Disclaimer: see previous chapters
Author's Notes: OK, this drabble is dedicated to Fostersb who requested a gentler version of Grimmjow during sex. It's not as romantic as you probably would have liked it and I'm not exactly sure the sex is as hot as the previous drabbles, but all the same, I hope you enjoy it. ;D
And le gasp! An update not on a Friday?
Honestly, if Neliel had known how much Grimmjow was going to be affected by her off-hand remark, she wouldn't have made it in the first place.
It had been several days since The Incident. They had just finished one of their sizzling, toe-curling, marathon love-making sessions. Nel had moved to shift onto her side when her sore muscles gave a twinge of unease. She had then given the off-hand remark of whether Grimmjow knew how to take things slowly with her.
She was met with dead silence.
Nel turned to peer at Grimmjow, noting the clenched jaw, an obvious sign that he wasn't pleased. She brushed her fingers against his jaw-line, and moved to make amends before Grimmjow's attitude got the better of him. "Not that I'm complaining or anything. I'm perfectly content with the sex."
"What exactly is it about my technique that you don't like?"
"Nothing, Grimmjow. I was just saying that in all the time that we've had sex, I've never had you take it slow before."
"Because your fucking moans tell me to fuck you harder and faster, that's why."
"Grimmjow!" Nel cried, her face tainting pink.
"But if you want it slow, sure, I can give it to you slow."
And over the course of the next three days, Grimmjow tried to prove just that.
The first time he had tried to prove it, they had been in the kitchen, with Nel standing at the stove cooking breakfast. He'd moved to stand behind her, nuzzling her neck, toying with the wisps of hair on the back of her neck. Giggling, she had grabbed at his hand, bringing it up to gently bite on his forefinger before sucking it gently in her mouth. Before he knew it, he had turned her and lifted her on top of the kitchen bench, lifting her nightgown and taking her with abandonment.
He'd had a burnt breakfast that morning.
The following night, he had decided to woo her while he was half-distracted. Since there was a football match on that night, he believed it to be the perfect opportunity. It had all started as planned, Nel was busy reading over a few documents for work as she leaned against his side while he watched the game, his fingers every so often rubbing her shoulder in soft touches. It had only been a few minutes of brief touches, but as soon as Nel had finished her reading, she had set her eyes on something a lot more interesting, and Grimmjow had almost exploded when her attention had shifted down south. Literally.
He couldn't remember who the hell won that game. Nor did he blame his lack of control on himself. It was Nel's fault; if she hadn't gone down on him, he would have been able to control himself. Maybe.
The third night, Grimmjow decided that maybe it was his lucidity that was at fault. He stopped at a bar before heading home from work, and drank a few too many beers. He had whistled vacantly while walking up the stairs of his home, his arm slung over Nel's shoulder negligently, a grin plastered on his face.
Twenty minutes later, Grimmjow had flopped onto his back, breathing hard and scowling at the ceiling. Nel had snuggled into his side, her content sigh filling the room, but he couldn't relax. Really, why couldn't he take his time with her? Why was the sex between them always so fast, always so urgent, always so needy? Why couldn't he take her gently?
It was hell on his concentration at work.
He had given a surly reply to his assistant's quiet morning greeting, asking not to be disturbed. He had then sat at his desk, his feet propped up on the table as he considered possible reasons on why he couldn't take it slow. As content as Nel apparently was with their sex life, he didn't want any of his bed partners having any complaints about him, especially not Nel.
Lost in thought, Grimmjow hadn't noticed his associate partner leaning casually against the frame of his door, nor did he notice the quizzical look he gave him before a knowing smirk covered his face. Clearing his throat, Ichigo grinned as a disgruntled Grimmjow cast his gaze over at him. "Either my assistant forgot to mention to you that I didn't want to be disturbed, or you have comprehension difficulties, Kurosaki."
"Nah, she told me but I decided to come anyway, seeing as we have a boardroom meeting with the executives in ten minutes."
Grimmjow cursed and gained his feet, opening his desk files to look for the relevant files to the meeting. He really needed to get this situation figured out; he couldn't risk any mistakes with the job.
Following Ichigo's lead, they silently made their way to the elevators that would take them to the executive floor, riding in continued silence to the secured floor. Ichigo broke the silence with a casual remark. "Woman troubles?"
A fierce scowl covered Grimmjow's face, and he folded his arms. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You being all moody? Its gotta be woman troubles."
Grimmjow cursed silently before shaking his head. "Not that it's any of your business but it's not that."
The elevator dinged, signalling their arrival on the floor. As the doors slid open, Ichigo shrugged, tossing over his shoulder. "The sooner you admit that you actually care, the better off you'll be."
Grimmjow thought about it throughout the day. Thought about it til he was in a foul mood. Admit that he actually cared for Nel? That would make him weak, and he was anything but weak. Grimmjow scowled, mentally cursing Ichigo for his interference. What would he know anyway? That guy wasn't as manly as he was.
