pain_train | SANCTUM INBOX

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?"

Wrath smiles, her thumbs still lightly caressing his cheeks as he kisses her. "Your face isn't really stupid," she murmurs. "You just make me feel stupid because I like you so much I can't think of anything else when you're around."

Tempting, to push it. She's never been one to say no to an orgasm, so it's very tempting. Wrath hesitates, then shakes her head. "I'm good. As long as you hold me now." Because it's been amazing, just feeling that close, and her stupid back not really getting in the way or making anyone feel bad. She'd rather keep this as close to perfect as it is than end on a sour note by going after something she doesn't really even need. She's satisfied, and warmed, and happy.

He smiles at her remark and closes his eyes for a moment. "It comes naturally," he teases gently, and gives her another quick kiss. Then he carefully rises, crawling away, and gets a washcloth out of the dresser to clean up with before lying back down beside her. "You feel like you can turn on your side?"

"I think so..." she reaches out to take hold of his arm, just for a little more support as she gets turned. Since there's a bit of talking they need to do, facing him seems to be a better idea, so she rolls toward him "Yeah, I think... this is okay." She lets go of his arm and rests her hand on his chest, stroking the skin lightly with her thumb.

He braces her with his hand at her waist as she does that, and once she's settled in he strokes her side. It kind of seems like a shame to start talking about the more unpleasant events of the day but that's really why they're here—it's really why he had needed the comfort of uniting with her in the first place. He drops his gaze for a moment, then leans in to kiss her. "So I met up with her," he says quietly.

She brushes her hand over his cheek when he kisses her, curls her leg over his. "Did it go okay?" she asks.

It's easy to sound neutral, even pleasant, just because he's already allayed a lot of the fears South put in her head. He's here with her, he was certainly interested in her, and he put up with her limitations without acting like it was a chore or like he was doing her a favor. In his arms, it's easy to believe that they're okay, better than okay, and everything that woman said to her had been complete bullshit.

And that means she can focus on North instead of just worrying about herself, and that's better.

"Not really, no." His hand smooths over her hip, down, back up, over her ribs. "She's not my sister, she's a copy that Bifrons made. A clone." He's not frowning, but he certainly does look subdued. "I'm not willing to talk to her about the things me and South need to work through, so she's upset with me. I don't blame her. Honestly I feel that saddling her with what happened wouldn't be fair to her, considering. But she doesn't understand. And I can't help that."

She moves slightly under his touch; it's a natural reaction when she likes his hands so much. But she keeps her gaze fixed on his face, listening, and strokes his cheek as he speaks.

Well, York had told her South was a clone, so she knew that now. She hadn't known it in time to tell North. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. For several things; for the stress on him, for her saying the dumb thing that kind of warned South about that. Does he know about that?

She shifts her hand down to rest on his chest again. "You're the one who's going to still be here. You have to protect yourself, when getting hurt wouldn't do anything."

Having her touch him like this is such a comfort. He keeps on rubbing her side. "That's the way I see it. I don't think that's keeping me from feeling a little guilty for the way I talked to her."

"Feelings don't like listening to logic." She falls silent for a moment, thinking, her thumb still moving over his skin. "I think I'd be worried about you if you didn't feel a little bad. Knowing that she's a clone with a limited lifespan doesn't change that she's still her in all the ways that matter to your heart."

Shit, the fact that she's a raging asshole that eventually thinks you're less important than a shiny new toy doesn't change the fact that you've known her all your life.

"It's a shitty fucking choice, and it's going to hurt no matter what. But I think you made the right decision." She kisses him lightly on the chin.

"I just need to remember it," he mutters. He sighs and scoots down a little so he can lean in and tuck his head in under her chin, resting his forehead against the hollow above her collarbone.

Wrath wraps her arm around his shoulders and rests her chin lightly against his hair. She strokes his shoulder slowly. "I'm sorry this happened," she murmurs. "But I'm glad you're taking care of yourself." And not letting her just manipulate you in to giving her what she wants, even if it tears you apart. She's starting to get the impression that kind of shit happened a lot. "And you're being as kind as you can be. I'm proud of you for that, too."

A hell of a lot kinder than Wrath could manage, that's for sure.

Edited (HTML WHY) 2014-12-27 00:41 (UTC)

He lets out a little hum and sighs again. That's all the more response he's going to give for now, snuggling up a bit closer and closing his eyes.

He doesn't have to keep talking if he doesn't want to. Wrath doesn't really have anything else to offer in the way of words, though, let alone words of wisdom. She's not that smart, and doesn't know what she could say to make him feel better. Hopefully this will help, though. She simply cuddles him a little bit closer, leg curling more against his, hand stroking his back, and nuzzles his hair.

This is how he can relax and he dozes a while before coming to again. "Mn," he mutters, then pulls back carefully. "I suppose we ought to track down some supper."

Day 166 | Evening | Action

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