T/W: Describes a depressive episode. If this is going to be upsetting to you please skip this piece.
Rylie comes into the kitchen and sets the bags of takeout down on the counter. She knows there is too much of it, there’s probably more than enough here to feed a half a dozen people not just the two of them, but she doesn’t know what might tempt him to actually eat today and so she has covered her bases. Before spreading out today’s provisions she first opens the refrigerator, gathering up the uneaten repasts from several days back. She tosses the carcasses of old clamshell packaging and their questionable contents in the trash container, noting with a wrinkle of her nose that she needs to take that out when she leaves. She tosses away the rest of the refuse she sees laying about, and then gathers a clean washcloth from the drawer by the sink and prepares a basin full of hot, soapy water, which she uses to wash down the counters and clean the few glasses left sitting out. Once the kitchen is put to rights and smelling like a tropical breeze, she finally opens the bags she has brought, setting out the food in what she hopes is an appealing manner.
“Shannon,” she calls out in the quiet house, but she doesn’t expect an answer. She calls his name one more time when she has finished and then heads back to his bedroom, where she is almost certain he is.
She finds him on his bed, in almost the same position he was in when she left him last night. She takes a deep breath and swallows, counting to ten, determined to keep the quiver out of her voice that she feels on seeing him like this. “Hey Shannon, I brought dinner again.”
She doesn’t ask how he is, she knows the answer. It’s the same one it’s been for days now, although she hopes for something better every evening she shows up at his door.
“Ry… I don’t think….” Shannon mumbles, his face still buried in the rumpled blankets.
Rylie swallows again and grits her teeth in determination. Shannon is in the same sweats and t-shirt he has been in for four days now and she can smell him from where she stands in the doorway. Enough is enough. She knows he can’t sort it for himself so it’s up to her to help get him moving.
She walks past him without another word, directly to the en-suite bathroom where she turns on the shower. She gathers everything he’ll need and lays it out where he can easily reach it and then marches back to the bed.
“All right, Up you go. You smell like a hobo and you’re ruining my appetite now too. And I picked up dinner from El Coyote so you’re not going to spoil that for me. You know it’s my favorite.”
Shannon groans and rolls over, pulling the blankets over his eyes. Rylie quickly snatches them away from him and begins stripping the bed around him.
“These sheets have got to go too. Trust me, you’ll feel much better once you’ve showered and have fresh sheets.” When he doesn’t move she stops, her voice softer as she brushes her fingers through his haphazard mop of hair. “Come on, Shan. It’s Friday. I can even stay tonight if you’d like. But I’m not going to curl up back here with you if you don’t wash up and put some fresh blankets down.”
This seems to give him enough push that he sits up and puts his feet on the floor. Rylie goes back to stripping the bed, pulling pillowcases loose as she watches Shannon stretch one muscular arm after the other, rotating his head from side to side as his muscles adjust, before finally getting up and padding across the floor and into the bathroom. She is pulling out fresh linens for the bed when she hears a plaintive cry from en-suite.
“Ry….”
She immediately drops the sheets and goes to him, finding Shannon in his boxers, standing in front of the toiletries and change of clothes she has laid out for him, a look of confusion on his face. She wants to cry, this is a particularly bad day for him and her heart hurts for what he must be going through, but instead, she gently wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his shoulder. It takes him a minute, but eventually, she feels his arms wrap around her too, and she holds him like that until she feels him start to relax.
“I know it feels overwhelming,“ she tells him in what she hopes is her most calm and reassuring voice. "Just break the tasks down, one thing at a time. All you have to do right now is take your boxers off and get in the shower”
“I’m sorry, Ry. I don’t mean to be so much trouble. You don’t have to do this you know…”
She sees that his eyes, already red-rimmed and swollen from what must have been an earlier crying jag, are growing moist with another threatening storm. She is determined to head it off. “All right, none of that. You know I don’t mind. I’m here for you whatever the reason. You’re just sick. Just like anyone who has the flu or a cold. You’d like me to come take care of you and feed you chicken soup if you had a cold right?”
“And maybe give me a sponge bath?” Shannon jokes, almost cracking a smile.
The little bit of hope that glimmer of normal Shannon gives her refuels her determination. “I think you’re too far gone for a sponge bath, mister. Now strip and get under that hot water.”
He does as she requests, not shy about disrobing in front of her. Shannon has never been shy, and it’s not anything she hasn’t seen before. They were more than friends once, although it seems like that was several lifetimes ago. She misses it more than she lets on, but she’s happy to carry that torch for him. Whether or not anything ever changes between them she knows she is more special to him than he admits as well. It’s an equilibrium that only they understand.
She stays long enough to make sure that he’s finding his way now, lathered up with body wash and sighing under the hot steam, before she returns to making the bed. Once it is made she begins straightening up the bedroom, throwing away tissues and wrappers, straightening pill bottles and gathering dirty cups, until she hears the shower cut off. She waits patiently to make sure he gets dressed without any further hiccups. He finally appears in front of her, in a fresh t-shirt and sweats with a pair of fuzzy spotted socks on his feet. He is damp and his hair is ruffled and something in her heart tugs affectionately just a bit.
"You’ve been taking your meds, right?” she asks as she waves a half-full bottle at him.
Shannon grumbles and takes the bottle from her, opening it up and popping a single pill in his mouth and dry swallowing it. “When I remember,” he confesses.
“You need to hydrate too. Take those things with water.“ She takes the bottle back and returns it to its spot on the nightstand. "Come on, there’s food in the kitchen,” she urges.
“I’m not hungry,” he tells her, letting himself fall forward onto the freshly made bed. He grabs and pillow and pulls it underneath him, tucking his knees up and rolling to the side.
Rylie snatches the pillow away from him. “Well, I am. And you’re not going to make me eat by myself so you’re going to march into that kitchen and sit down next to me while I tell you about my day. And if you’re very good and maybe eat a flauta we can come back in here and curl up in the bed and watch some movies together.”
Shannon grumbles but follows her into the kitchen. He looks over the spread she has laid out for him while she pulls out plates. “Jesus, Ry. This is too much food. I haven’t even eaten the stuff you brought yesterday.”
