( there were many that came to such decisive feelings about izzy, baby certainly wasn't the first: surprise. despite the brazen way in which she held herself, the inky black of her hair and boasting red of her lips, outfits that commanded attention and suggested comfort-confidence, there were not many pieces of her that weren't soft. she held passion between her teeth, a heart swollen far too large to fit so petite a frame, and no differently did she give herself to another in bed as she did at their side, in defense.
maybe he doesn't realize just how exposed she is, how open, how terrifying it is to look up at him like this and not be able to tear herself away. despite the shiver that kisses up her spine as he strokes her into her, consistent and determined, the way he praises her side and soon after lets cotton fabric of her dress fall along her shoulder. a snicker, airy and interrupted by a near-silent gasp— )
Are you disappointed?
( lighthearted enough to be taken as gentle teasing, teeth revealing just a moment to a smile once more before she's biting to same lips, hips giving a subtle write upward against his wrist. )
Fuck, no. [ He curses rarely; under duress and anger that he dislikes feeling, usually, or in times like these, where he is so overwhelmed he can't think of any better word to convey his feelings. Because he is not disappointed; he is surprised and taken and enthralled and listening in to every gasp, every breath, every tick of her heart, her body singing in ways that mean more to him than most.
He exposes her shoulder and looks up, grins at Isabelle through the haze of arousal clouding his vision. ]
Not complaining at all. [ He puts his lips to her shoulder, his hand moving down to her thigh, lifting her leg to fit around his hip, changing the angle of his fingers inside her just so. He circles his thumb over her clit, moving his fingers deep and slow. He kisses his way along the curve of her shoulder, tasting skin, and travels up to her ear, nose against the shell of it. ]
What will it take to make you completely lose it, Isabelle? Tell me what I should do.
( she can tell such words don't often hold a place around his tongue, a certain breathlessness to the way he pronounces them, like it's far more reflexive than it is choice— if she weren't otherwise preoccupied, she may have a bit more time to revel in it; how she still manages to affect him even given he's reigned in that upper hand.
it's instinctive, then, once he's ducked in to the line of her shoulder, for hues to close and crown of black to tip backward against the pillow, craning if only to give him proper room to map out such a tender canvas of flesh, some of the most sensitive dips and inches of her left exposed by a draped dress. fingers in his hair relieve their clutch, smoothing nails along his scalp til she's at his nape, kneading there in gratitude from his mouth's affections.
another flutter of a gasp, brows pinching together just as a petite mew punctures the brief space between them. ) Just don't- ( a sharp breath, head fallen to the side for temples and cheeks to brush as he murmurs against her ear. ) Don't stop, Baby. Faster. ( last word barely holds a tone, toes curled against the sheets and shoulder blades pinched together, cradling him in against the crook of her neck. )
[ It's definitely not the kind of stuff he's used to say - but the reaction he gets is worth all the effort. Her breathless words, that plea, it's enough to make his knees weak and his cock twitch in interest. He groans, lightly, dropping his head back to her shoulder, pressing his nose into her skin, wishing he never had to move from here and now.
At the same time, he follows her command, his tongue tracing the rune on her neck as he quickens the rhythm of his fingers, just before he adds a third. There are a few things Baby is extremely certain of; one is that he is one of the best drivers around, and another is that he has a pianist's fingers, long and lean, and he's learned how to use them to his advantage - with pianos, but also with instruments a million times more delicate and incredible, like Isabelle. ]
( that groan ignites her, causes velvet walls clasped around his fingers to give a dull, rich throb— making that draw of his fingers all the more riveting. it's becoming all the more difficult to subdue her own sounds, especially when he plants them against her skin like such wicked prayers, begging to be heard. he does more than oblige to her breathy request, tongue sending a violent shiver down along her spine as he stretches her out further, that third digit doing wonders to increase the pleasure tenfold.
she's never been shy about her need, but it's the first time he's witnessing it that makes her the littlest bit bashful— the way fingers flex back into his hair, equal efforts to both tug him back and desperately keep him in place, familiar tendrils of heat beginning to swirl within her abdomen, tightening further every time fingertips prod to that favored spot of hers.
and once he's found it, there's a hearty moan to let him know, his name hidden in it's end as a trembled pant, trying for what she can to keep hips from rutting up against him, seeking out more. ) Carajo, just like that. Just-- ( own lips stumble across his ear, breaths dwindling further off track, crescent of her nails biting at his side, having snuck up beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin. )
[ The touch of her fingers to his skin is like electricity, and he shivers right against her, the two of them so close he isn't sure where he ends, and where she starts. He wants to live right here, with her body against his, being able to feel her from calf to the tips of her hair tickling his nose when he moves, undulating along with her, his hips following the move of hers as his dick shows itself to be more and more interested, brushing the inside of her thigh.
