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sparkindarknessAt last, they're talking again. Actually they're being quite vocal now. Hallelujah!
Ok, this is mainly sex, but it is sex with a point, not just a PWP. Honest. Continues from... uh... check the memories (which have been updated BTW, and now contain all my fic on this journal).
Brief caveat - it's not a major thing, but oxygen depirvation and near death aren't for everyone, if you think either is likely to make you sick on your keyboard, don't read (and don't sue).
I let him pull me closer to him. I still wasn’t scared of him, not even when I felt the unnatural strength in his arms. Scared for him, scared of my own thoughts and the fucking conclusion. Scared of what he’d do to any poor bastard he ran across, but never scared of him.
I kept my head turned from him, kept my face pressed to his hair, his body, his neck, licking, biting, nibbling, anything so that I could hide my face from his eyes. I didn't want him to see me cry. Not now. Fuck, this was messed up.
I heard a dull thunk as his knife falls from his hand and hits the mat. His hands close around my face, so softly but I can feel the strength there. I could feel the magic pulsing through his veins just beneath the surface, lending power to him, fucking daemonic power. I could feel it, feel the urge in him just to close his hands and see if he could crush my skull. My breath caught in my throat, he chuckled roughly, dark and rich as he held me there, seconds from death for an eternity, before he brought my mouth to his for a kiss; suddenly all my tears were gone. I didn’t have any fucking room for any other emotion, not fear, not grief, just fucking lust so strong it jumped over the line to need and headed for the horizon. Maybe it was a spell, some evil dark magic snuck through the stolen wards I was wearing, maybe it was just my own fucked up mind, maybe he was just that fucking hot. I didn’t know, didn’t care, but was going to take it!
My clothes were gone. Amazing how quickly that happened near Darren. Another spell, or just that a man in lust can perform miracles with buttons? Even if it is just tearing them away. His tongue burned in my mouth, exploring, probing, pushing as far and deep as it can. I shuffled awkwardly on the carpet, trying to push as hard against him as I could, feeling his skin almost burn next to mine. My mouth was working so hard against his that it almost hurt. I was holding him so hard, pulling him against me that normally I’d be leaving bruises all over him. Why didn’t I think that would happen this time? It was almost a shame. Fucked up, yeah, but hard truth. He dragged his mouth away from mine, I moved one hand up to the back of his head, trying to force him back. No chance.
“If you want bruises,” he whispered, his voice hissed over me, almost hurt... “you’re going to have to try harder than that.” Oh fuck. I lifted him into my lap, pulling him close again. He didn’t fight it at all. His mouth hit mine again, and that was certainly hard enough to bruise. Oh FUCK. He was pressed so tight against me that his cock was stabbing into my stomach - and that was nearly hard enough to bruise. Oh FUCK. My hands digging into him were certainly trying for those marks, grinding him into me until we were both whimpering through our tightly sealed mouths. Well, I was whimpering, he was doing this fucking growly thing which should be impossible for a human but was so damn sexy that I’m not going to complain. The heat just got hotter, the pressure just got harder, the need just got deeper and it all got a whole lot fucking heavier as we ground together, again and again, his cock ramming into my stomach, stabbing like a knife, as mine rubbed again and again against his buttocks as he rocked back and forth across my lap. It was intense. It was beyond intense. My hands curved to claws, raking down his back. I knew I’d drawn blood, I could feel it on my fingers, thick, almost scalding hot and sticky. He growled, nearly fucking roared against me, and just pressed harder, rocked faster. So fast I could hardly believe it. How can he move like that? Fuck that, I didn’t care, so long as he kept doing it.
His hands snake up from my back. However he keeps the motion going, it didn’t need hands, because he's grinding just as fast as ever - almost as fast as I was panting for breath as I tried to nearly press my face into his. Fuck, he tasted so incredible...
