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Post by SCOUT ELAYNA GREY on Sept 6, 2012 13:05:10 GMT -5
SHE COULD BE A JOAN OF ARC The consternation on his face as she refused to allow him to push her over the limits for a second time was as thrilling to her as the sensations he sent through her body. She put a finger to his lips as he asked her if she was alright, shaking her head to tell him to be silent. As they stood together, and she disrobed him so they stood facing one another with nothing between them, she saw the look flash over his handsome face. Uncertainty. It instantly threw her off, how his walls had come down, crashed down around her, and she sucked in a low breath. As soon as it showed, it disappeared and was replaced by that iron wall of determination he so well held between him and the rest of the world, but she had seen it. She wanted to reach up and tenderly take his face, to kiss him sweetly and tell him the world wasn't such a bad place, but the look was gone. he didn't need her comfort; he was Nixon Grey. However, it excited her that he was human underneath it all, and her heart beat rapidly as she pushed him onto the bed and began her ministrations on him.
He bucked and tensed at her hand, and she smiled to herself when he came down. She perched beside him on the bed, watching his face until his wild eyes rose to meet her. There it was. There was a beast in there, and she'd provoked him. Her nerves tingled with anticipation as those eyes raked her, and he growled that she had no idea what she'd gotten herself into. Leaning toward him so her lips were near his, she whispered challengingly, "I don't think you've got it in you."
As if to prove her wrong, he leapt at her, seizing his control once more, and she could almost imagine the feral yowl as he pinned her to the bed, knocking the wind from her lungs in a whoosh of passionate abandon. His knee slid between her legs, cold against the heat of her privates, and his other leg balanced him against her side. He leaned over her, completely in control as her arms were rendered useless by his hold, and he tauntingly whispered into her ear.
Part of her shivered at the words, shivered that she'd released such a wild creature, but the greater part of her thrilled at the rich sound of his voice, informing her of what he was going to do with her body. She was all his, and he knew it. She had been for hours now whether she liked it or not. "No man has ever been able to make me scream," she provoked, her mouth beside his ear as he hovered next to hers. "I doubt you can."
She smiled defiantly as he moved slightly so she could see his face. She knew she was pushing him beyond the limits, possibly beyond his control, but she didn't care. Her passions and desire were so intense as he rendered her impotent against his strength that she didn't care how rough it was. She dared him to push her past her own limits, farther than she'd ever been before. She didn't lie when she admitted no man had pleasured her until she screamed. She'd never had an experience like this one, an experience where just the touch of a man made her belly do flip-flops and set her nerves on fire. She didn't doubt he could get her to that peak, but she wanted him to work for it.
He surprised her by entering with no forewarning. She cried out and bucked against him, the pain rippling through her by the initial shock of the encounter. Still, as they connected, the pain washed away immediately and her body melded to him, savoring what she'd been waiting for since the party. She whined, naturally trying to pull her hands so she could wrap her arms around him, but he didn't relent. Her wrists remained firmly pinned to the bed, arousing her even more because she was helpless. Her fists clenched and her head drove backward into the bed as her mouth opened to release the sighs and cries of release. With no way to use her hands, she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his back to have leverage. She pulled against him even as he thrust forward, driving him deeper with her added strength.
Her eyes rolled back into her head and she moaned, the sound involuntarily escaping her throat. She'd been holding back for so long, so close to climax when he'd played with her before, that she didn't think she could last long. The stubborn streak in her refused to let her scream as he drove her into the bed, but her whole body had to fight the urge. As she stubbornly fought to keep herself quiet, she struggled to resist, but found her defenses falling. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, overwhelming her. She was growing close the point of no return.
"Nixon..." she groaned, her body tensing as another whine of desire left her throat. The sound of his name leaving her lips, the sound of her own voice so contorted with want, sounded so foreign to her she almost didn't recognize herself. She'd never heard herself that way, never felt the way she did as he drove into her. Sure, she'd had sex before, but this was different. This was like an acid trip: addictive, colorful, and overwhelming. The feel of him on top of her, holding her down, inside of her, it was all too much.
Against her own will, her throat loosened, and a desperate scream of ecstasy came from her lungs. It started low, pleading and plaintive, building to an crescendo along with the frantic rhythm of her body around his. Her breaths came loud and frenzied and she felt her body shut down around him, causing her to go stiff as the orgasm overtook her. She moaned, a deep sound in her throat as her head bucked back into the tousled blankets and her hands relaxed as her body collapsed, surrendering completely to the tidal wave of rapture crashed over her. WORDS 1086 TAGGED NIXON NOTES *WHIMPER* TEMPLATE BY WE WERE INFINITE ! OF CAUTION 2.0
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nixon mason grey
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
Don't get too close, it's dark inside.