If he was someone else, he'd probably tear off her dress, but he is who he is; still more willing to watch her come apart under his hands than anything else, willing to ignore his renewed erection as he fucks her with his fingers, pressing himself close to feel her, more than to watch her. This way, this close, he can hear her better, the breathy gasps and soft moans. This close, he can feel her better, the contractions of muscles and clenching around him. This close, he can touch her better, the angle of his wrist perfect, her skin close enough to taste.
( it's not going to take her long, not with the way he's moving with her, with the fact that she can feel his cock begin to stiffen against the warmth of her thigh and once more realize it's because of her, because of this that he can't help himself. how tempted she is to rid them of the rest of the clothing keeping them apart, how she craves to feel the heat of his skin brushing bare against her own, fit him between her thighs and let him slip inside of her where she wants him most— but god, it feels too good to stop.
the last thing she wants is for him to stop.
it's the consistency, that unrelenting tease of lengthy digits inside of her that sends her barreling closer to release, slightest sheen of sweat glimmering beneath her collars, attempting to find some sort of means to warn him of how rapidly he's tugging her under, how that crest begins to build, and build further, yet. she needs it— how long has it been? shes too dizzied to recall, clutched helplessly to him. if nails given the subtlest puncture to his skin, she's unaware, soft whimpers intermixing with her breaths. )
Baby, I'm gonna cum- ( syllables broken, a plea she doesn't properly know how to voice. )
[ The rush, the rush of feeling Isabelle let go of her control is so good it could make him come right along with her. There's a hint of pain in the pleasure, too, when he feels her nails dig under his skin, by the side of his spine, a counterpoint to how good he's feeling, keeping him grounded, in the moment.
Her words, broken up and interspersed with moans, just make Baby keep going with more determination than ever, absolutely dead set on getting her there without delay. He speeds up some more, her sweat mingling with his when he presses his forehead to her temple. ]
C'mon, gorgeous, I've got you.
[ His words are mere murmurs against her ear, as he slams his fingers into her, following the rise of her hips without missing a beat, his heart beating hard in his throat. ]
( i've got you.. so typical of words to find another's tongue, a sentiment that can be thrown about without sincerity, without meaning; the way he says it reverberates through her, like a blanket of calm amidst that careening pleasure, drawing her body like a taut bow in which begs to snap. chest arches, tremble raking through thighs that ache to clasp together, as if part of her sought any way to relieve the maddening pressure taking her over.
there's fingers tangled in his hair, maintaining a fervent fistful of the strands within her grasp as the other does nothing but cling to his frame, noises diminishing to a higher, sweeter octave of whimpers, unintelligible sounds all she can manage. and then all at once it escalates a little too quickly, a little too far, and a gasp is all that's managed before it hits.
isabelle nearly cries for him the moment that first wave wrings through her, a tone so naturally velvet and composed utterly wrecked by the deafening fire licking through each of her limbs, shooting up her spine and zinging to fingertips. it's all she can do to keep hold of him, all that seems to keep her together while she breaks, bronzed frame beneath him writhing, digits tugging and purchasing, tongue useless other than to thank him in form of shaky moans. )
[ He couldn't move right now, even if he wanted to. She's wrapped up around him, all over him, making him wonder if they've not fused in reality - and the thought doesn't displease him. He would rather be here than anywhere else, letting her ride his fingers as much as she needs to, holding her through it, breathing hard against her neck. He's not sure which way is up at this point, completely lose in the feeling of Isabelle all around him, mindblowing.
He keeps his fingers inside her as she pants and moans and writhes, keeping her cradled in his embrace, his thumb releasing the pressure off of her clit in increments as he drops kiss after kiss along the curve of her neck, never able to get enough. ]
Oh, wow.
