( That sound, it ignites something desperate inside of her, hands leaving the desk to curve around the shape of his biceps. There's something about John that appeals to her, a strength that resides in his bones, a surety of his place. She's never felt like that. Or at least, not until now. Clarice likes what he offers, purpose and meaning all wrapped up in a gorgeous package. It's not just attraction, and that should frighten her, but instead it makes her want him more.
Clarice strains forward, pressing into the space between his feet, her tongue dragging lightly over his bottom lip. It's a question, something hopeful. An I'm here. She wants them to feel equal. )
[ It's like a part of him, a part of him that's always on the defensive and ready to fight, melts away when Clarice presses close to him. For a moment, here and now, he doesn't have to defend or protect or fight anyone, he can just be - himself, the softer side of him that he barely ever gets to show. His thumb brushes her cheekbone, his legs parting a little as he sits heavier on the desk, allowing her even closer, wanting her even closer.
She licks at his lip and he groans again, pushing against her, tongue touching hers, slipping past her lips as his free arm wraps around her waist, but lets go after a second, worried about hurting her.
Sure, they have things to talk about. Sure they do. But first... first John is going to make the very most of this. ]
( Clarice lets herself get lost in the moment, thoughts flying away the minute he parts his lips. Her fingers go from gripping the fabric at his sleeves to pushing up, palm against his throat and her nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. It's different, from the false memory. She can taste him, smell him, feel his muscles shift and his pulse pound. It's so very real and she can't help but feel hungry for more of it.
Clarice has to break away to catch her breath, but she doesn't stop touching him, pushing her touch up beneath the knot of his hair. Her lips find his jaw, drag along the shape of it before she's pressing her forehead against his, strange eyes holding his gaze. )
Tell me this isn't a bad idea.
( They're at war.
But they want each other. She knows that. She can't deny that. )
[ His fingers twist in her shirt at her back, wanting to make her push harder, hold him tighter. There's barely anything he can't take, and he can definitely deal with her nails down his back, or her teeth into his collarbone. He wants it all, he wants to feel her when she's out of the room again.
He tilts his head when she pulls back, allowing her more space before she leans in and he presses her forehead to his, his eyes boring into hers, taking how incredible they are. ]
I'm not sure I can tell you that.
[ Because he's not going to lie to her again. ]
But it doesn't change the fact that I want you. So bad.
( A shiver licks along her spine when he grips the back of her shirt. He can probably feel it where they're pressed together. But it's so little amount of space for such a wealth of longing and she makes a noise in the back of her throat. )
As far as bad ideas go, this isn't the worst I've had.
( She grins, quick and sharp, presses a biting kiss to his lips only to pull back again, the hand not in his hair sweeping down the front of his shirt. )
Also, if you had heard me touching myself, I definitely would have been thinking of you.
[ At her words, John lets out a loud rush of breath, arousal like a punch to the gut, starting in his stomach and traveling up his chest at the speed of light. His mouth opens, and he presses the tip of his tongue to his top lip for a second, eyes moving to the ceiling before settling back on her. ]
I do try to give people their privacy, you know. Are you saying you wanted me to hear you?
[ The thought, is, well. His hand moves, slowly, palm dragging against her clothes, moving down until his fingers catch on the waistband of her jeans. Pressed close as they are, she can't be mistaking the effect her words had on him. ]
But I'll make a note of it. For next time. [ His voice is rough. ]
( She can feel him stirring, her thigh pressed against the seam of his jeans. It's far more tantalising than she'd imagined it to be - and she had, she definitely had, guilty and furtive thoughts trickling into her mind when she least it expected. Clarice is suddenly very aware of just how much she wants him, heat pulsing through her. She wants to touch him, taste him. She wants to do so many things. )
Stay right there.
( It's almost physically painful to pull herself away from his grip, but needs must. Clarice only turns away to check the lock on his office door, turn the blinds. For good measure she wedges a chair under the handle, glancing back with a wicked smile on her lips. )
How strong do you think that desk is?
