[ She's a far cry now from the woman who didn't know what she wanted from him, even though her body instinctively did — chin lifting into the possessive squeeze of his grip, muscles tensing in anticipation of that same hand coming down for a hard strike of palm against her already-tenderized ass cheek. Now, she isn't afraid to let the tears fall, knowing how much he likes to see them, knowing that he'll always brush them away, whether with his fingers or his tongue.
She doesn't know where they're coming from now, whether this is her still mourning or something closer to relief, but she releases a shuddering breath, in the interim, as Ash goes through the motions of setting any distractions aside. The sight of him taking the time to clean the lenses on his glasses makes love swell, strong and powerful, in her chest, and when he takes hold of her wrists, he does it with as much careful deliberation as he'd attended to those smudges caused by her own earnestness. ]
I want — [ Greer swallows, once, around a soft hiccup — the familiarity of this pose, of his hands creating makeshift cuffs around her wrists, grounds her to the moment itself, rather than allowing her thoughts to stray too far outside this and them, and when she manages to speak again, it's steadier, more certain. ]
I want you to make me ache. Make me hurt. Sir. [ Her telltale arch into that suction, the teasing pressure of his bite, should be another clue — she wants her nipples red, and tender, and sore, by the time he's through with her, but she'll also be soaked for his fingers or his cock, if he deigns to give her either. ] And... I want you in my throat. Please.
( he says it, teasing her, but not lacking in affection — anyone else would be demanding when given the potential of anything, if they'd be bold enough to say it. only greer would use it to please him, a fact that has him smiling fondly up at her, hands smoothing up her body and sinking under the watery softness of her silk cami, pushing it up her chest and past her extended arms, tossing it over his shoulder once she's free. he likes her naked, and has never made a mystery of that — similarly, his hands finds the waistband of her shorts which he pushes down, past her hips and off her long legs, lost with the rest of it.
he focuses back on her with intention, lifting up her leg long enough to press a kiss on the inside of her knee, before flattening her out, shuffling one leg than the other, until he's straddling her stomach. his fingers trace lazily up the insides of her arms, watching goosebumps pop up on her skin, as fascinating as the rest of her. )
Open your mouth. I want to see your tongue.
( he waits for her to oblige, staring at her for a few intense moments before shifting up, higher on her torso. ash pushes his pants down and lets his erection bob free, hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a few rough strokes, the way she's seen embry do it several times before. )
Remember to snap if you need to safe out.
( a good reminder — but he's more aware of what greer can take now, and moreover what she wants to, what she likes enduring, how she likes being pushed. leaning forward on his knees, he pats the fat underside of his cock on her cheek, before resettling the head on her flat tongue, groaning while he feeds her the rest of it with a slow roll of his hips forward. there's not a lot of buildup — ash likes it when she chokes, when she cries, when she drools from the stretch of his cock nestled in the back of her throat, demanding pleasure. he doesn't hesitate to give a testing thrust, a hand cinching around both of her wrists with a bruising squeeze. she feels like she was made for him — like he was made to use and abuse her, to fuck every hole she has, to own her body and break it apart, just so he can kiss the pieces all back together again. )
[ Being stripped of her clothing is a relief — not because Greer often feels so confined by layers that Ash's gaze seems capable of burning right through, but because she's already warming, flushed with desire for whatever he deems appropriate to give her now. He's always known how to keep her on that knife's edge between denial and satisfaction, winding her up until she's convinced she can't bear anymore and then pushing her boundary further, driving her towards new planes of arousal and the ensuing madness that threatens to overwhelm her completely.
She wants to be here, though, naked and arranged beneath his still-clothed form. He straddles her front, the angle making it seem as though he's looming over her, but is still careful not to crush her chest, or make it difficult for her to breathe. His cock will do plenty of that in short order, and as he shoves the waistband of his pants down, her mouth begins to water; truly, she has an obscene amount of saliva welling up on her tongue at the mere sight of how hard he is, at the idle thought that she could make him swell harder as soon as he settles himself.
There's little reason to speak, little reason to do anything but comply — and as his hand moves over his shaft, her mind can't help but turn to the memories she has, now, of watching Embry do it, watching his hand roughly move over Ash's cock, watching Ash's head tip back, tendons in his neck visible with the pain of it, with the pleasure. Greer obediently opens her mouth, sticks out her tongue; in her mind, Embry's here too, watching them, waiting for permission to run his fingertips along her newly-bared inner thigh. ]
Yes, sir.