[ There's no mockery in his tone, just pure awe. He pulls back just enough to look at her face, fingers pushing some stray strands of jet black hair off of her face, amazed by how they stick with sweat in places. The look in his eyes is I ust thoroughly, impossibly taken. ]
( it's those peppered array of tender kisses that allow her to come down, pulse thundering within her chest, each column of her neck, an echo between temples. for the moment, he's all she can feel, hear, see as eyes finally after a delayed period blink open to find his own waiting there, just as patient as the rest of him. there's still those little pulses silken walls give around his fingers, aftershocks of her finish, having left her in a dreamlike haze.
all she can offer is a lazied smile, relinquishing that unforgiving grip to his hair in favor of touch falling to the nape of his neck, miniature circles being drawn there with her fingertips. a low, sated hum comes from the bed of her throat, attempting to find an even tone. )
Am I okay? ( mostly rhetorical, grin nearly giddy as it blossoms wider about her mouth, and given now she has some bit of mind to focus on something other than vehemently clutching onto him, she's slowly raveling that shirt of his up along the span of his back, gentle indication that she'd like it gone. hues give a suggestive glance down between them, where the heat of his cock, rigid once more, rests against her thigh. )
Are you? ( maybe it's taunting, despite how her voice still rings with awe, tipping her head just enough to ghost their lips together. )
[ It's impossible for him not to blush at her smile, at the way she tugs on his shirt, obvious in what she wants. He's feeling a little shaken, as he pulls away, reluctantly, his fingers slipping out of her heat when he moves to his knees between her legs, and drags his shirt over his head, feeling exposed under her gaze. He keeps a hand on his lower stomach, where a small patch of white, spiderweb-like scars have never disappeared after the accident. There are a few more, dotted over his chest, but he hardly ever thinks of them these days.
He still can't quite believe what just happened - what he just did - but when he brings his fingers up towards his mouth, licking them clean while looking straight at Isabelle, her taste is an assault on his senses that he can't, nor would he want to, deny. The way he licks his fingers is a little lewd, but he doesn't stop until they're clean, and then he leans back down, hands supporting his weight on either side of her head. ]
I'm fine, [ he says, and he means it. He could let his erection die down and not feel dissatisfied. Not right now. ] I can't believe this... you... Fuck. You're driving me crazy.
( she notes the hesitancy to which he draws away from her, like there's something other than remaining close to the heat they share that steels him a moment before he's left kneeling before her, like a stature she's not quite sure just yet how to put to words. she wouldn't exactly classify herself as holding a type, but everything with baby... it's as if she'd had no say in the matter, feelings unfolding and attractive rapidly blooming alongside it.
that soft, quiet tremor to her exhale isn't only because of the orgasm he'd so determinately given to her, but the way her mouth dries to the sight of him stripping off that shirt, his lean frame giving way to creamy flesh beneath, kissed with scars just as her own. she's about to draw her touch towards them, assure him he needn't keep them covered, not from her, but then he's making a show of pink tongue curling around his fingers, her all over them, and god if she hadn't been doomed before.
she can't take her eyes away from it, unable to hide how spellbound she is by the action, just as so when he's hovering above her again, now given the opportunity to score each of her palms down along his chest, branching out to each side once she nears his midsection. ) You have me.
( words transcend far more than in the physical sense, but they can tackle that later, reaching back to release the clasp of her dress above undone zipper, pressing the material down from her shoulders, revealing the stark black lace of her bra as it's managed further out of the way, eyes with his all the while. she's driving him crazy? well, that calls for one response: ) Show me, Baby.
[ He tries to keep his breathing steady as she touches him, but he's unable to suppress a shiver, not feeling like she's judging his flaws, the broken parts of him that still remind him too much of painful memories. She only looks as transfixed as he does, and it does nothing to make him any less flushed and pleased.
His eyes travel down to her chest, her bra, which seems to barely be able to hold her breasts; he wants to see them spilling out, into his hands, touch her with his fingers and his tongue even more than he already has. She is breathtaking when dressed, and just worldbreaking half-naked.
But then she says, show me, and his breath catches in his throat. He swallows hard, finding his words slowly. ]
Do you - want to? I have condoms, I just - I wouldn't assume.