Posts: 161
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Post by nixon mason grey on Sept 6, 2012 22:22:17 GMT -5
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Senseless Denial, We spun like birds on fire right down towards the residence and i I took all that I desired even crooks have to pay the rent We swam like rats on fire right, right down the reservoir We took all that we could carry but we tried to carry more Nixon was angry with himself, he was disappointed with himself. He had let his guard down, which was something that he never did. He had let his guard down in front of a young woman in which his trust didn't lay. That wasn't who he was and it scared him. He truly felt fear for the first time and that was because he was being who he wasn't. Nixon had laid a path out for himself. It was very clear, and it was very easy to follow. This girl, this woman, was not a part of his plan. He didn't trust her. Every fiber of his very being told him that she wasn't someone to trust. Yet he brought her to this home. He allowed his walls to fall without even realizing it and he knew it was because of her. All of these signs pointed to him staying away from her if he knew what was good for him. She could ruin him. Something inside of him told him that she was what could collapse and destroy everything that he had worked so hard to build up all of these years. But he couldn't get enough of her. He couldn't stop touching her, he didn't want to stop touching her. A moment without her wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that even now. He needed to take a step back from this situation. He needed to stop now. But he couldn't. His body, his passions, his heart, wouldn't allow him. His mind was thinking all of the right things, but his body wasn't obeying him.
He was too wrapped up in what she was making him feel, what she was making him do. No woman had been successful in taking over the situation like that before. He had always been the dominant, the one who took control of the situation. He made the decisions, he made the rules. It was what happened. It was what was supposed to happen. And yet here she was, calling the shots, tempting him with her words and her body. She had asked for this. That was what he had to keep telling himself. So as he climbed on top of her, he didn't worry. She had brought this upon herself. She hadn't said no, she hadn't shown any hesitation as he had. Her gentle touch, her fingers to his lips had told him that much. She didn't want him to talk about no, she wanted to do this. He had to remember that. Never before had he ever worried this much about what a woman wanted and it was just something else that made him wonder what in the world was going on. Nixon was facing a situation that he had no handle on and he wasn't taking that very long. Sucking in a breath as he let his passions take control now, he slammed into her, the cries coming from her only pushing him forward.
As her legs wrapped around him, his body shuddered from her touch. It was maddening, it was something that he couldn't get enough of. His groans and moans paralleled her own, matching her in tone and want. His breaths came short and fast as he only increased his pace with her help, feeling the orgasm building fast and hard inside of himself. But he couldn't release. That would show her that she had won. He would not allow himself to release before she did. So he worked her harder, stretching her further than she had ever been stretched, pushing her more than she had ever been pushed. He was working them both into a passionate frenzy, and as he felt himself nearing the orgasm that she was making him experience, his grey, nearly black eyes looked into hers. Her lips uttered his name, and it was in such a desirous manner that it made his skin tingle. The sweat was working its way over his body, making him slick and heady with the passion of the moment. He couldn't help himself. His lips parted to allow her name to escape his lips moments after she had spoken his. "Scout.." It was nothing more then a moan, nothing more than a pleading whisper to allow him what he desperately needed from her. He needed her to make him release, he needed her to give him what he had been desiring the entire evening. His lips met hers in that moment, his rhythm slowing only slightly to allow him to kiss her tenderly, passionately. His tongue found hers in an instant and he pulled her lips to him, gently nipping her lower one as he felt himself building all over again.
And then it happened. Her scream. A victorious smile flew onto his features as she screamed, but he didn't hold that smile for long. As she stiffened beneath him, he realized that he wanted to see her face. He wanted to see her eyes, he wanted to see her when she had her orgasm to know what she was feeling. He whispered into her ear now, needing her to know. "Look at me." He requested of her, his eyes finding hers as he found his release seconds after her. His hips bucked, and a series of groans and sharp breaths and gasps left his throat, his muscles tightening in his abdomen as he felt himself let go. He had never felt like this. He had never felt such release before. He shuddered, shivered as he finished, his body draped lazily but gently over his, feeling himself throbbing inside of her because of the moment. Her wet walls still clung to him in her orgasm and he could feel her chest heave beneath him as she struggled for her breath. Pushing his exhausted form up to hover her so that he could look into her eyes again. A wry but kind smile worked its way onto his face as he spoke to her. "Don't ever tempt me Scout." He whispered, sounding almost sorry for what he had just done to her. Leaning forward, he kissed her once more, tenderly, softly. Letting the kiss linger for a moment, he broke away from her and kissed her forehead before rolling to his back beside her. Pushing himself upwards, he gathered the covers around himself and her, his eyes hooded from his eyelids.