“Or the day before or the day before that,” she adds. “But sooner or later something will sound good to you and I want there to be food in the house for you when that happens.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just watches as she makes herself a plate and then stubbornly puts some food on his too. He gets a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drinks that while he watches her eat and chatter on, her voice filling the otherwise silent house. She makes him feel less alone in the world. She is an anchor for him, and he needs her more than he thinks she knows.
Eventually, Shannon picks up his fork and starts picking at the food, and before he realizes what has happened he’s finished a tamale and some rice. He can see that Rylie is trying not to make a big deal of it, taking his half-empty plate with what he imagines she thinks is a casual shrug but he can see the big smile that is spreading across her face. He manages to pull his wits about him for a time and helps her with the cleanup, He adds the leftovers to the burgeoning pile in the refrigerator, it’s generous interior nearly bursting at the seams with her meals. He closes the refrigerator door but stands unmoving in front of the appliance, his wavy reflection looking back at him from the stainless steel surface. The evidence of her care is there, in his still damp hair that smells of shampoo, the tidy room with a freshly made bed waiting for him, the persistent meals spilling over on their chilled shelves. The way she never scolds him but always encourages him, the way she is there when he is on top of the world and when he is an absolute mess. The way he looks forward to her laugh, and the way his world seems a little less colorful when it is absent.
“I love you, Rylie,” he says simply.
She hugs him tightly, both of them savoring the feel of each other. “I love you too, Shannon.‘
He means more than that, he is almost positive, but he knows now is not the time. “Are you going to make me some popcorn to have with these movies, or are we just going to sit around and watch them like animals?” he asks.
Rylie laughs. “I’ll make you all the popcorn you’ll eat Shanbear,” she tells him, using a nickname he hasn’t heard in ages.
He pulls the large bowl he uses for popcorn out of the cabinet and feels the first real smile he has had in weeks stretch his cheeks. He’ll tell her tomorrow, he thinks. It’s good to have something to look forward to.
Link to your Masterlist: https://lolainblue.tumblr.com/post/174506158608/masterlist-20
What was your first experience with 30 Seconds to Mars? A friend had bought their first album and brought it over while hanging out. We listened to a few songs, I immediately fell in love. She asked me “Guess who the lead singer is? It's Jordan Catallano!” I was so stunned.
Your Favorite Mars song? I could never pick one. There is one for whatever mood I am in. I love Attack, a lot of the old stuff, Buddha for Mary... They have changed so much over the years but I still love all their sounds.
Has anything ever happened to you solely because of being a 30STM fan? There are people that I met only because of Mars, and friends I have made in the fandom I wouldn't have otherwise.
What is your favorite thing about the fandom? Your least favorite? I think this is a very welcoming, supportive, and open fandom for the most part. It does have certain cliques, which is all right, everyone has their things they're into, but it would be nice if they got along a little better.
Is there any advice you would give to someone who is new to the fandom? Don't get too caught up in rumors. There are some people who are crazy obsessive and love to trash talk. It's a strange combo.
How long have you been writing? Since I was in elementary school.
Why did you start writing? (Either in general or for Mars specifically) I went through a catastrophic health event a few years ago. I found myself stuck at home and mostly bed bound, looking at a slow recovery. I started reading more, and also reading more fanfiction. I restarted my Tumblr account and came across some Mars writers. @thepromiseofanend and @fyeahproudglambert were actually among some of the first writers I read here and very much inspired me to keep writing for the fandom.
Do you write for other fandoms? If so, which ones? I have written for other fandoms in the past but right now the only one I am writing for is Mars.
Do you share everything you write? If not, is there a reason why? No. Not everything I write is Mars related, and some of the pieces I am working on only sporadically and I will share when I have more of them written.
Have you written things that aren't fanfic? If so, could you tell us about those works? I have written plays and screenplays, short stories.. I write a lot I am currently working on a paranormal novel that is original fiction.
Of all your works, which is your favorite and why? I think Fangs and Fairytales is probably my favorite, I love horror and vampires and the paranormal, and it's fun to play with an alternate timeline like that.
Is there one that was particularly difficult to write? Why? There is one I am working on currently that is not yet published that I draw from some difficult personal experiences and struggles. I am not entirely sure I will share it when I am done.
What is the ideal writing environment for you? At your desk? Quiet? Music? I work on my laptop and I prefer to have silence. I can't stand having the television or music on when I am writing. The location doesn't matter much but the silence does. If I can't get silence I will put on headphones with ambient sounds, like thunderstorms. When I was writing the first part of Thunderbirds, I had a site that had cafe sounds that I listened to a lot.
What type of fanfic are you most comfortable writing (drama, fluff, angst, drabbles, series, etc.) I absolutely love to write angst. I torture my characters mercilessly. I also tend towards long pieces.
What is your favorite fanfic trope? Enemies to Friends, Ooops there's only one bed, Mutual Pining
Is there any trope or subject that you won't write? There are certain kinks that I don't care for, and extreme stuff is off the table. Don't make me name them all.
Are there any special tools that you use when creating or writing your story? I use either Open Office for short pieces or Scrivener for longer more structured stories. Grammarly is a lifesaver.
Do you write your story in order or do you jump around and then string it together at the end? Mostly in order. I am a very linear thinker.
Do you outline, or do a great deal of prep work or do you 'fly by the seat of your pants'? I have a general outline and a plan for each story. Some are more detailed than others.
How do you usually get your inspiration? Dreams, music, other stories, movies... I get so many ideas, it's the execution that's an issue more than inspiration.
Do you have ideas on the drawing board or in progress currently that you haven't shared yet? Yes. I have two series that I am working on. One I had originally planned to be ready in a few weeks but due to illness I am behind.
If you have an unpublished work in progress, please pick two to three sentences and share them without context.
Jared assured me however that he was fully prepared, gripping me ever tighter as he pressed me into the upholstered bench seating, no sign of shyness in regards to the driver who was currently ferrying us through damp and intimate back streets. The evening's earlier rain had broken and everything was left looking freshly glazed, colors amplified in reflection. It would have been a lovely drive through the Latin Quarter if he had paused from his advances long enough to look out the window.
Do you like requests? Would you like more or less of them? I love requests but I don't always have time. I have several series I am actively working on for myself, several things in the lab, another collaboration as well as original work. But one of my favorite oneshots (Overtime) came from an anon request. You can always ask. I may not be able to fill it but you can always ask.