( izzy wasn't one to shy from intimacy when it came to having another this way, feeling them, and while there was a certain appeal, at times, to giving in to haste while layers were still gathered and pressed to the side amongst their figures, she wants to feel him. all of him, with nothing keeping them apart. despite how it may appear, how she carries herself, there's something to be said for the way he strips her just with his gaze alone, how he leaves her just as struck, just as taken.
a slow nod, wishing she could quiet all of those flaring doubts within his thoughts, searching betwixt his hues before she's cradling the side of his jaw, using it's edge to gingerly bring him closer for a delicate, lingering kiss. petals part one by one, naturally, tasting a hint of herself on his lips. )
I want you. ( admission finds itself on a whisper, and the confession is far from dirtied, wavering instead with ardency, an appetitive passion she doesn't quite know what to do with. )
[ He nods then, pushing in for another kiss, needing the tiny moment of quiet to put his thoughts together, and make sure his limbs still work. He loves the peace she brings to him with so few words, with just a look and a smile and a small affirmation, enough to stop the uncertainty. She wants him, as much as he wants her, and he can only give it to her.
He pushes himself off again, leaving her sprawled out on his bed as he stands by it, finally pushing both his pants and boxers off and leaving them in a messy pile on the floor, finding himself naked in front of her, for the very first time, and hopefully not the last. He goes to his nightstand to grab a condom, and then joins Isabelle back on the bed, fingers curling in her dress and pulling it off, gently, fingers caressing her thighs as he does. ]
Jesus Christ. [ He can't help the words falling from his lips as she's left in front of him in her lingerie, making his stomach twist with want again, his cock giving a hearthy lurch as he looks at her. ]
( it's a wicked pace that's caught hold of her heart once more, thrumming it against bounds of ribs, ankles rotating and legs smoothing along the sheets during the brief time in which he's away from her, and not once does her gaze stray. she does what she can to assist him, once he's kneeling back before her again, giving the slightest lift of hips and bottom to allow that fabric of her dress to be peeled from her curvature.
it isn't the first time she's been exposed to another, not in the least, but with the way baby looks at her... the way those praise-heavy words fall from his tongue again like he can't find anything else to possibly give her, it may as well be; causes a vibrant flush to kiss her cheeks, a restlessness evident in the way she finds it difficult to stay still beneath him.
the smile she offers is faint, tender-hearted and dare he achieve it, even shy— and she's swallowing, licking her lips, and one by one she's raising to each of her elbows, causing their noses to just nearly brush as she reaches back with a single hand, easily releasing the clasp that keeps plentiful breasts in place. )
[ When she undoes her bra, he lets out a violent noise of pure hunger, reaching out to draw the straps down her arms, eyes just as hungry as his mouth as he looks at her. He's naked, by he doesn't feel any more exposed than she is, not when she's letting him see more and more, by increments. It's so intimate, and Baby feels like he's going to burst right out of his skin.
He doesn't hesitate when he leans down, pressing his face between her breasts, hands reaching up to press them closer to his cheeks, looking about to motorboat her. He doesn't - he just stays here for a moment, breathing in the smell of her skin, before he starts kissing, turning his head and finally starting to move, until he's captured a nipple between his lips, tongue flicking against it. When he pulls away, with an obscene, wet sound, he looks up at Isabelle, as he moves himself closer, his cock sliding in the bend of her hipbone. ]
( that husky noise of his makes a home just between her thighs, causes heat to clutch around nothing, tempts lids to fall into a dazed close once more, but she doesn't let them. not when he's burrowing himself within the valley of her breasts, sensitive and pink buds already perked with the slight chill of the room in contrast to the way they burn.
a breathy moan left to hum between bitten-together lips as the warmth of his mouth closes around the bud, appreciative card of nails through his hair, attuned to every single sound— senses still teeming from how lusciously he'd not so long ago pulled her through release.
there's a snicker, but it isn't mocking, nor any sort of chide as much as it is amazement that he holds so much concern for her approval, her voiced permission. it's something to be respected, of course, though she can't imagine there would be many answers in the negative to such a request. twin palm finds itself around his lower back, tugging as to bring him closer, and if it weren't indication enough-- )
Hermoso. ( a means to take his attention, for him to truly listen to her, swiping thumb beneath the full bed of his lower lip. ) Something tells me you won't have any problems doing so.
[ And with that, he surges up for an even more intense kiss, licks at her lips, requesting entrance as he rolls his hips into hers, hand closing around the condom again. There's a part of him that wants to apologize for how eager he is, how unable he is to take his time when he is way too worked up, when he wants her so bad he is shaking with it. ]
I want you so much.
