( isabelle knows better than to doubt that fact that he could likely make her swallow back her words and plea instead for a reprieve, for more (and then deny her, yet), but she knows at least tonight he's just as pent up as she is, if the hard line of him pressing at the front of his jeans has anything to say on the matter.
so even when his tongue rolls so fluently to prep that single, resounding smack to her ass, she can't help the way lids fall closed to relish in the white heat that rolls over her, the sound that blossoms from the heart of her throat, causing lips to break apart into a gratified sigh. )
Mmh—
( a drawn hiss through her teeth, brows giving the tiniest furrow before gaze opens ablaze once more to study his features, written over predatorily. it's only once that sharp sting begins to slowly, slowly dissipate in favor of that now-caressing palm that she dares speak up again, voice carrying a hint of strain. it's clear that he's gotten to her, perhaps edged away a fraction of the resilience flaunted when he'd walked in that door, but she was never an easy catch. he wouldn't be here if she was. ) You don't like me being bad, papi?
I like you, baby, ( rene says with a huff of laughter, low in his throat. ) And I like that you like to be bad. ( his palm kneads again, a slow massage of her skin by hands fight-roughened. )
'Cause I know how bad you want this — ( another spank, firm as the last, but against her other cheek, the sting of it seeming to course right through him. the way she flinches when he does it, her whole body squirming against his lap, makes how bad he fucking wants her hard to ignore.
rene, for once in his life, doesn't wanna rush this, though, despite every fiber of his being practically screaming at him to drop her against the bed, bury himself between her thighs. no, no, he has to sate himself another way; another spank, because apparently he's feeling generous, and without warning, his fingers delve between those thighs, brush rough against lace that's warm, practically soaked with her sheer need for him. it elicits a groan from him, not bothering to try hiding it. god, she is so fucking hot.
his fingers curl around that thin piece of lace, his hand sliding back upwards and pulling her panties taut against her, bunched fabric tight between those beautiful cheeks, to give her the sensation of it and greedily, to expose more of her skin to him; he'll remove them when he's good and ready, or else he's a goner. ) Dios, mami. You're something else.
( she takes care to let any little writhe of hips in anticipation and response to those smacks brush intentionally against him, a kiss of friction to contest the fires he's set to her skin, even beneath bronzed dermis. she can hear it in the way he talks to her, natural as it seems for him to find that tongue in such circumstances, how much he struggles to keep himself inline, some semblance of discipline from taking her the moment he'd opened that door.
this time when a hit lands to her bottom, there's a hitch of a breath inward, held at the roof of her mouth with a press of tongue, finally letting lids fall closed to a heavenward roll. he's precise with every slap, how he tucks two digits beneath that laced layer to pull taut against the bundle of her clit, graze against the heat of her, and she can't help but to rock herself into it. it wasn't usual for her to have a man strut into her home, toss her over their shoulder and have her over their knee in so short a span of time, but there's a devilish temptation that comes with him, cruel to resist, and she doesn't want to anymore.
she's been good long enough; cadelle could serve as some sort of the reprieve she needed. teeth drain that vixen-red color from her lips as they snatch down, hair a thick spill of waves along one side of her neck, palms keeping her in place causing fabric of that cropped hoodie to rise, plentiful breasts brushing against her comforter. ) You look like you could use a little attention.
( a suggestive clip, reaching a single hand between them to deftly make work of his jeans' fastening, arch of her spine accentuating all the further to give herself proper room to do so. her bottom already boasts a rosy hue— while she can give him some bite of control, it wasn't in the lightwood way not to find some sort of means to get ahead. rounded tip of nails trails beneath his navel, giving a snap to his briefs. ) What it is you want, hermoso?
( the way she grinds against the pulled fabric is sexy, the feeling of her moving and squirming against his lap so seemingly precise he thinks it could drive him right over the edge. the crack in rene's very fragile sense of self control seems to spread further and further by the second, spiderwebbing outwards, threatening to shatter entirely with a single touch, a single roll of hips, the catching of teeth against ruby lips.
he wants her so bad that it hurts, cock aching with desire as it presses against the confines of his jeans, and he knows that izzy knows it; she'd virtually had him to this point before he'd pulled the hoodie over his head and stormed outside, switching from hastily typed words to a breathy voice in his ear.
she knows. it's why her hand dares to slip between their bodies, graze over his thigh until it can undo the button of his jeans, tug the zipper down to reveal the waistband of his briefs, taught against carved hip bones. the drag of fingernails beneath his navel makes him groan, his own hand giving her ass a squeeze as though it's the only thing he could possibly hold onto in this moment to steady himself.
he's surprised he can hear her question over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the sting of the waistband snapping against his skin. ) I want to be inside of you, ( comes his low reply through gritted teeth. with a steadying breath, his eyes blink open, gaze dark as it takes in the sight of her over his knee, the peek of rounded breasts beneath her cropped hoodie, the arch of her back, the lingering swell of red over her curved bottom. he feels as though he may burst, too much pent up inside of him. ) Do you think you deserve that, baby girl? ( another spank, this one no lighter, followed by a matching one to the other cheek, before his palm smooths over her skin again, massages slow and deep. another comment that sounds like a challenge, a dare: ) You tell me, since you're so damn mouthy.
( there’s a haste that begs to take hold of them, and while it’d be all too easy to straddle her into his lap, slip down those briefs and jeans of just enough to press into her, he’s still wearing far too much for her liking, but she hasn’t the mind to crawl off of him just yet. especially not when he soothes over those raw prints he’d left behind, flesh rouge and searing. groans are all the more vivid, dirtied and private now that he’s beside her, under her, against her, now that she can feel them claw at the hollow of his chest.
his admission rewards him with a breath of a mew, startled to a gasp as his palm strikes her again, one to each cheek—shoulder blades pinch together, crown tipping back to leave locks spilling over her spine, stolen for the moment at that heated lick of pain that runs through her. she’ll be sore tomorrow, there’s no denying it, and while she has an easy means of healing the abused area over, she just might enjoy feeling him every time she sits, like a lingering punishment. )
Someone deserves a reward for this, no? ( a huff of a reply while she gathers a steadier tone, unable to keep herself still against him, to keep from pressing against that pull of fabric, chasing any means of friction she can find whether she’s given body permission or not. a moan laces it’s way through pressed lips, left in a slight part. she’s not shy to drag the heart of her palm down further along his briefs, rubbing its heel along the line of him, thick and hard and all because of her. ) But I don’t think it matters. ‘Cause you need it.
( a daring grab of his cock through that cotton, dampened near the swell of his tip. ) Don’t you, cari?
( rene's not good at this — well, maybe he's aight, but it's a learning process for sure, learning the delicate balance between sating certain desires and leaving the others to wait, self-control at an expert level, in order to earn a better payoff.
if he were, perhaps he'd wrap his free hand around her wrist, snatch it away and pin it against the bed, really give her a spanking for touching him without permission, for trying to take matters into her own hands when he's clearly the one in charge here. he'd bark some equally mouthy retort
his self-control levels are certainly not at an expert level. instead, he can only let out a sharp breath, tip his head back and let deft fingers curl around him, an agonizing layer of cotton between them, his cock twitching in response to her touch, precome leaking from the head. teeth catch his lower lip, suppress a moan, a desperate plea for more as though he's not the one in charge here.
