pain_train | SANCTUM INBOX

He shoots her a little smile and starts working her pants off. Once they've been drawn off both of her legs he spreads her knees apart and kneels between them. He knows she's sensitive and he knows he can get her off pretty easily, so he starts out taking his time, stimulating her with light flicks of his tongue.

She has to bite her lip, a lot, and the amount of squirming she can really do is limited by what's going to pinch at her back. What escapes her a small, needy little noises as she buries her hands in North's hair and holds on.

Moving her right leg is surprisingly painful in this position, but her left is okay, and she's able to hook it around him, brushing her foot over his back.

She swallows down a moan and can't help but breathlessly laugh, fingers flexing in his hair. "You tell me to be quiet and then you--ah! oh god--do this. Oh fuck, yes, yes there--you are such--ah!--an asshole!"

Edited (swyyyyyype whyyyyyyy) 2014-12-23 18:44 (UTC)

He can't help but chuckle a bit, and he hums as he draws his tongue slowly over the spot she'd specified again. With all the pain she's been going through and all the difficulties her injury has caused he wants nothing more than to make her feel good and give her a pleasant release, and he can be selfish and desire something for himself later.

He's doing a good job of it, and having a sense of humor about things only makes it better, more relaxing to go with the amazing things he's doing with his tongue. She can't help but arch her back a little (that doesn't feel too bad) try to pull him in harder against her, like the poor guy doesn't need to breathe or something.

He's not a man to be rushed. She both loves it and wants to shake him by the hair as he slowly winds her up until her muscles are trembling and she's panting out breathy little whimpers that aren't coherent enough to be words.

The tighter she grasps at him the more firmly he brushes his tongue against her clit and presses it into her. He always finds giving oral sex exciting, and it's even more fulfilling with the way she reacts.

Wrath had the presence of mind to let go of his hair with her left hand so she can bite the fleshy part of her palm as she comes hard. It mostly muffles the sound she can't quite manage to swallow, the audible sign off her vision temporarily whiting out with sensation.

Nerves buzzing pleasantly, she relaxes down on the bed. She loosens her fingers in North's hair, idly petting his curls with faintly trembling fingers.

He grabs the tail of his shirt to wipe his face on and then crouches over her again, nosing in at her neck. Being only in his boxers means his erection is readily available for her to take hold of if she wishes. "Mm," he murmurs, dragging his lips along her jaw.

Wrath breathes out a little sigh, tilting her head for him. "Your mouth," she murmurs. "I love your mouth too. My god..." Eyes half shut in satisfied contentment, she slowly slides her leg against his. She keeps one hand loosely stroking his hair while the other wanders his chest and stomach with light caresses until she reaches reaches his hips. She smooths her hand over his cock, making a contented sound at the hot, hard length of it.

"Oh good," she murmurs. "That wasn't just part of the dream." My god, she thought with fuzzy amusement, how the hell does he conceal that thing when not in use? And that thought makes her giggle cheerfully as she slides her hand into his boxers to find skin, to wrap her fingers around the length and stroke. "Lieutenant North, I believe the Uniform Code expressly forbids the removal of heavy artillery from base without a signed order from your CO. I'll need to see your papers now, please." She squeezes lightly.

Edited 2014-12-24 00:26 (UTC)

He laughs. "I don't let just anyone inspect this equipment," he says. He nips lightly at her jaw. "Actually, you seem to be the only one qualified." He grins and tips his hips into her hand. "Seems like it's inspection time right now."

Wrath grins, finally letting go of his hair so she can cup his cheek and direct his mouth to hers. "I'm on the job."

She moves her hand down his length, for all the world like she's feeling out every bit of skin, tracing the subtle lines of veins. Lightly teasing her fingers over the contours of the head. She resumes stroking slowly, giving him a mock serious look. "Manual inspection checks off with flying colors. I'll need to see it in action though."

At which point she can't keep a straight expression any more, buries her face in his shoulder, and snickers. It feels so good to relax and laugh. To have fun. Hopefully he agrees; she knows a lot of people don't share her sense of humor.

It's clear he does; he laughs with her, then gently pushes her arm back so he can work his boxers off. "Your back is still okay, right?" he asks as he completes that action, settling back between her legs.

She tilts her head so she can watch, idly trailing her fingers over her stomach since he's taken himself out of reach. Sitting up is unfortunately not a thing that's going to happen right now, a shame since that might be fun. Maybe some other time when she's less fucked up. She does rub her foot lightly against his leg, just so she's got that good point of active contact with him.

"Green," she says, smiling crookedly. Well, she'd better be honest. "Just go easy on me, okay?" They'll make it work, she has faith in that.

"I will," he promises, trailing his hands down her sides before lowering himself to line up with her. "We'll take it slow." He's more in the mood for something sweet than something rough anyway. He strokes at her until he's sure she's slick and warm and ready before pressing the head of his cock into her. A pleased hum passes his lips and he lowers his face to kiss her lips as he continues to press in.

Wrath feels like her nerves are just humming by the time he's done plying her with his hands. She loves his hands; she's said that, hasn't she? She's rocking a against his fingers just a little already, and then his cock--fuck, she remembers this, the dreams really were true to life.