[ He whispers against her lips, fingers fumbling at the condom, but getting it open, and, as carefully as he can, rolls it over his cock, blowing out a breath as he looks down at what he's doing for a moment, looking between her breasts; an incredible view. ]
( thighs part for him to nestle perfectly between, crown of tousled strands lifting from the pillow just enough to meet the kiss with reciprocated fervor, lips parting to allow his tongue amidst the hot cave of her mouth, toying her own in a smooth dance against it. there's a soft huff in complaint as it detaches, the soothing trails of fingertips having too quickly turned to grasps against him once more, hooked around his shoulder where fingertips press into the skin.
the anticipation enflames her, breaths scattered and gaze following his own, watching as he rolls that condom onto place, a quite note of appraisal at his size hidden within a hitched inhale. the moment he's aligned himself she's tucking his sights back upward to his, two digits placed beneath his chin, noses and lips aligned and just barely grazing. she wants to watch him when he fills her, wants to lay witness to every little twitch of pleasure that takes him over.
a faint mew, brows subtly furrowing. ) I'm yours, Baby.
[ He takes it as a punch to the gut, agony and amazement all rolled into one, his eyes lifting to meet hers as he pushes inside her, slowly, inch by inch. He breathes out hard, holding the base of his cock as he slides in, all hairs on his arms rising as he does. Once he bottoms out, he stops moving, eyes blown wide and dark as he looks at her. ]
Izzy - oh.
[ He swallows hard, his voice sounding wrecked, and he gives a tiny roll of his hips, his hands fitting around hers, holding her against him, like he's worried she's going to move away. He's already sweating again, and he clenches his jaw as he starts moving, sliding out of Isabelle almost all the way before moving back back in, hard and deep. ]
( breath holds itself at the back of her throat as plush tip sinks into her, stretching her apart inch by inch, walls responding in kind by hugging themselves around his width, mouth slowly— slowly falling into the gape of a silent vowel. it's the moment he gives that last, little push to leave him to her hilt that it's expelled, a crisp pant causing chest to tremble, every surface inch of her skin alive and humming with so palpable a want. )
G-od, cari. ( she's thankful for the clutch of steady hands to her hips, for something to keep a body that begs to write still to better feel every bit of vigor he fucks her with, and the withdraw is made all the sweeter by the way he punctuates that second thrust, dark hues rolling heavenward, nails leaving lithe, red swells along the plane of his back as they graze downward.
she's hungry for it, needs him, every ounce of energy renewed in full by how incredible it is, how full she feels. ) Yes.
[ Every move of her body is encouragement, and pushes Baby to move harder, faster, his very tenuous grasp on control slipping fast and far, and he buries his face in her neck again, hips snapping into hers now, his moves shorter but harder. His hands slip down along her legs a little, just touching as he licks at her skin, eyes closed tight.
He's talking now, or maybe he's singing, he's not entirely sure, humming nonsensical words and melodies, expressing out loud he music she's writing in his head, a symphony building the two of them, music of skin moving against skin, moans and groans and Spanish and English and the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life, against him, under him, all over him, under his skin.
She feels so good, so incredibly tight and hot and he wants to never not be inside her. It's almost too much, and he moves his hands again, up along her sides, hands squeezing at her curves, wanting to memorize every inch of her, wanting to map her out in his mind, wanting to find out every single way he can make her moan. ]
( he doesn't leave room for any pleas to stumble across her tongue for more— harder, faster, anything —he's already taken her under, a mutual desperation moving their bodies of their own accord, impossibly in sync as hips begin to roll up in time with his own, despite his grasp. she knows he can feel, taste the wild thrum of her pulse against his tongue as he discovers her neck anew, lays affection to it that she barely registers given the swell of pressure every time he jars her upward, and she wants him aware of it.
wants him to witness exactly what he's doing to her.
single hand falls to the sheets beside her head where she finds clasp of soft cotton, tugging it toward her. it's all garnering for her attention: the quiet smacks of skin on skin every time his hips meld flush with hers once more, how their breaths trip in time with the rhythm, moans and whimpers left only to stutter to gasps. his name intermixes within, tilting head in order to drag brims across the rim of his ear. )
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killertrack) wrote2017-09-01 07:34 pm
no subject
maybe he doesn't realize just how exposed she is, how open, how terrifying it is to look up at him like this and not be able to tear herself away. despite the shiver that kisses up her spine as he strokes her into her, consistent and determined, the way he praises her side and soon after lets cotton fabric of her dress fall along her shoulder. a snicker, airy and interrupted by a near-silent gasp— )
Are you disappointed?
