song_tra_bong | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Mary Anne is pretty sure she's found the right world. That knowledge isn't as comforting as she'd thought it would be.

The trail leads her to a hotel, where she almost drops the ball. The description of the man sounds like Ramon, but the presence of two kids throw her. She almost lets it go.

Almost.

But then she figures the guy could be mistaken, or maybe it's part of Ramon's cover, or maybe...

She follows the lead.

Ramon (she's assuming it's Ramon) did a good job of covering his tracks. But there are still things to point the way: someone cleaned the cabin, stocked it with food. Even false names on rental paperwork are names, and they're names she's seen before.

(Spain, France, Switzerland)

She doesn't think she's assuming any more.

She rents a motorcycle, an offroad number with chunky tires and an engine that growls like a bear. She rides it most of the way up the mountain, before parking it and hiding it off the side of the road. She continues the rest of the distance on foot.

There's a gun in the small of her back, money and ammo in the bag at her hip; knives in all the usual places. She thinks she's right, but it's important to be prepared.

She steps up onto the porch, careful not to let the boards creak, then knocks on the door.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She moans, back arching slightly.

"Want you to find out," she gasps.

'Soon,' he says quietly against her ear. He's loving seeing her like this, not going to rush. Fingers probe lower, pushing into her as he nips lightly at her earlobe.

She moans again, pitched lower this time.

"Oh God, whenever you want."

Damn right.

He's smiling as he brushes her lips with his again, working his fingers faster but no harder, taking his time and just enjoying the sight of her. Fuck, she's hot.

Mary Anne whimpers, hiding her face against his throat.

She presses open-mouthed kisses over his pulse point, her breath coming faster.

He holds her close to him with his free arm, leaving his neck open to her because it feels nice, her tucked in there. He's looking for distractions to stop himself just ripping the rest of her clothes off and taking her right this second, so he concentrates on his rhythm and her breathing, looking for the places that she seems to like best...which doesn't help actually, because there's nothing more arousing thatn a turned-on woman. But he's trying.

"Oh, God."

The word is equal parts whine and sob.

"There, right the-aah--"

Oh yeah, right there. He slows down but stays where he is, teasing, harder then softer, faster then slower, circling then pressing. He can hear nothing but their breathing, feel nothing but her and the glorious painful pressure stuck in the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans.

The whine shifts up an octave.

"Don' tease me, baby, please--you wa-want me to beg you for it, that what you want?"

'Not yet.'

Ramon had forgotten how much he loves being in charge. He leans in and kisses her hard, pulling back just a fraction to add, in a tone deep with lust,

'You can do that when I'm sucking your clit.'

And he pulls away, kneeling up so he can pull her jeans off, finally getting to see all of her.

"God, yes."

She lifts her hips to help get her jeans off, trying to make it happen as fast as possible.

Seconds later and they're gone, just like his T-shirt. He forces himself to slow down as he pushes her knees apart (she's right there, I could just have it...) and leans over her, kissing her once on the lips before leaving a trail of them over her breasts, down her stomach and finally where he really wants to be, moaning in satisfaction as he spreads her open and the tip of his tounge begins gently licking.

She cries out softly, threading the fingers of one hand through his hair.

He's starting slow on purpose, wants to build it up, really wants her to enjoy this. It's obvious how much he loves it, he's watching her face as much as he can to see her reactions as he tickles and sucks slowly.

She's not going to have any trouble enjoying this.

Her nails rake lightly over his scalp, almost in time with her breathing.

It's nice to watch her though, nice to feel her hand in his hair. He wanted to draw this out but he can't resist slipping his fingers back inside, trying to find where she liked it before, never taking his mouth away from her.

Right about...there.

She doesn't scream, but it's a near thing. Her free hand grips the sheets white-knuckle tight.

Yeah, that was what he was looking for. He does it again, stronger, and again...then backs off immediately, going back to slow and teasing.

She groans in frustration.

"Is this where I have to start begging?"

He laughs quietly and lifts his head, but doesn't stop using his fingers.

'No. This is where you get to enjoy a whole night of fucking. Did you think I was going to let you off easy?'

Harderfaster, then slowing to practically nothing and a tug on her clit with his lips.

'Or do you just want my cock, Mary Anne? You can fucking have it if that's what you want.'

It's what it wants.

"I--aaaAH--"

What was she saying? She pauses, licks her lips, starts again.

"I juuust want you to make me come, however you want."

Ohhhh, decisions decisions. He spends a good few minutes thinking about that, alternating between conversation ('you taste sweet, might just stay down here for a few days'), trying not to think about how desperate he's getting (wantinwantinwantin) and, oh yeah, touching her exactly where she's show him she likes it, not teasing now, taking it seriously while pretending not to.

He's wanted to see her come for years, he's not about to deny her forever. So he toys with her but not too much, just helping her get ready.

"God damnnnnn..."

She grits her teeth, hips jerking into his hand.

(Thats'sitthat'sitthatis'it)

No joking now and no stopping either. His eyes lock on her face and don't move, he follows every expression while his breathing gets heavier, matching hers, pushing her along, building her up.

"'M so close, please I--I--"

The words cut off and her mouth works soundlessly, breath hitching as she teeters on the edge.