Is there an upcoming project from you that you are excited about? Why, and what can you share about it? I am excited about all my writing. There is one piece that won't be coming for a while but it's a new Shannon series with a rather different romantic interest.
The best piece of writing advice you've ever received? Eliminate your inner audience. Whenever we write we have a tendency to think of the people who might be reading it and how they will react. It can limit us from being true and fearless with what we are producing. Write for the characters, focus on the story, and don't mentally allow other people to look over your shoulder. Especially when writing smut.
The worst piece of writing advice you've ever received? For overcoming writer's block: Just sit down and write. If I could do that Karen, I wouldn't be complaining about writer's block.
What piece of advice would you give to someone just starting to write fanfic? Don't worry if you don't get a lot of attention to start. Don't worry if your stories aren't as good as others. Just keep writing and try to make each piece a little better than the last one. Compete against yourself. Your writing will grow and develop as you continue to work and as it does you will find your audience.
Three (stories, series, scenes, etc) written by others that you really like or that inspire you? Only three? I think Save Me by @spillinginkwithlove was probably the thing that truly drew me in. Closer to the Edge (@thepromiseofanend) has my OTP of Mia/Jared. @darklydelicousdesires has my favorite piece of Shannon smut, Double Measures
Are any of your characters closer to being “you” than others? Any reason in particular? All of my characters have tiny pieces of me in them, whether it's a taste in food or future aspiration. In a lot of ways, I think I'm more Jane than anything, a lot of Jane and Roger’s childhood memories come from my own experience growing up in small towns in Illinois and Indiana -- but there are characters in two pieces I am working on that draw deeply from a lot of my life experiences.
Are any of your characters based on someone you know? Roger (from Thunderbirds) is actually very strongly based on an old boyfriend of mine.
Are any of your plots based on something that happened to you? The upcoming pieces Bodies, Rest and Motion and Mirror Ball both draw strongly on my own personal experiences, although the characters are unique as are the circumstances. The stories aren't autobiographical in any way, I have just drawn on things that I have been through and know to create something that conveys those experiences.
Favorite font for writing? Segoe UI ( In 14pt because I'm blind)
Do you consider yourself a reader outside of fanfic? Yes. I love to read.
Your favorite book? I don't know about any one book, but I love Brandon Mull, Tad Williams, and Charlaine Harris. Also Poppy Z Brite, Terry Pratchett, so much science fiction and horror.....
Your favorite things to do when you're not writing? I love to cook, watch movies, binge Netflix, hang out with my dogs, play video games and just be with my family.
Two truths and a lie? I owned and ran my own catering company, I lived briefly in Italy, I was the drummer for a punk band
Something surprising about you? My original career ambition (and the college program I started in) was for experimental high energy (particle) physics. I still love science. I am a huge nerd.
Favorite food to enjoy while watching Netflix? Popcorn, of course.
Favorite way to spend a Saturday night? The activity doesn't matter to me as much as the company. I just want to be surrounded by good people. I love a good meal and a card or board game with friends and family. (I love tabletop games and have a small collection. Gloom and Betrayal at House on the Hill are two of my favorites.)
Blankets Tucked or Untucked? Untucked!
Do you have any pets? Would you like to tell us about them? I have two rescued pit bulls that are big love bugs (Twilight and Lokii) and two cats, Coyote and Mayhem. Lokii is the only one that is technically mine (Twilight is my son's dog, and the cats are just household pets) and Lokii never leaves my side. He is very protective and watches over me when I am feeling ill. He is also very goofy and loves to play
Are there any particular battles or struggles in your life you'd like to tell us about? I've been through a lot. I have somehow managed to pick myself up and keep going each time I've been knocked down. You have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, no matter what. There's really no other choice. Just keep going. There's always something good ahead.
Anything you'd like to add? I am horrible at initiation and maintaining friendships. It's mostly an anxiety issue, I feel like I'm annoying people, I think they don't want to talk to me, that they simply tolerate me... I know there are lots of you that can relate to that. Chances are really good that I'd like to talk to you, even if I seem stand-offish or seem to have withdrawn. Please don't ever take it personally. And if we've never talked, well feel free to say hi, or ask me a question. I love to chat, I really do, I'm just bad about keeping things going until I get used to people. I take ridiculously long to get used to people. I guess what I'm saying is I'm a big mess and I have social issues but if you're into that, come chat with me.
“Ms. Novak, a courier just dropped this off for you.”
Marina looked up from the report she was working on to see her assistant, Curtis, set a small yellow shipping envelope on top of her “In” basket.
“Who is it from?” she inquired.
Curtis shrugged. “I don't know. It was a private courier and there's nothing on the label but your name.”
She waited for him to leave the office before picking up the envelope, turning it over in her hands a few time as she examined it. It was light, almost as if there were nothing inside it. After a moment's contemplation, she finally tore open and upended it, letting the contents spill onto her desk. There was a small white unmarked magnetic stripe card and a folded note held closed by sealing wax and red satin ribbon. Intrigued, she picked up the note, running her fingers over the elaborate design pressed into the dark wax before removing the ribbon and breaking the seal to read the note.
Hotel Monteleone
Room 400
7 p.m.
Wear the shoes
Marina smiled at the familiar handwriting. She hadn't even known he was in town, their tour didn't start for another month and wouldn't be bringing him nearby this time around. Still, she was missing him terribly and her stomach gave a small flip at the thought of enjoying his company once again. She read the note one more time, tracing the letters he had written with her fingertips, savoring the salacious images that sprang into her mind, memories of the last time they had been together. She didn't need to ask which shoes. She knew. And, surprise visit or not, Marina knew that he knew she would come.
Seven o'clock that evening found her in her favorite figure-hugging little black dress, strolling past the enormous grandfather clock in the lobby of the luxury hotel. Her heels clicked on the marble floor and echoed off the gilded columns that lined the elegant space, and more than a few heads turned her way as she strode confidently past. She tossed her long copper tresses over one shoulder as she boarded the elevator and indicated her desired floor to the attendant. She smiled softly as the youth gave her an appreciative head to toe scan, licking his lips as he took in her well-sculpted body for as long as he dared before engaging the lift.