( lighthearted enough to be taken as gentle teasing, teeth revealing just a moment to a smile once more before she's biting to same lips, hips giving a subtle write upward against his wrist. )
no subject
He exposes her shoulder and looks up, grins at Isabelle through the haze of arousal clouding his vision. ]
Not complaining at all. [ He puts his lips to her shoulder, his hand moving down to her thigh, lifting her leg to fit around his hip, changing the angle of his fingers inside her just so. He circles his thumb over her clit, moving his fingers deep and slow. He kisses his way along the curve of her shoulder, tasting skin, and travels up to her ear, nose against the shell of it. ]
What will it take to make you completely lose it, Isabelle? Tell me what I should do.
no subject
it's instinctive, then, once he's ducked in to the line of her shoulder, for hues to close and crown of black to tip backward against the pillow, craning if only to give him proper room to map out such a tender canvas of flesh, some of the most sensitive dips and inches of her left exposed by a draped dress. fingers in his hair relieve their clutch, smoothing nails along his scalp til she's at his nape, kneading there in gratitude from his mouth's affections.
another flutter of a gasp, brows pinching together just as a petite mew punctures the brief space between them. ) Just don't- ( a sharp breath, head fallen to the side for temples and cheeks to brush as he murmurs against her ear. ) Don't stop, Baby. Faster. ( last word barely holds a tone, toes curled against the sheets and shoulder blades pinched together, cradling him in against the crook of her neck. )
Please.
no subject
At the same time, he follows her command, his tongue tracing the rune on her neck as he quickens the rhythm of his fingers, just before he adds a third. There are a few things Baby is extremely certain of; one is that he is one of the best drivers around, and another is that he has a pianist's fingers, long and lean, and he's learned how to use them to his advantage - with pianos, but also with instruments a million times more delicate and incredible, like Isabelle. ]
no subject
she's never been shy about her need, but it's the first time he's witnessing it that makes her the littlest bit bashful— the way fingers flex back into his hair, equal efforts to both tug him back and desperately keep him in place, familiar tendrils of heat beginning to swirl within her abdomen, tightening further every time fingertips prod to that favored spot of hers.
and once he's found it, there's a hearty moan to let him know, his name hidden in it's end as a trembled pant, trying for what she can to keep hips from rutting up against him, seeking out more. ) Carajo, just like that. Just-- ( own lips stumble across his ear, breaths dwindling further off track, crescent of her nails biting at his side, having snuck up beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin. )
no subject
If he was someone else, he'd probably tear off her dress, but he is who he is; still more willing to watch her come apart under his hands than anything else, willing to ignore his renewed erection as he fucks her with his fingers, pressing himself close to feel her, more than to watch her. This way, this close, he can hear her better, the breathy gasps and soft moans. This close, he can feel her better, the contractions of muscles and clenching around him. This close, he can touch her better, the angle of his wrist perfect, her skin close enough to taste.
This close, she's perfect. ]
no subject
the last thing she wants is for him to stop.
it's the consistency, that unrelenting tease of lengthy digits inside of her that sends her barreling closer to release, slightest sheen of sweat glimmering beneath her collars, attempting to find some sort of means to warn him of how rapidly he's tugging her under, how that crest begins to build, and build further, yet. she needs it— how long has it been? shes too dizzied to recall, clutched helplessly to him. if nails given the subtlest puncture to his skin, she's unaware, soft whimpers intermixing with her breaths. )
Baby, I'm gonna cum- ( syllables broken, a plea she doesn't properly know how to voice. )
no subject
Her words, broken up and interspersed with moans, just make Baby keep going with more determination than ever, absolutely dead set on getting her there without delay. He speeds up some more, her sweat mingling with his when he presses his forehead to her temple. ]
C'mon, gorgeous, I've got you.
[ His words are mere murmurs against her ear, as he slams his fingers into her, following the rise of her hips without missing a beat, his heart beating hard in his throat. ]
no subject
there's fingers tangled in his hair, maintaining a fervent fistful of the strands within her grasp as the other does nothing but cling to his frame, noises diminishing to a higher, sweeter octave of whimpers, unintelligible sounds all she can manage. and then all at once it escalates a little too quickly, a little too far, and a gasp is all that's managed before it hits.
isabelle nearly cries for him the moment that first wave wrings through her, a tone so naturally velvet and composed utterly wrecked by the deafening fire licking through each of her limbs, shooting up her spine and zinging to fingertips. it's all she can do to keep hold of him, all that seems to keep her together while she breaks, bronzed frame beneath him writhing, digits tugging and purchasing, tongue useless other than to thank him in form of shaky moans. )
no subject
He keeps his fingers inside her as she pants and moans and writhes, keeping her cradled in his embrace, his thumb releasing the pressure off of her clit in increments as he drops kiss after kiss along the curve of her neck, never able to get enough. ]
Oh, wow.
