Ivar has rarely had sex this good. Despite all his fumblings thus far, Gaige seems to know what to do so that the rhythm they've got going isn't lost at all. He can feel the two of them joined together now, their bodies entwined so close together. He clutches at her with something close to desperation, as if he's afraid this is a dream he's going to wake up from soon.
He rolls his hips in a way to keep things going and then listens for a moment to Gaige as she urges him to hurt her.
That's all the encouragement he needs really. He lifts his mouth from her lips over to the side of her neck, biting at the thin skin far too hard to be called a mere hickey. He wants to tear it, taste the blood beneath it. One of his hands is pressed tightly around her waist. He's sure that he's going to leave marks she'll remember him by.
The reaction is immediate. Her hips snapping into his with a stolen cry, sharp and pleading, knees squeezing tightly. He feels so good, that pain and blood and heady mess of they probably shouldn't be here, and whatever the magic of it is that she doesn't care to understand just that it feels so good right now. Chasing that fixed sort of nothing with utter purpose. How her breath feels her lungs, how the taste of his skin and his lips fills her head.
Fuck, fuck. Too much. It's good to be young and stupid, it's good to be young and not need to know better, because as he scores her as deep as bullets through a shield, it's enough. "Oh, fuck, Ivar." Fuckfuckfuckfuck - She sobs when she comes. Locking her body around him so tightly, the long, crying noise that tears out of her that's all rough before pretty, her metal hand gripping onto the chair, her real hand scratching down his back, gripping hard into his skin. That welcome shake in her limbs that turns her rhythm off-kilter, needy small little twitches where she has him as deep as she can and her thighs are shaking.
Doesn't let her stop, not even for a second, even when the overwhelmed cries turn to whimpers she buries against his throat, her spine curving to press her body into his, face tilted up. That peak all acid-hot, gripping him, all ripped out of the back of a magazine you find in a bandit clan in crudeness that feels so right, right now. That she didn't want him to stop fucking her, hurting her, didn't want him to stop being in her and grinding hard against him. All fucked up and open, here always, if she can just have more. Her body holding pliantly into him like he was the only thing holding her up, and it was more than a little true.
He keeps going, full of the fire and vigor that only someone full of life at the age of nineteen can possess. Then he climaxes with a sudden jerk, the hand holding onto Gaige's waist pressing tight enough to leave deep black-and-blue marks, while his entire frame goes stiff and rigid for a moment. There's deep, primal cry that escapes his throat almost like a battle cry.
Then he just slumps there in his chair, as boneless as his nickname would suggest right now. The level of bliss he was at right now couldn't be measured in quantifiable terms. He hasn't been this happy in a very long time. Covered in blood, sweat, and what's likely going to be quite a few marks forming, he feels very content.
She kisses his throat through it, rocking, twitching every little bit of that jerking high out of him. Or as much as she can when he's hiding her in a vice grip, held tightly, where he's thrust all the way inside of her. Letting him enjoy it as much as she does. Overstimulated and blood-soaked. Sated with sex and ripping themselves to pieces. It leaves her toes curling against the cooler air, in the after-shocks like a bomb drops.
Gaige rubs her face affectionately like a cat marking its territory, as they come down. Knows she's a mess, or that they are as a whole. Naked on top of him where he's still half-dressed in comparison, his handprints both now marked in red and she can tell, later will bruise into her hips by the time she wakes up later. But that's something to worry about later if it's even worth worrying about. Like that she probably needs to ask someone what the hell birth control was like in magic whatever land, because ah, fuck, he came in her, didn't he? That sticky feeling she'll worry about later. Right now, it's too late and too content to care, she stretches out.
Or maybe it's just pride. Got him going just as good as he got her. Made him go all kinds of undone, just like he made her.
"Think I like this worshipping your Gods thing. Kinda fun."
Nuzzling against him, head buzzing empty, the edge from too many days not fighting finally taken off, she feels good.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-11-07 07:25 am (UTC)He rolls his hips in a way to keep things going and then listens for a moment to Gaige as she urges him to hurt her.
That's all the encouragement he needs really. He lifts his mouth from her lips over to the side of her neck, biting at the thin skin far too hard to be called a mere hickey. He wants to tear it, taste the blood beneath it. One of his hands is pressed tightly around her waist. He's sure that he's going to leave marks she'll remember him by.
no subject
Date: 2019-11-15 07:41 am (UTC)Fuck, fuck. Too much. It's good to be young and stupid, it's good to be young and not need to know better, because as he scores her as deep as bullets through a shield, it's enough. "Oh, fuck, Ivar." Fuckfuckfuckfuck - She sobs when she comes. Locking her body around him so tightly, the long, crying noise that tears out of her that's all rough before pretty, her metal hand gripping onto the chair, her real hand scratching down his back, gripping hard into his skin. That welcome shake in her limbs that turns her rhythm off-kilter, needy small little twitches where she has him as deep as she can and her thighs are shaking.
Doesn't let her stop, not even for a second, even when the overwhelmed cries turn to whimpers she buries against his throat, her spine curving to press her body into his, face tilted up. That peak all acid-hot, gripping him, all ripped out of the back of a magazine you find in a bandit clan in crudeness that feels so right, right now. That she didn't want him to stop fucking her, hurting her, didn't want him to stop being in her and grinding hard against him. All fucked up and open, here always, if she can just have more. Her body holding pliantly into him like he was the only thing holding her up, and it was more than a little true.
no subject
Date: 2019-11-23 06:59 am (UTC)Then he just slumps there in his chair, as boneless as his nickname would suggest right now. The level of bliss he was at right now couldn't be measured in quantifiable terms. He hasn't been this happy in a very long time. Covered in blood, sweat, and what's likely going to be quite a few marks forming, he feels very content.
no subject
Date: 2019-11-25 08:54 am (UTC)Gaige rubs her face affectionately like a cat marking its territory, as they come down. Knows she's a mess, or that they are as a whole. Naked on top of him where he's still half-dressed in comparison, his handprints both now marked in red and she can tell, later will bruise into her hips by the time she wakes up later. But that's something to worry about later if it's even worth worrying about. Like that she probably needs to ask someone what the hell birth control was like in magic whatever land, because ah, fuck, he came in her, didn't he? That sticky feeling she'll worry about later. Right now, it's too late and too content to care, she stretches out.
Or maybe it's just pride. Got him going just as good as he got her. Made him go all kinds of undone, just like he made her.
"Think I like this worshipping your Gods thing. Kinda fun."
Nuzzling against him, head buzzing empty, the edge from too many days not fighting finally taken off, she feels good.