Once she had been delivered to the appropriate floor she pulled the keycard from her clutch, her thumb running over the smooth surface as she tried to quiet her racing heart. She didn't have room in her life these days for a relationship, not a real one, but he was her favorite lover. The promise of seeing him again so unexpectedly already had her skin tingling in anticipation. She paused in front of his door, straightening her dress and slowing her breathing before inserting the card into its slot. Receiving the corresponding green light she pushed the door open and stepped into the generous suite's parlor.
“Hello?” Marina called out but there didn't seem to be anyone around. She dropped her clutch into the small basket by the door and creased her brow in confusion before spotting a box centered on the ornate dining table, a large scarlet bow tied around it and a note dangling from a string attached to the top. Curiously she approached it, giving it a gentle shake before unfurling the ribbon. Inside she found a red satin blindfold and a pair of handcuffs. With a smile, she picked up the note.
Be Ready.
It was brief but she knew what the request meant, what he would be expecting. She moved to the center of the sitting room and knelt in front of the large sofa, covering her eyes with the length of scarlet fabric before carefully cuffing her hands behind her back. Even that simple act aroused her, and she could feel the gooseflesh forming on her arms and the heat building in her core as she waited for him to arrive. The muted sounds of the French Quarter below filtered softly into the room and in the dark and quiet she found herself slipping into a different state of mind, the rest of the world falling away, the awareness of her own body sharpening. Her breathing slowed and became deeper, the gooseflesh dissolving as her skin began to warm and flush, her tongue passingly slowly over her lips to moisten them. The longer she waited the more her longing for him built. She only saw him when he passed through town, maybe a few times a year, but in those moments she was his completely.
A door opened and closed and as she heard him enter, Marina's focus immediately centered on him. She adjusted her posture, raising her hips and sitting up straight the way she knew he would want her to. She listened to him moving about the room, her anticipation building, wondering what he was doing. He had made no attempt to acknowledge her at all since arriving and it was only fueling the butterflies that filled her stomach.
The sharp sound of dress shoes on the hand scraped hardwood floors surprised her, she was expecting his usual sneakers. He must have been at a formal event or meeting of some sort before this. She lamented the blindfold. She loved to see him dressed so elegantly. Briefly, she considered calling out to him or perhaps making a small sound, clearing her throat, something to grab his attention, but she fought the urges back, waiting patiently, her desire growing by the minute. It wasn't as if he could possibly miss her kneeling there, Marina reminded herself. Her sometimes lover was surely well aware of her presence.
“My beautiful enchantress, how I've missed you.”
Marina felt warm breath at her ear a split second before she heard his velvety voice but she still jumped slightly. She hadn't heard him approach at all and she realized he must have removed his shoes. He touched her gently and she shivered in response, his fingers tracing a line from her cheek to her throat, turning and twisting as they outlined the junction of her slender neck and ivory shoulder. His hands lingered there, circling her neck a few times, no doubt taking in the way she raised her chin in offering, before continuing to her exposed back, bringing out another shiver as he allowed his nails to scrape against the bare skin, his palm finally flattening as he gripped her hip and anchored her in place.
“Hello, Sir,” she greeted him in a breathy whisper as his lips pressed reverently to her exposed throat. He let his tongue follow his fingers' previous path, tracing down to her shoulder where he gave her a soft nip. She smiled at the familiar scrape of his teeth, the small constellation of freckles there was his favorite spot to sample. She inhaled deeply, taking in the rich scent of his cologne, noting the prickle of his beard against her skin and the sound of his own quickened breaths, employing the senses she still had available to her. As he moved behind her and she shifted slightly she could feel the dampness between her legs, her own arousal evident now.
With his hands on her hips, he placed one tiny kiss at the at the back of her neck and she shivered at the warmth of his soft lips. His mouth worked a trail down her spine as his hand mapped the turns of her legs, tugging lightly at the red bows at the back of her heels, very much like the ribbons and bows he had been gifting her all day. He clearly had given those shoes a great deal of thought since the last time he had seen her in them.
Marina let her head fall back almost imperceptibly, a sigh escaping her still parted lips. She felt his hands move to her head in response, gathering her thick auburn hair and moving it aside, leaving even more of her throat exposed. She could feel him adjusting his position behind her, straddling her legs as he moved to his knees, his hand lightly cupping her throat. Her heart sped up at the increased contact, her anticipation building into a thundering drum in her ears. When his lips again returned to her vulnerable neck he pushed forward, his hips coming to rest against her cuffed hands. Marina bit her lip and tried to maintain her focus, but she could feel his burgeoning erection pushing against her open palms and she desperately wanted to take it in her hands and enjoy the sensation of feeling him respond and harden for her. That wasn't the way they played this game, however, and so she waited as patiently as she could, holding her position, whimpering as his hands explored her. They lingered at her breasts, cupping them as he rolled their taut apexes between his thumb and forefingers. As he pinched and tugged a soft moan escaped her and her center kicked up a corresponding throbbing that made her head swim.
“You like that, do you darling?” he purred in her ear. Marina managed a nod, not trusting herself to speak. He chuckled, then nipped at her throat, pulling her back until she was tight against his chest. His hands strayed downward again, leaving her tender peaks and smoothing their way across the tight plane of her abdomen. As he reached her thighs he grasped them abruptly, pulling roughly at them while simultaneously biting down on the tender curve between her neck and shoulder and causing her to gasp and arch into him. His clever fingers were under her dress in an instant, following the trail of moisture to her overheated core. Marina's gaps turned into a wanton moan as he parted her lower lips and his hips moved forward again, his now prominent bulge grinding against her.
Once again one hand wound its way to his favorite spot, grasping her elegant neck just below her chin and pulling her body taut. Her shoulders had begun to burn with the pull and constriction of her restraints and she was dimly aware of an ache in her knees from the solid and unforgiving floor beams. She barely spared a thought to either distraction, however, lost in the pleasure of his attentions. He sucked one earlobe into his mouth as his fingers circled her hardened clit, and Marina whimpered and rolled her hips into his exploring fingers. Every time she rocked back she could feel him there, his hard length resting perfectly between her palms. His teeth once again clamped down, this time right below her ear but the cry that escaped her lips was due to the sudden intrusion of his fingers, plunging into her depths as his palm caressed the sensitive bundle of nerves they had just been stroking. Just when she thought she would come apart he stopped.
