat of his firmness. ]
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Can't say I have much to complain about on my end. [ The sway of her long waves draped across her shoulders, fallen from her crawl across him, the swell of her pert breasts, nipples attentive and practically calling for the touch of his fingertips, the sly curve of her lips that loom in to snatch at his own β he gazes upon all of it with endearment, eyes lit as if it's the first time he gets to bask in the look of her.
It's the kiss that distracts him, and while he's made his promises on what he wants, he's in no rush to halt this either, sighing against her open mouth when her body presses against his cock, hips shifting if only for that pleasant grind that transfers heat in an endless cycle between them, a satisfying accompaniment to the eager kisses selfishly exchanged. ]
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Might like it even better in a second. [ That murmur over his lips is punctuated by the slow slide of her hand between their bodies, lifting her hips to further permit a descent to where she can wrap her fingers around his length and stroke, a soft prelude to her eventual intent.
She hasn't tired of the sight of the utter pleasure that transforms his features when she touches him like this; somehow she doubts she ever will, lips moving over a strong chin before she nips at the taut skin along his jaw. ]
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And for all that she seeks, he offers; the initial touch prompts a soft subtle gasp almost instantly lost, but as she finds a more valued stroke along the shaft, his lips part with unsteady breaths, his head drawn back against her pillow, exposing the long expanse of his neck where his adam's apple bobs from a thick swallow. ]
Shit. [ He mutters, because it's good already, every corner of muscle and skin taut with anticipation and longing for her touch, her kiss, to be engulfed in every slip of possibility, groaning when she nips, not because it pains but because it revitalizes him. His own caresses encourage every sting of a bite, palms sloping along her sides, kneading heated skin until finding the hang of her breasts, thumb tracing that pointed press of a nipple. ]
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But it also feels a little like teasing in a way that's indisputably her, as much as she can delay giving in to what's basically a guarantee at this point.
She will pull away, but only because she knows he won't complain once he realizes where she's going, bracing her hands on his shoulders once more to nudge herself up into sitting, licking kiss-swollen lips while she studies him for those few, precious fractions of a minute. It'll take some maneuvering to reverse her straddle over his midsection, but that grin she flashes over her shoulder at him should be another spur in his side. ] Time for you to make me squirm.
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The exchange, however, is worth it when she's drawing back, a sense of pride and accomplishment in her gaze as she peers down to the man she's somehow managed to wrap so seamlessly around her finger with a few tacky jokes and the expertise of a sly smile. Her shifting body is what draws the lick to his own lips, watching as she twists around and she offers an alternate display of herself. ]
I'll make you do more than that. [ It's not as smooth as his previous deliveries, but his mind is hardly on the quality of his lines or the banter, not when he intends to occupy his mouth on other tasks. His palms already roam against the soft back of her thighs, ascending to where they meet, curving at the prime visual of those tight rear cheeks. While he nips anxiously at his lip, he only guides a mere thumb over the pressed folds between her legs, a single touch enough to find that heat slick with existing arousal, leaving him to rub intently over the entrance. ]
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But their verbal exchanges are going to be severely limited in a very short amount of time, and that realization sends her up onto her knees, bracing her weight there shortly before his hand slides between her thighs and he strokes over her with thick, sure fingers, fueling her need that much higher. ]
You will. [ It's a damn guarantee now, and she'll readily admit it as she shifts herself backward. He wants her thighs wrapped around his head? He's going to get them, but she stops just shy of pressing her hips down toward his face, hovering in that painfully close space, fingers of one hand dipping down to part her folds wide as her breath catches in her throat, giving him the visual of her slick and spread open. ] You want a taste?
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The mere question sends a spur of heat through him, because it's she that's reaching between her legs, long fingers gliding around her folds to part them for him, soft wet skin glistening with her arousal. ]
Yeah. [ He murmurs, a simple answer but with the purr of his low voice, it's more in the yearning found in the sound, a predecessor to his more important intentions with his mouth as he leans his head up. Lips opening wide, his tongue dips to meet that assisted entry, rolling against the parted pink of her sex, licking a long stripe to gather the first taste of her. ]
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But having him lying there beneath her, getting a front-row seat to what she looks like when she's practically dripping for him β it makes her bite her lip long before he even inclines to give her his mouth, his tongue brushing against the sides of her fingers while she glances down to see his jaw tilting upward with the motion of it. ]
Shit. [ It feels so good already and he's barely even started, and she knows she'll have no hope of staying propped up on her knees like this the longer he licks over her, but she can manage it well enough for now, sighing with every single stroke that coaxes more of her arousal out onto his lips. ]
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He could have remained in his apartment, let her have the opportunity to rest as she'd seemed to have been lulling towards; he doesn't regret making the long trip, of repeating mistakes again and again in falling into this addictive routine with her β touching her, tasting her, fucking her. They're his own private comforts, for as long as she seeks it out from him, false securities in these nights belonging to them alone.
Gripping her thighs, he lingers at her folds, stroking slow but full, sliding across the entirety of it as if refusing to miss an opportunity to blend the slick evidence of her heat with his own saliva. Yet it isn't long before his tongue takes advantage of the parted entry, gliding past to stroke it inside for as far as the muscle can reach. ]
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He's given her his mouth before but never with her kneeling over him, straddling his face, and even if she does have the advantage of being on top there's a small amount of helplessness in it too, of being bound to whatever sensation he chooses to deliver to her via the strokes of his tongue, the suction of his lips. Her hand slips out from between her thighs to brace against the mattress and then she leans forward, because she hasn't forgotten about the other desire she expressed to him once before, about taking his cock in her mouth deep enough to make herself gag, and she wants to follow through.
Of course, that's the same moment he presses his tongue into her and she freezes halfway in her crawl down his body, a sudden shudder coursing down her spine and triggering the grinding roll of her hips, seeking out that slick penetration. ] Fuck, right there.
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Any moan she releases from above, any sharp swear that bordering on pleasure, he wants to hear more, following suit with his playful tongue to fights to be inside of her, lapping at her soaked walls with fervor and hunger.
He hadn't seen himself falling into urges like this when he'd found himself in the city, hadn't considered the lust for positions like these after so long of wanting nothing, of not tending himself to pleasure when he'd adjusted the order of his priorities, but he's conscious of the weakness for it now, how merely having her there is enough to realign his wants to an altered order; tonight, eating her out until she's quivering rises to the top of that list. ]
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