[ Well, why would he ever go easy on her? It's not like she ever does it to him, always needling and pushing - well-meaning, of course, but still. She tests him plenty, so it's only fair that he does the same to her, pushes her limits and sees how close he can get her to breaking. Besides, with how she moans, with how wet she is beneath him, can she really argue that she isn't loving it?
Not that he has much self control left himself. She clings to him so tightly, every perfect inch of her body wrapped around him and gripping close. The heat of her mouth, the noises that she lets out, the drag of her sweat-slick skin against his chest and his hips, and the urgent wetness between her legs. He can hear it, feel it, every thrust inside of her audible with how he churns her up inside, and that's without including the deliberate smack of his skin against hers, his body pressed tight and his cock buried as deep as he can go inside of her. It's all soo good, keeps his head spinning a little, the adrenaline surging through his body like only the best fight can manage. He's addicted to her like he's addicted to the blade, and he knows it.
And then she comes underneath him, and any restraint slips away. He's made his point, seized his little victory in sending her shuddering into bliss, and he rams into her two, three more urgent times before he comes hard himself, his forehead pressing against her shoulder and a sharp, harsh bark of pleasure escaping his lips. He cuts loose, flooding inside of her, his muscles seizing and trembling in his thighs, and for a moment the entire world goes white. She's the only thing in it. Her breathing, her scent, the warmth of her body.
He can never tell her that, of course, but he can't deny how satisfying a moment it is. Relaxing. Perfect. ]
shhhh it's fine, you are a welcome gem to my inbox
Not that he has much self control left himself. She clings to him so tightly, every perfect inch of her body wrapped around him and gripping close. The heat of her mouth, the noises that she lets out, the drag of her sweat-slick skin against his chest and his hips, and the urgent wetness between her legs. He can hear it, feel it, every thrust inside of her audible with how he churns her up inside, and that's without including the deliberate smack of his skin against hers, his body pressed tight and his cock buried as deep as he can go inside of her. It's all soo good, keeps his head spinning a little, the adrenaline surging through his body like only the best fight can manage. He's addicted to her like he's addicted to the blade, and he knows it.
And then she comes underneath him, and any restraint slips away. He's made his point, seized his little victory in sending her shuddering into bliss, and he rams into her two, three more urgent times before he comes hard himself, his forehead pressing against her shoulder and a sharp, harsh bark of pleasure escaping his lips. He cuts loose, flooding inside of her, his muscles seizing and trembling in his thighs, and for a moment the entire world goes white. She's the only thing in it. Her breathing, her scent, the warmth of her body.
He can never tell her that, of course, but he can't deny how satisfying a moment it is. Relaxing. Perfect. ]