She smelled herself on his fingers before she tasted them, their wet sticky tips tracing her lips as he waited for them to part. Reflexively she opened her mouth for him, accepting the sodden digits and swirling her tongue over them to clean them.
“See how good you taste?” he asked, his gravelly voice in her ear causing her heart to race again. She nodded as best she could before he withdrew his fingers, and he gripped her throat again, a little more tightly than before. “I need a taste of that too,” he purred.
With that, the warm press of his body was gone and he seemed to stand up. Marina next felt his hands under her arms, urging her to stand as well. It was difficult to do from the position she was in and without the benefit of her arms, and her legs wobbled on the perch of the satin bowed stilettos before he grasped her and turned her roughly around, pushing her back onto the sofa, her cuffed hands tucked underneath her. The next sensation she was aware of was his hands, which came to rest lightly just above her knees. When he placed a tender kiss on each one she realized he must have come to kneel in front of her and she let her imagination fill in that blank, visualizing him on his knees in the beautiful suite, still in whatever dress clothes he had been wearing, and she smiled.
“I see that,” he chuckled, fingertips weaving and dancing their way up her thighs. “Tell me,” he asked, his fingers catching the sides of her lace panties and tugging them towards him, “do you like having me on my knees for you?”
“Yes Sir,” Marina confirmed, her voice sounding slow and dreamy even to her own ears.
“Would you like to see me?”
“Oh yes Sir,” she replied immediately, not bothering to hide her eagerness. She heard him chuckle again, and he continued pulling her panties down her legs, carefully guiding them past her knees and then pulling her feet loose so as not to disturb her shoes. She waited for him to remove the blindfold but instead she felt him lifting her legs, placing her heels on the edge of the sofa before he hooked his arms around her thighs. He gave her a harsh tug towards him, leaving her perched on the edge of her seat and fully exposed.
“Please?” Marina added, hoping that the simple addition of that word would be enough to convince him to let her look on.
“Soon,” he hummed in response, his lips tracing a feathery trail to her core.
Marina whimpered. She knew what that meant, that more teasing was to follow. She bit her lower lip and let herself fall back, trying not to put too much pressure on her cuffed hands. The metal was biting into her wrists slightly at this angle and her shoulders burned even more than they had when she had been kneeling in wait for him.
His kisses became more intense, catching the tender skin inside her thighs in his teeth before swirling his tongue gently across the stinging flesh. His hands kept her thighs parted widely. She would have held them there for him on her own but she enjoyed the way the pressure compelled her surrender. With a sigh she let her head fall to the side as she felt his warm breath at her center and her hands flexed in anticipation. He blew softly across her dampness and Marina murmured appreciatively. There was the sound of a soft chuckle and then his tongue made contact, tracing the outline of the swollen cleft lightly, teasing her as she had known he would. She could feel that heat from earlier building again, her stomach coiling as her nerves came alive and her desire for him took over.
“Please,” she said again, her voice a raspy whisper that still managed to dominate the quiet room.
“Please what, darling?” he asked, his voice syrupy and low as he changed out his tongue for his finger, the circling of her swollen cleft never stopping. “Is there something that you want.”
Marina grumbled in frustration. He knew that she wasn't good at dirty talk or asking for what she wanted. He seemed determined as ever, however, to draw it out of her. “I...” She fished through her foggy brain for the words she needed, and she could see them there, looming, but she couldn't bring herself to draw them out. She whined and attempted to pull away from him.
“I asked you a question,” he said, a little more forcefully, and when she didn't reply he gave Marina a sharp rap against the inside of her thigh. “What is that you want? Don't be ashamed. Tell me, my lovely enchantress.”
Marina took a deep breath and shouted down the voice in her head that told her she shouldn't be saying these things, shouldn't be letting him see how deep her desire for him ran. “I want....” her voice trembled a bit but she took another deep breath and resumed before her silence earned her another snap of his palm. “I want your mouth on me.”
“On?” He hummed the question as he pressed his lips against the top of her mons.
It took one more deep breath before it spilled out of her. “On my pussy. My clit. I want you to make me cum with that clever tongue of yours.”
“As you wish,” he replied before using his thumbs to pull her lips apart, his tongue making one long stroke up the channel that they revealed. Marina shuddered as her desire kicked up another notch. Her embarrassment was quickly forgotten as he delved into her, his tongue swirling around the most sensitive bits of her. She tried to shift her hips to increase the friction a bit but his grip on her was too strong. Skillfully he worked her, his fingers joining his mouth, curling inside of her and stroking her higher and higher until she would nearly come apart only to have him deny her, letting her cool down before driving her up again. Her whimpers became moans and then pleas and outright cries as the need to cum became stronger and stronger, blotting out everything else and making her eyes sting with tears of frustration. When she thought she had reached her limit he sped up the thrusts of his fingers as he pulled her sensitive clit into his mouth and with a shout she exploded, her body gripping his tightly as waves of powerful euphoria washed over her.
Her intense orgasm left Marina shaking and breathless and when he noticed he asked if she were all right. She was still too lost to the high he had driven her to to answer him however and she felt him shift, his body suddenly in front of her and his fingers untangling the scarlet blindfold that covered her eyes. She blinked as it fell away, adjusting to the light in the room while he smoothed her hair back from her face and tried to calm her.
“Shhh, it's okay, I'm right here,” he hummed, his voice pulling her back from whatever distant place she had found herself in. As he pressed his lips to her cheeks she realized they were damp and she looked at him apologetically. His large blue eyes stared back into her own golden brown ones and Marina felt herself calming almost instantly under their tender but concerned gaze.
“I'm sorry, Jared. I guess I just got a little carried away,” she attempted to explain.
Jared reached behind her again, this time attending to the cuffs at her wrists. Once she was free he pulled her hands to her lap, gently rubbing her aching wrists. “I'm the sorry one. I didn't mean to push you that hard.” He attempted to reassure her, lifting one hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on her palm. “Do you need to stop? Are you sure you're okay?”