( If it's not clear what she means, the way she peels her shirt up and over her head might be. )
[ John prides himself in how aware he is of most things, at most times. He is a dedicated leader, a stable friend, in control, even if at times he can be controlling. One of the things he's had to do in his life, as his powers manifested, was learn how to control them, make sure that he knew exactly what kind of pressure to put into a handshake to keep himself from crushing bones. How far he could go with most people. How a heavy step could break tiles underfoot.
Control was something that John was an expert at, for his own survival, but more importantly, other people's. And yet, right now, he feels his control slipping. His carefully nurtured, absolutely essential control is melting off of him like ice in the sun as he looks at Clarice, locking the door and then - taking her shirt off.
John is a lot of things, but he's also just a man. Mutant or not - they all want, and love, and hate in the same way. And right now, John definitely wants. He slides off the desk and takes the few steps separating him and Clarice, sweeping her off her feet with one arm under her, at the same time as he dips his head to brush his lips against the edge of her bra. He wastes no time to turn around, sitting her down on the desk delicately. ]
( He lifts her up like she weighs nothing, like it's easy, like he's the typical hero in a movie and she's the heroine. Clarice makes a noise in the back of her throat, fingers gripping his shoulders, but he's so careful when he sets her down. It's surprisingly a lot. She'd never imagined herself as the kind of girl who'd lose her head for something like this, but there's definitely --.
Something.
A spark of longing, a soft kind of yearning.
It doesn't stop her from scooting back over the desk, from reaching out and tangling his fingers into his shirt, tugging until she can kiss him firmly, knees pressed to his hips. She wants this. In the storm of madness they're living in, she wants to be his comfort. Losing themselves in each other, finding hope where they can. )
That was really, really impressive.
( It's delivered to his lips, Clarice's fingers finding the hem of his shirt before pushing up, desperate to see more of him. )
[ His fingers skim down along her thighs when she sits against him, her legs raised to fit around his hips. He doesn't hesitate to pull back, looking into Clarice's eyes as he raises his arms over his head, his shirt following, soon down on the dusty floor of his office. He's glad to have made the decision to get himself a small space for himself, one with walls and a door instead of just bars.
He leans back into her space once his shirt is off, kissing her a little harder then, hand framing her face as his fingers tangle in one of her bra straps, leaning her down onto the desk. His free arm swipes at the papers on the desk, sending them tumbling down the side, pen clanking to the floor as papers flutter gently. When he pulls back, he brushes his nose against hers. The desk creaks softly when he presses his knee into it.]
( She touches him immediately, hands seeking out his skin so she can run her palms across his shoulders, down his chest, mapping him out with greedy enthusiasm. She's dreamt of this moment, both willingly and otherwise, but it's nothing like feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, nothing compared to scraping her nails lightly across his nipple and hearing him inhale.
He's gorgeous, and Clarice feels like she's already spiralling out of control.
Huffing a laugh when the desk creaks, she presses her lips to his jawline, teasing it with her teeth before kissing her way up to his ear. ) We can always say we were training and the desk was our only victim. ( Clarice presses up against him, encouraging, the denim of their jeans dragging together at the hips. She wants this so much. Which is why her hands go to his belt, tugging it free with impatience. )
Interesting idea of what 'training' entails. [ His reply is thoughtless and breathless - he imagines for a second what would Lorna's reaction to that be. Laughter, probably, knowing looks. John isn't sure he'd mind, really. If there was one person he'd trust to talk about this with, it'd be Lorna, after all.
The thought quickly leaves his mind completely though, when Clarice's small hands go for his belt, making him inhale sharply. There is no turning back, at this point, not that he wants to. One of his own hands drifts down along her front, brushing against her bra-covered breast, a noise of frustration escaping him at the barrier of fabric between them. He's not exactly as delicate as before when he pushes the cup off to the side just to flick his thumb against her nipple, eyes meeting hers, so bright and beautiful.
Her hands make quick work of his belt and jeans button, which allows John to kick them off his legs right away, standing there against his desk, with Clarice splayed on top of it, the two of them looking absolutely disheveled beyond comprehension when John pulls back enough to get his hands on her jeans. ]
( Heat pulses between her thighs when he flicks at her nipple, skin pulling taut with longing. Clarice can barely keep her thoughts straight, not when he's standing there like that. ) I've ruined stranger things with my powers. We could get away with it.
