bakerstreet | Smut and Pics

She does it without even a word of protest. Up until this point, he's always treated her like she's special, precious. Which she is. He's gentle, he takes her to bed to make love to her slowly.

So this is... new. Different.

"Yes," he says, his voice quiet and rough. "If you're all right?" Is this okay? He doesn't want her to be uncomfortable. He wants her to feel special and cherished and perfect. He also wants to give her as much pleasure as it's in him to give.

Cullen will learn now — if he hasn't already — that despite Lioriley's size, she is a lot tougher than she looks. She also trusts him with her life, knows that he would never hurt her no matter what ridiculous thing they may do in bed (or in this case, on the desk).

"More than all right." She wiggles her hips pointedly, and if he cared to take notice, she was already incredibly wet from what little they had done so far. She presses her cheek to the cool wood, her eyes shifting to the side to try and see him from this angle. If this is what he wants, and if this is what pleases him, but she has no doubt that she will enjoy it just as much.

"You are... remarkable," he manages to point out, running a hand down her back and over her rear end. And then he pulls away to strip out of the rest of his clothing. He knows she doesn't want to wait, and neither does he, but he also wants to feel her skin against his, nothing between them.

He stays just a bit out of her sight, so she can't quite see what he's doing or where he is. And also, he wants to look at her.

"Would you... spread your legs more?" he suggests quietly as he works at the buttons of his shirt.

"You flatter me." she chuckles, spine arching when she feels the touch of his fingers against her back. Once again her gaze shifts upward — but this time she cannot see him entirely. The elf practically whines, shifting like she's going to move. What is he doing? She can hear fabric shifting, buttons popping. Maybe if she just lifts her head up a little —

Ah, but another command is given and she has to oblige. Her body shifts and her legs spread a little wider. Another whine.

Maker, he should feel bad, for exposing her like this. Like wanton. But the little sounds she's making, the way she looks, flushed and spread for him, it's unbelievably arousing.

He tosses aside the last of his clothes, and before she can turn her head to look, he's pressing against her bottom, using his hand to guide his cock to her entrance.

"Maker's breath, you're so wet," he groans into her ear, teasing her folds with the head of his cock.

"Oh—!" A sharp gasp, surprised by the sudden weight upon her back and the familiar feeling of his cock pressing between her legs. The elf instinctively rubs back against him, one hand raised so she can press her palm against his cheek.

"You do such — such incredible things to me." She murmurs, toes curling, "Please, Cullen."

He's always gentle, careful. Takes his time, to savor her, and make sure he doesn't cause her pain. He's not really any bigger than average for a human, he doesn't think, but she is an elf, and thus rather smaller than average by human standards.

So, he's always gentle, always careful, but right here and now, he finds himself not wanting to be. He's got her bent over his desk, and when she says please like that, he growls. Growls.

And then he rocks his hips into her, sheathing himself fully in one swift motion, the force of it jerking her against the desk. "Ah," he manages, against her shoulder, a sound of pure bliss to be buried inside.

The sound he makes is almost primal, and it sends another shiver down her spine. Not one of fear — no, never of fear — but of anticipation for what is to come. And what comes is incredible.

She's so used to the soft, gentle, and slow lovemaking that she honestly doesn't expect him to slam into her so hard. And though there's a soft grunt of pain as her body rocks forward against the edge of the desk, and his cock buries itself in her to the hilt, there's a very distinct sound of pleasure that echoes off the walls of the small office. Her fingers curl against the top of the desk, the other still pressed to his cheek as she rolls herself back against him.

His breath is ragged, and he's barely even moved. But he's going to. Oh, is he going to. Just as soon as -

"All right?" he manages, smoothing a hand down her side, around to her belly. "Do you like this?" He has to make sure. What he wants is her pleasure.

"Mhm." She manages, unable to form words for those first few seconds. The way her body trembles should be evidence enough of her enjoyment, but once she manages to compose herself enough, she verbally confirms it: "I love it." needy, wanting, she rocks back against him again despite knowing she can't push him in any further at this point.

He has to ask. He would never forgive himself if he ever did something to cause her discomfort.

But her words are an affirmation, and he moans helplessly into her hair. And then he starts to move. He pulls out nearly all the way, until only the head of his cock is in her - and then rocks back in to the hilt with a grunt. If he could, he would remind her that she has only to ask, if there's something she wants - he's told her before but he likes reminding her. But there's no way he can find words right now, so he leaves it, and focuses on the downright obscene sounds their bodies make as his hips slam against hers again. And again.

As of this moment she wants for nothing. The feeling of Cullen repeatedly pressing into her is enough to content her, and even if she did want something more she herself cannot fathom the words for all she tries. They come out instead in sharp gasps, loud moans that she is certain people could hear if they drew close enough to the office doors.

