[It's a low moan, a curse that's equal parts reverent and lazy. His fingers slide up slowly, smoothing through her hair and sweeping it back, pushing it out of her face as she works. Honestly, she could do nothing but those teasing little kitten-licks and he'd be just fine. All she'd have to do would be to stare up at him with those eyes and he'd be gone, just like that.]
Now . . .
[His fingers tighten in her hair, and he tugs her forward lightly, more firm suggestion than quiet demand. His voice is drawling, not an honest inquiry so much as filler as he watches her. ]
. . . if the whole point is to test the system, shouldn't you not be getting yourself off right now? Not that I'm complaining.
[Oh, that earns him a look. It's a fair question, all things considered. But. How dare?]
A little fun is hardly getting myself off. Besides, weren't you listening? Masturbation doesn't count.
[Masturbation in front of the guy you're blowing probably does, and she knows this, but let her live. Maybe he'll be too distracted to notice.
She runs her tongue over him again, making sure to take her time. God, if she doesn't love the feel of his hands in her hair though, not so subtly urging her on without any real sense of urgency. That's the difference between him and her usual lays, she realizes. Reilly, Jonesy, Stewart... They fawn over her. She's in control, without a doubt, and they'd do damn near anything to keep her around... As evidenced by that little showdown at the farm before she left. Ugh.
But Haymitch? There's something rewarding in knowing she still has to prove herself to him. Her reputation hasn't followed her here, so he's not shy about giving her shit even as she's got her face buried in his lap. It's not like it'll scare her off. He knows her better than that, and after, what, a week? It didn't take long, but honestly? It's pretty fucking simple.
She wants to be here. It's a concept she and Haymitch have addressed thoroughly by now, yes, but it's a closed issue. It's not something that needs to come up again, and he knows full well he doesn't have to waste time convincing her to stay.
Few other men seem to grasp this concept.]
Or is this just more of you trying to convince me to let you fuck me?
[It's scoffing, a disbelieving little echo even as his fingers curl tighter, tipping her head back so he can look at her properly, lips all red and swollen already.]
Like your mouth wasn't watering at the thought. Nice try, sweetheart.
[But hey: talking is well and good, he'll talk all night, but there's also other things she could be doing with her mouth. Like finishing what she started; like not leaving him aching and just a little desperate for her to start again. His hips rock forward pointedly, his hand smoothing through her hair again.]
[Those swollen little lips of her curve into a pout as he calls her bluff. She's been caught. Of course she has, because of course the thought of him fucking her has a leg up on just sucking him off. She wants those hands on her, that mouth of his...]
Oh, you'll get that chance. You're the one getting lucky tonight, but this isn't over.
[Mark her words, she is not going another week without sex. This is already pushing it. Suddenly, the experiment doesn't sound all that important. What a stupid excuse to get into his pants, since clearly that's all this was. What had he said? Stop trying to understand and start trying to survive? Hm. Which of those categories would outright fucking him fall under...?
Hm, nevermind, it doesn't matter one way or the other. She's too proud to admit he's right and too patient to cash in this early. After tonight, he'll owe her, and he's the type of man to care about that sort of thing.
She takes him in again, this time more slowly, one hand sliding over him as her tongue swirls. She's done with the teasing. Her head dips down in long, measured pulls, her pace gradually quickening as her fingers matching the rhythm. She wants to see him squirm, now. ]
[He doesn't get overwhelmed stupidly quickly, spilling off like some teenager, and that's something he bets she hasn't experienced in a while. He's sure she gets whoever she wants, but that probably means they're all just a little too eager for her. No, instead: it's a slow-building heat, steadily rising the longer she works at it.
His breath goes unsteady, that's the first sign. His fingers flexing tightly in her hair, pulling her in as his hips slowly roll forward. It's an easy gesture, one easily fought off, but he has a feeling she's not gonna mind his fucking her mouth a little.]
Shit, that's good . . .