His hands danced up my back, so lightly compared to him ramming his cock along my stomach, his frenzied rubbing on my own cock that was almost hurting, but in a seriously good way, especially compared to my hands that were fucking slicing up his back. The reached my shoulders and smoothed round my neck. He began to move even fucking faster. Oh fuck, it was incredible, he had to be fucking hurting himself pushing himself against me so hard. It had to hurt! His gorgeous arse pushing over my cock was driving what was left of my thoughts completely out of me. I’d never felt this good, this hot, this so close to coming without something inserted in somewhere! The hands tightened around my throat.
He bit me, bit my lip hard as he poured into me. The pain flowed into the welling ecstasy perfectly. Magic? Lust? A good lay? I was so past caring. His hands tightened further, cutting off my air, even though I was absolutely gasping out moans as he rode me. I couldn’t breathe, and I didn't care about that either. Severely fucked up, but he felt so good, rubbing over and over. Fuck, this was incredible.
He tore his mouth from mine, laughing, or was it growling? Or roaring? Or screaming? Fuck, it was all of them, none of them. It was absolutely terrifying, utterly sexy, completely incredible and fucking amazing. He rode me down, holding me on the edge of orgasm, on that sweet shining line before you come but never pushing me off it as he forces himself over me so fast he’s nearly blurring. I can feel bruises coming to the surface on my stomach where his cock has rubbed so hard and hammered so fast across my skin. This razor’s edge was just too hot, I wanted to gasp for air, to scream and yell, but his hands closed ever tighter, crushing off any sound and squeezing out any air. I wheezed but couldn’t get a single fucking breath.
And he still rode me, still making that unholy sound, only managing to push even harder, driving me still closer to orgasm, oh fuck, could I even get any closer? Shit, it was too much, way too much. Uncle, stop the world, I wanted to get off. Really wanted to get off! But he just rode me harder, pushed our bodies even further. And I was fighting him, fighting to get away, fighting to breathe, fuck, fighting to pull him closer, fighting to make him go even faster, fighting to bring our mouths back together again. Shit I didn’t know what I wanted, but I wanted it so bad my mouth was opening and closing in silent screams and my whole body was fucking vibrating with it.
The world began to go patchy round the edges. I rode another edge now, again the edge between life and death, even closer than before, fuck, it was intense. My mind was spinning in ways I could never imagine, my body feeling things I didn’t even think were possible. I was dying, I was being tortured by an orgasm that would never come only hold me in it’s fucking fire and I was loving it. Oh fuck, yes!
Then it all collapsed. For a second I thought I’d died or passed out. For a second, I might have done. For a second, I wanted to! Then the orgasm rushed through in a way that took me even further, I screamed out silently for air and found the iron bars around my neck had been removed. I gasped, pulling in the sweet, beautiful air through a painful throat as the orgasm took me and shook me, bunt me up to the edges. Shit, I'd never felt anything like it without magical aid. I didn't even know if we’d had magical aid, and you know what? I still didn't give a fuck, because it was hot and dark and twisted but so incredibly good, so fucking fine that it went beyond words.
Darren rolled off me, lazily after his own orgasm that I must have missed while I went to the moon and back. He mumbled a quiet, contented sound, curving and rolling playfully on the mat, basking heavy lidded in the thick, warm sunlight. I tried to roll to my feet, a simple movement that took me minutes before I could even reach my knees. Maybe some down time wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe.
It took me a good quarter of an hour to get to my feet. Half an hour if you include being waylaid for a kiss and some sweet, gentle words from Darren. I needed that though. Not the kiss, or not just the kiss. Don’t get me wrong, a kiss is always welcome, but a gentle kiss, the gentle words. The love. No matter what else had happened, no matter what other dark evil little things were running through that head, he still loved me. I knew it, he still loved me.
Yeah, he may kill hundreds of people on a whim, but at least he loves me. Warped priorities? Fuck it, it’s love, logic can go sit that one out.
I staggered to the bathroom for a shower. Later a change of clothes, since I think Darren dissolved mine. Then I’m going out... maybe find someone who can do something with the knife I’m carrying. Preferably before Darren finds out I have it.
