fixeswatches | (no subject)

(no subject)

Gabriel reluctantly got out of bed, making his way over to his closet. He pulled out a suit and began to change into it. Paris was gone now and they were left with the reality of the cold cell room. Definitely a disappointment. He would have liked to spend all day in bed with her (at least the second time had gone better for both of them) but they had both agreed that if they stayed in his room for too long, Angela and Noah would become suspicious.

And neither one of them wanted that.

Especially when Candice's dead corpse was still on the floor in a fat, bloody mess.

He pulled on his coat before he began to work on fixing his tie. "So what are we doing next?" He asked curiously.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He groaned loudly against her lips as she sparked, his own mouth harsh and demanding against hers. There was no gentle touches or tenderness this time as his hands slid down her body, grabbing her breasts harshly.

He would show her. She wasn't right. She wasn't. He wasn't a tool for Angela or anyone else. It was easy enough for her to judge, she knew who she was and why she was here, for now, Angela's words were all he had to go by. But he would fix that. He would.

Her thighs tightened around him, and she burned his mouth and his hands with a rushing current and a pleased moan, her nipples perked into his palms. She couldn't stop whimpering, both overwhelmed and invigorated by his roughness, biting his tongue and lips and licking the cuts, her nails scratching. He wasn't right. She knew Angela and he didn't. "You're following her around like a big dumb dog, looking for scraps, Gabriel," she murmured against him, her body writhing and every inch of her body buzzing for him, her voice thick with it. "You can just take what you want," she breathed. "Like you took Candice. Like you're taking me. We don't need her. She's just using you. Us."

He bit her tongue, her lips, the taste of her blood only rousing him to continue. His hands were rough as he began to knead her breasts and he knew already he was going to leave bruises on her. "But she might hold the key to who I really am," He hissed angerly, pushing her down harder against the ground as he positioned himself at her entrance. There was something more intense, almost more intimate about being with her in such a violent fashion, unlike before.

She wanted his bruises and his roughness, his demanding weight with a gasp, her toes curling as his tip pressed against her. She reached down to touch her swollen clit, test her wetness and brush her fingers against him, suddenly still and shaking under him and waiting for him to thrust in with a whimper. "We can figure it out together," she whispered, her voice soft and alluring even thought her clenched teeth, her angry eyes. "You're mine, not hers."

He gasped softly as her wet fingers brushed against his erection, causing it to twitch in anticipation. He tightened his grip on her, his fingers pinching at her nipples as he pushed inside of her with one hard thrust. "How? How will we figure it out?" He demanded. Because he knew Angea knew more than she was letting on, he felt it, he just didn't know how to get that information.

She couldn't answer for a moment, letting out a soft cry, her walls clenching as he stroked inside of her, his pinching fingers making her all the more frantic as she writhed her hips into his. "Get your memories. Adam, maybe," she gasped out, a little dizzy from the rush of pleasure.

"The one with the healing blood?" He gasped out, pushing into her once again with a shuddering breath. His mouth dropped down to her neck, biting the skin roughly as he began to work up a rhythm.

"Yes," she breathed, the words strained and layered with double meaning. Elle's back arced into his thrusts, her mouth open on whimpering pants. It was better the third time. Much, much better, especially with his teeth breaking the skin of her neck, her nails clinging desperately to his back. Her lips fell to his shoulders, her eyes slipping closed as she kissed, licked, and then sunk her teeth into him too, with a little spark.

He growled against her skin as sparked and bit his shoulder, encouraging him to drive in even deeper. He nodded his head to her answer, unable to talk anymore. One of his hands slipped between their legs, his thumb pressing roughly against her clit.

Her cry was muffled against his shoulder, her breath just a string of moans and gasps. Her body twined tight around his, and she held on as she shuddered and moved beneath him, digging her teeth in deeper as he played with her.

His own breath was erratic and shallow as he continued to slam into her, lapping at the blood on her neck as his thumb rubbed her sensitive core. It was so much better than the first two times, it was incredible.

She tended her deep teeth marks with her tongue, skimming her lips up to his thrumming pulse, the taste of him heavy on her tongue. Her fingers curled into his hair, and she cradled him to her neck, grunting softly against his hot skin. It almost hurt, how hard he was fucking her, and she was almost surprised how good it felt, how she was tightening around him and her hips were jerking with every push of his thumb. Her teeth bit into his neck to muffle her soft cries.

It was strange how worried he had been about hurting her before in comparison to how much he seemed to be enjoying doing so now. Neither one of them were being particular quiet as they moved in time with one another, and if he was thinking more clearly he might have been worried about Angela or Noah finding them like this. But all he could think about was how perfect it felt as he pushed into her with force, over and over again, bruising her hips.

She was nearly sobbing for release, her eyes clenched shut and his body moving so hard into hers she could barely meet his thrusts. It was all too much and not enough all at once: his mouth, marking, claiming her, his thumb pushing and rubbing her tighter and tighter. The pain was real, and the floor was so hard as he drove into her, and it made her feel alive, woke something dark and violent in her.

Sparks starting to heat and burst through her skin viciously, from excitement and pain and pleasure. And what else could she do to him, when his size and strength dominated her so completely? Her jaw clamped down at his jugular, and another trickle of blood filled her mouth, her legs jerking and moving as she cried out and started to come, hard. Harder than she'd ever made herself come before.

Edited 2010-01-08 05:26 (UTC)

He had never seen something as beautiful as how she looked in that moment. He had never seen her just loose herself completely like this and that sight combined with her walls spasming almost violently around him was enough to send him over the edge. He continued to pound inside of her a couple of more times as he clamped his mouth down on her shoulder, biting hard to muffle his groans as he came.

Her body felt limp and possessed afterward, her hips pushing up into his even though she could hardly move. She breathed fast and shallow and dragged her bloody, stinging lips to his cheek, still trembling with little shocks. Dimly, her palms ran gently down his scratched, marred back, and a small smile tugged at her mouth. Hers.

His body trembeled as his orgasm subsided and it took the little strength he had left not to completely collapse on top of her. He looked down at her, smiling softly with his bloody lips. She looked so beautiful with her marred lips and bruises blossoming all over her skin. His.

She returned his content, admiring, and possessive smile, aching as she tried to move her back a little. "That hurt," she murmured breathlessly, licking her lips. Not that she meant it in a bad way. Quite the contrary.

"It did," He muttered in response, leaning down to brush his bloody lips against hers. He didn't feel angry at her anymore, not really. Instead, he felt closer to her then ever.

She hissed at the pain, and darted her tongue out to playfully lick his open lower lip. "There might be cameras in this hallway, you know," she giggled softly. Not that she cared, particularly. The only thing that mattered was him. Them. Together.

"It's a little too late to be worried about that," He laughed softly, delighting in the stinging pain of her tongue brushing against his marred lip. "But we probably shouldn't linger here for too long."

"We don't want to scandalize Angela," she retorted, her amusement laced with traces of menace. She did, even if she wasn't as angry anymore. Gabriel had fixed that, giving her an outlet, even though she hadn't been that angry at him to begin with. Well, maybe a little. For depending on Angela. But they didn't need her anymore, so it was okay.

"Of course not," He agreed in his own sardonic tone. "Besides, we need to get you another shirt to wear." He gave a pointed look at the shredded remains of the camisole she had been wearing before.

"That's easy," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pulled herself up, gently kissing the corner of his smile. "You better give me yours now, though."

"Probably best," He mused, picking up his shirt and handing it to her. "We wouldn't want you to give the rest of the place a free show or something like that."