bakerstreet | Sunday Smutty Sunday

The fact that he'd reduced her to swearing, not just in her own mother-tongue but in his own as well, was something that made him more than just a little smug. He didn't, however, let that distract him from what he was doing.

Honestly he wasn't going to let up again until she pushed him off. He made another lowthroated, hungry little sound as he continued working his fingers into her, curling now and then on every third or fourth stroke, finally sealing his mouth over the peak of her mound once more, tongue still flicking against and over her clit in a relentless, steady rhythm.

He was ruthless and efficient in his efforts to make her come undone; he touched her in every way that could make her squirm atop the dresser. And she could do little more than hang on and enjoy the ride. He found a rhythm that drove her mad, that pushed her to the edge of pleasure, keeping her there so long that the ache was almost painful in its intensity.

She gasped and moaned, panted out soft German curses, demanded he never stop in Russian. Just a little more seemed to be the words that echoed through her until finally, finally, she didn't need anymore. Her body tensed against his, fighting her legs instinct to press together and keep his head trapped between her thighs. No, she gasped out his name as her fingers curled against his scalp, her hips bucked once into his mouth and her head fell back with a long, drawn out (and yet still dainty) sound of ecstasy as she came.

He wouldn't have minded the thigh-hold on his head, really, though it would have made it a little difficult to continue what he was doing.

The hand that wasn't otherwise occupied -still thrusting those two fingers into her, albeit more slowly once she'd crested- resumed stroking along her flank, slowly down and back. Even the movement of his tongue gentled once she'd reached her peak, going back to the slow, broader strokes against and over her clit, intent on prolonging that pleasure as long as possible, it seemed.

Her toes curled against his back as he coaxed her orgasm to last longer, doing all he could to extend her pleasure. Her body trembles with the aftershocks, her fingers moving to curl in his hair as she made a few soft sounds, ones that might sound like protest, a sort of whine as he wrung out every ounce of pleasure he could.

Yes, this was exactly what she wanted from him, even if she didn't want it to be over, she wasn't done. "I want you," she murmured in her broken Russian, breathless and wild. She didn't care how sensitive her body felt, she wanted to chase this feeling, to feel him inside of her as she came again.

Well that was definitely not something he was going to deny her, not given the fact that he was fully hard and had been for a while. He smiled against her again, giving one last, firm lick before he rolled to his feet, withdrawing his fingers from her so that he could catch hold of her hips again, tugging her that much closer to the edge of the dresser.

He didn't bother to ask if she was ready, he knew she wouldn't have made the demand if she wasn't. That was one of the things he'd learned about her early on: when she demanded something she meant right then, and so, once he knew she was stable, mostly by way of his hand at her hip and the other one braced against the wall behind her, he rolled forward, filling her almost completely with just that first push.

Complete and utter and smug contentment she got from him obeying her orders, immediately, could not be measured in anything other than a loud moan in that moment. His body moved with an easy grace, one that she matched, scrambling forward on the dresser, gripping the edges of the desk for a moment as he thrust into her, their hips rolling into each other as he filled her almost to the hilt.

A German curse fell from her lips then as she didn't give any care to keeping her language clean when he felt so unbelievably good inside of her. Her body felt overly sensitive, still pulsating from her climax that it almost hurt but oh, the pain was a good one. One that had her panting and desperate for more. For now, she was content to let him be in control but as he knew, her moods could change like the wind. For now, she wanted to feel just how much he wanted her, wanted--"No holding back. Show me."

The fact that she swore probably more than he did was one of the things he liked about her, and he couldn't help the smile at that rough-edged curse, and the demand just sent the smile spreading further, all teeth and nearly-feral, just making another one of those low sounds in his throat, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest.

His fingers tightened against her hip, pinning her in place as he withdrew, just a little before rocking forward again, burying a groan in her hair as he sunk fully into her, giving his hips a little jolting movement once he'd done so, both to rub against her already tender clit but also to prove that he had no further he could go.

Perhaps that smile may terrify a lesser person but it only served to make Gaby hungrier, more eager for him, for that that smile could mean and the promise of what was to come. He pressed forward, his grip feeling bruising in the best way, making her gasp, the sound thrilled and loud.

Her hands moved from the edges of the dress to grip at his arms. "Da," she panted out, sounding like a woman possessed, one hand moving to grip his chin to draw his mouth to hers for a kiss, as rough and feral as his smile. "More."

Edited 2016-05-30 23:54 (UTC)

He replied to that kiss in kind, even as his hips settled into shallow little jolting movements, already fully-seated in her, just rocking against her to feel her clench against him each time.

