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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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.

Isabelle only wished she'd had the presence of mind to actually scratch something meaningful onto his back. A Mark, or her name, or even just a heart. But as it was, he was just getting some nice red lines and the sting that came with them.

And once he was squeezing her breast, she didn't care, either. Her nipples had hardened and her breasts were sensitive and she hissed some very dirty curses under her panting breath. But she was also looking up at him. She wanted this in her memory, the sight of him when he was focusing on nothing but her.

The look she was giving him was love and lust in about equal measure.

"I could pull out now," Flick panted, looking down at her and smirking. He took his hand away from her breast and sat up on his knees, still inside her, still moving.

His fingers snaked down her body and found her clit, thumb rubbing rough circle against that sensitive area as he smirked and smiled at her.

"Want that?"

Isabelle was sure he was just getting more gorgeous by the moment. Was that even possible? She didn't even care. He was gorgeous and he was hers.

And right now he was making her squirm. She shook her head. It was urgent. "No, I don't want that," she said. There was a gasp somewhere in there. "No. Want you to c-come inside me." She swallowed. Her hands had slid away from his back when he sat up. Now she brought them up to her breasts. Look, that was his fault: he'd brought her attention up to them and now she needed them played with. Pinching and tweaking her nipples went great with the way he was rubbing her clit.

As he could probably tell from the nice and rough moan.

Again, Flick wasn't going to pull out. His thrusts grew quicker and and harder as he tried to outlet all his fraying focus into making her come. There was a fine tremble happening in his arms and legs and his fingers just got rougher and sharper on her clit.

He thought he'd be able to hang on until she came but something about her touching herself, his fingers and his cock pumping into her cut any vestige of control without a warning.

He snapped his hips one more time and came, shouting her name and pinching her clit just as best as his fingers could while they were shaking and the pleasure rode through him.

He didn't need to worry. She'd already been tensing up for a moment, feeling the build-up get more and more intense. When the time came, there was enough pinching happening to push her right off that edge.

She didn't yell his name but he could rest assured it was on her tongue when her control gave out. It just couldn't get past the strangled moan that pushed out instead.

That was the sound of a very satisfied woman.

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