( as far as he's concerned, it is a delicacy. how could she not be, so gorgeous and sensual above him, taking and giving to herself all that she wants? his gaze traces the underside of her soft breasts to her fingers working at them, to the sway of her hair and back down to the curve of her tummy as she rides. they've done this enough — and yes, he has done this enough — to know just what she wants, just how she likes it, and when he's done something new and exceedingly right.
his chin is wet from her dripping arousal, her legs growing tense and limp in turns. he cannot help but smooth his hands over them to knead her skin and then reach for her arse, grabbing the flesh once before bringing his hands back to spank both cheeks hard.
he knows what she needs. he needs it too: to feel and want and for it to matter, if only right now. )
[she knows what she wants, and she knows he is willing to give it, that he needs and wants it too, and that alone makes everything all the better. she feels his hands slap against her ass, hard, and she cries out in surprise, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure.
she rocks against his mouth with more urgency now, knowing that she's close to reaching that peak, the release she's seeking as his beard scratches pleasantly at her sensitive flesh. her head tilts back and her eyes begin to glaze over a little as her hands continue to play with her breasts. she knows it won't be much longer now]
( just as her head tips back, just as he senses the change of restlessness of her pace, he slaps her arse again, the sound resounding in the small space. it mixes and muddles with his constant streams of moans; a soft grunt or two punctuating particularly rough and seeking grinds of her hips. he pulls at her thighs, tips his head up, all the better pay unending, ceaselessly merciless attention to her clitoris with his suckling mouth, chasing her climax just as fervently as she. only then does he spank her again, just as before. )
[another cry escapes her lips as he slaps her ass again. between the slight change of angle, and the way he relentlessly pursues her orgasm, it doesn't take much more for her to finally come. as she climaxes she feels him slap her. yet again, causing her to lurch forward, placing her hands on the bed to balance herself as she rides it out, a consistent stream of moans and sighs that eventually gives way to heavy breathing.
she rolls off of him to lie down on the bed for a moment, to catch her breath before they continue.]
( between her rutting hips and the unbridled sounds she's making, klaus is absolutely and blissfully lost in the tremors of her orgasm, his hands grasping at her hips to keep her close, his moans and grunts and heavy breaths answering her own. the satisfaction she feels is nearly paramount to his own, and he cannot help but reach for his cock in the midst of her involuntary writhing, slipping his hand beneath his thin lounge wear and wrapping a tight, stroking fist around the base of himself to temper and stoke his pleasure.
utterly gratified and yet not at all at the same time, he lets her go and pulls in a breath as she rolls over next him, removing his hand from his throbbing erection to drag a hand from his upper lip to chin, wiping away the arousal still wet on his face. he's catching his breath too, chest heaving, contented eyes on the ceiling.
eventually, he drawls softly, ) Please knock on my door more often, ( and turns his head just enough to peer over at her with a slight smirk. )
[she can't help but laugh a little at that, the sound still a little breathless. that had been one hell of an orgasm. she's already looking forward to the next one because she knows they're anything but done here.
they're just taking a small intermission, that's all.]
And here I thought you had been unhappy to see me.
( the subtle and small eye roll that commences is one accompanied by his lingering smile; there's nothing antagonistic about it. on the contrary, as his head rolls back to face the ceiling, he's considering the black mood he'd been in. ) Merely in need of a row, apparently, ( he admits, though of course the light-hearted nature of the comment omits how his troubles have not been solved.
but for now, this is enough. what he intends to communicate is that much: she's helped. )
I just needed someone who wasn't going to treat me like I was about to break.
[not that it magically fixes her problems or trauma either....but it's enough, for now. he's helped her too, and him challenging her did that as much as eating her out and helping her find release did, if not more.
but she doesn't want to bring the mood down with too much heavy talk. which is why she rolls over to her side, slipping her hand inside his lounge pants to wrap her hand around his erection, stroking it a few times, her thumb spreading some of the precum there. her smile has an almost cheeky quality to it now as she speaks again]
( klaus knows there's vulnerability even in that admission, however unspoken it had been until this moment. there's something refreshing in how she confesses to such things without shame or pretense. he knows, too, there's a calculated defense to that: no one can tear open a wound that you've already exposed yourself. he blinks after she speaks, an indefinable feeling filling up his chest. something not quite sadness and not quite fondness, but an empathetic, muddled version of the two, aged by a millennia of grieving and accepting the inevitable durability that comes with experience.
