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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Apr 6, 2009 15:12:36 GMT 1
There was a moment of panic as Silas made the nature of his desire known. Her resistance had been minimal, but it had been met with a forceful response she really hadn’t been expecting. She froze as his weight shifted; her eyes wide as he was effectively pinning her to the bed. The feel of him on her was not altogether unpleasant but in context it was worrying. Her mind raced, throwing up all sorts of horrific ways this could end but her body had other ideas. It liked the domineering way his hand tightly held her neck, it responded favourably to the husky demands and before she could throw up some mental block to resist, his lips were moving on hers and she was matching him in harmonious symmetry.
If she said no, would he stop? She’d encouraged this, but usually Jac was the one in control. Apparently the confidence Silas exuded in daily life crossed over to the bedroom, and there was little she could do to resist him. Half her mind and all of her body did not want him to stop. It insisted she would enjoy it so long as she didn’t think too hard about what would happen if she resisted again. It was like trying to outrun a tsunami. So long as she could stay ahead of the wave, she wouldn’t be caught up in the fatal flood and crushing water. Her mind didn’t want to dwindle on the word ‘rape’. She couldn’t escape – she’d left her wand in the bathroom – and she had asked for it. She could still turn this round to her advantage. If she gave Silas everything he wanted, perhaps he would still owe her something.
His hands were moving, and her back arched to feel the touch more solidly. It was hard to believe that this was going to be all about him if he was delivering this sort of attention, and she started to relax. That was almost undone when Silas loosened his trousers. For a brief moment, she thought that was the end of the games and they were getting right to it. Then his mission was accomplished and his hands and lips returned to their doting.
Jac let her mind take a back seat, allowing her restless body to dictate most of her actions. The loosening of her inhibitions was hardly something she did on a regular basis – with the exception of last night – but it came with an almost criminal feeling of relief. She didn’t have to think about the implications, just surf on the wave and hope the sharks didn’t drag her under.
She wanted to start unbuttoning his shirt but from this angle it would be problematic. She settled for smoothing her hands up and down his spine, enjoying the friction of warm skin. She made soft noises of contentment as his lips worked over his torso and one of her hands moved to cusp the back of his head. As he worked steadily further downward, her fingers tightened in anticipation, nails gently rasping his scalp. He didn’t continue and she sighed, feeling the hammer of her heartbeat inside her chest. She’d been hoping he would, but perhaps he wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. No matter, she could feel one hand slipping lower as he distracted her with his mouth on other sensitive areas.
All her skin was tingling by the time his fingertips passed her navel. She was holding her breath in anticipation. Just a little further. He skipped, and she made a breathless sound of dismay. His fingers were working their way up again and she shifted to make it obvious what she wanted. Her fingers were holding tight to the back of his neck, clenching on his lower spine after having slipped a few inches under the waistband. She bit her lip, sure he would this time. When he skipped again, her protest was more of a desperate gasp. What was he trying to do? Make her beg? She would not beg.
She was holding her breath, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, facing away with her eyes closed. His fingers were close again, mere inches away, moving so teasingly slowly. A mantra started in her mind. She would not beg. She would not beg. Her heart raced, the anticipatory warmth gathering in all the right places was starting to ache. He was driving her to insanity with those lips. She would not beg. She was used to being the one in control, she was the one making her partner plead for a release and when she gave it, collecting the rewards.
This, this was torture. She had underestimated Silas’ experience. She should have realised he would not be an easy mark, being the owner of a strip club. He could probably make any woman beg for him – he had so much to offer and not all of it was pressing warm hard and insistently against her leg. He was rich, he had power: the things that had drawn Jac in. But she was not some stripper, she never begged for anything.
His fingers were grazing so close. Her back arched and the frustration was apparent in the half-groan half-growl that she bit back. She would not beg. By now she was glaring daggers at her employer, angered at her sudden lack of self-restraint. His fingers were moving up again, and she could feel herself slipping. She would not beg. Just a little bit closer. She would not beg. So close. She would not beg. Almost. Her breath caught, she couldn’t hold it any longer. “Please!” The simple breathless plea was laced with need. The teasing was just too much. It was a benchmark moment. Silas was in control, and there was nothing she could or wanted to do about it.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 7, 2009 14:28:46 GMT 1
It was then, and only then, that Silas gave her what she needed.
And, really, that wasn't even the end of the foreplay.
God-knew how long later, Silas had made three discoveries worth noting:
1) They could get fairly destructive. How they’d managed to destroy a lamp, the radio and knock out some small draws was a damned good question.
2) Jac could be quite a screamer when properly encouraged. Suffice to say the poor folks in the adjoining rooms wouldn’t have had to make any second guesses about the goings on. Silas had actually gotten quite a kick out of the whole affair, a bit like a child experimentally pressing buttons to see which got the desired effect.
