One of the things that Dean likes about Natasha is the fact that she's always quick to throw his teasing right back at him, obviously getting just as much pleasure from riling him up as he does from working her into a hot mess, and this particular position is that much more arousing because he has fucked her. He's as much to blame for that slick mess as she is, and while he feels quite a bit of satisfaction over that, somehow it makes him even more eager to take her again, stoking a heat within him that burns just as hot as it did the moment he met her at the door. She does this to him every time, because as good as he is at pushing her buttons, she seems to instinctively know how to hit all of his.
"I'm never going to get tired of hearing that."
Her eager insistence draws a growl out of him that's pure feral lust, one that's muffled momentarily by a kiss that he takes to just as hungrily. Occasionally he finds himself in a mood to draw the teasing out even more, if simply to hear what it does to her voice, but there's nothing quite like the sound of her just inhaling when he rolls his hips with one purpose in mind. It takes more skill to angle himself just right when she's so wet, but it's a challenge he's definitely up to, using both hands to pin her in place while the tip of his cock pushes up against her.
This time he does take it slower, giving himself time to feel her clenching around every inch of him as it sinks into her. One hand on her back slides upward along with that slow motion until his entire forearm is pinned across her back, fingers tangling into the soft, scarlet cascade of her hair, while his other hand remains on her hip, still gripping it tightly. He hardly needs anything else to keep her in place, not unless she bucks her hips into him, a movement that would only result in his grip tightening before he's even started to thrust.
His eyes flick briefly up to the mirror, just to be able to see her reaction even as he hears and feels it. It's far from the first time - and far from the last, he hopes - but it's the kind of moment that sticks very vividly in his mind, one that easily comes to him when he finds himself alone and in need of a release.
They could - and have, and often - spend hours teasing and tormenting each other until one or both of them were crazy with lust, burning with desire for each other. It wasn't at all uncommon for them to disappear into whatever hiding place they'd chosen, be it a motel room such as this one, and abandoned house somewhere in the woods, wherever, for as long as they could, days if possible, and indulge themselves in each other until necessity once again pulled them apart.
They knew each other so well, there wasn't any awkwardness or trepidation, just the slow burn of flesh to flesh, heart to heart, and an easy attraction that never seemed to diminish. Less so now, with Dean pushing her down on the counter and sliding thick and hard between her soaking thighs, making her bite at her lower lip with his tantalizing slowness, guaranteed to spiral her out of her mind with dizzying pleasure.
Natasha dropped her head and moaned, feeling him fill her again, her tight walls rippling down over his cock, pressing into her slow and deliberate, and her back arched invitingly as she rolled a tight nipple between her own fingers, tugging on the bud until the tiny pains mixed with the heavy pleasure settling deep in her loins. When he was fully seated inside her, she lifted her gaze to the mirror, green eyes already dark with lust, and met Dean's behind her, her lips parted and gently slack, tip of her tongue teasing the upper with obscene grace.
"...Dean..." she heard herself moan, flexing her thighs and squeezing him tight, aching for him to move, to thrust into her as hard and as deep as he desired.
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maskirovka) wrote2018-04-08 02:44 pm
no subject
"I'm never going to get tired of hearing that."
Her eager insistence draws a growl out of him that's pure feral lust, one that's muffled momentarily by a kiss that he takes to just as hungrily. Occasionally he finds himself in a mood to draw the teasing out even more, if simply to hear what it does to her voice, but there's nothing quite like the sound of her just inhaling when he rolls his hips with one purpose in mind. It takes more skill to angle himself just right when she's so wet, but it's a challenge he's definitely up to, using both hands to pin her in place while the tip of his cock pushes up against her.
This time he does take it slower, giving himself time to feel her clenching around every inch of him as it sinks into her. One hand on her back slides upward along with that slow motion until his entire forearm is pinned across her back, fingers tangling into the soft, scarlet cascade of her hair, while his other hand remains on her hip, still gripping it tightly. He hardly needs anything else to keep her in place, not unless she bucks her hips into him, a movement that would only result in his grip tightening before he's even started to thrust.
His eyes flick briefly up to the mirror, just to be able to see her reaction even as he hears and feels it. It's far from the first time - and far from the last, he hopes - but it's the kind of moment that sticks very vividly in his mind, one that easily comes to him when he finds himself alone and in need of a release.
no subject
They knew each other so well, there wasn't any awkwardness or trepidation, just the slow burn of flesh to flesh, heart to heart, and an easy attraction that never seemed to diminish. Less so now, with Dean pushing her down on the counter and sliding thick and hard between her soaking thighs, making her bite at her lower lip with his tantalizing slowness, guaranteed to spiral her out of her mind with dizzying pleasure.
Natasha dropped her head and moaned, feeling him fill her again, her tight walls rippling down over his cock, pressing into her slow and deliberate, and her back arched invitingly as she rolled a tight nipple between her own fingers, tugging on the bud until the tiny pains mixed with the heavy pleasure settling deep in her loins. When he was fully seated inside her, she lifted her gaze to the mirror, green eyes already dark with lust, and met Dean's behind her, her lips parted and gently slack, tip of her tongue teasing the upper with obscene grace.
"...Dean..." she heard herself moan, flexing her thighs and squeezing him tight, aching for him to move, to thrust into her as hard and as deep as he desired.