( She pushes herself up onto her elbows while he kicks off his jeans, something hungry about the way she watches. Clarice makes no secrets to where her gaze is, dragging along the shape of his thighs to where his erection is straining in his underwear. His question makes her laugh though, makes her gaze snap up with heat in her eyes. ) You know, I am really, really tempted to say no, because that sounds like every fantasy I've ever had, but I kind of need them.
( Why is she talking this much? Clarice helps as he drags them off her, laughing when they get tangled in her boots. Those go too, kicked across the room with a thunk before she's wrapping her legs around his waist and dragging him closer. Her hands bury in his hair, loosening the haphazard bun he keeps it in, her mouth finding his for a searing kiss. )
[ He gives her a look, because yes, she has - this whole building, almost. It'd been so close, and he'd been so terrified. it's not really a memory he wants to bring up right now, though, so he doesn't say anything.
Especially not when he's got his hands on her, and he's undressing her, and Clarice is kicking her boots across the room, where they land loudly and John can't even find it in himself to care. When she's in her underwear, pressed all against him, he holds her tight, kissing her hard and urgent, any kind of thought that they shouldn't be doing this completely gone from his mind. There is nothing else, right now, but Clarice Fong, her tongue against his lips, her breasts against his chest, and her hands in his hair. Nothing else.
When he pulls away, he's panting, knowing his pupils are blown wide. ]
( Clarice makes a noise at that, something urgent and needy. )
Jesus, no. I definitely don't.
( She probably does, but whatever. She'll go commando for a bit. Maybe she'll make sure he knows it too. Wriggling, she reaches behind herself to unhook her bra from where it's resting against her stomach letting it drop beyond the desk so that she can focus on him. Her hands slide down his back, over the shape of his muscles, fingertips pressing beneath the waistband of his boxers.
Clarice isn't shy about cupping his ass, squeezing her fingers so that their hips rock together. Slowly, she inches the fabric down, still not enough that he's naked, but enough that it's definitely a tease. Her smile drags up the length of his throat, teeth teasing his skin. )
[ He doesn't hesitate for a second once she agrees, his fingers curling into her underwear and pulling, the seams giving way immediately, with barely any effort. If he can carry around cinderblocks around like they weigh nothing, a few cotton stitches are not going to keep him from his end goal. ]
Clarice - [ It's a moan, more than anything else, her name on the tip of his tongue as he drags his fingers down along her front, until they fit between her legs, applying pressure just to make her lose her apparent self-control. It's obvious his is barely there still when he curses. ] - fuck, I want you.
( That was even hotter than she imagined it would be, and if the way she's looking at him through hooded eyes is anything to go by, she is definitely on board. When he touches her, Clarice groans low in her throat, head leaning back for a second as she loses herself in the feeling of finally, finally letting this grow between them. It's far better than her imagination has been able to conjure up.
Clarice swears under her breath, soft and urgent before she's kissing him again, harder this time, her hand now slipping beneath the elastic at the front of his boxers. Lightly, she runs her fingers through the curls against his groin, back and forth, careful even as she pants against his mouth. And then she's taking him in hand, stroking his length firm and slow. A delicious shiver rocks down her spine, thumb pressing against the head where he's already damp. )
I know. ( She can't stop touching him, head spinning with want. ) Jesus, I know.
[ He lips catch against hers when she slips her hand down his underwear, his own fingers losing track and stuttering against her as he tries to breathe, his whole body feeling like it's on fire. He shivers and moans, panting loudly against the corner of her mouth, his hips pushing into her hand without thought nor command, pure instinct. ]
I need to - I want to - [ When words fail him, he slides his fingers down, dipping inside her to the knuckle, like he's asking permission. ] - can I?
