seveninchmotto | The Apartment, New York, Sunday

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The Apartment, New York, Sunday

Isabelle was in her element. Not only was her boyfriend home – and not just visiting for the day but on actual break – but she was also cooking for him. That's right, their kitchen was a happy mess of various kinds of ingredients and pots and pans with ––

With, well, something cooking in them. It was honestly hard to tell what it was by the smell. Or the ingredients strewn about the counters. Or the way it looked, even. Maybe... maybe it was some kind of stew?

Whatever it was, Isabelle looked happy to be making it.

[ooc: NFB, and expecting a ton of SP, omg.]

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Flick closed the distance and kissed her, urging her legs up and around his waist as he did. He reached down and got his hands under her ass so he could start lifting her and could take her over to the bed.

Isabelle did not hesitate a second. She was on him, her toned, scarred legs wrapped tightly around his waist while her arms stayed around his neck for support.

All while kissing him like it was the most important thing in the world.

Flick carried her the short distance over to their bed where he gently lowered her down, following her quickly. He let his weight rest atop her, legs stretched out alongside hers and arms bracketed around her shoulders.

He didn't stop kissing her.

He better not. She was greedy for his lips and letting it show in the way her mouth moved against his. It was a deep kiss, nothing tentative or light about it in the slightest.

Her hands were on his back, fingertips rubbing down. No nails just yet but they'd be there soon.

Flick raised himself up to his knees only so he could start to try and push his jeans and boxers down his legs. It was hard to do with his lips still attached to hers but he wasn't willing to let her go just yet.

With the way Isabelle was clinging to him it would've been hard to do anyway. Not impossible, but not very easy. She bit his lip before diving back into the kiss.

Still, she'd allow whatever he needed to do in order to actually screw her. She had her priorities straight, and getting him in her was the main one.

Flick kissed her for a moment longer before he pulled off and licked her lips. he said, "Can you use your legs to kick my pants off the rest of the way?"

Her legs were long and his pants were halfway down but unless she wanted him to move, this was the best way to go about it.

She could. Easily.

It involved parting her legs underneath him, but he probably wasn't going to mind that one bit. That way she could use her feet to drag his pants off the rest of the way. She was limber, it was easy. "Better?"

"Much," he murmured, settling in between her legs and smiling down at her. "How's it for you?"

"I don't feel very taken," she teased quietly, wrapping her legs around his waist. The heel of one of her feet rubbed against the back of his thigh. "You should change that."

"I'm going to," he promised, reaching up and brushing her hair back from his face. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, baby. I love you and I missed you."

"I missed you too," she murmured, closing her eyes and giving in to the urge to be just a little bit mushy right now. "I love you."

Flick pushed up onto his knees a bit, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock so he could slide closer.

He glanced up at her and said, "Still okay without protection or anything?"

He wasn't dumb, he knew how birth control worked but it was still her body and her decision and he didn't want to just take advantage after one time without a condom.

Isabelle rolled her eyes at him, but it was very, very fond. You could tell by the curve of her lips. "You're killing my mood, mundane," she teased, joking.

It was her way of saying they were okay.

"Don't call me mundane," he said, growling the words again before pushing his cock into her not at all gently. Nothing that would hurt her, nothing that was too rough but he'd promised to take her so he was going to do just that.

Isabelle gasped. Really, it was more of an inhaled yelp. She wasn't hurt, far from it. At most she was just surprised at how insanely good it felt to get what she'd been wanting for a nice while now.

"Then what else?" she asked, while her hands went to his back, where her nails immediately dug into his skin.

"You know what else to call me," Flick said, staying inside her without moving for a few long seconds. "Flick. Jon. Baby. Babe. You know what names I like."

Flick pulled back and thrust forward, hammering his hips into hers on a first, good hard snap of his hips. "No more mundane."

"You sure?" she asked, after a moan had slipped out unbidden. Because, God, yes. The pleasure hit her hard. Her nails reciprocated by dragging red welts down to the small of his back. "Maybe for a... little while still. Mundane."

"You call me mundane and I'm going to pull out and jerk myself off with my hand," he mock threatened, rocking his hips back into her slowly, teasingly. He stayed deep and bit her lower lip. "And yes, I know you can get yourself off but it's not the same."

"You wouldn't do that." She sounded confident of that fact. Her legs were still just a little tighter around his hips, though. Her breath was uneven against his lips. He was great at teasing. And she was taking advantage of that to say some words. "But say you would. Where would you come? My stomach? My breasts?"

"Oh, I would do that," Flick said though he made no move to try and pull away. He let more of his weight rest atop her and thrust harder, several quick strokes before answered her question.

"Your hair," he teased and leaned down to kiss her, bruising and deep.

By doing that, he muffled her mock-outraged gasp. Oh well. She allowed herself to get a little lost in the kiss. Overwhelmed in the best ways.

She kissed him back, giving him back just as good as she got.

Flick pulled back from the kiss, licking her lips and then pushing himself up so he could grab the headboard and use it to thrust and screw into her harder and harder.

He had no plans to pull out and come anywhere else but inside of her. He tipped his head back and started panting very slightly.

Yeah, he better not have had any plans like that. Isabelle would not have taken that well.

But she was taking this extremely well. "That's so fucking good, Jon," she moaned. Yes, he'd earned not being called a mundane. (For now.) He'd also earned the way her nails scratched down his back.

There was going to be blood, if there wasn't already.

Flick didn't respond with words. Instead, he reached down, using one of his hands to knead and squeeze her breast while his hips kept moving, slamming into hers and smacking the headboard against their wall.

The stinging from his back told him that if there wasn't blood, she'd fix that soon and he didn't care. She could mark him all she wanted and he did not care.

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