— wait, but he is. rene's response isn't verbal, is merely the meeting of his sharp gaze with hers. fuck it.
there isn't a shred of gentleness with how he practically manhandles her yet again, scoops her up and drops her onto her back on the bed. nails drag against the soft skin at her hips as he yanks those dampened panties off of her, tossed to the floor somewhere, and he doesn't even have the patience to do anything more than gruffly pull his jeans and briefs down over his ass, crawl over her and guide his cock inside of her and it's —
fuck, she's so good, so wet because of him, warm and tight as she accommodates him, his hipbones pressed against her as she fully takes him, a moaned out, ) Fuck, mami —
( this is what she'd been edging him towards, that glaze that takes over his hues when they snap to hers, that moment he tries to keep from giving in so soon when the reward is so sweet. and she'd snicker, she would, but it's a daze of motions that leaves her twirled and falling to the plush of that mattress, watching with iris' blown to black pools the way he shoves down what layers he needs to in order to take her, and thighs part all too willingly to accommodate.
there wasn't anything between them that demanded they take their time, play up any set of morals or boundaries of respect—she'd been clear on her intentions upon her invitation, and so there isn't any guilt. any shame to the way she hastily makes purchase with nails at the lower of his back, slipping beneath the thick cotton of his own hoodie to clasp onto him as he grabs the base of his cock and aligns himself, fills and stretches her with a single, full stroke. )
Se siente rico— ( natural tongue finds her, words stumbling from her lips in a rushed pant, velveteen walls giving a gratified clasp around his width, trying desperately to adjust. a swallowed back whimper, giving him no choice but to aid her in tugging that upper layer of his up and off of his frame, revealing an array of scars amidst ridges of definition, marveling both of her palms appreciatively along each plane of his chest. another time she'd map them with her lips, a trace of fingertips, right now all she can think about is the way she practically pulses around him, finding his eyes in the dark of that bedroom with a kindred hunger.
thick, creamy canvas of her thighs find each side of him, using her calve against his bottom to give a last little pull of his hips, assuring he's jarred into her as far as possible. )
( he'd feel stupid for waiting so god damn long when she feels so good, but the build up — these long moments spread into nearly hours — plural — of anticipation, of getting them both more ready than they've possibly ever been has turned out to be well worth it. the feeling of being inside of her, of having legs drawn tightly around him to pull him in as close as physically possible, the way her body shifts with him to take his length —
his eyes practically roll into the back of his head with pleasure as she takes him to the hilt, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment while he just savors this feeling, this oh-so-prevalent feeling of satisfaction.
her voice is music to his ears, spilling past reddened lips, and his senses are far too overloaded to fight the tug of his sweatshirt over his head, left hanging somewhere on the edge of the bed — a godsend, considering the sheen of sweat coating his skin once it's gone. rene will do the same in time, surely, but for now, there are other matters at hand, pressing in a way that renders everything else unimportant.
slowly, slowly, rene arcs his hips backwards, cock sliding with ease from within her until only the head remains, and then he grinds back into her, fingers curling into the sheets on either side of isabelle's head. it's an agonizingly slow pace that he's setting, but he knows that it won't last long with how tight she is around him, how far she's driven him with her words and very little touch.
his face remains just above, lips a breath away from hers — hell, he can feel each and every pant that passes her lips, can practically taste the sound of her whimper — and he murmurs, voice strained, ) Tú bien, cariña?
( she can't decide where to latch her gaze as his hips give that slow withdraw, jaw tightening and crowns catching unforgivably at own lower lip, hues flitting down to watch the way his abdomen contracts, the sharp lines along each hip bone that only draw her sights to him, watching til the plush of his cock only teases inside of her before she's full once again. a moan flowers from the bed of her throat, chest bowing from the mattress, toes curling inward. )
Si, papi— ( breathless- there's some part of her, dazed and distant that processes his words, eventually finds a means of putting thought to tongue and tongue to words when it can barely wrap itself around a breath that isn't ragged, too caught up in how good it felt—the way he stretches her out, how fluently he grinds his hips to hers to ensure he hits right to that sensitive spot at her limits, giving in to something she's needed for far too long.
one hand's raveled itself agains his forearm just beside her, some means to ground herself, a thin layer of sweat like dew left sheen across her temples, and when wide eyes flutter open again they're fixed to his, studying the way pleasure twitches at his mouth, lids at half mast.
crown tips in order to grab at his fuller lip, suck it gently between the plush of her own brims before giving him a taste of teeth, sharp and sweet in the bite that's left behind, and once more that competitive glint arises. ) More.
( isabelle, rene has very slowly learned, is an expert at getting whatever she wants, whenever she wants it. first, the buzz of his phone, an image revealed, and she got him here. next, his hands on her, rough and unforgiving, just as she'd asked. even now, with him inside of her, those ruby lips capture his, teeth tug at his lower lip, needy and fuck, he is all too happy too happy to indulge her, indulge that request — that demand for more.
it's now that he realizes that he hasn't just straight up kissed her yet, and that shit ain't gonna fly. no, his lips crash hard against hers, a little messy, definitely a little dirty, tongue licking into her mouth as his lips part against hers.
this doesn't deter the movement of his hips, grinding hard into her, burying his cock deep as he picks up his pace — more, all for her, the girl who has pushed him further than anyone ever has, and even still, he finds himself craving more.
rene leans his weight against her, skin against skin, a low moan against her painted lips as he hits just the right spot, dios — and he can't help the way his fingers, grabbing at the sheets below, catch some of her hair as they curl inward, tug as he tries to steady himself as he fucks her. ) Isabelle, ( he groans — there's no izzy, no mamí or other terms of endearment, just each syllable of her name carried past his lips like a prayer. )
( there's nothing traditional about the two of them—it wasn't as if she was a woman who couldn't appreciate pleasure for what it was, but it's so rare she let herself follow those threads of desire back home, let herself focus on anything other than work, on who she needed to protect. she's not used to only having herself to look after; being selfish wasn't in her nature, despite the way she'll claim his mouth as if against hers is the only place it belongs when it finally finds her, that she'll exhaust herself into him now that she has him, now that he's nestled himself a home between her thighs.
she doesn't have the discipline to keep from wanting him, needing him, hollow of her throat exposed as his fingers tangle within her locks just as they do those sheets, a flare of soft pain amidst the bundle of heat he coils beneath her navel each time he fucks into her. and he doesn't shy from giving her exactly what she'd asked for—mierda the way he rolls his hips to hers, licks into the cave of her mouth as if it were his own, how he's not afraid to challenge her for that control while simultaneously submitting to her.