whatever response he might've had dies a little death on his lips as she turns to him and takes him in hand. for a moment, there's only pleasure as his eyes close and he exhales at the practiced attention. his hips shift slightly into her touch, and he opens his eyes to say with equal cheekiness, ) You can be the judge of that. ( with the words, his hand lifts to cradle the nape of her neck, to guide her down for a kiss.
but before her lips reaches his, he stops to murmur, ) And for the record, I never thought you were. ( that he means. that he believes. she did suffer: for him and because of him as much as anything else. perhaps that is why he confesses it now, and in return for her own. he hasn't believed for a moment she would break. )
[there was a calculation to all of it -- confessing something before she could be called out for it, and then distracting him before they could discuss it much further. wynonna may be uneducated in some aspects, but she isn't dumb, and she's clever when she wants to be. and there's about no easier way to distract a man than grabbing his cock, especially considering how long he went before he gave into touching himself.
he throbs in her hand, an answer to her own question, and for a moment she thinks she's gotten away with it -- but then right before he's going to kiss her, he speaks again. her eyes soften a little, and a mixture of emotions she doesn't really know how to identify or parse out swell in her chest. she doesn't know what to say in response to that. so instead she closes that gap between them, kissing him as her hand gives his cock a few more strokes. she is much better with actions than words. words and feelings tangle up inside of her, and usually when she tries to express them they just come out wrong.
the moment was poignant enough, they can leave it at that. he never thought she would break. that's important. she had defiantly promised lucifer she wouldn't -- but she also thinks that's because she was broken a long time ago, you can't break something that's already broken. and that's her trump card.]
( klaus is just as unwilling to give voice to those feelings he sees in her eyes as he is unable not to identify them; not to feel the danger of understanding and comfort and affection swirling like a storm in his chest. because the honest truth is this: he cares about her. he is not sure how or when or what it could possibly mean in a place like this, but he's not one to deny the obvious. not when it is so very clear, reflected back at him.
he does not need words, nor does he want them. he knows very much how futile they would be and even more how incapable she seems to part with them. he is all right with that. he prefers the seal of her lips on his instead, confirming and pushing away such sentiment with action instead. he kisses her back, full and ardent and heated, pulling her in with both arms against him and astride him. he wants her skin against his. )
[she is grateful when he kisses her back, leaving the rest behind them for now. she climbs on top of him, a leg straddling each side of him as he pulls her into his arms. she releases his cock only so she can start pulling down those pants of his. they're the last article of clothing between them, and long overdue to be rid of.
once he kicks them off she nudges him so they can roll over, ending with him looming over her. as fun as riding him earlier was, it's not what she wants now. she breaks the kiss, nipping at his lips playfully.]
I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think of anything else.
[she wants to taste that brief oblivion of pleasure once again, and she knows he'll answer her request.]
( he hums softly as she climbs over him, his arms tightening around her, relishing both the strands of hair he weaves through his fingers and her body pressed seamlessly to his. his lifts his hips up into her, seeking a slow, grinding friction, but he's just as pleased as she undresses him, and amendable when she nudges him over.
he stay aloft on his hands, elbows bent as he nestles his hips between her legs and enjoys her little bites. his cock is painfully stiff between them; there's little and hardly enough satisfaction pressed against her tummy, and when he rolls his hips, he rubs the base of his cock against her curls and feels the smearing of her arousal against him with a soft moan.
but it's her request that has him dimpling, smiling slowly; it's certainly one he can fulfill, and with eagerness. he reaches between them to take his erection in hand, pressing it against her wet folds until the opening of her sex yields, the easy penetration pulling a groan from him. he savors the embrace of her cunt on the first, thrusting slow and deep, grabbing open her thigh.
then he drops to his elbow, pressing her thigh akimbo, and starts a mercilessly quick, deep pace that has the bed shifting and rhythmically swaying towards the wall. )
[his moan is met with one of her own as he rubs against her arousal, still sensitive from the orgasm she had experienced not too long ago. she knew he wouldn't object to her requests -- for as much as he likes to be in control when she's made specific requests or conditions, he's always agreed to them without question. besides, it's not like her request doesn't benefit him too.
soon enough she feels him pressing inside of her, another moan escaping her parted lips as he does so. at first his pace is almost frustratingly slow, and yet satisfyingly deep, but then he drops down to his elbows, spreadings her things apart further so he can begin thrusting into her at a much quicker rate.
she wraps her legs around his waist, instinctually pulling him in closer to her as she rolls her hips to meet his merciless thrusts. she supposes if here's a bright side too him being temporarily stripped of his powers it means he can fully let go without worrying about hurting her.
the bed shifts against the wall and vaguely somewhere she remembers they have roommates -- but she honestly doesn't care at the moment if they end up hearing anything. it feels too good to care.]