Exhausted, he gently pulled her to him, still needing to touch her. It was then that he realized he couldn't fall asleep. For some reason, she was arousing him all over again. "Oh for fuck's sake woman. Come on." He spoke out in frustration, but amused as well. Sitting up quickly, he tried to cover the hard on he had just received from merely touching her. He pulled her after him without explaining to her where they were going. Without another word, he opened the door, revealing the massive bathroom in front of them. The shower was floor to ceiling tile, the big double doors clear and see through. There was a large jacuzzi bath tub in the corner of the room, but he didn't need that right now. Leaving her outside the shower for a moment, he knew she'd see his boner and really couldn't prevent that right now. It was her fault anyway. He spun all of the shower nozzles available, which was a lot. Jets of water shot out from every which direction, and he looked back at her devilishly, leaning leisurely back against the wall. "So, are you completely spent, or can you show me another good time? Are you going to join me, or continue to stare, my dear Scout?" He questioned playfully, showing yet another side to himself. This was playful Nixon. This was a Nixon that wanted her to take control. This was the Nixon that he never showed anyone. He was giving her the upper hand. He was letting her play him, tease him, do whatever she pleased with him. And he found that he couldn't wait. He wanted her to have her way with him. "Your turn. Think you can handle it?" He looked over her body without restraint, knowing she was still his. But now, he wanted to be hers. He wanted her to direct him, to tell him what to do. He wanted her to whisper what she was going to do to him. He wanted her to have him. 908 words, outfit :: HERE, sorry it sucks so much! |
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Post by SCOUT ELAYNA GREY on Sept 7, 2012 8:30:02 GMT -5
SHE COULD BE A JOAN OF ARC When she heard her own name on his lips, that was what sent her over the edge. It was so sweet, so small and delicate and passionate, it tipped her control and she lost it. He kissed her then, a tender thing unlike anything she'd experienced before, and then she was gone. She lost the control she had over her body and her senses, and she was his. Her body tensed and she heard his voice again, insistent that she looked at him. So she did. The moment their eyes met, the grip on her wrists loosened as he lost control, losing his facade as his body flew into rapture. Instantly, her arms wrapped around him as he collapsed on top of her, her breaths coming ragged and fast as she felt him experiencing that ecstasy. The feeling of it, the throbbing and the waves of pleasure, made her tongue swell up and her heart beat so hard she thought it would burst any moment.
They laid there for a moment, catching their collective breath, before he shifted, looking down at her with his fiery gray eyes. That gaze did funny things to her insides, and the fluttering in her stomach made her swallow as he smiled at her. Biting her bottom lip, she smiled back as she heard his words, Don't ever tempt me, Scout. Her smile widened at the command, and she shook her head slightly at him. "Oh, I will," she retorted flirtaciously.
What was she saying? She surely didn't have plans to do this again? She knew it was insane to think she would ever see him again, but she also knew she wanted to. It would compromise her job, her life, but being around him made her feel alive. It wasn't just the cat and mouse game they had, it was something else she couldn't comprehend and didn't want to. He was a criminal, and she'd just had sex with him. It was the ultimate betrayal of who she was - who she was supposed to be - but the guilt she felt couldn't outweigh the pure desire she had just for him to see her. Just for him to see her as she was: a beautiful woman who he wanted. His desire for her made her want him even more, and she sighed to herself as she felt his lips on hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. Her arms tightened around his neck as she kissed him back, and she never wanted to release him but she knew she must.
When he broke away from her lips, his mouth brushed her forehead before he pulled out and rolled to his back. Her eyes snapped open, staring up at the ceiling as her sense of him beside her became a tangible thing. Suddenly, she felt very out of place as if he would somehow come to realize that she was a cop and out of her element. As if she was a meerkat in a lion's den. So, when he touched her to pull her to him, she instinctively tensed as if preparing for an attack, but it wasn't an attack at all. Instead, his eyes were heavily-lidded, and his chest heaved with exhaustion, and she saw that he was human. With all of his defenses, he was still just a man, and he had no idea how she was betraying herself or him.
She willingly went to him, sliding across the bed beneath the covers until her hot skin touched his, her leg naturally draping over him as she cuddled into his side. It wasn't a reluctant touch, but a need to touch him tenderly, a need to relieve her guilt and somehow prove to herself that she wasn't one of the most horrible people in the world. She had screwed her target, gotten her feelings involved, and she couldn't back out. Staying with him would only hurt him more in the long run (and herself), yet her growing addiction to him disallowed her from detaching. He was her drug, and only a catastrophic intervention could save her now.