it's the first time he's said her name, the first time she can put that lilt of an accent twined together with an equally intoxicating tone and she wants nothing more than to hear it again. it sobers her, tears her from that kitten-like mentality and layers a sincerity she hadn't expected in it's place, like an intimacy begging to let itself be shown if they weren't so collectively stubborn. he leaves her mouth all the more blushed as lips part, messy and interrupted, a bit of that tenderness slipping— ) That's good, baby-
( an admission that breaks to a pretty little whine, mouths stumbling together but not quite taking, too distracted by the way she winds her waist up to meet him now with each thrust, shivers at the way abdomens brush, slipping free hand up from that bed to ravel at the nape of his neck. she wants to keep him there, just there, nose to nose, swallowing each other's sounds and chasing each other's pace faster. )
( it's intense, the way she holds him right there, half-moons of her nails just barely pressing into tanned skin at the back of his neck, nose to nose, lips a breath away from one another, rene's dark gaze staring into hers like he'd rather not look at anything else ever again.
his breathing is shallow, heartbeat pounding in his ears as his hips thrust into her, picking up speed, 'cause damn, he just can't help himself when she feels this good, when she moans against his lips and calls him baby and tells him how good he's doing. he likes hearing her like that, voice thick with lust, words that seem to leave her of their own volition.
before he knows it, isabelle is grinding against him, finding that sweet, sweet rhythm of his hips and matches him move for move. that's enough to really make him moan, burying it in another messy kiss, greedy in the way his lips capture hers, the way his hips rock relentlessly against hers, the twisting of desire beneath his navel knotting so tightly he doesn't know how much longer he can take it. )
I'm real fucking close, ( rene breathes, chin tipped upwards so he can try to slow down how fucking lost in her he is, head practically spinning and coherent thought all but vanished. ) You tell me what you need to get there, baby girl, yeah? ( it feels like his words slip out in a jumble, but he's desperate to know, wants her to cling to him and her walls to tighten around him even more, wants her thighs to shake around him and her cry to carry through this whole damn apartment. )
( she can feel it behind the desperation of his hips, the way he starts rocking into her more with fervor than precision, breaths left messily against one another's mouths, and somehow he finds the means of catching one enough to rope her into another searing kiss. it momentarily allows her attention to share not only the way it feels to have him fucking into her, but to revel in the way his mouth tastes alongside it, how it sweetens to the rumbled sound of a groan he hides between her brims.
nails only furl tighter at the nape of his neck, a restless knead to convey what he's stirring within her that not even words, not even moans could—and just as so her opposite hand begins to mirror that clutch, breathily dropping from his arm to quickly find purchase at his side, grazing along to his back just above where calves keep him hitched to her. he steels a moment to himself, letting the senses better equipped to handle her, the way he feels with eyes closed and head craned, giving her the opportune and open canvas of his throat to decorate as she pleases.
she can't help herself, the way she ducks into the crook of his neck, relieves a pierced whimper against his pulse point as she stumbles to stay still enough in order to capture it, suckle a reddened, bruise-like hue to the surface. he asks her what she needs, asks her for her guidance and she's desperately trying to gather herself enough to tell him, show him, so instead she locks hips in a raise at an angle that causes him to brush against the swollen bed of her clit each time he drives forward into her, effect immediately pulling far less shy of a moan from her ribs. ) Just don't stop, cari.
( words are swallowed by a whine, blushed lips dragging across his ear, and it's all she can do to cling to him. try to keep herself grounded to feel the full impact of every collision of hips, every needy chase that grows all the more ragged as those threads that keep them together begin to maddeningly dwindle. a gasp, a testament to how closely she follows behind: ) Don't stop.
( don't stop, isabelle practically begs him, her words whined through sharp gasps and unrestrained moans that carry through the air, intermingle with his own ragged breaths tinged with low groans and the sounds of his hips colliding with her thighs.
don't stop, as if rene could ever be capable of anything else in this moment, thrusting unrelentingly in and out of her, fingers curling tighter into her hair, the sheets as though that may steady himself, as though it may silence the loud moan that rumbles from his throat beneath her lips which lay claim over his skin. hips lift just so, which seems to do just as much for her as it does for him, cock swallowed up whole by her, hitting just the right spot with each rock of his hips.
sensations heighten and thoughts give way to searing white heat, and with a hard thrust into her, rene comes undone, every nerve in his body alight and teeth catching his lip as eyes squeeze shut, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over his body as he rides it out, slower thrusts that gradually still when he thinks he can't take anymore.
there's a shitload of adrenaline in his veins still, a shaky breath exhaled as his eyes blink open, half-lidded as he gazes down at her for a moment, kind of incredulous even as his whole body practically buzzes from the rush of everything. words? feel difficult. but maybe he can try. )
Dios, ( is all that comes out in a huff of breath as he climbs off of her, finally kicks off the jeans and briefs impatiently left half on his body, flops onto his back next to her to try catching his breath, to try willing the sheen of sweat covering his body to evaporate as he stares up at the ceiling. )
( she knows she doesn't have to tell him, knows just as well that no matter how badly she wishes she could draw this out every little thread keeping him intact threatened to be the last, and she was just as quickly behind. it wasn't like most men she'd been to bed with, an insatiable draw to everything about them—the growled husk of his tone through that phone, the first time she'd heard need lace his tongue, his figure, his temperament, but she hasn't the mind to grasp it as it's all out on the line. she's too taken by the pressure welling further and further in that bed just beneath her navel, the sound of their body's meeting and bed shaking in accompaniment.
it's those last few jars that unravel her, causes that well of heat in a bundle between her thighs to rapidly bloom and suspend just there in that sweet high—a final, roughened thrust leaving her to shatter right along with him. the moan that rolls through her mirrors the trembling that takes to her figure, the way limbs desperately clutch to his sides, toes curling there and nails treading his scalp, a hushed, whined pronunciation of his name drifting from her lips again, and again, like it's all she can find.
—it's a daze in which he moves off of her, soft, trembling sigh falling from her lips as he slides out of her, inners still making to clasp around the absence of him, and it's a few prolonged moments until she's able to even relatively come down enough to swallow, a grin taking over that presents itself almost giddily. carefully, she's rolling onto her side to face him, finding a lace through his bicep and planting a wide, gentle bite to the round of his shoulder, humming low in her throat, a delighted sound. )
( the sound of isabelle gasping his name over and over and over again plays on a loop in his head, and rene's pretty damn sure he'd be content for it to stay there.
that was — god, that was fucking mindblowing. the whole lead up — the picture (damn, what a good picture), the subsequent messages and promises made, the feeling of hauling her over his shoulder and the sting of his palm against her skin ... that's all something rene's never done before, never really thought of. this has opened up a whole new side of him that — hell, if it plays out like this did tonight, he's on board.
that feeling of desire — no, that feeling of unadulterated need — has rene feeling a little shaken up in a damn good way.
his gaze lazily drifts over to take in that grin of hers, looking a little mischievous over there. the next thing he knows, there are pearly whites digging into his shoulder, enough to give him a small taste of what it'd feel like if she really wanted to bite him. it's enough, too, to earn her a breath of laughter, turning his head to face her with an accusatory eyebrow raised as he asks, ) You trying to pay me back for how sore you're gonna be tomorrow, mamí?
( even that laugh is enough to ripple through her wantonly, a mere flick of his gaze leaving that blush of heat that'd painted her chest through that dizzying end ever present. it isn't often she finds a counterpart that leveled the grounds, that'd toy a remark at her just as surely as her own sat in waiting at the tip of her tongue—she can't find it within herself to indicate even playfully that she hadn't been quite thoroughly pleased, but that tone of his begs a challenge. )
I wouldn't be nearly as gentle.
