Not gonna lie, I've been thinking about this since receiving this request, and it may be because I'm stressed af and tried to remedy that earlier tonight while it's also 1:24am at the point I'm starting this post and I'm watching the French dispatch that's playing on tv that is surprisingly hilarious and i feel like I'm about to fall asleep very, very soon and I also need to wake up early
But tbh the initial first thoughts I had—which will likely change ngl, I haven't even read gotten the chance to start on this because I can't seem to figure out HOW to handle this entire setting and conclusion—but I have had thoughts about your request for him being a power bottom and having the shit rode out of him. He wanted to talk a big game but she just... Saw straight through it. Sold him to shut up and pushed him down onto the nearest flat surface, grabbed his collar and kissed him angry and rough. He's of course stunned. And as he's attempting to form a sentence—a question, more like, because this isn't like her despite him yearning after her for so long—he's flabbergasted.
She rides the fuck out of him, something akin to an angry fuck and she just wants him to shut up. But he's gazing up at her like she's an angel and despite it all, he's saying sweet nothing's to her that he knows will get to her, which he knows will make her soften after years of knowing her.
And after he feels her finally relax and she's sighing in contempt and finally letting him kiss her everywhere he's longed to—her jaw, her throat, her shoulders, her cleavage—when she's getting dazed by lust, he asks her to rest her hands on his throat and apply her weight there. She isn't certain at first but he soon convinced her.
He likes to be choked, she finds out, a lopsided grin on his face and his eyes roll back as he approaches his pinnacle of no return. She's close too, brought there by his insistence and then by his breathless, continuous, "Please... Please... Please... Please!"
He begs to cum. He begs to please her, to give her everything he has. He begs to feel her convulge and milk him dry and then to keep going. Begs that if she doesn't let him, he'll die.
--o--
Or, alternatively, he smiles at her nicely and while she's talking and trying to stand on business, he gets her to loosen up. Gets her all soft and compliant, sighing and confused and breathless when he squeezes her thighs and pulls her close, making ber back arch on reflex. And then he pulls her on top of him. He's kissing, sucking, and nipping from her jaw down her neck, smirking smugly all the while.
About him being aggressive: perhaps he's holding her hips in a grip that's so tight it hurts, she leaned over him, her hands planted near his shoulders, her fingers digging into the surface under him, as he bucks his hips up into her so rapidly and so forcefully. He knows that she doesn't allow herself self-fullfilling pleasure all the time, so as her back arches above him, he forces her to indulge in pleasure and coos into her ear, "Feels good, yeah?"
She whimpers, a sound she would not really be too proud to emit in front of him.
"I wanna hear you—need to hear you say it. Say it feels good," he pants evilly, and it feels like his grip on her hip tightens and his hips move faster, making her hiss, and she can feel every vein, every inch that plugs her up completely and rubs against her g-spot. "Say that I make you feel good. I make you feel good, yeah? Tell me I make you feel good!"
Just barely, she whispers out, "Yeah! So good!"
Her hands would dig into the surface he's laid across underneath her, and he'd nip under her jaw again, leaving pretty bruises as trophies of accomplishment he'd gaze at, smugly, come tomorrow.
She cries out at being forced to endure this, at being forced to experience such hightened, intense pleasure without barriers or restraints or excuses.
And when he squeezes a hand between their overheated, sweating bodies to find her clit, she tosses her head back and feels tears beginning to prick the edges of her eyes. He doesn't give her mercy until she's wetting him due to her orgasming.
Once more, she tries to push him away, the aftershocks and sensitivity intense and near overwhelming, but he simply grabs her wrists and continues fucking up into her.
She cums again, tears finally rolling down her cheeks, and he kisses their wet tracks before gently turning them over, raises her hips, drapes himself across her back—but not before tying a scarf around his neck and wrapping the other end around her jelly-loose hand to pull to her delight and control—and then he's fucking her from behind.
During it, she does tug his neck forward via the scarf, earning his delight.
- - - - -
idk. these are just scenerios and interaction ideas. I feel like because I'm tired and it's late, I missed your mark. so pls feel free to correct me @dragonmaiden79 . if there's parts you want me to change, rearrange, or whatever have you
in the meantime, I'm still trying to decide if she should remember anything from The Absinthe Attempt or not, like what would she be at his shoppe so late for like in the ending?