She cups North's face in her hands, stroking his cheeks with her fingers as she breathes a little moan into his mouth. Relax, relax, relax, she lets her eyes drift half closed as she focuses on his lips, on that amazing closeness of being filled. "You feel so good, Andrew," she murmurs.

It's like a bolt going down his spine, the way she says his name, and he lets out a rough exhale and slides in a little further. Preparing his partner is always a slow process—press in and draw back, little by little, opening them up. He brings one hand to play with her ear and kisses a line down her cheek. "You're returning the favor, believe me," he says. Now is the time to begin to thrust, in slow, deep passes, and he braces himself on the bed, keeping his lips on her mouth and face.

She makes a needy sound against his lips, going tight around him for a moment before the relaxes again. Wrath slowly hooks her left leg around his. One hand stays on his face, fingers tenderly stroking, while her right hand begins to wander more, caressing lines down his neck in a slow counterpoint.

Wrath rolls her hips as much as she can to receive him, breathing out muted little pleas as she feels him , so present. It's different, so quiet and slow, another facet of togetherness that she hadn't really imagined before. She whispers his name in his ear, kisses his temple, and melts into him a little bit more with each thrust.

All the feedback he's getting back from her are expressions of pleasure and appreciation and that makes him a feel bold enough to move a little faster, press in a little harder. He tries to keep his movements smooth, though, determined not to be as rough as he would be had she not been injured. His breathing picks up, and he can't help but grunt a little in response when she whispers his name. He doesn't remember having his name spoken during sex affect him the way it does when she calls his name. If it weren't for the need to hold back he might groan out loud.

"Yes," she whispers in his ear, curling her leg around his, hitching her hips slight. She gasps, going tight around, her hand gripping his arm for a moment to just hold on. "Yes, right there, Andrew. Right there..." She can tell that he likes hearing his name, though she's trying not to overuse it.

She runs her hand down over his chest, rolling her thumb over his nipple as she pulls back her head enough to rest their foreheads together. She wants to see his eyes, the focused look in them, and feel his breath against her lips, weaving them more tightly together.

He can't help it, oh he can't help it, he quickens again, snapping into her harder and meeting her gaze, though their faces are so close together it causes her eyes to merge in his vision. He wants this to be like this but he doesn't want to hurt her, doesn't want to cause her discomfort. At the first sign she can't handle the pace he's set he'll stop and reset things.

A little harder is good at first, but the pressure on the curve of her back is too much, enough to make it twinge warningly. Maybe she could just push through it, but she knows North wouldn't want her to. So she takes an unsteady breath, hand coming up to stroke his hair. "Shh," she murmurs. "Shh. Slower, baby. A little slower."

She focuses everything on him, her gaze fixed on his. It would be easy, to hate herself in this moment, hate her injury, but she doesn't want to. She desperately wants this to just be about them, about being together and loving each other and for it to be all right.

He slows down by half, the expression in his eyes becoming concerned, and he moves a hand to touch her lips with his fingertips. Apologies aren't necessary, he knows they're not, but the fact is that he knew if he kept going like that he'd push too hard. He just breathes instead, just in and out, in and out, then kisses her.

She kisses him like an apology and reassurance and encouragement rolled together, stroking his cheek with her hand. She curls her leg a little harder around him and gasps at that little shift in angle, lips curving. And then tilts her head for another kiss, eyes half shut as she simply focuses on being tight for him, rocking into each thrust. She can't give him fast or hard, but she can offer him that.

He keeps his lips to hers, drinking in the taste of her and the sensation of their mouths melding, his tongue brushing against hers, heightening his desire as his cock slides within her. The slowdown doesn't ruin things, just mutes the arc of building sensation a bit, but he eventually builds it up again, and his movements become more erratic as it comes to a crest, causing him to spill into her as he breaks the kiss to let out a long rough exhale.

It feels different, in a good way, to be focused like this on someone else. She'd always had more of a race to the finish attitude; one night relationships aren't a great way to learn someone else, and when both people are just taking what they can get it can be a lot of fun, but it's not together. Not like this. She feels the little changes and shifts in him and treasures those as experiences to be learned from and revisited later. He made her feel very, very good earlier; she just wants to do the same for him at the very least, and that idea warms her.

It still feels good, in its own way, when he comes. Satisfying. She likes the way he moves inside her. And she watches his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands, and he's so fucking beautiful it kind of hurts.

It's a wonder, that he's her with her. That they're here together. Wrath strokes his cheeks with her thumbs, completely at a loss for words, her heart so full she can barely breathe.

"I love how you are with me," he mutters, feathering kisses over her eyelids. It's inevitable now, he thinks. The time's coming, sooner rather than later, when he'll just tell her he loves her rather than what he loves about her. He tries not to think too hard about it, because he never would have expected himself to get into something that developed this quickly, but after the way she was treated by the clone of his sister he knows he would never stand for her to experience difficulty or pain that he could prevent. And if that isn't love, he doesn't know what is.

He lets himself catch his breath, breathing in one last deep sigh, before smoothing a hand over her forehead. "Are you satisfied, or you want more?"

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Day 166 | Evening | Action

Day 166 | Evening | Action

Day 166 | Evening | Action

Day 166 | Evening | Action

Day 166 | Evening | Action

Day 166 | Evening | Action

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