song_tra_bong | (no subject)

Exactly how he wants her to be. And he takes his time, they've got plenty of it. Every last bit of that tattoo gets attention from tongue or lips, he works from bottom to top and by the time he gets to the tip of the hilt, his fingers are pushed back inside her, working a steady rhythm while his thumb keeps pressure on her clit.

She making noises almost continuously now--soft, desperate and needy. They're only fragments of words, but something that might be 'please' figures prominently.

He can't wait any longer - this is getting to be torture. His slides a hand under her thigh and pushes it upwards, moving to fit himself between her legs from behind. It takes a moment to find the right angle but then he pushes in, just an inch, groaning at the tightness round the most sensitive part of his cock.

'You want this?' he murmurs in her ear, through clenched teeth. 'Tell me you want it.'

"Of course, I want it," she hisses through clenched teeth.

"Can't tell me you can't feel it, and you can't tell me you don't want it just as bad."

He laughs, though it's a strangled sound.

'Got me there.'

And wastes no more time, pushes into her with one sharp thrust, starting a rhythm that's fast and hard.

She moans, rocking back against him as one hand scrambles for purchase on the edge of the bed.

got you here got you now got you always

He grabs her hip and holds it hard, all the better for pounding it into her. The hand not holding him up grabs her breast, squeezing and kneading as he groans at the tightness of her.

She hates that she can't see his face, hates that she can't hold him properly, but in the end she doesn't care because it feels too fucking good.

Her other hand reaches back, nails scraping over his hip and thigh, just wanting to touch him.

He hisses out at the pain; it makes this better, sends new waves of pleasure through his body.

'Sadist,' he says, amused though his voice is strained.

She laughs raggedly.

"And you love it."

'Maybe.'

He laughs too and pulls out of her, shifting to sit at the end of the bed with his back against the wall.

'Come here.'

She pouts, but rolls over and follows him.

He points down the bed, away from him.

'Face that way.'

Mary Anne slings a leg over his hips and lowers herself back down onto his cock with a groan.

"Oh, God--"

'Ohhhyeah.'

His head falls back, gripping her hips as she moves on him, pushing up into her as best he can. He's not watching her on purpose; it always drives him crazy.

She braces her hands on his thighs, rocking down to meet him.

He groans, deep in his throat and lets go of one hip, places his hand on the blade of the tattoo, scratching lightly.

'You look good. Feel fucking great.'

And then some.

She shudders, fighting the urge to twist awayinto the touch.

"You make me feel good," she gasps.

'It's not hard.'

He smirks, then leans forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest.

'Better enjoy it while it lasts. I expect your husband will be stopping it soon enough.'

He's murmuring it into her neck, breathing hard because he hasn't stopping moving in her.

She growls.

"Gave him a chance a long time ago, to tell me who I didn't get to fuck. He doesn't get to change his mind now."

not just because it's you

Another smirk that she can't see.

'Yeah.' Good. And he releases her, pushing her forward with a hand on the back of her neck and holding her there. Firm but not rough.

'Move then. I want to see you coming.'

"You got it, honey."

She picks up the pace, bracing her hands against the mattress so she can move that much faster.

Such a good girl, fuck sogood...

It's approximately thirty seconds before the increased speed has him gasping, watching her slide up and down his cock makes him so hard he can hardly take it, tensing with the arousal curling up into his belly and down his thighs.

'Ahhh yeah, s'good like this...'

He's stroking her tattoo slowly, almost absent-mindedly, enjoying the feel of the muscle working under her skin.

'Keep going, don't stop.'

Her breath catches slightly with each touch, and her head lolls back as she tries to remember to move and not just lose herself in sensation.

"I want--" She licks her lips, mouth gone dry. "I want to come, want you to make me come, please baby--"

'I will, don't worry.'

Right now he's concentrating on not coming first, taking a moment to think blank thoughts in his head. Difficult. Very difficult. But he does slide a hand over her thigh - leaving the other to scratch down the sword - and lays it between her legs, letting her movement rub against the heel of it but not helping her any more than that.

'Soon.'