[ An assurance, but also a promise — a vow, all on its own, for what they have, what she foolishly hadn't known of before. Ash doesn't wait, doesn't make her wait, but instinctively, she lifts her chin, does her best to relax her throat. He makes her gag anyway, feeding his cock toward her throat before she's fully ready to receive him. His hands feel like irons, branding around her wrists, keeping her held fast, even while the rest of her arches beneath him, thighs gently squeezing together behind his kneeling straddle. It might seem like she's struggling, but in truth, she's exactly where she so often longs to be, serving as a vessel for his pleasure, needing nothing more than to sate him, absorbing every single one of his groans as she coughs, splutters again, tears pinpricking at the corners of her gaze while she fights to keep her eyes open, to keep her attention locked on his handsome features. ]
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no subject
She doesn't know where they're coming from now, whether this is her still mourning or something closer to relief, but she releases a shuddering breath, in the interim, as Ash goes through the motions of setting any distractions aside. The sight of him taking the time to clean the lenses on his glasses makes love swell, strong and powerful, in her chest, and when he takes hold of her wrists, he does it with as much careful deliberation as he'd attended to those smudges caused by her own earnestness. ]
I want — [ Greer swallows, once, around a soft hiccup — the familiarity of this pose, of his hands creating makeshift cuffs around her wrists, grounds her to the moment itself, rather than allowing her thoughts to stray too far outside this and them, and when she manages to speak again, it's steadier, more certain. ]
I want you to make me ache. Make me hurt. Sir. [ Her telltale arch into that suction, the teasing pressure of his bite, should be another clue — she wants her nipples red, and tender, and sore, by the time he's through with her, but she'll also be soaked for his fingers or his cock, if he deigns to give her either. ] And... I want you in my throat. Please.
no subject
( he says it, teasing her, but not lacking in affection — anyone else would be demanding when given the potential of anything, if they'd be bold enough to say it. only greer would use it to please him, a fact that has him smiling fondly up at her, hands smoothing up her body and sinking under the watery softness of her silk cami, pushing it up her chest and past her extended arms, tossing it over his shoulder once she's free. he likes her naked, and has never made a mystery of that — similarly, his hands finds the waistband of her shorts which he pushes down, past her hips and off her long legs, lost with the rest of it.
he focuses back on her with intention, lifting up her leg long enough to press a kiss on the inside of her knee, before flattening her out, shuffling one leg than the other, until he's straddling her stomach. his fingers trace lazily up the insides of her arms, watching goosebumps pop up on her skin, as fascinating as the rest of her. )
Open your mouth. I want to see your tongue.
( he waits for her to oblige, staring at her for a few intense moments before shifting up, higher on her torso. ash pushes his pants down and lets his erection bob free, hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a few rough strokes, the way she's seen embry do it several times before. )
Remember to snap if you need to safe out.
( a good reminder — but he's more aware of what greer can take now, and moreover what she wants to, what she likes enduring, how she likes being pushed. leaning forward on his knees, he pats the fat underside of his cock on her cheek, before resettling the head on her flat tongue, groaning while he feeds her the rest of it with a slow roll of his hips forward. there's not a lot of buildup — ash likes it when she chokes, when she cries, when she drools from the stretch of his cock nestled in the back of her throat, demanding pleasure. he doesn't hesitate to give a testing thrust, a hand cinching around both of her wrists with a bruising squeeze. she feels like she was made for him — like he was made to use and abuse her, to fuck every hole she has, to own her body and break it apart, just so he can kiss the pieces all back together again. )
no subject
She wants to be here, though, naked and arranged beneath his still-clothed form. He straddles her front, the angle making it seem as though he's looming over her, but is still careful not to crush her chest, or make it difficult for her to breathe. His cock will do plenty of that in short order, and as he shoves the waistband of his pants down, her mouth begins to water; truly, she has an obscene amount of saliva welling up on her tongue at the mere sight of how hard he is, at the idle thought that she could make him swell harder as soon as he settles himself.
There's little reason to speak, little reason to do anything but comply — and as his hand moves over his shaft, her mind can't help but turn to the memories she has, now, of watching Embry do it, watching his hand roughly move over Ash's cock, watching Ash's head tip back, tendons in his neck visible with the pain of it, with the pleasure. Greer obediently opens her mouth, sticks out her tongue; in her mind, Embry's here too, watching them, waiting for permission to run his fingertips along her newly-bared inner thigh. ]
Yes, sir.
[ An assurance, but also a promise — a vow, all on its own, for what they have, what she foolishly hadn't known of before. Ash doesn't wait, doesn't make her wait, but instinctively, she lifts her chin, does her best to relax her throat. He makes her gag anyway, feeding his cock toward her throat before she's fully ready to receive him. His hands feel like irons, branding around her wrists, keeping her held fast, even while the rest of her arches beneath him, thighs gently squeezing together behind his kneeling straddle. It might seem like she's struggling, but in truth, she's exactly where she so often longs to be, serving as a vessel for his pleasure, needing nothing more than to sate him, absorbing every single one of his groans as she coughs, splutters again, tears pinpricking at the corners of her gaze while she fights to keep her eyes open, to keep her attention locked on his handsome features. ]