( a sultry, bubbled up snicker sweetly greets the space between them before she's pressing up to her knees, inner thighs quivering slightly in supporting even her own weight, still flushed from where his hips had repeatedly driven into her. each of her movements carries a feline grace, only now able to feel the fire that he's left behind along each rosy cheek of her ass, sure to still be kissed a rouge tint from the abuse for days to come. but she'd asked for it, and it only spurs her forward to straddle a single knee over to his opposite side, one hand supporting her while the other draws a single fingertip down along the rivulet at the centre of his chest, his abdomen. ) You talk about tomorrow like you're done for the night, papi.
( a faux look of disappointment, chewing at the inner plush of lower rim pointedly before that touch slowly draws back up, dismissing his skin just long enough to reach back and pull that cropped hoodie from her upper half, tossing it above them to fall unceremoniously to the floor. a tilt of her crown, pressing long waves off to spill to the side as she's leaning back over him, allowing chests to brush and lips to trace his jaw, nipping a bit harsher at it's crook where she leaves behind a breath of a murmur: ) I'm not.
( the implication that he was gentle with her might, in any other circumstance, draw forth another bout of laughter. instead, her own sweet laugh rings through the air and she rises to her knees, all but slinks over to him and swings a leg over him like she owns him; rene knows that she's dead serious, that she wouldn't be nearly as gentle. the thought makes his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, as though in anticipation.
hell, she still might have the chance tonight, if she has her way — as evident by the way she all but challenges him to more. he's still recovering from round one, breath still shallow and heart thudding in his chest, and lil mama over here is ready for round two, which is breathtakingly sexy.
it's clear that as much as he knows how to push isabelle's buttons, she's far more well-versed in pushing his than he could've ever anticipated. her fingertip glides over his skin, dips lower with each word that passes her lips, and the small shudder that runs through him is entirely involuntary, muscles of his stomach contracting beneath her touch. dios. every little thing now, after all that, has him feeling oversensitive and needy.
that's to say nothing about how completely intoxicating it is to watch her cast that hoodie aside with one fluid motion, exposing more of her smooth skin to him, black ink dancing over her skin and dipping between the swell of her breasts. she affords him a moment of awe before she presses flush against him, her breath soft against his skin as her lips — until the nip of teeth, enough to stir a groan from low in his throat.
as spent as he is, isabelle brings out something within him that he's not sure he knew existed within himself. it makes him want more, want her. his palms itch to touch her and he reaches to grab her ass, give a little squeeze against marks likely still reddened from his hand. a reminder, maybe, or perhaps just an attempt to reclaim even a tiny bit of control in the midst of how much she's making his goddamn head spin right now. )
Why don't you show me what you got, then, hermosa.
( she isn't naive enough not to recognize that most men couldn't drive straight back into that mentality of need so soon, not without a brief bit of rest or pause between, but she's a tireless girl in every regard. it's been far too long since she's given in to the vice of another's skin, another's taste, and he'd handled her far too intoxicatingly to let him slip from her with only one round to speak on for the night. surely he couldn't of expected she'd give in to sleep so soon, even if a repressed part of her yearned for it.
she was too alert, too alive against him, and it takes an incredible deal of discipline to keep those reigns intact when those large, hot palms of his grope at each creamy round of her ass, a hiss drawn in between her teeth at the sting that still resides and the way it has her wanting all the more. ) You sure you can handle it, cari?
( a sweep of a breath against his ear, giving the slightest, directed swivel of her hips to graze her heat along his shaft with still-slick petals, a tremble raking through her as swollen head of his cock stumbles along her clit, sensitive enough to feel as if her ribs were contracting, shaky exhale ghosting his jaw once more before she's dipping down lower. lips attach themselves to his collar, little space left between each as she crawls lower—affections and nips planted to his chest, the glistening plane of his abdomen, only looking up to him once his hands could no longer reach to hold at her bottom, mouth hovering just beneath his navel.
it isn't as if she's leaving much choice to her question, intent to rouse him again, and she's quite sure she can get him there with a lipstick-rimmed mouth. she needs a bit of time to debate how she wants to take him, after all, so why not treat him in the process? it's her own form of gratitude, the way a single hand finds his base to sturdily wrap around, delicate enough not to overstimulate. next kiss is delivered with a tilt of her head, a spill of hair, right along the length of his cock—letting him feel the warmth of her breath ravel around it, prodding for a response: ) Hm?
( each languid movement draws a reaction from rene, whether he likes it or not. and — dios, does he like this, like everything about her. he dwells a fine line between utterly spent and riding on his lingering adrenaline rush, tries desperately to favor one or the other.
isabelle makes it impossible for him not to give into that need for more, that need to chase the leftover energy that still buzzes through him, ever-present. it's impossible when her hips grind over him just so, and he can feel how hot, how wet she still is, pressing needily over his length, makes his grip on her tighten, eyelids shut as the overwhelming feel of her and her breath, hot in his ear, take over.
eyes closed, it takes all of rene's effort to attempt steadying his breathing, chest rising and falling quickly beneath her lips, beneath bruising kisses that graze lower, over his ribcage, make his stomach jump again involuntarily. he's aware of her question, her challenge — even opens his mouth to try answering, but he ends up wetting his lips instead, suppressing a low groan as he feels her tongue graze against his skin through a kiss above his navel. his head spins, thoughts an incoherent blend of languages and phrases that'd earn him a slap across the face from his mama if she ever heard.
the pause in contact that follows is enough to make him blink his eyes open again, eyelids heavily, peering down at her as though in a daze; his hands, having followed the trail of her skin as far as he could, have nowhere but the sheets below to hold, the other hand finding at his ribcage. ruby lips linger dangerously close to his thighs, so close to his cock he can feel her breath hot against him as she exhales. his gaze meets hers for only a moment before she curls her fingers around him, lips pressing a kiss to his swollen head, and rene can't — cannot — look away, enraptured by the sight of it.
that damn lipstick —
a groan, low and heady, leaves him at the sound of her voice, the mere thought of his cock disappearing past reddened, kiss-swollen lips is nearly enough to make his cock stir, let alone the sensation of her kiss. another swipe of his tongue over his lips, another hard swallow, and he manages, voice roughened and scratchy, ) Ain't nothing I can't handle.