She lets her chest rest against the desk again, her hand moving to press her knuckles against her mouth to try and stifle herself. The other shifts back, blindly fumbling for one of Cullen's hands and hoping to take it in her own as they continue to move in tandem. Skin slaps skin, and the desk jerks back and forth each time her body knocks into it.

Perhaps later, he would be embarrassed by the noise she's making - by the noise they are making. But right now, in this moment? He wants her to moan. He wants her to scream her pleasure for all to hear.

Later, he might feel disconcerted at the memory of this feeling.

He growls, and bites down at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, even as his hand slides lower on her belly - now covered with hers. It's so erotic, guiding her hand to where his cock is sliding in and out of her.

He bites her neck and she bites her own knuckles, threatens to draw blood with the force of it. Instinctively her hand retracts, and Cullen will easily get his wish to hear her cry out in pleasure. This time it's not just a wordless moan, but the utterance of a single word — a name, actually: "Cullen!" She cries, back arched sharply, muscles taut around his cock.

She feels him moving her hand down, but she's so dazed from the feeling of him slamming into her — often times hitting that sweet spot — that she doesn't really register what is happening until she feels his cock sliding against her fingers. She splays her fingers against herself, just relishing in the feeling of his cock as it slides in and out, covered in both of their fluids. Then, she bends one finger and presses it to her clit, rubbing furiously.

Oh, he likes that. His name, on her lips, as though it's all she can think to say. And now, she's touching herself, and he likes that even more.

"Yes," he encourages, his voice low and rough, wanting to drive her higher and higher, all the way to her peak. "Come for me."

She whines as if in protest — surely she could not come on command, just like that. But with his vigorous thrusts, her trembling fingers on that sensitive ball of nerves, and just the way he sounds, she very well might be able to manage it.

A few more seconds pass and she feels it, her body dipping over the edge as a wave of pleasure rushes over her. Her tiny frame trembles almost violently as she comes, nails digging into his desk and she will surely feel bad about it later, when she realizes the marks she may be leaving. Now, though? She doesn't care. She's too lost in the sensations, tightening around him again and moaning even louder than before.

There is nothing as good as the feeling of Lioriley coming around his cock. The way her inner walls tighten like a vice, wave after wave of it, is intoxicating, and he never wants it to end.

He keeps moving, his thrusts becoming erratic as she trembles beneath him. When he comes, his eyes fall shut as he buries himself as deep in her as he can, little sparks of light behind his eyelids as he moans her name. His body trembles with the force of it.

All the more sensitive after her own climax, the feeling of Cullen's following soon after is utterly euphoric. She moans again, almost weakly, fingers still gripping at the surface of the table desperately. By now she's bent all the way forward, her cheek pressed to the now warmed wood of the desk.

Her hips roll languidly, riding out his orgasm with him until they both come to a stop. It's only then that she finally speaks, "That was incredible."

Once he's spent, it's all he can do not to simply crush her against the desk, as boneless as he feels in the wake of his pleasure. He keeps bracing himself on one hand, using the other to brush her hair off her neck.

"Amazing," he agrees after a few moments to catch his breath. "You are amazing."

She raises her hand, returning it to its previous position against his cheek. With the other, she makes a vague attempt to lift herself up, leaning back against him just enough to tilt her head and kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I could say the same of you, my love." And she would, all the time if she had the chance.

He kisses her temple, in turn, before finally pulling away from her with reluctance. "I can't say I've ever, uh. Done that before," he admits with a bit of sheepishness, now that the overwhelming lust and passion have worn off a bit.

Now that she's no longer pinned between Cullen and the desk, the elf turns to face him, arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely. They're both covered in sweat but who the hell even cares.

It takes her a moment to even realize what he's saying, her head tilted curiously, "You have never...?" A beat, "Oh! I — Well... I am flattered to be the first." She hopes she's the last, too. Her cheeks darken, tinted red with embarrassment. Getting pounded out while bent over the Commander's desk sure wasn't embarrassing, but apparently knowing that she was the only one to do so sure was.

Cullen chuckles faintly, pulling her closer. No, he doesn't mind the sweat at all. Or the other things their lovemaking produced, for that matter. He kisses her lips sweetly.

"In bed and gentle is generally how I try to do it, but..." He looks a bit sheepish. Because not in bed and not gentle turned out to be very nice, too.

"I like it when you are rough." She says quickly — almost too quickly. She ducks her head down, burying her face against his shoulder, "Do not get me wrong, I enjoy your gentility as well, but I also like it when you are so... so..." the next word is whispered: "Possessive."

"I liked it, too," he admits. Oh, he would never treat her with anything less than the utmost respect, but that wasn't disrespect. Not when they both enjoyed it so thoroughly.

"Is that something like what you came here for?" he asks, smiling faintly. Obviously, she wanted to suck his cock - but he's pretty sure she mentioned wanting to do a few things.

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