latino_menace | OOM: Christmas

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OOM: Christmas

It had taken three attempts to get Bar to open the door to where he wanted to go. Three times he looked out on a truly scummy bar filled with sweaty, running men and the sounds of choppers bearing down in the distance; Hell on the edge of a jungle.

Not where he wants to be right now.

On the fourth attempt - it's warm. Not hot, but pleasantly mild and the view is of a comfortably lived-in sitting room, with child's toys in a corner and overstuffed sofas and armchairs dotted around. The first thing his eyes rest upon is a glass still half full of Scotch; the second a stone block on the table, a sculpture with a woman's face looking out of one side. He pauses for a moment (so long since all that), then wanders in and puts his bag down, goes to the French windows to look over the garden that ends in beach and then, nothing but sea. Three thousand miles of sea standing between him and home.

But it's alright. It's nice to see the place again. He'd had mixed feelings the night before, wondering if it would be unpleasantly strange to have Fiona here. But it's not. He wants her to see it. For some reason, letting her see the places he lives is like letting her see himself. It's not even about showing off, this time. The house is not small but still modest by his standards. And it was a real home, for a while. Maybe he wants her to know that he can live normally, sometimes.

'Want a tour or do you want to head straight off? I just need to make a couple of calls before we go.'

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She shivers, sighs into his mouth, her teeth catching his lower lip in a lingering almost-bite. She leans closer, pressing into that touch, slip sliding over his cock.

The hand in his hair tightens as she gasps.

"Want you in me."

'In a minute.'

He was to get her desperate before he lets her climb on - she just had him at her mercy, now he wants her at his. He holds her close enough that she can't just manoeuver herself on to him, keeping her tight against the hand playing between her legs, tickling gently over that sensitive nub.

Her grip tightens on him, but not because of the direct stimulation. Oh his hand is doing amazing things to her body, things that make her lips twist in a silent cry of ecstasy. But it's the way he holds her so close, the strength of his embrace and the sound of his voice that send her higher. Her hips roll, but it is her heart that twists in her chest.

She captures his mouth again, moaning against his lips. Letting him feel it in her hands and in her body.

He feels lazy this afternoon. Maybe it was the long drive, maybe the heat and steam of this water all around them, maybe the afterglow of the fantastic orgasm she gave him ten minutes ago. Maybe a combination of all of it. Either way, he has all the time in the world to play with her, languid strokes of his thumb keeping her moaning while his fingers push down and into her, buried into that tight heat he adores.

'I'm gonna make you come so hard.'

A long shivering cry slips from her lips, a sound of pure, decadent pleasure. Her hand flutters at the back of his neck, that shiver travelling through her like an earthquake.

Her movements stay slow and even, but he can feel her muscles trembling, can feel her breath coming in ragged little gasps.

He smirks, slow and quiet, watching her from under half-lidded eyes. He knows exactly what effect he's having and as usual, he's more than a little smug about it. But as she'll no doubt be able to tell, seeing her like this turns him on just as much and if he didn't want to make her come so bad, he'd take her right now and let her feel for herself.

"Baby, please."

Her hips rock into him, hard enough to make the water in the tub slosh up to the edge. Her nails dig into his shoulder and she's buried her face in his neck, muffling her cries against his skin.

Please don't keep me at arm's length. Please let me feel your heart against mine. Me vida, please.

He lets out a long breath, pressing into her harder, faster, stroking her where he knows she needs it.

'Come for me.'

It's a quiet command. He knows she needs to and it's what he wants to see, to feel.

She hears his voice and goes taut, her hips bucking hard against his hand. He knows how to touch her, knows how to push her, knows how to break her. He can feel the hard pulse going through her, can feel it coiling up her spine. He can hear it as she keens against his shoulder, holding tight around his neck, her knees dug into his thighs so hard she's probably going to leave bruises.

He chuckles softly, self-satisfied, stilling his hand in gradual increments as he lays a kiss on her cheek. If he didn't know how she liked to be held after coming like that, he'd be getting ready to take her right now.

'Feel good?'

He knows it did.

"Mmmm."