( she doesn't miss even the slightest of reactions she elicits from him; the way scarred-over hands furl themselves in her sheets, leave another tousle behind that'll hold them til morning, leave a map of their night behind come morning when ( she expects ) he drifts from that mattress, when she's left with no more than a ghost of memories and rippling, wanton aches along her figure. the way he looks at her, awe and perhaps even a bit of hesitancy, aware that his body undoubtedly thrummed from the orgasm that'd wrung through them no more than a few moments prior.
it's why she's gentle, why she doesn't immediately wrap her lips around him and take him into that hot cave of her mouth, why she draws it out, ensures he'll feel nothing but relief the moment she does give in, rather than discomfort. she's at least sincere, despite her tenacity, that leonine way in which she goes about getting what it is she wants.
it's nowhere near as enjoyable if he doesn't want it just as badly, but with the way his cock twitches within her grasp, the way his stomach and ribs cave and jump to her tiny affections. he still raises his voice up to her with that bravado faintly in tact, hinting with a fracture just present enough for her to pick up on, teeth baring in a grin that could almost be deemed counteractive given how close to his length they are, but she remains delicate. almost impossibly so, swiping her thumb over his tip to smear the pre that'd drizzled there down along the upper of his shaft, running lips and tongue in unison down along the rest to slick it just enough for a first, smooth stroke of her fist.
even she exhales with it, finds lashes giving a lazed flutter that lasts a second or two, how her own thighs already give a clench together to deliver a bit of friction to her core, ridden with mini contractions that mimic her pulse rate. it's painfully clear she wasn't doing this just to please him, that there's a hunger all the same that she's doing this for herself in the flare of her eyes.
unoccupied hand grazes it's nails against the lower of his abdomen, and she moans sweetly the moment she dips back up to make a show of curling her tongue around his head, tasting herself and him, before lips close around and suck with a quiet pop as cheeks hollow, curling her fist as it works back up to join with the ring of her mouth. the next time it glides down against him, her lips are right behind. )
( that curve of her lips, the flash of her teeth in a grin that's so utterly pleased with herself, with the state that she's left him in, would be enough to get him riled up on a normal night. but this isn't a normal night, passed that point the moment that notification popped up on his phone screen.
he can't do what he'd normally do in that situation and turn the tables right back on her, wipe that smirky grin off of her face with a move to flip her beneath him instead, with his fingers inside of her, with a tongue on her swollen clit. he'd had his moment of sheer control earlier, let his sheer instincts loose on her, palm against bare skin, and now it seems as though isabelle has decided to have her turn, make it so he writhes beneath her mouth just as she had squirmed on top of his lap.
she's succeeding, that much is for sure. there's already precome leaking from his head before he can even realize what's happening, slicked down along his shaft by velvet lips, the flat of her tongue, a tantalizing taste of what's to come. ) God damn, baby, ( comes his groan, chin tipped back and his hips flexing as her curled fist strokes him at long last.
every nerve ending in rene's body is alight, oversensitive almost to a fault, but he doesn't care — he wants, needs more. a hand reaches forward, fingers carding through her hair and against her scalp, grip tightening as her own nails graze beneath his navel. half-lidded eyes peer down as her, tug messy hair out of his line of vision, so he can watch the way her tongue languishes around his width, savors the taste for a moment until she decides to indulge him at long last; her mouth's warm and hot, hollowed cheeks concaving against the head of his cock as her palm strokes upwards and —
she takes his length fully, leans her head down so those ruby lips can chase the curl of her fingers as she sinks down over him, a moan carried past his lips. isabelle feels so fucking good, is so good at this, it's unreal — he can't help but let out the steady stream of words flow out of him, feeling kinda nonsensical: ) Mamí — Isabelle — dios, baby, you feel so fucking good — Me estás volviendo loco —
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Date: 2017-10-03 03:15 am (UTC)so even when his tongue rolls so fluently to prep that single, resounding smack to her ass, she can't help the way lids fall closed to relish in the white heat that rolls over her, the sound that blossoms from the heart of her throat, causing lips to break apart into a gratified sigh. )
Mmh—
( a drawn hiss through her teeth, brows giving the tiniest furrow before gaze opens ablaze once more to study his features, written over predatorily. it's only once that sharp sting begins to slowly, slowly dissipate in favor of that now-caressing palm that she dares speak up again, voice carrying a hint of strain. it's clear that he's gotten to her, perhaps edged away a fraction of the resilience flaunted when he'd walked in that door, but she was never an easy catch. he wouldn't be here if she was. ) You don't like me being bad, papi?
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Date: 2017-10-03 03:31 am (UTC)'Cause I know how bad you want this — ( another spank, firm as the last, but against her other cheek, the sting of it seeming to course right through him. the way she flinches when he does it, her whole body squirming against his lap, makes how bad he fucking wants her hard to ignore.
rene, for once in his life, doesn't wanna rush this, though, despite every fiber of his being practically screaming at him to drop her against the bed, bury himself between her thighs. no, no, he has to sate himself another way; another spank, because apparently he's feeling generous, and without warning, his fingers delve between those thighs, brush rough against lace that's warm, practically soaked with her sheer need for him. it elicits a groan from him, not bothering to try hiding it. god, she is so fucking hot.
his fingers curl around that thin piece of lace, his hand sliding back upwards and pulling her panties taut against her, bunched fabric tight between those beautiful cheeks, to give her the sensation of it and greedily, to expose more of her skin to him; he'll remove them when he's good and ready, or else he's a goner. ) Dios, mami. You're something else.
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Date: 2017-10-03 04:18 pm (UTC)this time when a hit lands to her bottom, there's a hitch of a breath inward, held at the roof of her mouth with a press of tongue, finally letting lids fall closed to a heavenward roll. he's precise with every slap, how he tucks two digits beneath that laced layer to pull taut against the bundle of her clit, graze against the heat of her, and she can't help but to rock herself into it. it wasn't usual for her to have a man strut into her home, toss her over their shoulder and have her over their knee in so short a span of time, but there's a devilish temptation that comes with him, cruel to resist, and she doesn't want to anymore.
she's been good long enough; cadelle could serve as some sort of the reprieve she needed. teeth drain that vixen-red color from her lips as they snatch down, hair a thick spill of waves along one side of her neck, palms keeping her in place causing fabric of that cropped hoodie to rise, plentiful breasts brushing against her comforter. ) You look like you could use a little attention.
( a suggestive clip, reaching a single hand between them to deftly make work of his jeans' fastening, arch of her spine accentuating all the further to give herself proper room to do so. her bottom already boasts a rosy hue— while she can give him some bite of control, it wasn't in the lightwood way not to find some sort of means to get ahead. rounded tip of nails trails beneath his navel, giving a snap to his briefs. ) What it is you want, hermoso?
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Date: 2017-10-03 05:06 pm (UTC)he wants her so bad that it hurts, cock aching with desire as it presses against the confines of his jeans, and he knows that izzy knows it; she'd virtually had him to this point before he'd pulled the hoodie over his head and stormed outside, switching from hastily typed words to a breathy voice in his ear.
she knows. it's why her hand dares to slip between their bodies, graze over his thigh until it can undo the button of his jeans, tug the zipper down to reveal the waistband of his briefs, taught against carved hip bones. the drag of fingernails beneath his navel makes him groan, his own hand giving her ass a squeeze as though it's the only thing he could possibly hold onto in this moment to steady himself.
he's surprised he can hear her question over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the sting of the waistband snapping against his skin. ) I want to be inside of you, ( comes his low reply through gritted teeth. with a steadying breath, his eyes blink open, gaze dark as it takes in the sight of her over his knee, the peek of rounded breasts beneath her cropped hoodie, the arch of her back, the lingering swell of red over her curved bottom. he feels as though he may burst, too much pent up inside of him. ) Do you think you deserve that, baby girl? ( another spank, this one no lighter, followed by a matching one to the other cheek, before his palm smooths over her skin again, massages slow and deep. another comment that sounds like a challenge, a dare: ) You tell me, since you're so damn mouthy.