His frustrated words woke her out of her daydreams. He sat up, pulling the blankets over his lap but allowing his chiseled torso to be fully visible. She frowned, unhappy he'd removed himself from her touch, but also confused as to his intentions. He ordered her to follow him, and she hesitated, but allowed him to pull her out of the bed. Partially stumbling after him, her mind still a mess of guilt and desire and confusion, she followed him to a second door in the room which he opened to reveal an exquisite bathroom. Sucking in a breath at the opulence of the place, she stood in stunned silence as he left her to turn on the shower. She admired the room, for once not finding herself casing it to remember for her investigation, just simply admiring. Her eyes landed on him, his shaped masculine form and his obvious arousal for her which made her smile and cover her mouth with a hand.
He expertly turned the knobs, the water jettisoning from the pipes, and then turned to look at her, a small wry smile on his handsome face. He was a viper, ready to strike her and poison her with his beauty, and she was a willing prey, wanting that poison even as she died from its power. She was pathetically, hopelessly infatuated with him, and as he asked her if she was just going to stare at him, she actually giggled. She couldn't remember the last time such an innocent sound had left her throat, but she felt herself blush ever so slightly, turning her cheeks a pretty shade of pink as she glided to the shower.
"I'm not sure, the view is pretty good from out here," she admitted, with a smile. She gracefully climbed into the shower, moving toward him through the water until she was standing directly in front of him, but not touching him. He openly admired her, and her heart beat rapidly as those gray eyes raked her. He brazenly wanted her to tease him, wanted her to play him as he'd done to her, but she was a woman. Although she wanted to indulge him, wanted to feel him swelling inside of her once more, her feminine mind wanted affection. It was stupid really. He was a clever man, a clever criminal, and she was standing her wanting him to touch her in the tenderest ways possible.
As he asked her if she thought she could handle it, she honestly wasn't sure that she could. She still wanted his touch, hungered for it as she looked down his body to his fingers that twitched by his sides as he calmly leaned against the wall, and her desire for those fingers to be on her skin was unbearable. But she didn't just want raw passion this time. She wanted tenderness, she wanted romance. Innately, she knew he was very capable of romance, she'd seen it in the way he asked her if she was sure before he rammed her, and she wanted to test his limits.
Without a word, she reached toward him, the tips of her fingers touching his chest and slowly, gently, running down his pecks to his abs. Her eyes watched her hands until they flattened and ran around his back, pulling her to him, and then she looked up into his eyes. She knew her raw need for him showed plainly on her face, but she didn't care. It wasn't as if she could fight it this far into the game anyhow. Her hands roamed his back before she slipped out from beneath his arms to run her hands up his biceps to his shoulders, outlining the shape of his strong body. She reached his face, and her fingers played over the perfect stubble there, her thumb tracing over his lips until her hands ran up into his hair. Feeling his cock between her legs as she pressed her body to his, the water from the shower running down the rivets in their bodies, she lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his lips. It was gentle, almost tentative at first, questioning if she was allowed to be tender with him. Then she kissed him harder, desperate to feel him just want to kiss her, to want to draw her up into his arms and show her that affection she hungered so desperately for.
Perhaps an hour later, when the water had run cold, she found herself back in his bed, slightly damp from the water, with her heart beating in tempo with the desire which had swollen fresh between her legs. She lay beside him, her lips melding with his as her legs wrapped over him, inviting him into her once more. They would have sex again, but this time it would be sweet and sensual, more an act of lovemaking than she'd ever experienced.
Scout didn't realize she'd fallen asleep with him until she awoke to sunlight streaming around the edges of the curtains hanging across the window she hadn't been able to see in the fog of her lust and the dim lighting of the night before. Her eyes slowly opened, confused at first as to where she was. She twisted her head to look around the room as the memories of the night before came flooding back to her. That was when she realized she was wrapped in Nixon's arms, his powerful biceps rested on her upper arm as his hands held her to his chest. The feeling of his warm breath on her neck, as his head nestled into her, made her heart beat increase. She was, once again, a clusterfuck of emotions as she realized he'd fallen asleep with her in his arms. Her heart swelled with the romance of the idea - he hadn't kicked her out on the street the moment he'd finished with her - but her head reeled from the implications. She was literally entangled in the grip of her enemy, whether he knew it or not, and she both liked it and feared it. He had the means and the money to easily end her if he found out who she really was, and he was sleeping with her in his arms. It physical imagery was almost too much for her to handle.