[ There's no mockery in his tone, just pure awe. He pulls back just enough to look at her face, fingers pushing some stray strands of jet black hair off of her face, amazed by how they stick with sweat in places. The look in his eyes is I ust thoroughly, impossibly taken. ]
Are you okay?
no subject
all she can offer is a lazied smile, relinquishing that unforgiving grip to his hair in favor of touch falling to the nape of his neck,
miniature circles being drawn there with her fingertips. a low, sated hum comes from the bed of her throat, attempting to find an even tone. )
Am I okay? ( mostly rhetorical, grin nearly giddy as it blossoms wider about her mouth, and given now she has some bit of mind to focus on something other than vehemently clutching onto him, she's slowly raveling that shirt of his up along the span of his back, gentle indication that she'd like it gone. hues give a suggestive glance down between them, where the heat of his cock, rigid once more, rests against her thigh. )
Are you? ( maybe it's taunting, despite how her voice still rings with awe, tipping her head just enough to ghost their lips together. )
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He still can't quite believe what just happened - what he just did - but when he brings his fingers up towards his mouth, licking them clean while looking straight at Isabelle, her taste is an assault on his senses that he can't, nor would he want to, deny. The way he licks his fingers is a little lewd, but he doesn't stop until they're clean, and then he leans back down, hands supporting his weight on either side of her head. ]
I'm fine, [ he says, and he means it. He could let his erection die down and not feel dissatisfied. Not right now. ] I can't believe this... you... Fuck. You're driving me crazy.
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that soft, quiet tremor to her exhale isn't only because of the orgasm he'd so determinately given to her, but the way her mouth dries to the sight of him stripping off that shirt, his lean frame giving way to creamy flesh beneath, kissed with scars just as her own. she's about to draw her touch towards them, assure him he needn't keep them covered, not from her, but then he's making a show of pink tongue curling around his fingers, her all over them, and god if she hadn't been doomed before.
she can't take her eyes away from it, unable to hide how spellbound she is by the action, just as so when he's hovering above her again, now given the opportunity to score each of her palms down along his chest, branching out to each side once she nears his midsection. ) You have me.
( words transcend far more than in the physical sense, but they can tackle that later, reaching back to release the clasp of her dress above undone zipper, pressing the material down from her shoulders, revealing the stark black lace of her bra as it's managed further out of the way, eyes with his all the while. she's driving him crazy? well, that calls for one response: ) Show me, Baby.
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His eyes travel down to her chest, her bra, which seems to barely be able to hold her breasts; he wants to see them spilling out, into his hands, touch her with his fingers and his tongue even more than he already has. She is breathtaking when dressed, and just worldbreaking half-naked.
But then she says, show me, and his breath catches in his throat. He swallows hard, finding his words slowly. ]
Do you - want to? I have condoms, I just - I wouldn't assume.
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a slow nod, wishing she could quiet all of those flaring doubts within his thoughts, searching betwixt his hues before she's cradling the side of his jaw, using it's edge to gingerly bring him closer for a delicate, lingering kiss. petals part one by one, naturally, tasting a hint of herself on his lips. )
I want you. ( admission finds itself on a whisper, and the confession is far from dirtied, wavering instead with ardency, an appetitive passion she doesn't quite know what to do with. )
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He pushes himself off again, leaving her sprawled out on his bed as he stands by it, finally pushing both his pants and boxers off and leaving them in a messy pile on the floor, finding himself naked in front of her, for the very first time, and hopefully not the last. He goes to his nightstand to grab a condom, and then joins Isabelle back on the bed, fingers curling in her dress and pulling it off, gently, fingers caressing her thighs as he does. ]
Jesus Christ. [ He can't help the words falling from his lips as she's left in front of him in her lingerie, making his stomach twist with want again, his cock giving a hearthy lurch as he looks at her. ]
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it isn't the first time she's been exposed to another, not in the least, but with the way baby looks at her... the way those praise-heavy words fall from his tongue again like he can't find anything else to possibly give her, it may as well be; causes a vibrant flush to kiss her cheeks, a restlessness evident in the way she finds it difficult to stay still beneath him.