Ok, this is mainly sex, but it is sex with a point, not just a PWP. Honest. Continues from... uh... check the memories (which have been updated BTW, and now contain all my fic on this journal).
Brief caveat - it's not a major thing, but oxygen depirvation and near death aren't for everyone, if you think either is likely to make you sick on your keyboard, don't read (and don't sue).
I let him pull me closer to him. I still wasn’t scared of him, not even when I felt the unnatural strength in his arms. Scared for him, scared of my own thoughts and the fucking conclusion. Scared of what he’d do to any poor bastard he ran across, but never scared of him.
I kept my head turned from him, kept my face pressed to his hair, his body, his neck, licking, biting, nibbling, anything so that I could hide my face from his eyes. I didn't want him to see me cry. Not now. Fuck, this was messed up.
I heard a dull thunk as his knife falls from his hand and hits the mat. His hands close around my face, so softly but I can feel the strength there. I could feel the magic pulsing through his veins just beneath the surface, lending power to him, fucking daemonic power. I could feel it, feel the urge in him just to close his hands and see if he could crush my skull. My breath caught in my throat, he chuckled roughly, dark and rich as he held me there, seconds from death for an eternity, before he brought my mouth to his for a kiss; suddenly all my tears were gone. I didn’t have any fucking room for any other emotion, not fear, not grief, just fucking lust so strong it jumped over the line to need and headed for the horizon. Maybe it was a spell, some evil dark magic snuck through the stolen wards I was wearing, maybe it was just my own fucked up mind, maybe he was just that fucking hot. I didn’t know, didn’t care, but was going to take it!
My clothes were gone. Amazing how quickly that happened near Darren. Another spell, or just that a man in lust can perform miracles with buttons? Even if it is just tearing them away. His tongue burned in my mouth, exploring, probing, pushing as far and deep as it can. I shuffled awkwardly on the carpet, trying to push as hard against him as I could, feeling his skin almost burn next to mine. My mouth was working so hard against his that it almost hurt. I was holding him so hard, pulling him against me that normally I’d be leaving bruises all over him. Why didn’t I think that would happen this time? It was almost a shame. Fucked up, yeah, but hard truth. He dragged his mouth away from mine, I moved one hand up to the back of his head, trying to force him back. No chance.
“If you want bruises,” he whispered, his voice hissed over me, almost hurt... “you’re going to have to try harder than that.” Oh fuck. I lifted him into my lap, pulling him close again. He didn’t fight it at all. His mouth hit mine again, and that was certainly hard enough to bruise. Oh FUCK. He was pressed so tight against me that his cock was stabbing into my stomach - and that was nearly hard enough to bruise. Oh FUCK. My hands digging into him were certainly trying for those marks, grinding him into me until we were both whimpering through our tightly sealed mouths. Well, I was whimpering, he was doing this fucking growly thing which should be impossible for a human but was so damn sexy that I’m not going to complain. The heat just got hotter, the pressure just got harder, the need just got deeper and it all got a whole lot fucking heavier as we ground together, again and again, his cock ramming into my stomach, stabbing like a knife, as mine rubbed again and again against his buttocks as he rocked back and forth across my lap. It was intense. It was beyond intense. My hands curved to claws, raking down his back. I knew I’d drawn blood, I could feel it on my fingers, thick, almost scalding hot and sticky. He growled, nearly fucking roared against me, and just pressed harder, rocked faster. So fast I could hardly believe it. How can he move like that? Fuck that, I didn’t care, so long as he kept doing it.
His hands snake up from my back. However he keeps the motion going, it didn’t need hands, because he's grinding just as fast as ever - almost as fast as I was panting for breath as I tried to nearly press my face into his. Fuck, he tasted so incredible...