[fuck you, he doesn't say, because he's no good with these kind of things and also, it sort of feels like a given. The only real question is, can he do it now, before he comes all over her hand. ]
( There's a moan that follows, feeling on fire just from his fingers inside of her. Freeing her hand and sending his boxers falling to his ankles, Clarice shifts to the edge of the desk, some of the tattered fabric of her underwear still trapped between her. It's the stuff of terrible dirty novels and she doesn't fucking care. Instead she winds her legs around him, the back of her calf urging him towards her. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock is easy, so is taking control, guiding him with her until all he has to do is push inside of her. )
[ He has no idea how he manages not to completely lose it, when she pulls his boxers down and shifts closer, the tip of his cock bumping against his fingers. He moves them out of the way, swallowing around the groan in his throat as he teases for a moment, just a second, and then he's pushing inside her, slow and deep. ]
Clarice -
[ It's a moan more than anything else but it's all he can say as he bottoms out, clenching his jaw and tilting his head back as he presses himself close to her, a hand pushing up into her hair, fingers tangling in with it. He doesn't pull, just - just holds, wanting to keep and feel her close as possible. ]
( Clarice shivers with the feeling of it, a rolling wave of want that shudders through her body, muscles clenching hot and tight when he's filling her up. For a minute she just breathes, hands on his shoulders, his grip in her hair, chin pressed to his shoulder where her breath is warm and quick against his skin.
Her moan is quiet, just a note pitched low enough for him to hear it, lips finding his skin. Clarice rolls her hips then, rocks against him, sparks behind her eyes. It's been a long time, but even then the only reason she wants this quite as much because it's him. )
Come on, it's okay.
( Dragging her lips to his throat, his mouth, pressing her forehead to his. ) You can let go now.
[ He isn't sure he can - not as much as he wants to, anyway, but he appreciates the sentiment all the same. He closes his eyes when she rolls her hips again, fingers clenching her hip a little tighter, sure to leave bruises, his breath coming out short and loud.
He moves, thrusts into her deep and hard, dragging out slowly and doing it again, the desk creaking under her, moving a fraction with each thrust. John drops his forehead to Clarice's shoulder, holding her close like a desperate man, feeling like one, starved for the kind of love Clarice has been wholeheartingly offering him - not just this, but everything else, the comfort, the support, the help, the tenderness.
He moves into her, able to feel her all around him, never wanting to be anywhere but right here, his lips on her skin and his body pressed to hers, choked off groans escaping him every time he pushes in. ]
( It feels like it might consume her, John's hands on her hips, his dick filling her up. All she can hear is his breathing, the slight creak of the wood desk beneath her, all she can smell is the body wash he uses and something else that makes him him. All she can see is the slope of his neck as she buries her face there, arms wrapped around his back, pressed chest to chest. It feels so good and it's overwhelming and terrifying and wonderful. )
Oh.
( Her voice is barely a whisper, she knows they have to be careful. But she can't contain all her noises. What she can do is muffle them, fingers digging in. Clarice moves with every thrust, hungry for the way he presses deep inside her, thighs already slick with arousal. Her knees press into his sides when she shifts, every inch they can touch pressed tight. )
[ If they weren't in HQ right now, if they were somewhere truly private, he might have been loud. He might have given himself the opportunity to curse and tell her how good she feels, because she does, and he wants to scream out her name, over and over. He feels like he's being lit on fire from the inside out, every one of her touch sparking electricity along his skin, making him thrust deeper, wondering if this is what a fever feels like.
He lifts his head with difficulty, one of his hands grabbing the side of her head, rougher than he'd like to be, but the kiss he lays on her is gentle, full of everything he has no idea how to say.
This isn't what he imagined it would be. He imagined that if they were to go there, he would manage to make it romantic, somehow, and this isn't it. This is rushed, urgent, passionate, like the two of them just couldn't keep their hands off of each other for a moment longer. It isn't what he imagined, but it's Clarice.
When he pulls away from the kiss, he presses his forehead to hers, his hair all over his face. ] - Clarice -
( She whimpers quietly into his mouth, shifting to meet every thrust with her hips. It's hard to keep herself under control, but Clarice has had experience with hiding parts of herself away. She just hopes he knows from the look in her eyes and the eager way she clutches him by the shoulders, desperate to keep him close. )
John.