Somehow, she managed to squirm out of his grasp, sliding off the bed soundlessly to retrieve her clothes. She pulled on her black underwear and affixed her bra to her without making much noise. Gathering her white flapper dress and hair clip, she picked up her shoes and looked back at him, her heart close to bursting at how innocent and handsome he was asleep. He was handsome when he was awake, obviously, but the pure, unadulterated innocence of sleep was beautiful on him. She knew she would fall in love with that face if she stayed any longer.
Leaving the room, she struggled not to cry, feeling more like the criminal than he was as she tried to sneak out without telling him goodbye. He wouldn't care anyway, right? He would hate her when he woke up. Even if he didn't know she was a cop, he'd find out, and then she was done for. She would never feel his hot body against hers, or his burning touch against her skin. She closed her eyes as she slipped her dress on over her head and stood silently in the hallway, fighting the urge to cry. She wanted him so badly, but he was something that would never be hers. Her blond curls, softened by the shower until they flowed in their natural, soft way, fell around the sides of her face as she bent over to place her shoes on the floor, moving to slip her feet into them. She would just escape before he woke up and could miss her, and then she could just avoid him for the rest of her life, right?
She knew she was wrong even before the thought got out of her mind good. She would never escape him. Even if she never saw him again until her dying day, she would always dream about those hands, the feel of him inside of her, the raw fervor she felt when he looked at her. WORDS 2057 TAGGED NIXON NOTES shower, sleep, breakfast, done. TEMPLATE BY WE WERE INFINITE ! OF CAUTION 2.0
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nixon mason grey
CRIMINAL
PLAYED BY MELON
Don't get too close, it's dark inside.
Posts: 161
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Post by nixon mason grey on Sept 7, 2012 11:20:34 GMT -5
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Senseless Denial, We spun like birds on fire right down towards the residence and i I took all that I desired even crooks have to pay the rent We swam like rats on fire right, right down the reservoir We took all that we could carry but we tried to carry more He couldn't come down from this high. He wasn't sure that he wanted to stop feeling the absolute euphoria that she graced upon him. His stomach was fluttering with the feelings that she made him experience, and his arousal from before had been fed by her body, by her ministrations. In that moment, Nixon Grey had lost control of himself. It was something that had never happened before. He had always come back after his release. He was always able to take a situation and handle it, and usually bring the girl home after their sexual encounter. This time he didn't want to do that. For some reason he wanted her to stay, he wanted to see how many times they could reach that release together. Taking a deep breath as he remained on top of her, he did his best to regain himself. He was absolutely, positively, one hundred percent hers. She had all of him right now, and he didn't know if she knew that. He had never willingly given himself to someone, and while he wasn't sure how willingly he had given himself to her, he knew that it was different. She could do whatever she wanted to him right now and he would allow her to do it.
That was why he needed to do something else. The lack of control that he had over himself was frightening. He was a man with power and confidence. And right now, he felt like he had been stripped of both of this qualities. He was nothing right now and he couldn't be that. He couldn't be nothing. It wasn't something that he could handle and it scared him senseless. Taking a deep breath, he tried to slow his racing heart but the panic that filled him was insatiable. She couldn't fix this problem because he couldn't tell her who he was, what he did. He couldn't tell her that he was a criminal, that he was a fraud. No one knew the truth about Nixon. Only his closest employees did, his partners. And even then that was way too much for his liking, but he couldn't do anything about that if he wanted to be successful. The fact that he had let his walls down, the fact that he had let his guard down for her to see even a sliver of the real him was something that scared him now. He usually never felt fear, but he had never allowed a girl to become this close to him, this close to his heart. He had never worried about another's well being the way that he worried for hers. He never thought about wanting to please a woman in this fashion...it was all about his pleasure and what he desired. He was a selfish human being, and distrusting to boot. That combination left women not wanting to stay with him, to become close to him and that was how he desired it. This was different.
The fact that she was so addicted to his touch was something that confused him. Never before had he brought such pleasure to a woman. Of course he knew how, and of course he brought them pleasure, but not to this level. It was as if she couldn't get enough of him, and he couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to keep touching her until it was physically impossible to do so. This need inside of him, this burning desire to never stop being near her was something that he didn't understand. So as he sat up, realizing that he was aroused all over again, he was frustrated. He had always been able to control himself before. He had always been able to turn his body off when he needed to remove the girl from his presence. But this wasn't happening this time. He was smitten in a way and it both enthralled and angered him. Not with this girl. Why did it have to be her? He didn't trust her. He didn't know if he could ever trust her. He needed to perform his background checks in order to make himself feel better. He didn't know what was going through his head, but he couldn't even think straight. So as he pulled her from the bed, he only had one thing on his mind. Sex worked for them. It was what they both most desired, so he felt the need to keep doing it.