( it seems likely that if their suitemates were to hear them, they already have, between their cross exchange and her cries of pleasure. he's not particularly concerned about a little headboard-thumping — though it would be a lie to say he wouldn't find homelander's obvious envy satisfying.
but that's hardly the thought at the forefront of his mind. what occupies him now is giving her what she wants; the slick hold of her as he presses his cock into her over and over again, rough and ceaselessly and maddeningly to the hilt. the force with which he pins her to the mattress quickly has beads of sweat dotting his forehead and creating a sheen across his body. for though his stamina may not be what it was, he doesn't need to hold back, and he doesn't, one hand reaching to grasp onto a rail of his bed for better leverage as she curls around him; clutches him closer and deeper.
his groan is low and strangled in pleasure as the dull thumping starts to resemble more of a resounding thud. every time his hips roll back, all he wants is to sheath himself deeper and harder than before; his lashes low and heavy as he watches the pleasure on her face and kisses her with pressing lips and tongue, a moan vibrating into the caress. his hand reaches to smooth back her hair from her forehead, the gesture more affectionate than helpful, for it is a precursor to cradling her face, his lips pressing against her jaw, all manner of filth whispered to her. ) All I want is my cock in this perfect body; I want to fuck you however you like and in ways you wouldn't dream. ( he grunts, hand reaching blindly to grope and hold onto one of her breasts as he fucks her, the weight of his body pining her now too. ) Such a perfect... ( the words are lost to sensation as he pinches her nipple, his breathing labored as that thudding becomes a series of dulled bangs. )
[each slam of his hips into her has her seeing stars and whatever other stray thoughts or worries she might have had quickly fade away -- which is exactly what she had wanted. to be fucked so hard her mind couldn't focus on anything other than this, than him, than how good his cock feels inside of her, pushing deeply into her again and again.
she kisses him back with equal fervor, the familiar tangle of their tongues only adding to the overwhelming sensations of the moment. a shiver shoots down her spine as he whispers filthy things to her, always a major turn on for her. she has no doubt in her mind that he knows ways of fucking her that she hasn't even thought of -- she wants all of it.]
I want you to fuck me in ways I haven't even thought of. I want you to fill my pussy over and over again until --
[her words are cut off as he pinches her nipple, causing her to cry out in pleasure. considering how sensitive her body was from that first orgasm, it wouldn't take much to drive her over the edge again, especially at the rate he's going.]
( it might be lewd to some, cruder even to others, but klaus has always liked to talk. he likes to listen too, and the brush of her breath against his ear and the very indecent requests she presents has him without all language for a blissful moment, only the embrace of her sex and the rough, hungry rutting of their bodies taking his tongue hostage. he twists the peak of the nipple between his fingers slightly with a low growl, his cock throbbing, his pulse racing at her subsequent cry; wanting more of her pleasure bordering on pain.
he grunts out helplessly with each breath, driving her into the bed, and finds his voice for a string of needful demands: ) Make yourself come, sweetheart. Touch that perfect pussy and come for me. Come on me, sweetheart; I want to watch. I want to feel it— ( because he does. he feels the precipice looming, luring him; the pressure of release in the base of his cock. )
[wynonna likes to talk too, it's just another thing that makes them compatible in this ways. it's also about the only situation where someone can demand something of her without her telling them to go fuck themselves.
so when he tells her to touch herself, well that's what she does. her hand slips between their rutting bodies to find her clit, still sensitive from the relentless attention he had given it earlier. she rubs it with two of her fingers, sending another jolt of pleasure through her body, causing her to groan out again. she's never been someone to try to be quiet when she's enjoying herself.
and between the touch of her own fingers and the way he is mercilessly pounding into her -- ]
Fuck
[she swears loudly as she comes, unable to articulate beyond that at the moment as she feels her walls crash around her. her hips continue to rock against his as she rides it out, desperate to feel him come inside her now.]
