latino_menace | OOM: Out

She looks into his face, meeting that gaze, her hand brushing over his cheek. "Well, let's see what we can do about that, shall we?"

Her hips press against his hands as she arches her back, rising on her knees, making him look up at her.

'Mmm, why don't we?'

His eyes drink her in, running up and down that amazing body.

'You look magnificent. They suit you far better than Senora Peron.'

He's never rated her anyway. Fi though, he does rate.

"Sweet talker." But he can see the little smile his words bring, hovering at the corner of her mouth. She growls a little, weaving her fingers in his hair and drawing his mouth down to her breast.

"Let's write our own history for these jewels. Right here, right now."

He lets her pull him in slowly, anticipating already, envisioning what they look like as he carefully sucks that tit into his mouth, fastening around the sensitive nipple and pulling on it gently, a small moan of appreciation already in the back of his throat. His hands run smoothly, carefully, up and down her back; she can probably surmise that he's all in agreement with her plan.

She watches him, her eyelids fluttering but not closing, her breath shuddering but she doesn't make a sound. No, that's a lie. There's the barest whimper in the back of her throat as suckles her tender flesh.

Her fingers comb through his hair, and she has to consciously still her reflex to pull him closer. Each kiss makes the muscles of her stomach flutter and she arches her back, letting him take her weight in his hands. Every inch of her skin is hot, flushed with anticipation.

He keeps his mouth light and sweet, occasionally brushing her with the barest hint of tounge, running her other nipple between finger and thumb. She wants to make some history for these jewels? He's happy to oblige.

Her eyes do fall closed then, and her lips curl into a slow smile. She can feel his cock growing hard again between her thighs, and her hips rock forward, pressing against him.

"Use your teeth."

She wants teeth, she's got it. He's careful though, letting her feel them but not causing pain. Well, not too much.

"Fuck, yes," she hisses, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Yesyesyes."

He chuckles and backs off, going back to a gentle sucking for a moment or two and then switching sides.

'You don't let me do this enough,' he murmurs, because he really does have a deep appreciation of tits.

And then shuts up again as he goes to work on the other.

Another hard shiver goes through her as he takes that hard nipple between sharp teeth, and she gasps, clenching around him as he bites down. Goosebumps flare on her skin, and there's a soft, pleading sound on her lips.

"Let you do it any time you want, cariño." She bends to press her nose into his hair, smothering another whimper. Every time he bites, he can feel the tremor go through her.

He's hard and straining against her; can feel her wet and hot against him. But he makes no move to take her, just bites harder briefly before returning to a gentle nibble, lathing a firm tongue over that hard nub of flesh and running hands over her ribs.

Her hips roll against him, slick and wet along the hard length of him, her breath hitching in the back of her throat. Her fingers are tangled in his hair, nails teasing along his scalp.

Her head tips back, and her body arches, lithe and strong, revelling in offering herself to his mouth, her hips pulled in tight to his.

A few moments more and he can't resist any longer; he takes his mouth off her just long enough to raise her up with his hands, pull her forward and find that sweet opening, breathing hard as he pushes into her. But just a couple of inches, just far enough for her to feel him hit the most sensitive spots - he pulls his knees up so they're bent and jams his hands flat against his thighs, underneath her so that she can't sink any lower, left resting on his arms.

'You just sit there and wait,' he tells her with a lazy smirk, tongue flicking out over her nipple once more before he pulls it back between his teeth where it belongs.

"Oh Jesusmaryjoseph." Her accent is thick, her tone heavy and dark. He can feel the fine sheen of sweat rise on her skin. Her calves are draped over his arms and she can raise and lower herself just enough. It's delicious, sweet torture, and it lets her feel everything he's doing to her.

Again, her hands weave in his hair, just touching him, barely guiding him. This position feels so exposed, so vulnerable, so raw and intense, every swipe of his tongue makes her tremble. She's almost completely at his mercy like this, and right now, there's no where else she'd rather be.

He groans his agreement; torture is what it is but the best kind. She's moving so slow which is what he wants, especially as it's right over that most sensitive part of him, but it's agony. He eases his hips up and down as much as he can, slow as anything, savouring the way she slides over his nerve endings.

She can barely move, barely breathe like this and it's glorious. The sensitive flesh of her nipples seems woven somehow with the sweet sensations unfolding in her cunt. Every flicker of his tongue, every gentle nip of his teeth, and she pulses around him. Instinct wants him deeper, but he won't let her move, so she settles for rolling her hips in a decadent circle. Every bite gets another whimper, and her hands fist in his hair. Every soothing pass of his tongue, every press of his hips makes her tremble and moan.

The way she holds him drives him crazy, she always keeps him in so tight, like she needs what he does to her. He sucks harder, letting her drop an inch further down on his cock because she's making him ache and its killing him. He moans against her skin and his neck and shoulders are tight with need, muscles tense.

She lets out a frustrated cry, hands skimming over his shoulders. She can lift herself with her legs, and she does, lengthening their murderously slow advance and retreat. She can feel how thick and hard he is, and with each pull and press, she grips him tighter, wanting him to make that sound again.

The diamonds bite into her skin where her shoulders rise, but it doesn't even register.

"Please," she whispers into his hair and he can hear that need in her voice, completely without guile. Simple and pure need.

He relents; he has to. His cock is on fire and her slow slide on it is impossible to bear; a few more moments, a few more strangled moans and he's letting her go, letting her sink down on him and take him all, losing himself in her body.

Yes. Yes. He fills her, the heat of his blood radiating through her torso. Tangled up like this, she can feel his heart, beating strong and sure. He lets her legs slip back down to the bed, and though she doesn't have any more control than she did a moment ago, every twist of her hips grinds her clit against the base of his cock.

Slow and intense, strong and true. Her arms wind around his neck again, her ankles crossing behind his back. She takes his mouth in a languorous, open-mouth kisses broken only by the tiny gasps she makes when he moves, tiny fragments in Gaelic, both harsh and pleading.

He moves slow and hardly at all, just letting the smallest movements build them up. It's nice like this, all tangled together and deep kisses and having her close like this. He's gentle as he rocks carefully, fingers taking over from where his mouth was a few moments ago, kissing her deep and soft and taking all the time in the world.

Every time she thinks they can't go any higher, that they've had the best sex that any two people can ever hope to have, something like this happens between them.

She's utterly lost in the moment, lost in the taste and smell and sound and feel of him. She closes her eyes, focusing on the feel of his mouth against hers, thinking she could come from his kiss alone, but he's moving in her, deep inside her body, like he belongs there. Like she belongs to him.

Breath to breath, heart to heart, she draws the pleasure into her and feeds it back to him.

He takes it and gives it back easily, equally lost in her body, hands running up her back and into her hair. But he wants to bring her on, feel her fall apart while unable to really help herself out; wants her to come while relying on him to keep her steady. So he slips a hand between her legs while still kissing her deep, finding her clit with the tip of a single finger and stroking so gently over it.

Her body ripples with that touch, her face twisting up in a grimace. Her grip on him tightens, hands, legs, cunt, all of it. A tight pleading sound slips from her lips.

"Not yet."

He has her completely at his mercy, she knows. But this is too good to rush. He touches her again and she responds, sinking into that kiss again, knowing what's coming and powerless to stop it.

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