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Date: 2017-10-03 06:28 pm (UTC)his admission rewards him with a breath of a mew, startled to a gasp as his palm strikes her again, one to each cheek—shoulder blades pinch together, crown tipping back to leave locks spilling over her spine, stolen for the moment at that heated lick of pain that runs through her. she’ll be sore tomorrow, there’s no denying it, and while she has an easy means of healing the abused area over, she just might enjoy feeling him every time she sits, like a lingering punishment. )
Someone deserves a reward for this, no? ( a huff of a reply while she gathers a steadier tone, unable to keep herself still against him, to keep from pressing against that pull of fabric, chasing any means of friction she can find whether she’s given body permission or not. a moan laces it’s way through pressed lips, left in a slight part. she’s not shy to drag the heart of her palm down further along his briefs, rubbing its heel along the line of him, thick and hard and all because of her. ) But I don’t think it matters. ‘Cause you need it.
( a daring grab of his cock through that cotton, dampened near the swell of his tip. ) Don’t you, cari?
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Date: 2017-10-03 07:23 pm (UTC)if he were, perhaps he'd wrap his free hand around her wrist, snatch it away and pin it against the bed, really give her a spanking for touching him without permission, for trying to take matters into her own hands when he's clearly the one in charge here. he'd bark some equally mouthy retort
his self-control levels are certainly not at an expert level. instead, he can only let out a sharp breath, tip his head back and let deft fingers curl around him, an agonizing layer of cotton between them, his cock twitching in response to her touch, precome leaking from the head. teeth catch his lower lip, suppress a moan, a desperate plea for more as though he's not the one in charge here.
— wait, but he is. rene's response isn't verbal, is merely the meeting of his sharp gaze with hers. fuck it.
there isn't a shred of gentleness with how he practically manhandles her yet again, scoops her up and drops her onto her back on the bed. nails drag against the soft skin at her hips as he yanks those dampened panties off of her, tossed to the floor somewhere, and he doesn't even have the patience to do anything more than gruffly pull his jeans and briefs down over his ass, crawl over her and guide his cock inside of her and it's —
fuck, she's so good, so wet because of him, warm and tight as she accommodates him, his hipbones pressed against her as she fully takes him, a moaned out, ) Fuck, mami —
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Date: 2017-10-03 10:12 pm (UTC)there wasn't anything between them that demanded they take their time, play up any set of morals or boundaries of respect—she'd been clear on her intentions upon her invitation, and so there isn't any guilt. any shame to the way she hastily makes purchase with nails at the lower of his back, slipping beneath the thick cotton of his own hoodie to clasp onto him as he grabs the base of his cock and aligns himself, fills and stretches her with a single, full stroke. )
Se siente rico— ( natural tongue finds her, words stumbling from her lips in a rushed pant, velveteen walls giving a gratified clasp around his width, trying desperately to adjust. a swallowed back whimper, giving him no choice but to aid her in tugging that upper layer of his up and off of his frame, revealing an array of scars amidst ridges of definition, marveling both of her palms appreciatively along each plane of his chest. another time she'd map them with her lips, a trace of fingertips, right now all she can think about is the way she practically pulses around him, finding his eyes in the dark of that bedroom with a kindred hunger.
thick, creamy canvas of her thighs find each side of him, using her calve against his bottom to give a last little pull of his hips, assuring he's jarred into her as far as possible. )
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Date: 2017-10-04 03:08 am (UTC)his eyes practically roll into the back of his head with pleasure as she takes him to the hilt, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment while he just savors this feeling, this oh-so-prevalent feeling of satisfaction.
her voice is music to his ears, spilling past reddened lips, and his senses are far too overloaded to fight the tug of his sweatshirt over his head, left hanging somewhere on the edge of the bed — a godsend, considering the sheen of sweat coating his skin once it's gone. rene will do the same in time, surely, but for now, there are other matters at hand, pressing in a way that renders everything else unimportant.
slowly, slowly, rene arcs his hips backwards, cock sliding with ease from within her until only the head remains, and then he grinds back into her, fingers curling into the sheets on either side of isabelle's head. it's an agonizingly slow pace that he's setting, but he knows that it won't last long with how tight she is around him, how far she's driven him with her words and very little touch.
his face remains just above, lips a breath away from hers — hell, he can feel each and every pant that passes her lips, can practically taste the sound of her whimper — and he murmurs, voice strained, ) Tú bien, cariña?
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Date: 2017-10-04 10:11 pm (UTC)Si, papi— ( breathless- there's some part of her, dazed and distant that processes his words, eventually finds a means of putting thought to tongue and tongue to words when it can barely wrap itself around a breath that isn't ragged, too caught up in how good it felt—the way he stretches her out, how fluently he grinds his hips to hers to ensure he hits right to that sensitive spot at her limits, giving in to something she's needed for far too long.
one hand's raveled itself agains his forearm just beside her, some means to ground herself, a thin layer of sweat like dew left sheen across her temples, and when wide eyes flutter open again they're fixed to his, studying the way pleasure twitches at his mouth, lids at half mast.
crown tips in order to grab at his fuller lip, suck it gently between the plush of her own brims before giving him a taste of teeth, sharp and sweet in the bite that's left behind, and once more that competitive glint arises. ) More.
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Date: 2017-10-04 11:55 pm (UTC)it's now that he realizes that he hasn't just straight up kissed her yet, and that shit ain't gonna fly. no, his lips crash hard against hers, a little messy, definitely a little dirty, tongue licking into her mouth as his lips part against hers.
this doesn't deter the movement of his hips, grinding hard into her, burying his cock deep as he picks up his pace — more, all for her, the girl who has pushed him further than anyone ever has, and even still, he finds himself craving more.
rene leans his weight against her, skin against skin, a low moan against her painted lips as he hits just the right spot, dios — and he can't help the way his fingers, grabbing at the sheets below, catch some of her hair as they curl inward, tug as he tries to steady himself as he fucks her. ) Isabelle, ( he groans — there's no izzy, no mamí or other terms of endearment, just each syllable of her name carried past his lips like a prayer. )
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Date: 2017-10-05 12:48 am (UTC)she doesn't have the discipline to keep from wanting him, needing him, hollow of her throat exposed as his fingers tangle within her locks just as they do those sheets, a flare of soft pain amidst the bundle of heat he coils beneath her navel each time he fucks into her. and he doesn't shy from giving her exactly what she'd asked for—mierda the way he rolls his hips to hers, licks into the cave of her mouth as if it were his own, how he's not afraid to challenge her for that control while simultaneously submitting to her.