good on his word, he lifts his head to watch her face contorting in pleasure as her fingers slide between them and begin to work; watching that ecstasy and feeling her cunt start to flutter and spasm and clench has his fist white-knuckled around the rail of his headboard, his brow furrowing as he buries himself needfully into her tightening depths. when he comes that's all he feels; all he knows and sees: a tidal wave of pleasure, the bed slamming hard and sharp against the wall. his breath is nothing but gasps and open-mouthed moans as his face falls to her neck, his hands shaking but vice-like as he gives her his weight and reaches to hold her thighs as he grinds into her, spilling his seed deep.
his thrusts slow but linger, punctuated with roughness and digging fingertips as he forces himself deep, his body trembling with the strength of their climaxing, with the waning of that mounted arousal. with all the stress and helplessness and uncertainties of past few weeks.
he hums with tired satisfaction, his limbs going limp slightly before he pushes himself up, collapsing on his back beside her, eyes closed and chest heaving. )
[he grabs her thighs as he begins to come, driving deeper and deeper inside of her as she rides out her own orgasm. for a few blissful moments, that's all she can feel or think about -- he had succeeded in her request, fucking her so hard she couldn't think about anything else. not about the trauma she went through. the stress. the helplessness. nothing but this, the primal need to satisfy themselves and one another, and to have an outlet for all those pent up feelings.
it doesn't magically fix things, it never does, but for now, she feels sated and satisfied, and that is enough. it has helped, and that's important. he flops onto the bed next to her, and once again she finds herself needing a few moments to catch her breath.]
Fuck. [she then echoes his words from before:] Maybe I do need to knock on your door more often.
[before this their encounters had always been outside of their suite, but now that they've crossed that boundary once....well she has a feeling it won't be the last time, somehow.]
( it's novel, needing a longer moment to catch his breath; needing some time to not feel the exhaustion of such passionate efforts and find the will to move again. the pleasant bonelessness, however, is still the same. ) Consider it open. ( the response is served with a satisfied smile, his breath finally caught. )
[though who would want to go in her room tbh, it is a mess of empty bottles and snack wrappers....she is not good at picking up after herself. at least it's a little cleaner after whenever waverly visits.]
[the longer they lay there the more tired she begins to feel, as if she's relaxing enough to feel tired for the first time in a while. the smile she offers is a sleepy one. she should get up soon if she wants to get dressed and back to her own room....but she doesn't really feel like doing either one of those things right now]
I think that could be arranged. Play your cards right and we could even use it together.
( he hasn't slept through the night. not once, following the events after the riots. after the melees and punishments and that first sleep after his powers were stripped away. even then, that constituted more of a loss of consciousness than rest. normally, klaus rarely needs such rest, but there's no denying exhaustion is now taking its toll without the stamina and durability he once had.
he feels it seeping into him now, luring him with the relaxation that comes with their activities. he doesn't think of his paintings or his schemes, letting and keeping them at the back of his mind. for the moment, the distraction is welcome.
very welcome, indeed. a light of interest is plain in his eyes as he looks over to her. ) Perhaps in the morning... ( he rolls to his side as he speaks, sliding his hand beneath her lower back and pulling her to face him. he rests his hand there, where her back meets the curve of her arse. his eyelids are heavy as he adds, ) I'll endeavor to convince you.
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his chin is wet from her dripping arousal, her legs growing tense and limp in turns. he cannot help but smooth his hands over them to knead her skin and then reach for her arse, grabbing the flesh once before bringing his hands back to spank both cheeks hard.
he knows what she needs. he needs it too: to feel and want and for it to matter, if only right now. )
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she rocks against his mouth with more urgency now, knowing that she's close to reaching that peak, the release she's seeking as his beard scratches pleasantly at her sensitive flesh. her head tilts back and her eyes begin to glaze over a little as her hands continue to play with her breasts. she knows it won't be much longer now]
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she rolls off of him to lie down on the bed for a moment, to catch her breath before they continue.]
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utterly gratified and yet not at all at the same time, he lets her go and pulls in a breath as she rolls over next him, removing his hand from his throbbing erection to drag a hand from his upper lip to chin, wiping away the arousal still wet on his face. he's catching his breath too, chest heaving, contented eyes on the ceiling.
eventually, he drawls softly, ) Please knock on my door more often, ( and turns his head just enough to peer over at her with a slight smirk. )
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they're just taking a small intermission, that's all.]
And here I thought you had been unhappy to see me.