Marina looked him up and down the way she had wanted to since she realized he might be dressed up. He was in a pale and gauzy champagne silk dress shirt that had had the top half of the buttons opened up. Just enough of his toned chest was revealed to make her mouth water. She knew what was under those clothes. She knew what his body did to her. She was not at all ready to stop.
With a shake of her head, Marina leaned forward, her hands coming to rest lightly on Jared's abdomen. She looked up at him with her lower lip caught behind her teeth, waiting for permission to continue. He gave her a measuring glance and then nodded with a smile, which Marina quickly returned.
Jared's fingers were clever but so were her own and she made short work of his shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling it from his torso with an enthusiastic murmur. Her lips pressed reverently at the heated skin of his chest, trailing downward before stopping to swirl at his navel while she unfastened the slacks he had been wearing. They slid easily down his slender hips and once they and his boxers had been dispatched she let her tongue connect with the velvety skin at the base of him.
Jared groaned and slid his fingers into Marina's thick hair, pulling the fiery mane aside to better watch her work. She grabbed one of his thighs to keep from falling forward and flattened her tongue against his sack, slowly drawing it up his returning erection as his breathing quickened. The other hand joined in to aid her work and when her mouth finally slipped over the tip of his thick shaft she was rewarded with a long hiss of pleasure from Jared. Even as she tried to hollow her cheeks and draw him in she could feel the edges of her mouth fighting to turn up with a smile. She loved the sounds he made, especially when she had him like this, rolling against her tongue while her hand worked his shaft. Every vibrato from her throat was answered with a rumbling from him so deep she could feel it when her forehead bumped against his abdomen,. Sometimes she wasn't sure who enjoyed this more.
Marina tilted her head back to look at up him and found him lost in bliss, head thrown back, long lashes fluttering over closed eyes, his lips slightly parted as he panted in pleasure. This shift in angle must have been perceptible, however, for he quickly opened his eyes, catching her gaze with a smirk. Jared bit his lower lip as he grinned down at her and took her hands in his, moving them until she interlocked them behind her head. Slowly he pushed his hips forward, more of his length disappearing into her slick throat as their eyes stayed locked together. When hers began to water he withdrew, letting her catch her breath before he repeated the exercise, daring a little deeper each time until he felt she had taken all she could. With a moan he stepped away, leaving one hand on her shoulder to steady her.
“Come on darling, let's get you out of that dress,” he told her as he pulled her to her feet. It had become bunched around her torso, no longer the elegant adornment it had started out as. Jared quickly helped her remove it, turning her so that she was facing away from him, naked except for the scarlet bowed shoes he had requested. With a gentle nudge to the inside of her calves, he signaled to her to reposition herself, her feet farther apart as he bent her forward. She was fully on display now for him, and he sighed in appreciation before pressing himself against her.
Marina gripped the back of the elegantly upholstered sofa, her lips trembling ever so slightly as Jared's hands brushed across her shoulders. She could feel his arousal nestled against the cleft of her behind as he leaned over her and the desire to have him inside her was nearly overwhelming. He still seemed to be in no hurry, however, running his lightly calloused fingers over the smooth skin at her sides, his nails scraping across the taut skin of her stomach.
“Please, no more teasing,” she begged,, wiggling her ass against him in an effort to torment him the way she was being tormented. Jared chuckled and gave one of the firm globes a playful swat in response.
“I don't know, darling, are you sure you're ready for me?” he asked as his hands resumed their voyage,
“Yes, please....” Marina whined.
In response his hand dipped between her legs, fingertips lightly brushing against the wetness there. He murmured his approval at the state she was in before plunging two fingers into her, lightly stretching her but straining her patience. Her eyes closed and her head dropped forward as she tightened her grip on the cushion in front of her.
“Oh yes,” he murmured, his lips pressing into her back as he trailed a fresh series of kisses down her spine. “I think that will do quite nicely.”
His hand left her and there was a pause that was filled by the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open. His fingers were then replaced by the broad head of his cock, circling her opening and rubbing against her sensitive clit before inching forward into her. She arched her back and pushed to meet him, her toes curling in pleasure as he filled her.
“Oh yes,” she murmured as he found his rhythm, his hips rolling against her as he hit the perfect angle, one that left sparks going off behind her eyes. She felt him grip her cheeks and pull them open and she turned her head to see him watching the junction between them, the beloved shoes no doubt showcased in the periphery of his vision. He noticed her gaze and grinned back at her before knotting his hand into her hair and giving it a sharp tug, causing her to bow even further and allowing him to dive all the deeper into her hungry depths.
She could feel the heat starting to build in her core, that feral something that coiled just behind that most sensitive spot in her and told her that her climax was close. She managed to whimper out his name in warning and Jared growled back an acknowledgment, his hands moving to her throat, tipping her chin back and pulling her towards him. Marina reached behind her to steady herself, grabbing his sides as he increased his assault until she was coming apart around him. He had to change his grip quickly to keep her from falling over as the euphoria engulfed her and her legs threatened to give way. Soon, however, he was following her into that headlong rush into oblivion, calling her name as he emptied himself into the sheath surrounding him.
Carefully he laid her down on the sofa beneath them before excusing himself to clean up. He returned a minute later with several plush robes and bottles of water, helping her to wrap up before pulling her into his arms and offering her a drink. Marina gratefully took a draw of the cool liquid before laying her head on Jared's chest. As she gazed out at their bodies tangled together she smiled to see those heels, still tied firmly in place. Jared followed her gaze and smiled too when he realized what she was looking at.
“I'll buy you a dozen pairs of those shoes if you promise you'll keep wearing them for me, darling.” he murmured as he kissed the top of her head.
Marina laughed. “Did you come to visit me or the shoes?”
“You, of course,” he chuckled as he pulled her just a little tighter. "But the shoes certainly were a welcome addition."
A/N : Sorry about coming in just under the wire here. I got this started then got sidetracked.
C/W: SMUT
Shannon bursts through the door to find Holly huddled in the middle of the bed, only her face visible from underneath the wrappings of the hotel comforter. He sets the bags he is carrying down on the nearest surface before pulling off his sodden jacket and giving his hair a shake. “Babe, could you grab me a towel? I’m soaked to the bone,” he asks before he starts stripping.