( It's barely a whisper, just a name on her exhale. Clarice bites her bottom lip, the desk creaking slightly between them. The noise of the Base should be enough to cover what sounds they do make. She clutches his hand, squeezing it in her own, lifting her free one to press between the two of them. Her knuckles brush his skin while she strokes her clit, eyes half closed but not all the way. She wants to be able to see him, if she can't see him.
She won't last long, not when they're this frantic. But it's enough to satisfy some of her hunger for him, for his skin. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2018-01-03 07:16 pm (UTC)Clarice strains forward, pressing into the space between his feet, her tongue dragging lightly over his bottom lip. It's a question, something hopeful. An I'm here. She wants them to feel equal. )
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:21 pm (UTC)She licks at his lip and he groans again, pushing against her, tongue touching hers, slipping past her lips as his free arm wraps around her waist, but lets go after a second, worried about hurting her.
Sure, they have things to talk about. Sure they do. But first... first John is going to make the very most of this. ]
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:27 pm (UTC)Clarice has to break away to catch her breath, but she doesn't stop touching him, pushing her touch up beneath the knot of his hair. Her lips find his jaw, drag along the shape of it before she's pressing her forehead against his, strange eyes holding his gaze. )
Tell me this isn't a bad idea.
( They're at war.
But they want each other. She knows that. She can't deny that. )
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:38 pm (UTC)He tilts his head when she pulls back, allowing her more space before she leans in and he presses her forehead to his, his eyes boring into hers, taking how incredible they are. ]
I'm not sure I can tell you that.
[ Because he's not going to lie to her again. ]
But it doesn't change the fact that I want you. So bad.
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Date: 2018-01-04 05:36 pm (UTC)As far as bad ideas go, this isn't the worst I've had.
( She grins, quick and sharp, presses a biting kiss to his lips only to pull back again, the hand not in his hair sweeping down the front of his shirt. )
Also, if you had heard me touching myself, I definitely would have been thinking of you.
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Date: 2018-01-04 06:14 pm (UTC)I do try to give people their privacy, you know. Are you saying you wanted me to hear you?
[ The thought, is, well. His hand moves, slowly, palm dragging against her clothes, moving down until his fingers catch on the waistband of her jeans. Pressed close as they are, she can't be mistaking the effect her words had on him. ]
But I'll make a note of it. For next time. [ His voice is rough. ]
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Date: 2018-01-04 06:41 pm (UTC)Stay right there.
( It's almost physically painful to pull herself away from his grip, but needs must. Clarice only turns away to check the lock on his office door, turn the blinds. For good measure she wedges a chair under the handle, glancing back with a wicked smile on her lips. )
How strong do you think that desk is?
( If it's not clear what she means, the way she peels her shirt up and over her head might be. )
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Date: 2018-01-05 11:32 am (UTC)Control was something that John was an expert at, for his own survival, but more importantly, other people's. And yet, right now, he feels his control slipping. His carefully nurtured, absolutely essential control is melting off of him like ice in the sun as he looks at Clarice, locking the door and then - taking her shirt off.
John is a lot of things, but he's also just a man. Mutant or not - they all want, and love, and hate in the same way. And right now, John definitely wants. He slides off the desk and takes the few steps separating him and Clarice, sweeping her off her feet with one arm under her, at the same time as he dips his head to brush his lips against the edge of her bra. He wastes no time to turn around, sitting her down on the desk delicately. ]
Let's test it out, shall we?
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Date: 2018-01-05 07:22 pm (UTC)Something.
A spark of longing, a soft kind of yearning.
It doesn't stop her from scooting back over the desk, from reaching out and tangling his fingers into his shirt, tugging until she can kiss him firmly, knees pressed to his hips. She wants this. In the storm of madness they're living in, she wants to be his comfort. Losing themselves in each other, finding hope where they can. )
That was really, really impressive.