As he stood in the shower and taunted her, he could only smile slightly at her words. "Well, by all means, you're welcome to admire. But the view is much better from close up." He teased her, watching her with a playful expression on his face. She did things to him, made him into a man that he might want to be. This playful side was something that he had never experienced before and it was both thrilling and confusing. This entire affair confused the fuck out of him but he was trying to ignore that right now. He couldn't be bothered with the emotions that he couldn't solve at the moment. As she stepped towards him, his eyes followed her every move, her every step. As she got closer to him, he sucked in an involuntary breath, wondering what she was going to do to him. What she wanted him to do, what she wanted to do with him was something that surprised him. She didn't pounce on him. Her hands touched him, but in a way that sent shivers up and down his body. He trembled at her sensual touch, his stomach muscles clenching all over again with the need and desire he felt for her. It was just from her simple touch, but this touch was different. He felt like she was exploring him, trying to find a weakness, to try to find something wrong. He watched her hands now as they traveled from his chest to his abdomen, around to his back, skirting around the one area that so desperately called for her attention. But she ignored it. Furrowing his brow as she just continued to touch him, he was taken by surprise as she gently pulled him towards her.
His arousal was hard between her legs, but he didn't push himself into her. He knew that it wasn't what she wanted yet. She wanted to continue to explore him, and for some reason, he was allowing her to. He so desperately prayed she didn't find anything wrong with him. He didn't want her to find any blemishes, anything that would turn her away from him. As she touched him, his breaths came short and fast, audible over the water that was pouring down on them. Blinking the moisture from his eyes, he kept watching her hands, studying them as they made their way up his biceps and to his shoulders. Tensing as her fingers moved to his face, his grey eyes finally lifted to look into her blue. His lips parted slightly from the breaths that he was taking, and his heart was beating wildly. He didn't know what she wanted from him. He didn't understand why she was touching him in this fashion, but as her fingers traced his lips, he felt himself wanting her all over again. From her touch alone, she brought a moan from deep within him, desperate and heady with want and desperation. She was driving him crazy with her hands and she hadn't even touched him where he needed her to yet. His body was still shaking, still trembling in her arms, for he didn't understand what she was doing to him. He didn't understand what she was requiring him to do and it scared him. Fear filled his eyes for a moment at his lack of knowledge, at her fear of finding some flaw that would make her turn and run.
And for the second time that evening, his walls had fallen simply because of her touch. She could see that inside, Nixon Grey was not some heartless bastard only looking for a thrill. He was a man, a broken man...a man that needed saving even if he didn't know it himself. She couldn't be the one to save him though, not if he was allowed to have an opinion. That would mean she would need to know the truth. Desperation filled him at that moment, and then she kissed him. Losing himself in the tender, tentative kiss she placed up his lips, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, letting her know that this was alright. Her tenderness was allowed and even welcomed even though it confused the shit out of him. Scared in this moment, he gave in to her wants and her desires, being completely tender with her as he kissed her in return. His breath was still short and fast, but he slowed himself to kiss her the way that she wanted to be kiss.
And it was now that he realized he wanted to keep touching, he wanted to keep exploring. Pulling away from her kiss, he followed what she had done to him, his strong hands sliding across her wet body because of the water pouring down around them. First they started at her chest, skipping lightly over her breasts, feeling her nipples harden beneath his fingers. He didn't smile at what he did to her for this was something that he needed. Something he desired. His hands slid gently, slowly to her stomach, massaging her softly, his eyes never leaving his hands. His brow was furrowed as he explored her in a way that he had never explored a woman before. When he brought one home it was all about the sex. This was completely different and unique and while it threw him, he welcomed it. Slowly still, he lifted his hands from her stomach, following the contours of her arms, stopping at the base of her neck, still watching his hands. His thumbs played across her collar bone, and slowly, softly, he brought his hands to cradle her face. His eyes finally met hers and it was then and there that she could see the confusion, the desperation to understand what was happening inside of him. His walls were still down and that was what allowed him to be the romantic that she needed and desired now. Sucking in a breath as he traced her lips, he finally leaned forward, finding contentment in the kiss that he bestowed upon her.
When they finally made it back to his bed, he was surprised when her lips met his with new fervor. This time it would be different. This time it was going to be soft and gentle, romantic even. As she wrapped her legs around him, he allowed himself entry, slowly, softly. The moans that left his lips were sensual and passionate, the sweet murmurings that left his lips honest and true. And when he released again, he released her name in that breathy whisper, losing control of all that he was.