He caught her lower lip lightly between his teeth as he finally withdrew again, slowly, smoothly, hesitating just briefly when it was just the head of his shaft held by her lips before he rode forward again with a movement solid enough to rock the dresser under her, nearly growling again only to repeat the movement a moment later, the slow withdrawal and the sudden, firm press forward.

For one cruel moment, she thought he might withdrawal from her completely but before she could even think to muster a whimper of protest, he pounded back into her, sending her body and the dresser beneath it trembling, her pert breasts bouncing with the force of it.

A moan escaped her lips, half formed because he did it again, forcing a gasp of delight from her, the sound utterly obscene in it's pitch and volume. If the room weren't a suite, she'd feel for their neighbors, what with the way the dresser slammed against the wall with each movement, the painting on wall above it quivering in protest.

As good as it felt, as thrilling as the sound of his thighs slapping violently against her own, her hands combed through his hair restlessly, her lips curved against his, "Again."

He had both hands braced against the wall behind her at that point, withdrawing just as far as the loop of her legs would allow before slamming forward again, and again, rattling dresser and picture frame each time.

He shifted his stance just a little, stabilizing himself so that he could keep up that same pace, chances were good he'd be able to keep it up almost indefinitely, he was, on occasion, a machine and this was definitely one of those times. The more stable stance also made it so that he could drop one of the hands he'd been bracing himself with, settling it between them, taking just a moment until he could position the knuckles of his first two fingers to either side of her clit, rocking against it with each thrust, apparently intent on wringing another orgasm out of her.

Oh, when he touched her like that, she let out an embarrassingly feminine whimper, her eyes fluttering and her mouth tearing from his as her head fell backward. For a moment, she was too caught up in the friction, the thrusting, the bounce of their bodies, his fingers. For moment, she couldn't formulate a coherent thought beyond yes, Illya, yes as he did as she commanded, over and over and over.

She felt herself climbing towards that peak and every sound that fell from her mouth made that clear. But she didn't want it to end that soon, not that she questioned his stamina, of course. But she wanted to continue to command control, now that she had a taste of power.

So with a quick movement, she arched upward, moving to clutch at his neck, her body colliding with his and pressing flush just as he thrust into her. Arching again, she looked at him with a fire. "On your back." On the bed, on the floor, she didn't care. She wanted on top and she wanted to make him come with her.

Her sudden movement was enough to get a half-surprised curse out of him in turn, though it was followed by that hungry grin once more, arm looping reflexively around her waist, hand under her ass to just lift her from the dresser as he took a step backwards, the movement did pull him out of her, but that was likely for the best for the time being.

It was only a step and a half back to the bed, still supporting her easily as he sat and then stretched out onto his back, the hand at her ass sliding up her spine to draw her with him as he did so with a quiet rumble of: "As you wish" in German. She wasn't the only one dabbling in another language, it seemed.

As much as she might have mourned the loss of him inside of her, she wasn't all that upset given that he did as she asked, holding her close and moving them backward towards the bed. She was grateful he chose it the moment laid back and her knees hit the mattress. Her hands moved to his chest, her body moved to better straddle his as he pulled her down.

And just as she was going to reach for him, to align their bodies once more, he murmured those three words in her native tongue. Suddenly, it was more than just lust that drove her, that made her heart race. Her eyes met with his and she let out a soft, astonished laugh, caught off guard. "Very good," she said in the tongue they both spoke, the tone perhaps too adoring for someone meant to be his partner only. She moved move to kiss him once, ignoring the bloom of something deeper within her, the very thing that had driven her to jealousy in the first place. "Very, very good."

Her hands reached for his, moving them to her thighs so they wouldn't hinder her from moving to sit up above him. As one hand moved to slide up his chest, the other reached between them to grip his cock, giving him a little squeeze. "Say: I want you." She repeated the last three words in German, breathlessly, impatient to have him inside of her again but eager to hear him say it.

The surprise was why he'd done it, and he was not disappointed in that. The praise was enough to have him smiling again, the slow-spreading, all-too-gentle smile that she was one of the few people who knew the existence of.

There was another rumble of amusement as she repositioned his hands, but he allowed it, kneading gently at her thighs once she'd placed them, both brows lifting a little at the new demand, suffice to say that was not a phrase he'd practiced, and practicing right then was probably not the best way to go about it, but he did have a good ear, and while the pronunciation wasn't perfect, it was at least closer than someone else in his position probably would have managed.