( It's delivered to his lips, Clarice's fingers finding the hem of his shirt before pushing up, desperate to see more of him. )
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Date: 2018-01-06 09:45 pm (UTC)He leans back into her space once his shirt is off, kissing her a little harder then, hand framing her face as his fingers tangle in one of her bra straps, leaning her down onto the desk. His free arm swipes at the papers on the desk, sending them tumbling down the side, pen clanking to the floor as papers flutter gently. When he pulls back, he brushes his nose against hers. The desk creaks softly when he presses his knee into it.]
So far, so good.
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Date: 2018-01-09 05:54 pm (UTC)He's gorgeous, and Clarice feels like she's already spiralling out of control.
Huffing a laugh when the desk creaks, she presses her lips to his jawline, teasing it with her teeth before kissing her way up to his ear. ) We can always say we were training and the desk was our only victim. ( Clarice presses up against him, encouraging, the denim of their jeans dragging together at the hips. She wants this so much. Which is why her hands go to his belt, tugging it free with impatience. )
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Date: 2018-01-10 01:55 pm (UTC)The thought quickly leaves his mind completely though, when Clarice's small hands go for his belt, making him inhale sharply. There is no turning back, at this point, not that he wants to. One of his own hands drifts down along her front, brushing against her bra-covered breast, a noise of frustration escaping him at the barrier of fabric between them. He's not exactly as delicate as before when he pushes the cup off to the side just to flick his thumb against her nipple, eyes meeting hers, so bright and beautiful.
Her hands make quick work of his belt and jeans button, which allows John to kick them off his legs right away, standing there against his desk, with Clarice splayed on top of it, the two of them looking absolutely disheveled beyond comprehension when John pulls back enough to get his hands on her jeans. ]
I imagine you want to keep these intact?
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Date: 2018-01-17 03:26 pm (UTC)( She pushes herself up onto her elbows while he kicks off his jeans, something hungry about the way she watches. Clarice makes no secrets to where her gaze is, dragging along the shape of his thighs to where his erection is straining in his underwear. His question makes her laugh though, makes her gaze snap up with heat in her eyes. ) You know, I am really, really tempted to say no, because that sounds like every fantasy I've ever had, but I kind of need them.
( Why is she talking this much? Clarice helps as he drags them off her, laughing when they get tangled in her boots. Those go too, kicked across the room with a thunk before she's wrapping her legs around his waist and dragging him closer. Her hands bury in his hair, loosening the haphazard bun he keeps it in, her mouth finding his for a searing kiss. )
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Date: 2018-01-18 03:35 pm (UTC)Especially not when he's got his hands on her, and he's undressing her, and Clarice is kicking her boots across the room, where they land loudly and John can't even find it in himself to care. When she's in her underwear, pressed all against him, he holds her tight, kissing her hard and urgent, any kind of thought that they shouldn't be doing this completely gone from his mind. There is nothing else, right now, but Clarice Fong, her tongue against his lips, her breasts against his chest, and her hands in his hair. Nothing else.
When he pulls away, he's panting, knowing his pupils are blown wide. ]
What about your underwear, then? Need that, too?
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Date: 2018-01-20 07:29 pm (UTC)Jesus, no. I definitely don't.
( She probably does, but whatever. She'll go commando for a bit. Maybe she'll make sure he knows it too. Wriggling, she reaches behind herself to unhook her bra from where it's resting against her stomach letting it drop beyond the desk so that she can focus on him. Her hands slide down his back, over the shape of his muscles, fingertips pressing beneath the waistband of his boxers.
Clarice isn't shy about cupping his ass, squeezing her fingers so that their hips rock together. Slowly, she inches the fabric down, still not enough that he's naked, but enough that it's definitely a tease. Her smile drags up the length of his throat, teeth teasing his skin. )
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Date: 2018-01-20 08:06 pm (UTC)Clarice - [ It's a moan, more than anything else, her name on the tip of his tongue as he drags his fingers down along her front, until they fit between her legs, applying pressure just to make her lose her apparent self-control. It's obvious his is barely there still when he curses. ] - fuck, I want you.