His hands danced up my back, so lightly compared to him ramming his cock along my stomach, his frenzied rubbing on my own cock that was almost hurting, but in a seriously good way, especially compared to my hands that were fucking slicing up his back. The reached my shoulders and smoothed round my neck. He began to move even fucking faster. Oh fuck, it was incredible, he had to be fucking hurting himself pushing himself against me so hard. It had to hurt! His gorgeous arse pushing over my cock was driving what was left of my thoughts completely out of me. I’d never felt this good, this hot, this so close to coming without something inserted in somewhere! The hands tightened around my throat.
He bit me, bit my lip hard as he poured into me. The pain flowed into the welling ecstasy perfectly. Magic? Lust? A good lay? I was so past caring. His hands tightened further, cutting off my air, even though I was absolutely gasping out moans as he rode me. I couldn’t breathe, and I didn't care about that either. Severely fucked up, but he felt so good, rubbing over and over. Fuck, this was incredible.
He tore his mouth from mine, laughing, or was it growling? Or roaring? Or screaming? Fuck, it was all of them, none of them. It was absolutely terrifying, utterly sexy, completely incredible and fucking amazing. He rode me down, holding me on the edge of orgasm, on that sweet shining line before you come but never pushing me off it as he forces himself over me so fast he’s nearly blurring. I can feel bruises coming to the surface on my stomach where his cock has rubbed so hard and hammered so fast across my skin. This razor’s edge was just too hot, I wanted to gasp for air, to scream and yell, but his hands closed ever tighter, crushing off any sound and squeezing out any air. I wheezed but couldn’t get a single fucking breath.
And he still rode me, still making that unholy sound, only managing to push even harder, driving me still closer to orgasm, oh fuck, could I even get any closer? Shit, it was too much, way too much. Uncle, stop the world, I wanted to get off. Really wanted to get off! But he just rode me harder, pushed our bodies even further. And I was fighting him, fighting to get away, fighting to breathe, fuck, fighting to pull him closer, fighting to make him go even faster, fighting to bring our mouths back together again. Shit I didn’t know what I wanted, but I wanted it so bad my mouth was opening and closing in silent screams and my whole body was fucking vibrating with it.
The world began to go patchy round the edges. I rode another edge now, again the edge between life and death, even closer than before, fuck, it was intense. My mind was spinning in ways I could never imagine, my body feeling things I didn’t even think were possible. I was dying, I was being tortured by an orgasm that would never come only hold me in it’s fucking fire and I was loving it. Oh fuck, yes!
Then it all collapsed. For a second I thought I’d died or passed out. For a second, I might have done. For a second, I wanted to! Then the orgasm rushed through in a way that took me even further, I screamed out silently for air and found the iron bars around my neck had been removed. I gasped, pulling in the sweet, beautiful air through a painful throat as the orgasm took me and shook me, bunt me up to the edges. Shit, I'd never felt anything like it without magical aid. I didn't even know if we’d had magical aid, and you know what? I still didn't give a fuck, because it was hot and dark and twisted but so incredibly good, so fucking fine that it went beyond words.
Darren rolled off me, lazily after his own orgasm that I must have missed while I went to the moon and back. He mumbled a quiet, contented sound, curving and rolling playfully on the mat, basking heavy lidded in the thick, warm sunlight. I tried to roll to my feet, a simple movement that took me minutes before I could even reach my knees. Maybe some down time wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe.
It took me a good quarter of an hour to get to my feet. Half an hour if you include being waylaid for a kiss and some sweet, gentle words from Darren. I needed that though. Not the kiss, or not just the kiss. Don’t get me wrong, a kiss is always welcome, but a gentle kiss, the gentle words. The love. No matter what else had happened, no matter what other dark evil little things were running through that head, he still loved me. I knew it, he still loved me.
Yeah, he may kill hundreds of people on a whim, but at least he loves me. Warped priorities? Fuck it, it’s love, logic can go sit that one out.
I staggered to the bathroom for a shower. Later a change of clothes, since I think Darren dissolved mine. Then I’m going out... maybe find someone who can do something with the knife I’m carrying. Preferably before Darren finds out I have it.