[ Her hand gets shoved away, and for a split second, her anger boils up to overflowing. Hurting him more flashes through her head, her eyes darting to the fallen shard, because why stop her? Why deny her? There was only her, her needs, her desires, and he should pay for interrupting.
Another split second later, she's staring up at him in a shock, forgetting that flare-up had ever happened. Those few extra seconds he gives her allows only enough time to gasp in half a breath before he's utterly destroying her, making her hands clench into shaking fists. Her head tilts back, her inhale caught somewhere between being stuck and trying to escape as a loud cry.
More seconds. More pleasure. Then she feels it, what she craved the most, flooding her and filling her even more than she already was. Her ankles press around his neck, legs shaking as hard as her arms. She's getting everything she wants, needs, desires.
And more.
The cry finally pushes its way out when he gifts her with more of his mouth. She begins to murmur "harder" over and over, but she doesn't know what she's encouraging more of. He's already rocking her entire body with his thrusts, his teeth hurt so good, and she's such a good girl. What more could she possibly get?
With one last sniff of all the blood and sex in the air, she remembers. A few more seconds, and she comes.
Her eyes roll back, and her knees fight to come together at the intensity of it as it melds with the intensity of her pain. The noises she makes would embarrass her if she had her right mind about her, but currently, she doesn't give a damn. This is everything. The beauty of greed. The beauty of depravity. The beauty of being bad.
One bloody hand comes up to stroke his hair as she whimpers through the last few pulses, an affectionate, soft gesture that contrasts with all the mess they'd just created. Then she laughs, low and satisfied, because there's nothing good about her right now, especially as a teasing taunt comes to her. ]
no subject
Another split second later, she's staring up at him in a shock, forgetting that flare-up had ever happened. Those few extra seconds he gives her allows only enough time to gasp in half a breath before he's utterly destroying her, making her hands clench into shaking fists. Her head tilts back, her inhale caught somewhere between being stuck and trying to escape as a loud cry.
More seconds. More pleasure. Then she feels it, what she craved the most, flooding her and filling her even more than she already was. Her ankles press around his neck, legs shaking as hard as her arms. She's getting everything she wants, needs, desires.
And more.
The cry finally pushes its way out when he gifts her with more of his mouth. She begins to murmur "harder" over and over, but she doesn't know what she's encouraging more of. He's already rocking her entire body with his thrusts, his teeth hurt so good, and she's such a good girl. What more could she possibly get?
With one last sniff of all the blood and sex in the air, she remembers. A few more seconds, and she comes.
Her eyes roll back, and her knees fight to come together at the intensity of it as it melds with the intensity of her pain. The noises she makes would embarrass her if she had her right mind about her, but currently, she doesn't give a damn. This is everything. The beauty of greed. The beauty of depravity. The beauty of being bad.
One bloody hand comes up to stroke his hair as she whimpers through the last few pulses, an affectionate, soft gesture that contrasts with all the mess they'd just created. Then she laughs, low and satisfied, because there's nothing good about her right now, especially as a teasing taunt comes to her. ]
Anything for you, boss.