it's the first time he's said her name, the first time she can put that lilt of an accent twined together with an equally intoxicating tone and she wants nothing more than to hear it again. it sobers her, tears her from that kitten-like mentality and layers a sincerity she hadn't expected in it's place, like an intimacy begging to let itself be shown if they weren't so collectively stubborn. he leaves her mouth all the more blushed as lips part, messy and interrupted, a bit of that tenderness slipping— ) That's good, baby-
( an admission that breaks to a pretty little whine, mouths stumbling together but not quite taking, too distracted by the way she winds her waist up to meet him now with each thrust, shivers at the way abdomens brush, slipping free hand up from that bed to ravel at the nape of his neck. she wants to keep him there, just there, nose to nose, swallowing each other's sounds and chasing each other's pace faster. )
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Date: 2017-10-07 01:30 am (UTC)his breathing is shallow, heartbeat pounding in his ears as his hips thrust into her, picking up speed, 'cause damn, he just can't help himself when she feels this good, when she moans against his lips and calls him baby and tells him how good he's doing. he likes hearing her like that, voice thick with lust, words that seem to leave her of their own volition.
before he knows it, isabelle is grinding against him, finding that sweet, sweet rhythm of his hips and matches him move for move. that's enough to really make him moan, burying it in another messy kiss, greedy in the way his lips capture hers, the way his hips rock relentlessly against hers, the twisting of desire beneath his navel knotting so tightly he doesn't know how much longer he can take it. )
I'm real fucking close, ( rene breathes, chin tipped upwards so he can try to slow down how fucking lost in her he is, head practically spinning and coherent thought all but vanished. ) You tell me what you need to get there, baby girl, yeah? ( it feels like his words slip out in a jumble, but he's desperate to know, wants her to cling to him and her walls to tighten around him even more, wants her thighs to shake around him and her cry to carry through this whole damn apartment. )
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Date: 2017-10-07 04:56 pm (UTC)nails only furl tighter at the nape of his neck, a restless knead to convey what he's stirring within her that not even words, not even moans could—and just as so her opposite hand begins to mirror that clutch, breathily dropping from his arm to quickly find purchase at his side, grazing along to his back just above where calves keep him hitched to her. he steels a moment to himself, letting the senses better equipped to handle her, the way he feels with eyes closed and head craned, giving her the opportune and open canvas of his throat to decorate as she pleases.
she can't help herself, the way she ducks into the crook of his neck, relieves a pierced whimper against his pulse point as she stumbles to stay still enough in order to capture it, suckle a reddened, bruise-like hue to the surface. he asks her what she needs, asks her for her guidance and she's desperately trying to gather herself enough to tell him, show him, so instead she locks hips in a raise at an angle that causes him to brush against the swollen bed of her clit each time he drives forward into her, effect immediately pulling far less shy of a moan from her ribs. ) Just don't stop, cari.
( words are swallowed by a whine, blushed lips dragging across his ear, and it's all she can do to cling to him. try to keep herself grounded to feel the full impact of every collision of hips, every needy chase that grows all the more ragged as those threads that keep them together begin to maddeningly dwindle. a gasp, a testament to how closely she follows behind: ) Don't stop.
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Date: 2017-10-18 05:08 pm (UTC)don't stop, as if rene could ever be capable of anything else in this moment, thrusting unrelentingly in and out of her, fingers curling tighter into her hair, the sheets as though that may steady himself, as though it may silence the loud moan that rumbles from his throat beneath her lips which lay claim over his skin. hips lift just so, which seems to do just as much for her as it does for him, cock swallowed up whole by her, hitting just the right spot with each rock of his hips.
sensations heighten and thoughts give way to searing white heat, and with a hard thrust into her, rene comes undone, every nerve in his body alight and teeth catching his lip as eyes squeeze shut, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over his body as he rides it out, slower thrusts that gradually still when he thinks he can't take anymore.
there's a shitload of adrenaline in his veins still, a shaky breath exhaled as his eyes blink open, half-lidded as he gazes down at her for a moment, kind of incredulous even as his whole body practically buzzes from the rush of everything. words? feel difficult. but maybe he can try. )
Dios, ( is all that comes out in a huff of breath as he climbs off of her, finally kicks off the jeans and briefs impatiently left half on his body, flops onto his back next to her to try catching his breath, to try willing the sheen of sweat covering his body to evaporate as he stares up at the ceiling. )
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Date: 2017-10-18 10:02 pm (UTC)it's those last few jars that unravel her, causes that well of heat in a bundle between her thighs to rapidly bloom and suspend just there in that sweet high—a final, roughened thrust leaving her to shatter right along with him. the moan that rolls through her mirrors the trembling that takes to her figure, the way limbs desperately clutch to his sides, toes curling there and nails treading his scalp, a hushed, whined pronunciation of his name drifting from her lips again, and again, like it's all she can find.
—it's a daze in which he moves off of her, soft, trembling sigh falling from her lips as he slides out of her, inners still making to clasp around the absence of him, and it's a few prolonged moments until she's able to even relatively come down enough to swallow, a grin taking over that presents itself almost giddily. carefully, she's rolling onto her side to face him, finding a lace through his bicep and planting a wide, gentle bite to the round of his shoulder, humming low in her throat, a delighted sound. )
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Date: 2017-10-18 10:42 pm (UTC)that was — god, that was fucking mindblowing. the whole lead up — the picture (damn, what a good picture), the subsequent messages and promises made, the feeling of hauling her over his shoulder and the sting of his palm against her skin ... that's all something rene's never done before, never really thought of. this has opened up a whole new side of him that — hell, if it plays out like this did tonight, he's on board.
that feeling of desire — no, that feeling of unadulterated need — has rene feeling a little shaken up in a damn good way.
his gaze lazily drifts over to take in that grin of hers, looking a little mischievous over there. the next thing he knows, there are pearly whites digging into his shoulder, enough to give him a small taste of what it'd feel like if she really wanted to bite him. it's enough, too, to earn her a breath of laughter, turning his head to face her with an accusatory eyebrow raised as he asks, ) You trying to pay me back for how sore you're gonna be tomorrow, mamí?
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Date: 2017-10-18 11:06 pm (UTC)I wouldn't be nearly as gentle.
( a sultry, bubbled up snicker sweetly greets the space between them before she's pressing up to her knees, inner thighs quivering slightly in supporting even her own weight, still flushed from where his hips had repeatedly driven into her. each of her movements carries a feline grace, only now able to feel the fire that he's left behind along each rosy cheek of her ass, sure to still be kissed a rouge tint from the abuse for days to come. but she'd asked for it, and it only spurs her forward to straddle a single knee over to his opposite side, one hand supporting her while the other draws a single fingertip down along the rivulet at the centre of his chest, his abdomen. ) You talk about tomorrow like you're done for the night, papi.
( a faux look of disappointment, chewing at the inner plush of lower rim pointedly before that touch slowly draws back up, dismissing his skin just long enough to reach back and pull that cropped hoodie from her upper half, tossing it above them to fall unceremoniously to the floor. a tilt of her crown, pressing long waves off to spill to the side as she's leaning back over him, allowing chests to brush and lips to trace his jaw, nipping a bit harsher at it's crook where she leaves behind a breath of a murmur: ) I'm not.