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Date: 2018-01-22 05:22 pm (UTC)Clarice swears under her breath, soft and urgent before she's kissing him again, harder this time, her hand now slipping beneath the elastic at the front of his boxers. Lightly, she runs her fingers through the curls against his groin, back and forth, careful even as she pants against his mouth. And then she's taking him in hand, stroking his length firm and slow. A delicious shiver rocks down her spine, thumb pressing against the head where he's already damp. )
I know. ( She can't stop touching him, head spinning with want. ) Jesus, I know.
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Date: 2018-01-22 07:35 pm (UTC)I need to - I want to - [ When words fail him, he slides his fingers down, dipping inside her to the knuckle, like he's asking permission. ] - can I?
[ fuck you, he doesn't say, because he's no good with these kind of things and also, it sort of feels like a given. The only real question is, can he do it now, before he comes all over her hand. ]
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Date: 2018-01-23 06:48 pm (UTC)( There's a moan that follows, feeling on fire just from his fingers inside of her. Freeing her hand and sending his boxers falling to his ankles, Clarice shifts to the edge of the desk, some of the tattered fabric of her underwear still trapped between her. It's the stuff of terrible dirty novels and she doesn't fucking care. Instead she winds her legs around him, the back of her calf urging him towards her. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock is easy, so is taking control, guiding him with her until all he has to do is push inside of her. )
John.
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Date: 2018-01-24 09:33 am (UTC)Clarice -
[ It's a moan more than anything else but it's all he can say as he bottoms out, clenching his jaw and tilting his head back as he presses himself close to her, a hand pushing up into her hair, fingers tangling in with it. He doesn't pull, just - just holds, wanting to keep and feel her close as possible. ]
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Date: 2018-01-26 04:19 pm (UTC)Her moan is quiet, just a note pitched low enough for him to hear it, lips finding his skin. Clarice rolls her hips then, rocks against him, sparks behind her eyes. It's been a long time, but even then the only reason she wants this quite as much because it's him. )
Come on, it's okay.
( Dragging her lips to his throat, his mouth, pressing her forehead to his. ) You can let go now.
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Date: 2018-01-26 05:01 pm (UTC)He moves, thrusts into her deep and hard, dragging out slowly and doing it again, the desk creaking under her, moving a fraction with each thrust. John drops his forehead to Clarice's shoulder, holding her close like a desperate man, feeling like one, starved for the kind of love Clarice has been wholeheartingly offering him - not just this, but everything else, the comfort, the support, the help, the tenderness.
He moves into her, able to feel her all around him, never wanting to be anywhere but right here, his lips on her skin and his body pressed to hers, choked off groans escaping him every time he pushes in. ]
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Date: 2018-01-26 06:04 pm (UTC)Oh.
( Her voice is barely a whisper, she knows they have to be careful. But she can't contain all her noises. What she can do is muffle them, fingers digging in. Clarice moves with every thrust, hungry for the way he presses deep inside her, thighs already slick with arousal. Her knees press into his sides when she shifts, every inch they can touch pressed tight. )
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Date: 2018-01-28 06:13 pm (UTC)He lifts his head with difficulty, one of his hands grabbing the side of her head, rougher than he'd like to be, but the kiss he lays on her is gentle, full of everything he has no idea how to say.
This isn't what he imagined it would be. He imagined that if they were to go there, he would manage to make it romantic, somehow, and this isn't it. This is rushed, urgent, passionate, like the two of them just couldn't keep their hands off of each other for a moment longer. It isn't what he imagined, but it's Clarice.
When he pulls away from the kiss, he presses his forehead to hers, his hair all over his face. ] - Clarice -
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Date: 2018-01-30 07:56 pm (UTC)John.
( It's barely a whisper, just a name on her exhale. Clarice bites her bottom lip, the desk creaking slightly between them. The noise of the Base should be enough to cover what sounds they do make. She clutches his hand, squeezing it in her own, lifting her free one to press between the two of them. Her knuckles brush his skin while she strokes her clit, eyes half closed but not all the way. She wants to be able to see him, if she can't see him.
She won't last long, not when they're this frantic. But it's enough to satisfy some of her hunger for him, for his skin. )
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