Room 301, Monday Afternoon

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was having trouble focusing.

She didn't even have anything in particular that needed her undivided attention, so it shouldn't have been a problem. But it was annoying. She didn't like moods like this. What was the point of not being able to get lost in doing anything? Ugh. And she'd already been down at the gym training, too. And both her closets were as organized as they were going to get. And she didn't feel like shopping.

So, this was how you ended up pacing around the room like a caged animal. It was not a good look on her.

Maybe she needed to go for a run or something.

[ooc: Open post, open door!]

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[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle put her hands on his hips and leaned against his back a little. She pulled her hips back and rolled them against him again, still slow for now. She wanted him to have a chance to get used to the feeling again.

"You okay there, baby?" she murmured. "Good to get screwed until you either come or beg for release?"

[flickofthewrist]

"I'm good. I'm fine," Flick assured her, nodding. "Keep going. Don't stop now."

[seveninchmotto]

"Wasn't going to."

In fact, he got a nice big quicker thrust for his troubles. And another one.

[flickofthewrist]

"Good. God," Flick moaned, controlling his breathing as best he could and closing his eyes tightly. "Yeah, that's good. That's really good."

[seveninchmotto]

"Yeah, it is." There was some friction and pressure involved for her, too. Her hands gripped his hips a little tighter. She needed that for getting into a good rhythm of pushing her hips against his ass. "Moan for me again, baby."

[flickofthewrist]

"I will." He turned to look back at her, smirking deviously. "When it's deserved."

[seveninchmotto]

"When it's deserved?" Isabelle asked, tilting her head. "Hmm."

She moved her hips a little bit before the next thrust in, changing the angle a little. No one could blame her for wanting to try to recreate the effect her curving fingers had had.

[flickofthewrist]

No one would be blaming her from his side of things. He definitely felt that and clamped down on any sounds coming out just to be a prick. But, the muscles in his arms tightened and he bowed his head again, letting the new sensations and feelings surge through him.

[seveninchmotto]

"Oh, I know what you're doing," she murmured when he made no sound. Her nails pressed into his skin as she thrust in again. And again. Getting that little bit quicker and a little rougher, too. "Stubborn puppy."

[flickofthewrist]

Flick struggled to keep quiet but he did. His body was certainly reacting by tensing and tightening up on him but he was going to be damn stubborn and resistant by keeping his moans to himself.

He rocked forward with her thrusts, blinking his eyes open and looking at himself in her mirror. He breathed.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle smirked at him deviously over his shoulder, through the mirror. Her hips were settling into a good pace now. Nice and quick and harsh, with an angle that seemed to work.

"Come on, baby, no moans?" she asked him. "Nothing? You're rock hard and getting screwed and I can see how you're tensing all over. Let it out. I want to hear it."

[flickofthewrist]

"Haven't been made to moan yet," he stuttered out, breathing roughly and bracing himself against the wall. He caught her eyes in the mirror and matched her smirk with one of his own. Still stubborn.

He desperately wanted to touch himself, stroke and jerk and come but he couldn't so he didn't.

[seveninchmotto]

"Oh come on, baby," Isabelle replied without letting her own smirk falter. "You want to. I want to. Would you like to hear that, baby?"

She wasn't going to bother waiting for a reply. So on the next firm, sharp thrust, she moaned. Nothing fake about it, either. The pressure felt good, and watching him had her pretty revved up too.

[flickofthewrist]

"Make me moan," he mumbled, voice trembling a bit. He was really breathing quick and shallow now and he wanted so badly to touch himself. So badly.

Hearing her moan did nothing to help his resolve, though. He didn't moan but he did let a ragged sigh escape through his lips.

[seveninchmotto]

"Let yourself."

Isabelle leaned against his back. This meant two things. One, her thrusts got shorter. Her hips didn't move as far from his ass as they had before. But they weren't any less quick or hard or deep. If anything, they were more so. She was putting her stamina to good use, slamming her hips against his ass again and again and again. She wanted him to feel this for a while.

Two, she could lick a strip of his shoulder and neck before biting it. "I bet you're aching," she murmured. "I bet you want to come so badly."

[flickofthewrist]

"I do," Flick mumbled, nodding and tipping his head back some. "I want to come. Touch me. Will you touch me a little bit at least? Come on."

No begging. Not yet.

[seveninchmotto]

While she was still relentlessly thrusting, Isabelle's hand left his hip to slowly trail over his stomach, and downwards ––

And then she pulled it back, and laughed.

"No."

[flickofthewrist]

"Then, I will."

He was going to test her now, see what she'd do. He pulled one hand back and wrapped it around himself, stroking slowly. He didn't moan either but he did push back against her and her toy.

He was going to be feeling that for awhile, the pain and the pleasure all commingling right around his ass, yeah.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle's hand was almost immediately around his wrist, pulling his hand back.

She tsked.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick tried using his other hand, then. That meant he had no support at all but still. He wrapped it around his dick again and stroked a few times, trying to get closer to his release.

[seveninchmotto]

Well, that meant Isabelle couldn't keep leaning against his back, either. Because of course she reached down to grab his other hand as well.

"Nope," she said. "Not allowed, baby. I'm in charge."

Even if that meant holding both his wrists.

[flickofthewrist]

"Then, prove it," he mumbled roughly, aching so badly right now. "Make me come. Make me moan. Like you mean, Isabelle."

[seveninchmotto]

"I always mean it." She was thrusting into him like she meant it, too, with his wrists pulled back to her hips for some leverage and balance.

There was another little angle change. Trying to get this perfect. Trying to make him shake and moan. He'd been pressing her buttons, earlier. Now she was trying to press his.

[flickofthewrist]

"Oh, fuck," Flick coughed, barely able to feel anything but what she was doing. His body was on fire and it was shivering and he wanted to jerk himself off but he thought he might be able to come without it. "Goddammit. Harder. Prove you meant it."

[seveninchmotto]

"I don't have to prove a damn thing," Isabelle hissed by his shoulder. She was panting a little. And she was going to try and prove it anyway, regardless of what she said. Her hips were slamming against his ass pretty hard as it was, but she found it within herself to go even harder. He wanted that, he was getting that. Rough and quick thrusts to try and push him over the edge.

"Come on," she said. "Feel how much I mean it, baby?"

She thought she could keep this up for a while. She also thought she could try and push him with some words, but she held those back for now. Maybe in a second, if he needed them.