| thenyxie ( @ 2007-09-01 12:47:00 |
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| Entry tags: | buffy/angel/faith, fic, porn |
Pr0n!
We can has intarwebs! Posting from Dragon*Con for "Bring Back the Porn Day" on InsaneJournal.
Slow circles drawn around the circumference of his cock, licking slowly down the length and back up again, pausing long enough to wrap her tongue around the head, teasing it with slow kisses, sucking him like her life depended on it—and god damn she was good at this. When had that happened?
He didn't care, didn't want to care, only buried his hands in the tousle of her golden hair, lifting his hips to meet her every slow, sucking thrust.
"Fuck. Buffy," he gasped, the words slow heat as they left his lips.
"No," Faith whispered. Teeth capture his lower lip with perfect pressure, the taste of butter rum lip gloss filling his mouth, husky voice like scotch and cigarettes. Sweet, burning, then releasing, breath hot against his mouth, lips just barely grazing his. "No fucking Buffy."
Feathering strokes down his chest, wicked fingernails tracing teasing lines around his nipples, drifting down, down, over the taut muscles of his stomach, teasing at the edge of the soft spot between thigh and groin.
Buffy licked her way all the way up to the tip, caressing him with tiny flickers of her tongue, and then enveloped him, sliding in a straight line until her lips met the barrier of his body.
"Oh, God…" A ragged moan, a prayer of hope and lust no Catholic God would ever honor.
"I think he's gonna come," Faith said, her very voice a tormenting smile.
Buffy gave one last thrust and twist of her head, rising to the top and pulling away, thin line of pre-cum and saliva trailing from her lower lip to his cock.
"Can't have that," she said, her eyes burning like coals as she stared up at him, that fragile thread between them holding. Then she licked her lips and smiled—the smile of wanton woman, a smile he'd never seen on her before.
"I think…" he took a deep breath, sat up, caught Buffy in his arms and pushed her down against the bed. "It's your turn to squirm," he whispered, lips just a fraction of an inch from hers, and flattened his body out, pressing himself against the softness between her thighs. Her eyes widened, and he smiled.
He slid his hands slowly up her arms, taking his time, tasting their texture with every single one of his fingertips, then took her hands in his, sliding them up to the headboard. She was so hot and smooth beneath him, so soft and yielding, so like the trembling girl he remembered now that he was in control.
He released her for a moment, cupped her face, kissed her gently. He could taste her sweetness, feel her breathe, the scent of her body enveloping him. He could lose himself there, so easily. Forget himself in her, move with her until the two of them moved as one, bodies fused together, arcing like a falling star. The desire was overwhelming him, stealing his resolve, the weight of his soul and the burden of memory slipping away.
Her eyes were open, just barely, lips still parted and glistening with his kisses. The eyes of a woman, now, not a seventeen-year-old girl, but they were still wide with fear and wonder, warm with loving trust, poised on the threshold of something both frightening and wondrous. losing her innocence for the very first time
He slips one slender wrist into the fur-lined cuffs and Faith snaps it closed. He kisses her, savoring her heat, her taste, the taste of himself, and she bucks against him even as the second cuff clicks into place around her other wrist.
He sat up, smiling again, his knees still pinning her thighs down to the bed. She stared at him, mouth half open, breasts high and firm, nipples peaked and hard as they rose and fell with her labored breathing. Smoldering eyes traveled the length of her body, surveying every curve, tracing every sinew with languorous detail.
Faith moved up behind him, slid her arms around his waist, teeth nipping at the nape of his neck, and he pulled himself from the moment. Reached for the other soft-lined cuffs. Another moment, and her thighs were cuffed to her calves, keeping her immobile, bar between her ankles keeping her spread apart.
He looked at her for a moment more, then slowly lowered his head, tongue tracing a slow line from her belly downward. He took his time, teased the skin of her inner thighs, made her mewl and moan, until at last he dipped to taste from her well. Just the slightest of tastes and then his tongue slid upward, trailing off just before touching the part of her that ached with need.
He could do this all night, and they have plenty of time.