Holly frowns and pouts but ultimately puts her anxiety aside for a moment to go and fetch a big white towel from the bathroom rack. When she returns he is already down to his briefs which cling wetly to his frame and leave nothing to the imagination. Another time she would have enjoyed the view, but right now she is too distracted. “I thought you got blown away out there,” she says as she hands the towel over.
Shannon chuckled as he wipes down, then grabs some dry clothes. “I know I’m fun sized but I’m not ‘blow away in a strong storm’ small.” Holly rolls her eyes as he heads into the bathroom. “I’m freezing. Wish the lightning would let up so I could take a shower.”
With a scowl, Holly climbs back under the comforter and listens to the rain and wind beating against the hotel windows while she waits for Shannon to return. She has never liked thunderstorms, not since she was a little girl, and being stuck on the side of a mountain in a motel during one whopper of a severe storm is not exactly doing wonders for her state of mind.
Shannon is back out quickly, now in a comfortable t-shirt and sweats with warm fuzzy socks on. He heads back to the table where he had discarded his shopping when he arrived and grabs the two big mugs of coffee, handing one to Holly. “Here, this should warm you up if you’re that cold.”
Embarrassed, Holly lowers the blanket a little and takes the mug from him. It is warm and smells nutty and comforting. “Thank you.”
Shannon gives her a reassuring smile. He knows that she is scared, not cold, but he doesn’t want to cause her any additional embarrassment. This is the third thunderstorm they have weathered together since they began dating, and she was similarly frightened the last time. She won’t tell him why, however, and tries to appear to be simply cold, or bored, or wanting to snuggle. He is happy to play along.
He goes back to the bags he has carried in and starts setting up shop. They have been out riding, this was supposed to be a bike tour of the mountains, so they don’t have a lot with them when the storm pops up and drives them into the Motorcycle Resort at Deal’s Gap. He was looking forward to their ride along The Devil’s Tail but that will have to wait. Right now they have to get through this storm.
While Holly watches, Shannon starts placing candles strategically around the room and lighting them. She turns the television to the Weather Channel and Shannon shakes his head and takes the remote from her. “You’ll just drive yourself crazy with that, Hol. It’s just a storm. It will pass.” When Holly squints her eyes and stares back defiantly at him he mutes the sound but leaves the channel on.
Unhappy with the compromise but trying not to be any more difficult than necessary, Holly sighs and climbs back up on the bed, and Shannon meets her there with the rest of his purchases. He dumps the first bag out onto the middle of the blankets, and it is full of junk food – chips and candy and pastries, piles of it. Holly’s eyes grow wide. “You aren’t seriously going to eat this are you?”
“No, WE are,” Shannon laughs. “It’s storm supplies. A tradition from hurricane country. I’ll let you have first choice.”
With a shake of her head, Holly picks through the pile and finds a package of peanut butter cups, her favorite. She places them in front of her and Shannon smiles before making a choice himself. Soon the larger pile has turned into two smaller ones and Shannon opens a packet of chips before producing the second bag. He pulls out a small box and places it between them.
“Okay, so I was going to get a card game to keep us occupied, like maybe Uno or Phase 10, but this is what they had left at the gift shop. Besides, I thought it might be more fun.” His smile is at once mischievous and shy in a way that Holly has only ever seen Shannon manage, and he waits to see what her reaction is going to be.
Holly picks up the box and reads the title out loud. “Date Night. A Game for couples.” She takes in the grin on Shannon’s face again. “Seriously? Sex games? Right now?”
“It would take your mind off things…” Shannon’s purrs at her, giving her that adorable double wink that melts her resistance every time.
“Jesus, Shan. You are the horniest man I have ever known.”
“Thank you,” he says with a laugh, taking the box from her and opening it up. He hands her the instructions while he sets it up, unfolding the game board and setting out different stacks of cards and dice. The gameplay, it turns out, is pretty straightforward, moving around the board with dice and taking cards as they land on the appropriate spaces. The cards escalate in intimacy with each trip around the board, and special cards are held until the end, with the winner choosing a fantasy scenario for the couple to engage in based on the cards they have collected.
“I just don’t know if I’m in the mood for this, Shannon,” Holly says as a particularly intense gust of wind drives the rain against the window so hard it sounds as if someone is throwing rocks against it.
“Babe we can stop any time if gets to be too much for you. But I think the distraction will do you good. I think you’ll have fun if you give it a try. I’ll certainly try to give you reasons to smile,” he tells her as he winks again.
Holly can’t help but laugh. She is frightened by the raging storm outside but the man in front of her seems like a good antidote. “All right,” she says as she picks up the dice. “Who’s turn?”
“I think this is a good time for the ladies first rule,” Shannon says as he pulls his legs underneath him and pops another chip in his mouth. “But you’re going to have to come out from under that comforter eventually. I don’t think there are many cards that include 'Fondle Comforter’ as their action.”
Holly rolls her eyes and gives the dice a toss, the blanket still around her. She advances to a blank spot. “Well, I guess I can stay under here.”
Shannon picks up the dice and rolls for himself He lands on an action card and since it is the first trip around the board, he chooses from the beginning pile. “Kiss your partner’s shoulder” he reads aloud.
Holly sighs and lowers the blanket. Shannon leans across the board, one hand on the bed to balance himself as he takes the other and pulls the t-shirt she has been wearing aside. His full lips gently press against the tender spot, lingering for a few moments while they draw a small trail to her clavicle. The contact is short and simple but when Shannon pulls back and sits up again Holly can feel the warmth starting effuse her limbs and she sighs ever so slightly.
“I saw that,” Shannon smirks but his mirth is cut short by a bright flash and clap of thunder so loud it makes his ears ring. Holly screams and is in his lap before the sound has even died away. It takes a few seconds after that to realize that the power has gone out and they are now cuddling by candlelight.
“I want to go home, Shannon,” Holly whines into his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Shh, babe. I know. But it’s not safe to travel out there. We’re safe where we’re at right now. I’m watching out for you. It’s going to be okay,” he tells her as he strokes her dark hair and rocks her gently. When there are no more flashes of lightning her grip starts to relax and Shannon is able to pry her arms away from his neck.
“I’m sorry,” Holly mumbles but she makes no move to return to her spot on the other side of the game board.