And when they were finished, Nixon lay with her in his arms, his breathing still fast, but becoming shallow as they relaxed together. As she fell asleep in his arms he studied her, his grey eyes watching her. The innocence that filled her now was something that he could never hope to understand. He was a monster, someone who could never be defined by innocence. Furrowing his brow, he remained awake through most of the night, only closing his eyes when he could see the sunrise through the curtains. He finally drifted to sleep, the confusion still running through his mind at high speed. He kept her close, snuggling into her beneath the covers that brought them warmth. Sighing softly, he relaxed as he fell, sleeping even when she stirred beside him. He didn't feel her move, he didn't hear her dress herself, and he didn't sense her leaving the room. But somehow, something urged him awake, and he awoke with a start, flying up to sit upright in bed. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he realized that she was gone, and worry flew through him. What had happened to her? Springing from his bed, he didn't bother with boxers, and simply pulled a pair of grey pajama pants on.
Slipping effortlessly from the room, he nearly ran into her as she bent over to put her shoes on. His grey eyes softened immediately, but the sight of her didn't slow his racing heart. As she straightened, he wordlessly appeared behind her, his arms going to encircle her, his hands slowly clasping her in his grip. She wasn't trapped by all means, but it was an insinuation that she stay. "Stay for a moment. Let me cook you breakfast. It's only right." He whispered in her ear, his lips going to kiss up the line of her neck, nipping her skin in the areas that he knew would help convince her the most. When he had her convinced, he spun her in his arms, his lips meeting hers tenderly once more, like the kiss she had so desired from him last night. Pulling away all too soon, he looked into her eyes for a moment, and then took her hand. "Come on. What do you want? I have everything..." He explained, leading her into his expansive, beautifully decorated kitchen. He started pulling ingredients from the fridge and the cabinets, pans and pots from the drawers. Looking at her, his eyes lit with excitement, he waited for her response. 908 words, outfit :: HERE, sorry it sucks so much! |
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Post by SCOUT ELAYNA GREY on Sept 7, 2012 15:43:07 GMT -5
SHE COULD BE A JOAN OF ARC The way he reacted to her touch was thrilling beyond belief. It made her already dizzy head spin faster as she saw him quiver at the slightest touch from her. The naughty side of her wanted to pick at this vulnerability, but the stronger side of her wanted to revel in it. He was as done in by her touch as she was by his. They had an even footing once more. His breathing sped up, his muscular chest heaving with each breathe as her body pressed against him and her fingers roamed him. He was liking it, and she smiled slightly to herself. It wasn't a victorious smile, but a happy one, pleased that she had such an effect on him. Her hands moved to his face and he looked at her, and she felt her heart do a backflip at the pure look of longing in his eyes. She never believed a person could tell so much through their eyes until she looked into that gaze. Pressed up against him as she was, she could feel his heart beating against her breast, matching hers in its race.
He moaned from the simple touch of her as her thumb ran over his mouth, and she sucked in a breath to calm herself. It was all so simple, so heady, that it drove her mad with want for him. He shook slightly, his muscles jumping as he struggled to control himself. She knew without knowing that he wouldn't jump her this time. He wanted to feel her as badly as she wanted to feel him, wanted her to explore him. When his eyes opened as her hands went into his hair, unadulterated fear looked down at her, and she balked inwardly at the look. Why was he afraid of her? This man, this criminal she'd seen be so callous to her at the club, a man who could undercut his competitors and slice their necks (figuratively speaking) to get what he wanted, was actually afraid. And it was just a simple touch, but she understood. He was afraid to feel so fervently for someone, even if it was only a physical thing. She felt the same way.
The way her body reacted to him, hungered for him, was unnatural. She'd never done drugs, but she knew, if she had, this was what it would have felt like. She was addicted to the danger and conflict that radiated off of him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame who would inevitably be snuffed out by the fire. His gray eyes held so much tragedy, her throat clenched as if she was about to cry. He was so broken, she saw that now, and she had to kissed him, so she did.
He kissed her back, deepening the kiss, and his arms around her pulled her tightly against him, lifting her ever so slightly from her feet. Water dripped from her toes onto the tile beneath her feet before he set her back on her feet and pulled out of the kiss. His eyes roved her as his hands moved from her waist and went to her chest. His fingers danced over her breasts, causing her nipples to harden immediately as he passed them, moving on to other things. He touched her stomach now, his fingers digging gently into her skin to massage the tissue before he moved to her arms. She watched him intently the entire time, as he watched his hands and her body. His brow was drawn down in concentration, and she marveled at his fascination with her as water dripped from her nose and soaked her hair, making it stick to her back. The way he looked at her turned her on and made funny things happen to her chest, but she didn't act on it. She patiently watched as he continued to explore her.