3) Jac had a fair bit more talent than he’d given her credit for. As the afternoon persisted it had become increasingly difficult to tell exactly who was getting the better of whom. Jac had resolved to get revenge for the games he’d been playing earlier with a tenacity that had to be admired, but Silas had been a little too preoccupied to keep track of any points. The score was now anyone’s guess.
By the time they finally pulled apart any and all sense of time had been completely lost. “Fuck.” Not exactly the most insightful of comments, but anything more intelligent would require Silas’s brain to be functioning at least semi-coherently. “Jesus, Jac, were you trying to kill me?” he laughed through deep breaths.
The most he wanted to accomplish at the moment was to lie there sucking in air the post-sex glow while his exertion-related breathing and the bass drum of a heartbeat steadily worked back to something resembling normal. He was relatively calm for once, which was an unusual enough occurrence on its own. Might as well bask in it while he had the chance.
The only motivating thing was the thought of more vodka, but even then it was a while before he could muster the desire to get up. Where the hell had his trousers ended up? Screw it; it wasn’t like he needed them this very second. Sluggishly he rolled off the bed to sit on the edge, taking a second to absently run a hand through his hair before standing. Well, it felt like a complete mess and probably didn’t look much classier.
He didn’t bother rummaging this time. He knew immediately where to find what he wanted and Silas instantaneously made a grab for the bottle at the far right corner. Stupid thieving bastards; making the bottles smaller so the mini-bar had to be raided more often. It didn’t even occur to him to get Jac anything until he was on the way back and by then he was too lazy to turn around. If she wanted some she’d just snatch it like she always did and Silas for once wasn’t going to put up much fuss about it.
He collapsed back onto the bed with a grunt, feeling Jac move next to him. Letting his head sink back onto the pillow, Silas twisted the cap off the bottle and tilted his head enough to be able to get it into his mouth without spilling everything. Bottoms up. The goal was really just to ingest as much as possible before Jac got there and it was only the need to breathe which made him slow up. He made a slight choking noise as some of it nearly went down the wrong way. Ergh, attempting to drink horizontally when your head was still not all there was apparently unadvisable.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Apr 8, 2009 0:45:46 GMT 1
Afterward, Jac rolled away and half-curled under the covers. The slightest of contented smiles curled one corner of her mouth, and her eyes drooped in near exhaustion. Oh God, she was going to ache in all the right places in a few hours. She felt like she could sleep until the next morning after that workout. She chuckled softly as Silas voiced his concerned opinion. “I could accuse you of the same – I can’t feel my legs.” She settled the side of her face into the pillow, listening to Silas as he caught his breath.
At the feel of his movement, she turned leisurely to watch him cross the room, admiring the way his back muscles worked together as he walked. When he about faced to return, she closed her eyes as if she hadn’t been watching, though it was likely her lingering on his chest and abdominal muscles didn’t go unnoticed.
As Silas settled back into bed, Jac casually rolled back, pillowed her head on his shoulder and draped a thigh over his. The hand not trapped by her body smoothed its way over his stomach, sliding up his chest to rest on his opposite shoulder. Jac was not usually the snuggling type, but she deserved a little indulgence after that fiasco. She was afraid to look at the havoc they’d wreaked, having been a little distracted to pay attention at the time.
Silas had lived up to her expectations and more. Jac had enough senses left to have kept a score of her own, though the details were quickly degrading as exhaustion took hold. Had it been two or three? Had that bit against the wall been a forth? That would be a new record. She’d thoroughly enjoyed herself and once they both recovered, she was not adverse for another round – although perhaps not quite so frantic and destructive.
With a soft moan, she pressed herself up against her employer, for once ignoring the vodka within snatchable reach in favour of enjoying the aftermath. She spared a fleeting thought from his health; he could drown himself drinking that quickly. Her entire body was warm and tingling with the exception of her legs which seemed to be staging a revolt. No matter, she was not planning on getting out of bed any time soon.
Her mind wondered back, replaying a few of the most prominent highlights. “Mmm.” She turned her face into his shoulder, tasting his skin with a few questing kisses. “Silas? This doesn’t change our professional relationship – this is just a little fun after-hours.” Okay, so technically she was on the clock at this particular moment in time, but she was planning on some more actual after-hour activity later. Her hand on his shoulder followed the line of his neck, running absently over the rough stubble on his cheek. Damn, he was handsome. She was treading a thin line between business and pleasure here. She should have realised nothing with Silas was straight forward, not even sex.
Whatever answer he gave was lost to her, the rumble of his voice though his chest just an aide to her drifting. Sleep was needed, and with her body so warm and completely and utterly satisfied, she had no trouble slipping into a deep sleep full of warm dreams escalating to hot – the sort of temperature not measurable by a thermometer. When she woke, the added warmth and comfort of Silas was gone, and a look at the clock explained why. Sighing, Jac stretched out, simultaneously hissed and groaned at the strain of it and settled back down to sleep out the rest of the night. The room was at Silas’ expense after all, and if anybody should know, she knew he could easily afford it.
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