Illya was always quite good under pressure. And it seemed that this time was no different. No, it wasn't perfect. If he were in Germany, it would get him laughed at. But he wasn't anywhere else but beneath her and she was very pleased with his effort. "Good," she murmured with a impish smirk, rewarding him with taking him inside of her.

Her hips shifted, she lifted on her knees and sank down upon him fully with a hum. One hand moved to rest on his chest for balance, the other moved to grip his wrist as he held her thighs, using the leverage to start rocking almost immediately, barely taking a moment to savor the feel of him inside of her again. And her pace was slow for now, each time she came down, she gave her hips a heavy roll, grinding down upon him.

He hummed, low and pleased, eyes dipping partway closed as she sank down on him again, his fingers tightening against her thighs just briefly as she did so, though they relaxed again once she settled into that steady movement.

The reprieve -slight as it had been- hadn't lessened his desire at all, but had at least taken him back from the edge, and now, well now she was doing her level best to push him right back towards it, and he found that he didn't have any objections to that at all.

Now that she had the leverage she needed, now that his hands weren't in her way, she made no attempts to keep them from moving, although she liked the way they gripped her thighs as she sank down upon him. Soft sounds spilled from her lips with every movement, soft moans and gasps, pleased hums as her hips sped up their movements. While his thrusts had been slow and deep, she kept her movements short and fast, keeping him deep inside of her as she stroked his body with hers.

At least, they were for a moment before she moved her hand to slide up his chest, fingers curling gently around his neck, the other on his shoulder, leaning over for even better leverage. There was something arousing how little he spoke, she imagined that Solo was insufferably chatty during sex, there was something more primal about Illya in these moments, something that stoked the fires within her, red hot. Although that was what made those muttered words, all the more hot to her.

He kept one hand at her thigh while the other slid up along her side as she leaned forward again. He angled his head up a little at that hand on his throat, making another low sound, pleased, even a little amused.

His hips gave a little roll up against her even as he said: "Harder." He wasn't going to specify, leave it up to her to decide whether he meant the movement of her hips or the grip of her hand, maybe a little of both.

Her smile turned even more wicked when he threw a command at her, soft hum escaping her lips in affirmation. Her hand pressed forward, her fingers curled tighter, harder as she moved to rock above him harder, quicker. Her hips rolled above his, her body bounced a lot harder, her breasts sliding against his chest with the effort.

"Like that?"

It got another one of those lowthroated sounds from him at any rate, hips rolling up against her once more and letting his shoulders settle back, chin still uplifted to give her just that much more space, "Doch, perfect."

It wasn't the kind of thing he generally encouraged, but he trusted her more than he trusted most people, even most lovers, and he certainly didn't regret it.

No matter how carried away she might get, she wouldn't do a thing to truly hurt him, even if she could. And because's about double her size, he could easily overpower her if she did try. She moaned with him, her lips curving into a breathless smile that probably was settled on her face for a while now, their bodies rocking together, the friction making her sweat and pant.

Lean in, she moved to nip at his jaw before she leaned back some, keeping her hand at his throat as she started to ride him with the sole purpose of making him come and yeah, maybe she might be climbing that edge herself.

Now that, that was even better and he couldn't help but smile up at her, managing to rock his hips up against her in counterpoint to her movements, rolling against her every second or third time, enough that he was panting before long, pulse thudding away against her fingers.

Even still, already on the brink himself he had the presence of mind to slide the hand at her thigh higher, enough that he could bump against her clit with the pad of his thumb, not any real sort of rhythm or pattern, just for the contact, just trying to push her over once more, knowing that feeling her coming against him would be more than enough to send him over as well.

The man was certainly attentive. And she wasn't about to complain about that. Especially when his hand moved between her thighs a bit more to touch her, to rub against that bundle of nerves that would surely send her over the edge. And that didn't take too long, not with the way they were both moving against one another, his thumb and the way she felt moving on top of him, in control but at his mercy at the same time.

Gasping, her whole suddenly went tense, her fingers tightening at his throat as pleasure roared through her, crashing into every nerve and sense she had. The next sound that came from her lips was shuddering exhalation of his name, her hips rocking still as she road out her orgasm, trying to coax him into his with her own clenching, pulsating body.

Just watching that would have been enough to send him over, but actually feeling it was amazing. His hands settled at her hips again, holding her in place as he rocked up against her twice more and most of a third time before he was coming as well, head tilting back, arching into the hand at his throat.

His fingers curled against her hips as he arched beneath her his own climax unraveling down his spine sudden enough that he actually pulsed inside her, twice, shuddering beneath her as he slowly came down from that peak, one hand sliding up along her back to draw her close once more.

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