He was quiet when he got home, quiet all throughout dinner. He wasn't going to let this go on any further; he was going to prove himself a capable lover tonight.
Grimmjow waited until Nel finished showering, waited while she went through her nightly ritual of facial products before slipping into one of her silk sleeping gowns. She switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into relative darkness; the only light present was the shafts of moonlight that filtered in through the blinds.
He scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist before nuzzling her neck. She sighed softly but remained still. Frowning at her lack of response, Grimmjow placed hot, open mouthed kisses down her neck and along her shoulder, his hand drawing small circles on her stomach before sliding up her body slowly to cup a breast. He circled the nipple with his thumb, slowly enticing it into a hardened nub, causing her to shudder delicately in his arms.
"Nel," he murmured, his free hand moving to cup the opposite breast, giving it the same treatment as the other. Neliel writhed in pleasure, in anticipation, moving to turn within his embrace, but Grimmjow's arm tightened around her waist, prohibiting her from moving. All she could do was lie in his arms and enjoy his sensual torture.
He hooked his fingers under the flimsy straps of her nightgown, sliding them off her shoulder and down her arm, kissing her delicate skin, his mouth following the path of the strap. Her hips thrust back against his, the cheeks of her ass cuddling against his aroused penis. He gave a muffled groan before focusing his attention on Nel again, his hard, callused fingers sliding over the silk material covering her breasts, her stomach to lightly graze her woman's mound, keeping his touch feather soft.
"Don't move," Grimmjow murmured, lifting the hem of her nightgown to her hips, the feel of her bare flesh going to his head faster than any wine could. His fingers smoothed over the soft flesh of her thighs, moving up to the folds at the juncture. He rubbed the folds before parting them, his fingers moving to penetrate the already slick entrance. Nel moaned with pleasure as his fingers entered her, his palm cupping her woman's mound, grinding against her in a circular motion. She let out a choked cry.
"Grimmjow," she breathed, need evident in her tone. That breathy little moan of hers starting a slow burn in his gut. He grasped her chin, turning her head so that he could his her, his hard, hungry mouth closing over hers, his demand fierce and savage with need.
"You fucking make me crazy," he growled against her lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth, touching hers and demanding a response. Another whimper escaped Nel as the hard pressure of Grimmjow's mouth caused a surge of heat to wash through her, his kiss growing more forceful by the minute.
Without breaking the kiss, Grimmjow yanked at the front of her bodice, pulling the satin material down to bunch at her waist before filling his palms with Nel's naked breasts, rubbing the nipples with the calloused pads of his thumbs, sending white hot bolts of pleasure from her breasts to her loins. A desperate sound burst from Nel's throat, and she arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his palms while trying to roll over and face Grimmjow.
He pulled away from her mouth, growling at her not to move while one of his hands slipped down her body, returning back to the cleft between her legs. He didn't ease her into the onslaught of pleasure, he threw her headlong into it, his fingers searching out and finding the hidden nub between her moist flesh, rubbing, plucking, alternating between both hard and light touches until she was writhing in frenzied need.
Gasping, she begged, "Grimmjow! Stop it! I can't take it anymore!"
"Not yet," he murmured, placing quick hard kisses along her shoulder. "Just lie there and let me touch you til you're ready."
"I'm ready!" Nel cried in frustration, her hands clutching at the bed sheets as she moved against Grimmjow, rubbing her ass against his jutting penis again. Growling, Grimmjow grabbed her thigh, lifting it and pulling it back over his own, opening her body up for him. He pushed into her slowly, his free hand going to her stomach to anchor her to him as he thrust within her, going deep.
Her inner clasp clamped down around him eagerly, milking him, and Grimmjow clenched his teeth as the hard urge to pound into her til orgasm rose within him. Ignoring the desperate need, he started an easy pace, listening to her whimpers, her cries as she strained ever so closer to orgasm. Suddenly, her body stiffened, and she gave a high keening sound as she came. Grimmjow held himself still within her as she turned her head to muffle her sounds of pleasure into the pillow.
When she was able to breath again, Grimmjow slowly brought her to readiness again with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. He resumed his earlier pace, tightening his hold around her waist as her earlier climax made it harder for him to maintain an even pace. She climaxed again, crying out, her hands clutching at him. Grimmjow gritted his teeth, no longer able to hold back, and he buried his head into her hair as he shuddered with his own release.
In the quietness that followed, with Grimmjow's fingers stroking slowly, soothingly over her body, Nel lay exhausted, her body throbbing with spent pleasure. She turned her head to look back at him, a lazy smile covering her face. "If I ever have the bad taste to complain about your lovemaking, please shut me up."
Grimmjow smirked in reply. "My pleasure."