Running his hands up her arms, he gently outlined her collar bone, his hands moving precisely to cup her face. He looked at her then, and her knees went weak with the potpourri of emotions flashing across his infinitely gray eyes. His hands held her face as he leaned in to kiss her, and she met him halfway, pressing her lips to his lips and her body to his body.
Scout had no idea he'd watched her sleep for hours after she fell asleep in his arms, but the soft whisper of her name from his lips as they'd melded together that last time rang in her ears like a sweet song. She closed her eyes as she slipped her shoes onto her feet, imagining his voice in her ears and feeling as if she might cry. She didn't want to leave; she wanted to stay so badly, but she couldn't. It was all wrong; they were the foils of one another: she the good cop and him the criminal. She couldn't be infatuated with him, couldn't want to sleep with him every chance she had, couldn't want to explore him over and over again until she was tired of it (which would never happen).
She was facing the front door as she stood, steeling herself to just leave when Nixon was suddenly behind her. She sucked in a surprised breath, tensing in preparation for an attack, but she instantly knew she was mistaken. He held her to him gently, not forcefully, and she could feel his heart beating against her back as he pulled her into him. She didn't fight him - she couldn't have even if she wanted to - but instead melted into his touch, her eyes closing as she felt his stubble on the side of her neck as he placed his face beside her own. Stay for a moment. Let me cook you breakfast. Words she never imagined to hear from him: the almighty, evil Nixon Grey. She moaned quietly in her throat, wanting to refuse him but knowing it was futile. Even if she wanted to - and she certainly didn't want to - she couldn't leave. He would insist she stay, and she didn't have the will to fight him.
Her hands slid over his, accepting his hold around her, and she smiled in spite of herself as he kissed her neck, nipping playfully at her skin. "Is that what you tell all the girls?" she asked teasingly, her voice betraying her as it broke. She didn't want to think about him with other women even though she was well aware of his philandering. Perhaps he was a gentleman when it came to his bed, and he allowed all of them to fall asleep and sneak away in the morning. Maybe he showered them with affection and then sent them on their way.
She highly doubted it.
But she couldn't be so foolish as to think she was a special case. Still, she remembered his eyes in the shower, in his bed thereafter, and a small part of her knew she was the only one with special privileges. His lips on her neck caught her attention, and her knees went weak and she giggled. The second giggle of her life.
"Okay. Okay!" she surrendered, turning in his arms as he gently directed her around to face him. He was shirtless and breathtaking, and she bit her bottom lip as she turned and saw him for the first time since he'd awoken. She would be the first person to see him today, and the thought, however sappy and corny, was delicious to her. "I'll stay as long as you promise not to kill me with your cooking," she half-joked, knowing he could easily do just that sobering only when he pulled her to him and leaned in for a kiss.
It was soft and sweet, like a lover kissing his beloved, and she broke. Her heart broke into a million pieces, and she simultaneously felt like the biggest fraud in the history of existence and the most loved girl in the entire world. The way he did these things to her - even if it was all a show - thoroughly satiated and hungered her, always leaving her pleased but wanting more. The sweetness he was capable of was unfathomable, and her arms naturally encircled his neck, the familiarity of the previous night dumping over her at the touch of his lips.
He pulled back all too early, and she pouted openly as he removed her hand and took it in his own, dragging her back into the house and toward the kitchen. It was through the living room, down the hallway past the bedroom, and it was as amazing as the rest of the place. She was stunned by the sheer enormity of the condo, and she tried not to gape as he directed her to a seat at the bar and rounded it to begin pulling ingredients from the fridge. Amused as he began pulling pots and pans out, all the while dressed in nothing but gray pajama pants (an image that did nothing to calm her already fast-paced heart), she watched him with a small smile on her face. She twirled a bit of golden hair around her index finger, sitting up at attention when he asked her what she wanted.
"Um... scrambled eggs is fine?" she said, shrugging her shoulders. She hated people serving her, it made her feel awkward and useless, but she could tell by his childlike excitement that he actually wanted to do this for her. Unable to stand just sitting around while he cooked, she kicked off her shoes and sighed, jumping down from the bar stool and rounding the bar until she was beside him. "Isn't there anything I can help you do?" she asked, listlessly. "I hate feeling useless," she admitted. Sticking out her bottom lip in a playful pout, she turned her back to the counter and slid up onto the granite top, swinging her feet and watching him with a coy look in her blue eyes. "I make really good toast, you know." It was true, she was a sad excuse for a woman and couldn't cook anything more complicated than a Pop-tart. WORDS 1687 TAGGED NIXON NOTES *pleased* TEMPLATE BY WE WERE INFINITE ! OF CAUTION 2.0
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