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but for now, this is enough. what he intends to communicate is that much: she's helped. )
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[not that it magically fixes her problems or trauma either....but it's enough, for now. he's helped her too, and him challenging her did that as much as eating her out and helping her find release did, if not more.
but she doesn't want to bring the mood down with too much heavy talk. which is why she rolls over to her side, slipping her hand inside his lounge pants to wrap her hand around his erection, stroking it a few times, her thumb spreading some of the precum there. her smile has an almost cheeky quality to it now as she speaks again]
Think you're up for another 'row'?
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whatever response he might've had dies a little death on his lips as she turns to him and takes him in hand. for a moment, there's only pleasure as his eyes close and he exhales at the practiced attention. his hips shift slightly into her touch, and he opens his eyes to say with equal cheekiness, ) You can be the judge of that. ( with the words, his hand lifts to cradle the nape of her neck, to guide her down for a kiss.
but before her lips reaches his, he stops to murmur, ) And for the record, I never thought you were. ( that he means. that he believes. she did suffer: for him and because of him as much as anything else. perhaps that is why he confesses it now, and in return for her own. he hasn't believed for a moment she would break. )
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he throbs in her hand, an answer to her own question, and for a moment she thinks she's gotten away with it -- but then right before he's going to kiss her, he speaks again. her eyes soften a little, and a mixture of emotions she doesn't really know how to identify or parse out swell in her chest. she doesn't know what to say in response to that. so instead she closes that gap between them, kissing him as her hand gives his cock a few more strokes. she is much better with actions than words. words and feelings tangle up inside of her, and usually when she tries to express them they just come out wrong.
the moment was poignant enough, they can leave it at that. he never thought she would break. that's important. she had defiantly promised lucifer she wouldn't -- but she also thinks that's because she was broken a long time ago, you can't break something that's already broken. and that's her trump card.]
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he does not need words, nor does he want them. he knows very much how futile they would be and even more how incapable she seems to part with them. he is all right with that. he prefers the seal of her lips on his instead, confirming and pushing away such sentiment with action instead. he kisses her back, full and ardent and heated, pulling her in with both arms against him and astride him. he wants her skin against his. )
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once he kicks them off she nudges him so they can roll over, ending with him looming over her. as fun as riding him earlier was, it's not what she wants now. she breaks the kiss, nipping at his lips playfully.]
I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think of anything else.
[she wants to taste that brief oblivion of pleasure once again, and she knows he'll answer her request.]
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he stay aloft on his hands, elbows bent as he nestles his hips between her legs and enjoys her little bites. his cock is painfully stiff between them; there's little and hardly enough satisfaction pressed against her tummy, and when he rolls his hips, he rubs the base of his cock against her curls and feels the smearing of her arousal against him with a soft moan.
but it's her request that has him dimpling, smiling slowly; it's certainly one he can fulfill, and with eagerness. he reaches between them to take his erection in hand, pressing it against her wet folds until the opening of her sex yields, the easy penetration pulling a groan from him. he savors the embrace of her cunt on the first, thrusting slow and deep, grabbing open her thigh.
then he drops to his elbow, pressing her thigh akimbo, and starts a mercilessly quick, deep pace that has the bed shifting and rhythmically swaying towards the wall. )
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soon enough she feels him pressing inside of her, another moan escaping her parted lips as he does so. at first his pace is almost frustratingly slow, and yet satisfyingly deep, but then he drops down to his elbows, spreadings her things apart further so he can begin thrusting into her at a much quicker rate.
she wraps her legs around his waist, instinctually pulling him in closer to her as she rolls her hips to meet his merciless thrusts. she supposes if here's a bright side too him being temporarily stripped of his powers it means he can fully let go without worrying about hurting her.
the bed shifts against the wall and vaguely somewhere she remembers they have roommates -- but she honestly doesn't care at the moment if they end up hearing anything. it feels too good to care.]
