Fevered

byd4rk4ngel©

Throwing her against the wall, he crashed into her, anchoring her arms over her head with one of his forearms, leaning against her with all of his weight. He felt her struggle with something between amusement and frustration. It pissed him off to know that she would dare fight something they both wanted this bad. Something their flesh NEEDED so deeply. But fight she did, and she fought hard, almost as though she meant it. He pulled back to look into her eyes, to see if there was fear or loathing or hatred in her eyes. There was not. Heat. God, such heat. Playing his fingertips along the sides of her chest, then letting his nails bite slightly at her hip, pulling her against him. "This... this is exactly where you belong" slipping his hand around to the small of her back, moving the other to the back of her knee, bending it so she would have no doubt of his intention, "and this is what you need." He moved his hips just slightly, just barely nudging her with his cock.

The hand under her knee traced the length of muscle in her thigh, pushing her skirt higher as it went, his fingertips grazing the very edge of her panties. "And this is where the game ends." She glared at him through her eyelashes, nearly daring him to take one more liberty. He laughed at that, at her fucking audacity. "You might fight this, angel. You might tell yourself this isn't what you want, or need, or crave, but your body tells your secrets." He slid one finger past the edge of her panties, dipping it just inside, mumbling in barely intelligible gasps, "So hot, wet. Christ, angel, you can't lie to me." She bit her lip, closing her eyes, letting her head fall back against the wall. And still the struggle. She fought against him, his hand, herself.

Dragging his hand from her body to his belt, he held her gaze. And when her eyes drifted shut, he took her chin in his hand and growled at her, "Look at me, damn it. I will not let you shut me out, you fucking look at me." Half defiantly, she met his gaze. In hers there was a mixture of independence, confusion, and what he most sought, longing. His possession of her would be hard won, but complete. He tore his belt loose then shoved his pants down with his one free hand, moving then to slide her panties off one leg at a time, throwing them carelessly aside. Bracing her solidly against the wall, both hips bracketed in his hands, he met her gaze again. "Tell me", he whispered. "Tell me you need me." She laughed then, a forced laugh that sounded fake to his ears.

"Fuck you" she shot back.

Reaching around, twisting his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled her head back slightly, exposing her throat and causing a slight twinge of pain. "Tell. Me."

Gasping, she shook her head, eyes glazing, breath rasping. "Not on your life", she managed.

Twisting her hair more tightly in his hand, gripping her hips so tightly with the other that his nails left small moon shaped indentions in her flesh, he leaned in to her, finding the tender spot where shoulder met neck and nibbled there. "Tell me" he whispered more urgently.

Something between a sigh and a whimper passed her lips as she struggled to remember all the reasons she fought him. "No..." It was almost a question. "Yes" he whispered. "You. Need. This." With each pause, he rocked his hips against hers, nudging her heat with his own. Damn it, she wanted him, needed him. Why the hell did she keep fighting him? He was offering to help her let go, to let someone else hold her up, help her stand for just a little while, why would she not take what little comfort he could offer?

"God," she sighed. "It's not supposed to be this way." Whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. But he didn't have to hear it. His heart had been screaming the same thing.

"Give in to me, angel."

"Yes." That, on a gasp. His. Finally. He slid inside, not slowly, but forcefully, completely. "Yes," she moaned again. "God yes." He dropped his hand from her hair, wrapping her entirely in his embrace, rocking against her hard, moving inside her deeply, completely.

"Yes," he murmured against her hair. "Yes."

Slamming home again, he felt her nails tear into his skin, her teeth sink into his shoulder and he gave more of himself. Whatever noises slipped from her lips just pushed him further. Every sigh, gasp, moan, grunt only served to make him more frantic. It felt as though her body were clinging to him, pulling him deeper when he would slide out, clenching around him, holding him inside her. She held him so tightly within her, he could feel the exact moment of her surrender. Her arms, instead of pushing against him, wrapped around him. Her legs stopped fighting him and her already hot body became an inferno. She arched her back to take him deeper, a barely coherent, "please" slipping from her lips. He chuckled to himself. If she knew about that, she would deny it later. And he would remind her... often. It would gall her if she knew the way she opened for him, the way her body betrayed her. Her moist heat begging him to stay, to satisfy them both. Wrapping his hands around her shoulders, he slammed himself as deep as he could, watching her. Her eyes flew open in shock, almost pain, before drooping closed again, overrun with sensation.

He pushed her higher, winding her as tightly as a spring, feeding her need for release. And when it came, it washed over both of them in waves, forcing gasps of air from her mouth, gripping him in a vice like grip. Murmuring, whispering, forcing comforting noises past his lips, hoping she would hear and understand, he pushed his own need back. He wanted to push her that high one more time, but this time, he would watch her shatter. Lowering his head to the hollow of her throat, licking and nibbling there, he slowed his movements within her until her breathing grew even again. Then he wrapped his arms around her and, lifting, carried her to the bed. As he lowered her, he followed closely behind, never losing contact. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, whimpering softly.

Laughing softly, he whispered, "Not yet, sweetheart. It's not over yet." That said, he moved himself slowly, carefully within, feeling her ripple around him, satisfied but still so hungry.

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