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Date: 2017-10-19 01:21 am (UTC)hell, she still might have the chance tonight, if she has her way — as evident by the way she all but challenges him to more. he's still recovering from round one, breath still shallow and heart thudding in his chest, and lil mama over here is ready for round two, which is breathtakingly sexy.
it's clear that as much as he knows how to push isabelle's buttons, she's far more well-versed in pushing his than he could've ever anticipated. her fingertip glides over his skin, dips lower with each word that passes her lips, and the small shudder that runs through him is entirely involuntary, muscles of his stomach contracting beneath her touch. dios. every little thing now, after all that, has him feeling oversensitive and needy.
that's to say nothing about how completely intoxicating it is to watch her cast that hoodie aside with one fluid motion, exposing more of her smooth skin to him, black ink dancing over her skin and dipping between the swell of her breasts. she affords him a moment of awe before she presses flush against him, her breath soft against his skin as her lips — until the nip of teeth, enough to stir a groan from low in his throat.
as spent as he is, isabelle brings out something within him that he's not sure he knew existed within himself. it makes him want more, want her. his palms itch to touch her and he reaches to grab her ass, give a little squeeze against marks likely still reddened from his hand. a reminder, maybe, or perhaps just an attempt to reclaim even a tiny bit of control in the midst of how much she's making his goddamn head spin right now. )
Why don't you show me what you got, then, hermosa.
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Date: 2017-10-21 03:30 pm (UTC)she was too alert, too alive against him, and it takes an incredible deal of discipline to keep those reigns intact when those large, hot palms of his grope at each creamy round of her ass, a hiss drawn in between her teeth at the sting that still resides and the way it has her wanting all the more. ) You sure you can handle it, cari?
( a sweep of a breath against his ear, giving the slightest, directed swivel of her hips to graze her heat along his shaft with still-slick petals, a tremble raking through her as swollen head of his cock stumbles along her clit, sensitive enough to feel as if her ribs were contracting, shaky exhale ghosting his jaw once more before she's dipping down lower. lips attach themselves to his collar, little space left between each as she crawls lower—affections and nips planted to his chest, the glistening plane of his abdomen, only looking up to him once his hands could no longer reach to hold at her bottom, mouth hovering just beneath his navel.
it isn't as if she's leaving much choice to her question, intent to rouse him again, and she's quite sure she can get him there with a lipstick-rimmed mouth. she needs a bit of time to debate how she wants to take him, after all, so why not treat him in the process? it's her own form of gratitude, the way a single hand finds his base to sturdily wrap around, delicate enough not to overstimulate. next kiss is delivered with a tilt of her head, a spill of hair, right along the length of his cock—letting him feel the warmth of her breath ravel around it, prodding for a response: ) Hm?
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Date: 2017-10-27 03:00 am (UTC)isabelle makes it impossible for him not to give into that need for more, that need to chase the leftover energy that still buzzes through him, ever-present. it's impossible when her hips grind over him just so, and he can feel how hot, how wet she still is, pressing needily over his length, makes his grip on her tighten, eyelids shut as the overwhelming feel of her and her breath, hot in his ear, take over.
eyes closed, it takes all of rene's effort to attempt steadying his breathing, chest rising and falling quickly beneath her lips, beneath bruising kisses that graze lower, over his ribcage, make his stomach jump again involuntarily. he's aware of her question, her challenge — even opens his mouth to try answering, but he ends up wetting his lips instead, suppressing a low groan as he feels her tongue graze against his skin through a kiss above his navel. his head spins, thoughts an incoherent blend of languages and phrases that'd earn him a slap across the face from his mama if she ever heard.
the pause in contact that follows is enough to make him blink his eyes open again, eyelids heavily, peering down at her as though in a daze; his hands, having followed the trail of her skin as far as he could, have nowhere but the sheets below to hold, the other hand finding at his ribcage. ruby lips linger dangerously close to his thighs, so close to his cock he can feel her breath hot against him as she exhales. his gaze meets hers for only a moment before she curls her fingers around him, lips pressing a kiss to his swollen head, and rene can't — cannot — look away, enraptured by the sight of it.
that damn lipstick —
a groan, low and heady, leaves him at the sound of her voice, the mere thought of his cock disappearing past reddened, kiss-swollen lips is nearly enough to make his cock stir, let alone the sensation of her kiss. another swipe of his tongue over his lips, another hard swallow, and he manages, voice roughened and scratchy, ) Ain't nothing I can't handle.
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Date: 2017-10-28 09:25 pm (UTC)it's why she's gentle, why she doesn't immediately wrap her lips around him and take him into that hot cave of her mouth, why she draws it out, ensures he'll feel nothing but relief the moment she does give in, rather than discomfort. she's at least sincere, despite her tenacity, that leonine way in which she goes about getting what it is she wants.
it's nowhere near as enjoyable if he doesn't want it just as badly, but with the way his cock twitches within her grasp, the way his stomach and ribs cave and jump to her tiny affections. he still raises his voice up to her with that bravado faintly in tact, hinting with a fracture just present enough for her to pick up on, teeth baring in a grin that could almost be deemed counteractive given how close to his length they are, but she remains delicate. almost impossibly so, swiping her thumb over his tip to smear the pre that'd drizzled there down along the upper of his shaft, running lips and tongue in unison down along the rest to slick it just enough for a first, smooth stroke of her fist.
even she exhales with it, finds lashes giving a lazed flutter that lasts a second or two, how her own thighs already give a clench together to deliver a bit of friction to her core, ridden with mini contractions that mimic her pulse rate. it's painfully clear she wasn't doing this just to please him, that there's a hunger all the same that she's doing this for herself in the flare of her eyes.
unoccupied hand grazes it's nails against the lower of his abdomen, and she moans sweetly the moment she dips back up to make a show of curling her tongue around his head, tasting herself and him, before lips close around and suck with a quiet pop as cheeks hollow, curling her fist as it works back up to join with the ring of her mouth. the next time it glides down against him, her lips are right behind. )
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Date: 2017-11-14 12:41 am (UTC)he can't do what he'd normally do in that situation and turn the tables right back on her, wipe that smirky grin off of her face with a move to flip her beneath him instead, with his fingers inside of her, with a tongue on her swollen clit. he'd had his moment of sheer control earlier, let his sheer instincts loose on her, palm against bare skin, and now it seems as though isabelle has decided to have her turn, make it so he writhes beneath her mouth just as she had squirmed on top of his lap.
she's succeeding, that much is for sure. there's already precome leaking from his head before he can even realize what's happening, slicked down along his shaft by velvet lips, the flat of her tongue, a tantalizing taste of what's to come. ) God damn, baby, ( comes his groan, chin tipped back and his hips flexing as her curled fist strokes him at long last.
every nerve ending in rene's body is alight, oversensitive almost to a fault, but he doesn't care — he wants, needs more. a hand reaches forward, fingers carding through her hair and against her scalp, grip tightening as her own nails graze beneath his navel. half-lidded eyes peer down as her, tug messy hair out of his line of vision, so he can watch the way her tongue languishes around his width, savors the taste for a moment until she decides to indulge him at long last; her mouth's warm and hot, hollowed cheeks concaving against the head of his cock as her palm strokes upwards and —
she takes his length fully, leans her head down so those ruby lips can chase the curl of her fingers as she sinks down over him, a moan carried past his lips. isabelle feels so fucking good, is so good at this, it's unreal — he can't help but let out the steady stream of words flow out of him, feeling kinda nonsensical: ) Mamí — Isabelle — dios, baby, you feel so fucking good — Me estás volviendo loco —