She honestly wouldn't care what he called it, as long as he knew where to find it, that's all that matters, and when he does - she whimpers, not able to help where she freezes, pressing into the hand at her chest, and hips back into his fingers as he slides into her and desperately tries to take more like the demanding thing she is.
Twitching, her head falling, hair falling over her face in a mess and tacking with blood as she grins between each kiss. Her free arm curling around his shoulders, broad as they are, strong as they are. It's not really a surprise when she thinks about it. But damn if it wasn't nice to find out this way. Easy to reaching his tattoos where she's so much littler in his lap. Squirming happily between the steady pressure of his fingers fucking her open, how with each stroke, she's all - eager and slick, coating his fingers that each movement comes smoother and easier and she whimpers into the bites she begins to litter over his neck, his shoulders, that little jut of collar bones she feels out with tongue and teeth. Lapping at the blood, smeared over the both of them.
Though it's hardly listless, the more he keeps it up, the pointed those sharp little cries she begins to smother against his chest. That joy to being 19 and stupid, it never took her much to get her off, especially when it had been ages, and this place and these people leave her empty - and there was enough here already. The way he seemed to like her as it was, as much as he liked the violence, that he was hot as hell, that he was into it as much as she was. Wasn't even a little bit afraid of her. That his fingers were that little bit rough, that little bit broad, that little bit too much, that leaves her screwing her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed as it leaves her toes curling. "Ivar." His name in between little profanity said like prayers. Her voice hitching higher, mewling vibrations into his skin.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-10-04 06:43 am (UTC)Twitching, her head falling, hair falling over her face in a mess and tacking with blood as she grins between each kiss. Her free arm curling around his shoulders, broad as they are, strong as they are. It's not really a surprise when she thinks about it. But damn if it wasn't nice to find out this way. Easy to reaching his tattoos where she's so much littler in his lap. Squirming happily between the steady pressure of his fingers fucking her open, how with each stroke, she's all - eager and slick, coating his fingers that each movement comes smoother and easier and she whimpers into the bites she begins to litter over his neck, his shoulders, that little jut of collar bones she feels out with tongue and teeth. Lapping at the blood, smeared over the both of them.
Though it's hardly listless, the more he keeps it up, the pointed those sharp little cries she begins to smother against his chest. That joy to being 19 and stupid, it never took her much to get her off, especially when it had been ages, and this place and these people leave her empty - and there was enough here already. The way he seemed to like her as it was, as much as he liked the violence, that he was hot as hell, that he was into it as much as she was. Wasn't even a little bit afraid of her. That his fingers were that little bit rough, that little bit broad, that little bit too much, that leaves her screwing her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed as it leaves her toes curling. "Ivar." His name in between little profanity said like prayers. Her voice hitching higher, mewling vibrations into his skin.