bakerstreet | Sunday Smutty Sunday

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.

There was no fight in her any longer, the moment he reached up to draw her to him, she moved, her hand slipping from his neck after she was sure he was well and coming. Her hands fell on to either side of his chest, between his arms and sides. Panting softly, she tried her best to kiss him, although it was more of a breathless slide of her lips against his.

With a triumphant smile, she let her hips roll a few more times, the movement weak in her post-climatic haze, feeling victorious having made him come with her. Slumping, she moved to lay her cheek against his chest for a moment, just struggling to catch her breath.

"If this is the result, I think maybe I should make you jealous more often." He said once his own breathing had settled enough for him to find his voice again, amusement lacing through the statement, fingers tracing idle patterns against the back of her neck and up into her hair just scratching gently at her scalp now and again.

It was right about then that the picture above the dresser finally gave up the ghost, crashing down from the wall and leaving Illya laughing, muffling it against Gaby's shoulder.

"I cannot promise I will be so nice next time," she said back, giving him a feigned stern look before she lets out an amused breath, lifting her head to look at him. The painting comes crashing down and it earns both of their laughter, after she jumps a little. However, she laughs with him, her body shaking above his, with his. "I hope that wasn't a real Picasso."

He snorted in response, shaking his head, "No, it was not, even I could tell that much." They didn't need Solo and his forger's expertise to know something like that.

He tried -and failed- to bite back another smile as he added: "And I wouldn't blame you for being less nice. I would probably deserve it."

She moved to lift herself up onto her palms, giving him another look, one that was a mixture of amusement and a challenge. "And what would you do if I were to make you jealous."

He tilted his head a little, studying her, letting one arm fold behind his head while the other traced idle patterns along her arm, "First I would ask how you plan on doing such a thing."

He knew that people, other men in particular, tended to steer clear of her if he was in the vicinity and even looked like he might be with her.

"Oh, so do you not find me charming?" Her expression turned less amused for a moment, her eyebrows lifting in accusation. "Do you not think that other men do not find me alluring?" Of course, she knew he was quite good at intimidating people just by being there but she though she might be able to manage to convince more than one man to go away with her. "I believe you have forgotten about that Texas Oil Tycoon who offered to marry me."

"I haven't forgotten." He replied, "Though I seem to remember that he offered to marry you because he thought you were a steel magnate's daughter, recently orphaned, still in mourning."

Her cover hadn't been that in depth, but he'd kept making assumptions and it had been easier for her not to correct him.

"But no, I don't doubt you could charm someone, eventually." Truthfully he doubted it would take that long, because most of the reasons he found her charming were the same reasons other people did.

"Eventually," she scoffed at him. "Eventually." She said again, this time mocking his accent. "He wanted to marry me because he wanted to bed me. And because he found me charming. The inheritance was an added bonus to him."

"And also because I was not there to interrupt." He replied, along with another smile, one hand having slipped around to the small of her back, just kneading gently there, "So perhaps sooner than 'eventually' if I'm not there as an intimidation." He conceded, amusement still coloring his tone, taking some of the sting out of the statement as he hadn't meant there to be any there in the first place.

"You are hardly intimidating," she teased him, letting things slip back into levity for now, her ruffled feathers settling. "I quite enjoy you." She smirked, "I believe I just did a fine job of 'conquering' you."

He made a quiet sound of agreement at that, fingers running down and back along her spine as if petting a standoffish cat, "That you did, and I don't intimidate you because you know me."

Despite the fact that he'd only barely intimidated her when she didn't know him.

"I know you very well," she murmured, stretching a little like a cat above him, her lips brushing against his chest for a moment before she moved to sit up with a groan, with the intention of rolling off of him... eventually. For now, she enjoys the view of him beneath her, his hair wild, his cheeks a little ruddy. She can only imagine she looks even wilder, her skin still flushed, her perfectly pinned hair a mess, her lips kiss-swollen.

Honestly it was a look he very much liked on her, and his hands settled at her hips, just rubbing gentle circles there with his thumbs, humming briefly, "You do." He replied, smile emerging once more, as small as it usually was, but just as genuine, because that had been his point.

He wasn't intimidating to her because she no longer saw him as a threat.

She climbed that man like a tree and successfully made him unravel, it was hard to find him intimidating or threatening. That had to be clear with the way she smiled down at him, hesitating in her efforts to move off of him given that she liked the way he was rubbing circles into her skin. "I do."

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