the smile she offers is faint, tender-hearted and dare he achieve it, even shy— and she's swallowing, licking her lips, and one by one she's raising to each of her elbows, causing their noses to just nearly brush as she reaches back with a single hand, easily releasing the clasp that keeps plentiful breasts in place. )
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He doesn't hesitate when he leans down, pressing his face between her breasts, hands reaching up to press them closer to his cheeks, looking about to motorboat her. He doesn't - he just stays here for a moment, breathing in the smell of her skin, before he starts kissing, turning his head and finally starting to move, until he's captured a nipple between his lips, tongue flicking against it. When he pulls away, with an obscene, wet sound, he looks up at Isabelle, as he moves himself closer, his cock sliding in the bend of her hipbone. ]
Could I make you come again?
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a breathy moan left to hum between bitten-together lips as the warmth of his mouth closes around the bud, appreciative card of nails through his hair, attuned to every single sound— senses still teeming from how lusciously he'd not so long ago pulled her through release.
there's a snicker, but it isn't mocking, nor any sort of chide as much as it is amazement that he holds so much concern for her approval, her voiced permission. it's something to be respected, of course, though she can't imagine there would be many answers in the negative to such a request. twin palm finds itself around his lower back, tugging as to bring him closer, and if it weren't indication enough-- )
Hermoso. ( a means to take his attention, for him to truly listen to her, swiping thumb beneath the full bed of his lower lip. ) Something tells me you won't have any problems doing so.
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[ And with that, he surges up for an even more intense kiss, licks at her lips, requesting entrance as he rolls his hips into hers, hand closing around the condom again. There's a part of him that wants to apologize for how eager he is, how unable he is to take his time when he is way too worked up, when he wants her so bad he is shaking with it. ]
I want you so much.
[ He whispers against her lips, fingers fumbling at the condom, but getting it open, and, as carefully as he can, rolls it over his cock, blowing out a breath as he looks down at what he's doing for a moment, looking between her breasts; an incredible view. ]
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the anticipation enflames her, breaths scattered and gaze following his own, watching as he rolls that condom onto place, a quite note of appraisal at his size hidden within a hitched inhale. the moment he's aligned himself she's tucking his sights back upward to his, two digits placed beneath his chin, noses and lips aligned and just barely grazing. she wants to watch him when he fills her, wants to lay witness to every little twitch of pleasure that takes him over.
a faint mew, brows subtly furrowing. ) I'm yours, Baby.
( and he can take that as he will. )
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Izzy - oh.
[ He swallows hard, his voice sounding wrecked, and he gives a tiny roll of his hips, his hands fitting around hers, holding her against him, like he's worried she's going to move away. He's already sweating again, and he clenches his jaw as he starts moving, sliding out of Isabelle almost all the way before moving back back in, hard and deep. ]
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G-od, cari. ( she's thankful for the clutch of steady hands to her hips, for something to keep a body that begs to write still to better feel every bit of vigor he fucks her with, and the withdraw is made all the sweeter by the way he punctuates that second thrust, dark hues rolling heavenward, nails leaving lithe, red swells along the plane of his back as they graze downward.
she's hungry for it, needs him, every ounce of energy renewed in full by how incredible it is, how full she feels. ) Yes.
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He's talking now, or maybe he's singing, he's not entirely sure, humming nonsensical words and melodies, expressing out loud he music she's writing in his head, a symphony building the two of them, music of skin moving against skin, moans and groans and Spanish and English and the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life, against him, under him, all over him, under his skin.
She feels so good, so incredibly tight and hot and he wants to never not be inside her. It's almost too much, and he moves his hands again, up along her sides, hands squeezing at her curves, wanting to memorize every inch of her, wanting to map her out in his mind, wanting to find out every single way he can make her moan. ]
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wants him to witness exactly what he's doing to her.
single hand falls to the sheets beside her head where she finds clasp of soft cotton, tugging it toward her. it's all garnering for her attention: the quiet smacks of skin on skin every time his hips meld flush with hers once more, how their breaths trip in time with the rhythm, moans and whimpers left only to stutter to gasps. his name intermixes within, tilting head in order to drag brims across the rim of his ear. )
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