[The sensation, sure, but the sight, the sounds, god, the fucking situation, as unreal as it is insane, and yet right now he doesn't have to think about that, he doesn't have to think about anything but what they're doing right in this moment, overwhelmingly pleasurable and perfect.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polyapathy) wrote2019-10-12 09:47 pm
no subject
[It's a low moan, a curse that's equal parts reverent and lazy. His fingers slide up slowly, smoothing through her hair and sweeping it back, pushing it out of her face as she works. Honestly, she could do nothing but those teasing little kitten-licks and he'd be just fine. All she'd have to do would be to stare up at him with those eyes and he'd be gone, just like that.]
Now . . .
[His fingers tighten in her hair, and he tugs her forward lightly, more firm suggestion than quiet demand. His voice is drawling, not an honest inquiry so much as filler as he watches her. ]
. . . if the whole point is to test the system, shouldn't you not be getting yourself off right now? Not that I'm complaining.
no subject
A little fun is hardly getting myself off. Besides, weren't you listening? Masturbation doesn't count.
[Masturbation in front of the guy you're blowing probably does, and she knows this, but let her live. Maybe he'll be too distracted to notice.
She runs her tongue over him again, making sure to take her time. God, if she doesn't love the feel of his hands in her hair though, not so subtly urging her on without any real sense of urgency. That's the difference between him and her usual lays, she realizes. Reilly, Jonesy, Stewart... They fawn over her. She's in control, without a doubt, and they'd do damn near anything to keep her around... As evidenced by that little showdown at the farm before she left. Ugh.
But Haymitch? There's something rewarding in knowing she still has to prove herself to him. Her reputation hasn't followed her here, so he's not shy about giving her shit even as she's got her face buried in his lap. It's not like it'll scare her off. He knows her better than that, and after, what, a week? It didn't take long, but honestly? It's pretty fucking simple.
She wants to be here. It's a concept she and Haymitch have addressed thoroughly by now, yes, but it's a closed issue. It's not something that needs to come up again, and he knows full well he doesn't have to waste time convincing her to stay.
Few other men seem to grasp this concept.]
Or is this just more of you trying to convince me to let you fuck me?
no subject
[It's scoffing, a disbelieving little echo even as his fingers curl tighter, tipping her head back so he can look at her properly, lips all red and swollen already.]
Like your mouth wasn't watering at the thought. Nice try, sweetheart.
[But hey: talking is well and good, he'll talk all night, but there's also other things she could be doing with her mouth. Like finishing what she started; like not leaving him aching and just a little desperate for her to start again. His hips rock forward pointedly, his hand smoothing through her hair again.]
I just wanna see you squirm, that's all.
no subject
Oh, you'll get that chance. You're the one getting lucky tonight, but this isn't over.
[Mark her words, she is not going another week without sex. This is already pushing it. Suddenly, the experiment doesn't sound all that important. What a stupid excuse to get into his pants, since clearly that's all this was. What had he said? Stop trying to understand and start trying to survive? Hm. Which of those categories would outright fucking him fall under...?
Hm, nevermind, it doesn't matter one way or the other. She's too proud to admit he's right and too patient to cash in this early. After tonight, he'll owe her, and he's the type of man to care about that sort of thing.
She takes him in again, this time more slowly, one hand sliding over him as her tongue swirls. She's done with the teasing. Her head dips down in long, measured pulls, her pace gradually quickening as her fingers matching the rhythm. She wants to see him squirm, now. ]
no subject
His breath goes unsteady, that's the first sign. His fingers flexing tightly in her hair, pulling her in as his hips slowly roll forward. It's an easy gesture, one easily fought off, but he has a feeling she's not gonna mind his fucking her mouth a little.]
Shit, that's good . . .
[The sensation, sure, but the sight, the sounds, god, the fucking situation, as unreal as it is insane, and yet right now he doesn't have to think about that, he doesn't have to think about anything but what they're doing right in this moment, overwhelmingly pleasurable and perfect.]