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but that's hardly the thought at the forefront of his mind. what occupies him now is giving her what she wants; the slick hold of her as he presses his cock into her over and over again, rough and ceaselessly and maddeningly to the hilt. the force with which he pins her to the mattress quickly has beads of sweat dotting his forehead and creating a sheen across his body. for though his stamina may not be what it was, he doesn't need to hold back, and he doesn't, one hand reaching to grasp onto a rail of his bed for better leverage as she curls around him; clutches him closer and deeper.
his groan is low and strangled in pleasure as the dull thumping starts to resemble more of a resounding thud. every time his hips roll back, all he wants is to sheath himself deeper and harder than before; his lashes low and heavy as he watches the pleasure on her face and kisses her with pressing lips and tongue, a moan vibrating into the caress. his hand reaches to smooth back her hair from her forehead, the gesture more affectionate than helpful, for it is a precursor to cradling her face, his lips pressing against her jaw, all manner of filth whispered to her. ) All I want is my cock in this perfect body; I want to fuck you however you like and in ways you wouldn't dream. ( he grunts, hand reaching blindly to grope and hold onto one of her breasts as he fucks her, the weight of his body pining her now too. ) Such a perfect... ( the words are lost to sensation as he pinches her nipple, his breathing labored as that thudding becomes a series of dulled bangs. )
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she kisses him back with equal fervor, the familiar tangle of their tongues only adding to the overwhelming sensations of the moment. a shiver shoots down her spine as he whispers filthy things to her, always a major turn on for her. she has no doubt in her mind that he knows ways of fucking her that she hasn't even thought of -- she wants all of it.]
I want you to fuck me in ways I haven't even thought of. I want you to fill my pussy over and over again until --
[her words are cut off as he pinches her nipple, causing her to cry out in pleasure. considering how sensitive her body was from that first orgasm, it wouldn't take much to drive her over the edge again, especially at the rate he's going.]
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he grunts out helplessly with each breath, driving her into the bed, and finds his voice for a string of needful demands: ) Make yourself come, sweetheart. Touch that perfect pussy and come for me. Come on me, sweetheart; I want to watch. I want to feel it— ( because he does. he feels the precipice looming, luring him; the pressure of release in the base of his cock. )
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so when he tells her to touch herself, well that's what she does. her hand slips between their rutting bodies to find her clit, still sensitive from the relentless attention he had given it earlier. she rubs it with two of her fingers, sending another jolt of pleasure through her body, causing her to groan out again. she's never been someone to try to be quiet when she's enjoying herself.
and between the touch of her own fingers and the way he is mercilessly pounding into her -- ]
Fuck
[she swears loudly as she comes, unable to articulate beyond that at the moment as she feels her walls crash around her. her hips continue to rock against his as she rides it out, desperate to feel him come inside her now.]
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good on his word, he lifts his head to watch her face contorting in pleasure as her fingers slide between them and begin to work; watching that ecstasy and feeling her cunt start to flutter and spasm and clench has his fist white-knuckled around the rail of his headboard, his brow furrowing as he buries himself needfully into her tightening depths. when he comes that's all he feels; all he knows and sees: a tidal wave of pleasure, the bed slamming hard and sharp against the wall. his breath is nothing but gasps and open-mouthed moans as his face falls to her neck, his hands shaking but vice-like as he gives her his weight and reaches to hold her thighs as he grinds into her, spilling his seed deep.
his thrusts slow but linger, punctuated with roughness and digging fingertips as he forces himself deep, his body trembling with the strength of their climaxing, with the waning of that mounted arousal. with all the stress and helplessness and uncertainties of past few weeks.
he hums with tired satisfaction, his limbs going limp slightly before he pushes himself up, collapsing on his back beside her, eyes closed and chest heaving. )
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it doesn't magically fix things, it never does, but for now, she feels sated and satisfied, and that is enough. it has helped, and that's important. he flops onto the bed next to her, and once again she finds herself needing a few moments to catch her breath.]
Fuck. [she then echoes his words from before:] Maybe I do need to knock on your door more often.
[before this their encounters had always been outside of their suite, but now that they've crossed that boundary once....well she has a feeling it won't be the last time, somehow.]
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[though who would want to go in her room tbh, it is a mess of empty bottles and snack wrappers....she is not good at picking up after herself. at least it's a little cleaner after whenever waverly visits.]
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I think that could be arranged. Play your cards right and we could even use it together.
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he feels it seeping into him now, luring him with the relaxation that comes with their activities. he doesn't think of his paintings or his schemes, letting and keeping them at the back of his mind. for the moment, the distraction is welcome.
very welcome, indeed. a light of interest is plain in his eyes as he looks over to her. ) Perhaps in the morning... ( he rolls to his side as he speaks, sliding his hand beneath her lower back and pulling her to face him. he rests his hand there, where her back meets the curve of her arse. his eyelids are heavy as he adds, ) I'll endeavor to convince you.
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