rosarianoath

[She’s not moving an inch, and Clive gives his own low chuckle as he bends to kiss her forehead.]

Good show.

[Here’s a bigger one: his hard cock rubbing a stripe between her ass cheeks before he presses the head to her entrance.]

[The anticipation makes her shiver.]

Really, all you need do is put your weight on me. I'd be at your mercy.

[He waits exactly where he is, barely increasing the pressure.]

All of it?

You nearly did it, before. I was under you, unable to move... not that I wished to.

[What's even the point of a massive man if not to pancake you into the mattress? Her patience is perhaps a little thin, hips trying to lean back towards him.]

I can't escape you, regardless.

I remember.

[Seldom has he ever taken control the way he had that night, and that feels like a far cry from this. He rewards her impatience with the slightest bit of friction, the fat head of his cock pushing in, achingly slow.]

This time, I don’t let you up until you’re completely spent.

Do you think you can last that long?

[She glances at him, a rare smirk on her lips.]

[He doesn’t press forward. Instead, he pulls her back on him, a slow drag deeper and deeper.]

You know how much I like a challenge.

[It's somewhere between a moan and a sigh of relief that escapes her. He's in his right place once more.]

We've never [made love? She has no idea what to call this now] gone all night, before.

[He drags her all the way back, and bottomed out, he groans. She’s hot and wet and tight, and he makes sure he drags against her walls as he pulls back out.]

I’m prepared.

[So is Ifrit.]

Good. I never want you to stop.

[She's missed him desperately. If this is all they can handle, then she'll take it. It's better than the tension that's lived in this house with them.]

[Clive picks up the pace, dragging in and out at a steady rhythm, and as he does, he slowly sinks his weight on her as he bends over her back. The angle isn’t quite as deep, but the whole of her is pinned.]

[And she loves it. She can feel every curve of muscle against her body. It feels--safe. If Jill knew about weighted blankets, she would understand entirely.

She presses her face into the plush blankets beneath them and moans Clive's name. It feels like a release, being able to desire him openly. For months, she's been keeping that part of herself locked away so tightly that she doesn't think there's a way to bottle her back up.]

[How many times can he say he’s fucked her in the time they slept together? Certainly rarely. The deep thrusts now press her up the bed with every hard, bruising drive forward, and it feels like every night they’ve missed together pent up at once. His one-handed grip on her ass leaves deep indents, the other arm laid across the back of her shoulders, pinning her down. His abs burn but he’ll do this all night. He rasps:]

I missed this. I needed this.

I've needed you.

[It's no terrible admission. They've needed one another: it's why they live in this same house. Perhaps they would have come to the conclusion slower without Torgal here, but end up in the same place all the same.

Still, in the months absent from one another's bed, it's been difficult. Every celebration seems to be one of love and intimacy and she is unable to stop thinking of him even if she tries.

With the way she's being fucked right now, he'll be on her mind for every minute of every day until her body recovers. Good.]

[He buries his face once more in the crook of her neck, moving the hand on her hip to snake under her, where he gets two fingers between her lips and hard against her clit.]

I’m here, Jill.

[She's missed everything about him. His voice, and how it sounds when he speaks to her when they're in bed together. His broad hands on her bare skin. His breath, hot against her neck. All of him, even if he's been within reach for months.

Jill loses track of the time. All that really matters is that it remains dark outside the window. When she comes, it does sound pained for a moment, chest struggling to heave in some air and body tender from earlier. There's even an ache in her fingers from gripping the blankets.

But she wanted this, exactly.]

[The chest-thumping, possessive surge of pride in his chest when she comes hits different after months of quietly jerking off in the basement. Feeling her shake under him, feeling her clench and work him from the inside, feeling her shudder — it’s all viciously delicious.

He eases off of her, but just barely. His dick is still hard, and he pulls out and rubs it between her ass cheeks while she shudders, his fingers just barely off her clit. He pants by her ear, coaxing.]

That’s my girl… so nice, Jill…

[They're not done. She just needs to catch her breath.]

Do you... remember that bookstore?

[They had visited a few together while living in the apartment, but surely he knows she means the time they fucked in one.]

[He nods against the back of her neck, reaching down to palm her ass.]

I do.

I'm ashamed of how often I revisit the memory.

[It's her Roman Empire.]

[He pauses the slow rock of his hips against her ass.]

Why ashamed?

I overlooked your pain. That was one of the last good times we had together, but... it feels wrong to remember how much I enjoyed it.

[Really, it wasn't all that long after he said he couldn't be with her.

It was still hot, though.]

[He’s sure she can feel his sigh through her back, but it’s not an unhappy one. He just resumes rubbing against her, eyes closed.]

It was meant to be enjoyed.

This might become a better memory.

[At least now, there's no surprises. She's very aware of where they stand.]

Good. I want that for you.

[He kisses the back of her neck.]

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