She presses into that kiss, her whole body shivering as the razor sweet pleasure bleeds away. Her arms twine around his neck and she kisses the strong line of his jaw.

"Need you, still. Please."

'Would never refuse.'

He goes to turn her in his arms, wanting to be able to hold her against his chest.

'This way?'

The 'please' goes unspoken but is evident in his tone.

A smile emerges at that. "Mmmyeah, but just let me..." She pulls away enough to catch his mouth, a slow, deep, tender kiss.

He can have whatever he wants, so long as he remembers this, she thinks.

When the kiss ends, she slips away from him, eyes closed, turning to rest her back against his chest. Small deft hands take his hard cock and guide him into tight, wet heat.

He breaths out something like a sigh, letting her settle deep on him before wrapping his arms tight around her middle, holding her flush to him and pressing slow, open-mouthed, kisses along her shoulder.

'You're beautiful,' he murmurs, starting to rock his hips slowly. 'So beautiful.'

Her sigh mingles with his, a little higher pitched, a little less steady. She melts in his embrace, her head falling back against his shoulder, her hands rising to weave in his hair. Her hips roll in time with his motions, a decadent, slow press and release.

The heat of the water, the heat of his body, the feel of him buried deep inside her, all of it feels so good. She turns and presses a kiss to his temple, her heart in her mouth, and pulsing low in her belly.

There's nothing like being buried balls deep in a woman, especially in a jacuzzi and with a woman like this. His hand creeps up to cup a breast, massaging her gently as he moans his appreciation of how she makes him feel.

'I was almost this hard in the car,' he murmurs in her ear, sounding amused. 'Watching you sleep, thinking of getting in you like this.'

She has that effect.

"Mmm, where you belong," she breathes.

Her hands slip down to cover his, holding him close, moving in perfect rhythm with him. She hooks her toes around his calves, her knees spread wide. Gently, oh so gently, she guides his hand down to cover her mons.

His fingers slide between her legs, feeling himself moving in her, running through her soft flesh, gently fingering her clit. He never stops kissing her neck, nibbling at her ear, murmuring soft Spanish between quiet groans of need and pleasure. He loves being able to watch the way she's spread for him, loves that she loves it.

Her spine curls, her hips tilt, trying to get him as deep as possible. She can feel his hands slipping over her wet skin, can feel the waves of pleasure moving through her. The sound of his voice in her ear, the feel of him moving inside of her, pours into her like fire.

She closes her eyes, focuses on the sound of his voice, wanting to lose herself and wanting to take him along for the ride.

He starts to lift her a little now, wanting more friction down the length of him, needing to feel her moving on him properly. The water makes it easy and he's smooth in his movements, making her ride him but keeping her close, not breaking the intimacy of it.

Every other stroke draws a soft moan from her throat. He's hitting that sweet spot, and she can feel it sending pulses up her spine. Her fingertips dig into his arms and her heels dig into his calves, holding on as his pace quickens just a bit.

His name is on her lips, a soft plea mingled with incoherent Gaelic.

His pace is starting to quicken a lot now; starting to move properly set him on to something he can't turn away from. She just feels so damn good in his arms, so small and toned and tight and he's biting down on her neck, murmuring her name against her wet skin as sensation starts to spread through him properly, muscles starting to clench and harden under the force of it.

Oh fuck that's good.

The feel of his teeth in her skin draws a cry from deep inside her chest. In the span of heartbeats, she's pulsing hard around him, helpless against the searing pleasure boiling through her body.

He's pounding into her, hard and fast, and she's coming apart, shaking and gripping him so tight, all rational thought blown away.

He groans helplessly and moves without really meaning to; from sitting, he's suddenly on his knees, holding her around the middle and making her lean on the edge of the tub so he can give it to her properly, holding nothing back. The water swirls around them and he watches the bubbles break against her skin as his fingers seek out her clit once more, wanting her coming again before he finally lets himself go.

She grabs the edge of the tub, bracing herself, still shaking, still gasping for breath. The water against her skin multiplies the sensation a thousand fold, and when his fingertips find her clit, she jerks hard, twisting and writhing, trying to get more.

He's still moving, driving into her, giving her no choice. She presses back, using her strength inside and out to meet and match his energy.

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