A/N: So I wrote this one because abadkitty loves some smut and I was in the mood to write it and now it's become a mutli-ch kinda thing. Probably no more than 3-5 chappies, though I'm not sure how fast they'll go up. This is not beta'd at all and Iris is gonna kick my ass for that.
Also…this is SMUTTY, ok? So, yeah. Just… yeah.
Here we go…
"Are you gonna stay?" He shrugs and my stomach dips with the motion of his shoulder. Because this is the game. This is what we do.
Well, it's not all we do.
I'm not sure to what degree his nonchalance is feigned, if it is at all, but I don't care. As long as he stays this way, indifferent and casual. Eagerness on his part would complicate something that works much better the way it is now.
I stretch my leg across the space between us on the sofa, resting it in his lap and letting my heel slide against the denim between his legs. He wraps a warm hand around my ankle.
"Don't tease," he says and his voice stokes my fire. Deep and gravelly, he has no idea what it does to me. My craving for the sound of it gritting out dirty words as he fucks me isn't something he needs to know about.
"I don't tease, you know that." I dig my heel in, feeling how hard he's getting under my foot. But I want him under other parts of me. Inside. Behind. On top of me.
"Maybe you should," he tells me as he slides his hand higher up my leg. His touch sends tingles up my spine and my back arches off the sofa. "Maybe you make it too easy for me." His fingers travel past my knee and despite his words, I let my legs fall open a little wider. The light material of my skirt whispers down my thighs and pools around my ass. The cool air spreads across more of my skin and it adds to my anticipation.
"You could always go." I reach down, cutting off the path of his hand with my own and slipping my fingers into my panties. "I'm an... independent girl. I'll figure something out." I'm an inch from wetness when he not so gingerly grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away.
"Don't." The edge in his voice only adds to my need for his touch. I like him this way, rough and commanding.
He releases my wrist and pulls my panties to the side with one hand, running the fingers of his other down my slit without warning. I throw my head back and suck in a breath through my teeth, but stifle my moan. I know what my sounds do to him and withholding them makes him work harder.
He rubs back up and, on the downstroke, adds two more fingers and flattens them against my clit. He knows I'm holding back.
I lose some of my patience, slumping down and grabbing his wrist. I turn his hand palm up and pull on his arm, sliding myself down onto his fingers. He curls them inside of me, stroking a place so deep that my hips twitch and swivel.
"Fucking yourself on my fingers doesn't bode well for your... independence." His attempt to provoke me falls flat. I'm done with talking. I release his wrist and reach as far as I can for him without interrupting the way his fingers continue to work inside me. My hand curls into the collar of his shirt and I tug until he leans closer. So as to avoid any confusion about what I want, I grip the hair at the back of his head with both of my hands and guide his face between my legs.
No one's ever been as good at this as he is, though I'd never say as much. He flattens his tongue and gives my clit a long, drawn out lick before circling it loosely with his lips and sucking.
My thighs tense up on either side of his head. My fingers dig into his scalp.
The pulsing suction of his lips and the curl of his fingers inside me create an unforgiving rhythm and my hips swivel against his mouth. I'm chasing what I know is coming, my chest near aching with my deep breaths, when he gives me the last push I need. Without abandoning the efforts of his fingers or lips, he begins flicking his tongue against my clit. I lose it then, crying out as my orgasm hits me.
"Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck yes..." My legs begin to shake and I close them around his head but he stays vigilant, maintaining his rhythm and only slowing as my body relaxes. He brings me back down gradually, until I'm slumped back against the sofa and boneless. He slides his fingers from inside me and bites at my inner thigh before roughly sliding my panties down my legs.
He's not done yet. The thought thrills me.
The sun is almost completely set now and there's barely any light in the room. His eyes are shadows and he's silent, but it doesn't make him any less of a presence. My skin hums with need for him. It overwhelms me in these moments, how hungry I always am for him.
Still slightly shaky, I let my legs fall open as he rises onto his knees. I hear his zipper and the rustling of his jeans. I can't see everything, but I know he doesn't remove his pants completely. I don't know if it's desperation or that he just doesn't give enough of a fuck to bother, but it doesn't matter. It makes me feel powerful in a way I can't explain.
He takes me by the best kind of surprise when he cups the back of my neck and pulls me up into a sitting position. He slides a thumb inside my mouth and hooks it behind bottom teeth, pulling me forward. I only have to lean in a few inches before the hot flesh of his cock meets my lips. He pulls his hand away, cupping the back of my neck again and guiding my head back and forth until I catch on to the pace he wants - slow and steady. His other hand is wrapped around his shaft as he strokes himself. I hollow out my cheeks and breathe through my nose as I push against his knuckles, wanting to feel more of him. All of him. My throat tickles with the need to feel his heat that deep.
He takes the hint, abandoning his grip on himself as I take him in until I gag and my eyes water. I'm rewarded when he bites out a breathless 'goddamn' and begins to thrust into my mouth. I take what he gives, bobbing my head back and forth and taking pleasure in the profane words that spill from his mouth. He rips at the top of my dress, too impatient to bother with the buttons. He snatches the fabric down my arms and I pull them free. His hands pull my breasts free and he rubs his palms across my nipples as they harden. I moan around him and he squeezes my flesh. Hard. My pace falters when he pinches at each nipple lightly. The sensation sends a jolt of need down through my core and a throbbing begins between my legs. My hips begin to thrust, seeking friction, touch, anything.
Abruptly, he pulls out of my mouth. My chest feels cold when he pulls his hands away. "Turn over."
Obeying without hesitation, I'm on my hands and knees. My muscles quiver and I clench my teeth to keep him from hearing the chatter. The rush of anticipation is almost as good as what follows.
He cups his hands over the tops of my shoulders, pulling me back and thrusting forward at the same time.
And then he's inside me, and the world fades into nothing more than this.
Bonus points to anyone who can tell me what song inspired this.