OOM: Christmas

[latino_menace]

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.'

Comments

[latino_menace]

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.

[justcallmefee]

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.

[latino_menace]

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.

[justcallmefee]

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.

[latino_menace]

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.

[justcallmefee]

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.

[latino_menace]

'Again Fi, again.'

His voice is tight, strained, desperate; one hand playing with her, the other digging into her side as he grips, needing to hang on to her to keep up the pace. He feels like he's made of heated stone, he's so tense with pleasure, fighting to keep it under control because he needs to feel her come again, he wants nothing more than to feel that squeeze around his cock.

[justcallmefee]

Everything in the world draws down to the sound of his voice and that white heat, uncoiling in her belly. He is a hurricane and she is the eye of that storm. The tremor and pulse move through her in the same breath, twisting her up into a knot of bliss. It seems to go on forever, pleasure tensing all the lines of her body as she arches into it, drowning all over again.

[latino_menace]

The instant he feels it he's gone, his head dropping back and moaning on every sweet, deep, slowing thrust, coating her inside and entirely lost in the quicksand of sticky, overbearing pleasure.

He stills eventually but doesn't move, hands still on her hips, breathing hard and just waiting, waiting to regain some equilibrium.

[justcallmefee]

Her head hangs between her shoulders, and she struggles to catch her breath. Water drips from her face, sweat and steam mingling. She's still faintly pulsing around him, aftershocks shimmering through her slight frame.

One hand comes back to rest on his, fingers interlacing.

[latino_menace]

A few moments more and he's moving, still in her, bracing himself on the edge of the jacuzzi so he can lean forward and press a kiss to her shoulder.

'You alright? Not hurt?'

[justcallmefee]

"Mmmno, fine," she breathes, resting her head against her arms. Her hips still move, just a bit, a decadent slow circling, the last of the heat bleeding away. Another long moment, until she can finally breathe properly.

She pulls away, hissing softly, turning in his embrace. Her hands slip around his shoulders, and she pulls him back down into the water, nuzzling under his jaw.

"M'gonna be dead by the time we reach the snow," she smiles.

[latino_menace]

'Oh, I think you'll manage,' he smirks, running his handd down her back.

Submerging under the bubbles bring its own kind of pleasure, warm bubbles mxing with the afterglow, steam relaxing the tension away. He coud stay here all night.

'You might be dead after, though.'

[justcallmefee]

"Gonna die happy," she murmurs, her voice thick and drowsy. "S'long as you're with me."

She trails slow, sensuous kisses along his shoulder, before shifting to recapture his mouth. If she could form a thought right now, she'd tell him his kiss is better than sex. But language is so not on the agenda right now.

[latino_menace]

He'd never believe her. He doesn't think anything is better than sex. But kissing is very nice too and he returns it in kind, slow and full of feeling as he pulls her properly into his lap.

'Can't fall asleep in here,' he reminds her gently, though it doesn't seem like a bad idea.

[justcallmefee]

She twines herself around him, fingers combing gently through his wet hair.

"In a minute," she murmurs. "Not done yet."

[latino_menace]

He chuckles and lays his head back, enjoying the quiet intimacy. His hands don't stop rubbing lazy circles over her back and sides.

'Was there anything you wanted to do in Switzerland that doesn't have to do with sex?'

Just askin'. He's fine if the answer is 'no'.

[justcallmefee]

She hums, thinking, drifting on the endorphin high.

"I hear they do good chocolate." He can feel her grin against his jaw.
"Maybe someone could bring us some?"

[latino_menace]

He laughs again. He is indifferent to chocolate but it has its uses.

'We can get you some chocolate. And some mousse or something, so I can eat it off your body.'

[justcallmefee]

She laughs quietly under her breath, nestling closer.

"You better be careful, Mr. Salazar. I'm going to get the impression you like me or something."

[latino_menace]

'Oh dear. Can't have that. I'll have to go back to just fucking you rough then.'

She knows he likes her. At least, he thinks she should have figured it out by now.

[justcallmefee]

She's just teasing. She knows.

"I could go back to tying you up, too, y'know," she grins.

[latino_menace]

'I'm fine with that.'

Really, really fine.

'So long as I can do it to you as well.'

Beat.

'And if you think you can handle it.'

[justcallmefee]

A shiver runs through her. She rests her forehead against his cheek.

"I trust you," she says, realising two things simultaneously.

It's probably not the wisest thing she's ever believed and it's true.

[latino_menace]

'That's not what I meant.'

His eyes glint with amusement.

'I'm told there's a limit to how many times a woman can come and still have it be nice - let me tie you up and do what I want to you, you might find out what that's like.'

Another beat.

'That aside, you don't trust me. You're in denial, remember?'

He hasn't forgotten the moment with the newspaper back in Portugal.