“Uhm, Hol… You’re crushing my Ding Dongs and I don’t mean that euphemistically.”
Holly looks down and realizes she is on top of his pile of junk food and abashedly retreats to her former position. She straightens out her own pile of snacks and tries to restore the game board to its previous configuration.
“Does this mean you still want to play?” Shannon asks.
Holly looks at him, his hair still a little damp from his earlier trek into the rain but starting to fluff up in that unruly way that it has, a hopeful smile on his face. Something in her stirs again and just for a second, she forgets her fear. “Sure. We have to do something to pass the time,” she concedes before opening the package of peanut butter crackers in her pile.
“Well, it’s your turn I believe.”
Holly gets to draw a card this time and she reads its action with a giggle. “Lick your partner’s elbow. Who the hell is writing these?”
Shannon laughs and eagerly shimmies his hips as he thrusts his arm at her. “You read the instructions. Let’s go.”
Holly leans forward and grasps his arm turning it until the crook of his elbow is facing her. Feeling just a little silly she runs her tongue up the smooth flesh there, giving him a little nip just as she pulls away.
“Now I’m sure that didn’t say anything about biting,” Shannon protests.
“I improvised,” she says with a shrug.
Shannon rolls the dice and advances his piece, landing on a Fantasy card which he tucks away with a smirk before handing the dice back to Holly. She rolls and lands on another action square. “Kiss your partner’s neck.”
Shannon grins even larger than the last time. The storm doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all and Holly envies his ability to tune out the staccato beats of the rain and the howling wind that sounds so menacing to her. She focuses on him, or more specifically his neck, that triad tattoo that is always begging to be licked, and she leans in and nuzzles him. He tilts his head to the side for her and she inhales deeply, taking in his scent that at once calms her nerves and excites her core. With a whimper she lets her lips graze over the slightly stubbled skin closer to his jawline before she pulls back reluctantly.
Shannon, of course, takes the dice next, and to Holly’s relief, he finally draws an action card. Instead of leaning over the board as she has been doing he scoots around the side so he is sitting next to her. “This seems like a better spot,” he tells her before he takes her foot in his hand, extending her leg and drawing it towards his mouth. He feathers a series of kisses from her ankle to the middle of her calf and the soft brush of his lips makes her toes curl.
They continue around the board like that for the first round, drawn cards resulting in teasing little contacts, Holly acquiring three Fantasy cards to Shannon’s two. She is in the lead as round two begins and gets the first action card. “Have your partner remove an article of clothing of your choice.”
Shannon waggles his eyebrows at her. “Whatcha wanna see, baby?”
Holly smiles, the storm which has calmed to a steady curtain of rain fading into the corners of her awareness. “Take the shirt off,” she purrs.
“Guns out, got it,” Shannon says as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. With the power out and all the candles going it has gotten a little stuffy in the small motel room and he’s happy to be shed of the layer. He doesn’t fail to notice, however, the way Holly’s eyes are dancing in the flickering light. “My turn.”
Shannon draws an action card as well and once he has read it he doesn’t even reveal it to Holly, just cups the back of her head in his broad palm and pulls her in for the taste he has been dying to have since the game began. He feels her sigh into the kiss, her hand resting lightly on his thigh as he takes his time with her. Every little contact seems to calm her a bit more, and he notices when he breaks away that her eyes stay closed for a minute longer than necessary and her breathing is deep and slow. “Did I put you into a trance?” he teases.
Holly’s eyes flutter open and even in the soft light, he can see that she blushes. She gives her head a little shake and rolls the dice, landing on a blank spot with no action. Her face shows her disappointment.
Shannon rolls again and gets a fantasy card. Holly picks the dice up for her turn and advances to another actionless spot on the board. “You know,” Shannon points out, “we don’t have to keep playing, we can just skip straight to the Fantasy portion fo the game…”
Holly laughs and shoves the dice into his hand. “Roll em, Leto. This was your bright idea. Don’t quit on me now.”
Shannon gives the dice another roll and gets a strip card of his own. He instructs Holly to remove her shirt and she blushes as she does so. She had simply put on something comfortable when they came in off the road and she left her damp bra hanging in the bathroom. It’s nothing Shannon hasn’t seen loads of times before, she tells herself, but it seems so odd to just sit there like that, surrounded by Fritos and Snickers Bars, rolling dice and drawing cards while they both pretend like Shannon isn’t staring at her tits. “Okay, go!” She finally admonishes him when sits there a little too long without taking his turn.
By the end of the second round, Holly is down to her panties and Shannon has, without prompting, removed his sweats and socks. “So you’ll feel more comfortable,” he explains but Holly is sure he’s just eager to get to the finish line.
The first action card of the third round makes Holly’s eyes grow wide. “Wow, this round is really stepping it up,” she laughs nervously. Shannon tries to take the card from her but she quickly shoves it underneath the pile on the board before placing her hands on his chest and pushing him back onto the bed.
Shannon watches with eyes wide as Holly straddles his legs. She bites at her lower lip as she makes eye contact, her fingers grazing over his chest and stomach before grabbing the waistband of his boxers. Shannon lifts his hips as she tugs the garment down, his breathing already quickening in anticipation.
Holly wraps her hand around his thick shaft, which is starting to awake but still not quite ready for the occasion. “Count down from thirty,” she instructs him as she descends on him, running her tongue along the soft underside of his shaft as her hands firmly stroke him to attention. She teases him until he gets to ten, running her tongue over the sensitive tip before sinking her mouth onto him. He moans as he hits the back of her warm throat and forgets to keep counting until Holly lightly slaps his stomach. At zero she pulls away as quickly as she began, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before grinning mischievously at Shannon.
Shannon sits up with a groan. “Give me those dice,” he says as he reaches past Holly. Fate is not on his side however and he lands on another rest spot. He thrusts the dice back at her with a grumble.
Holly gets another action card and tucks it under the pile as quickly as the first time. Shannon looks at her hopefully and she smiles, leaning into him and brushing her lips against his neck again, She can feel Shannon sigh at the contact, and she wonders if he realized how much teasing was going to be involved with this game. She doubts his patience is going to last all the way through this round but that is fine with her. She’s not sure hers will either. For as much as Shannon seems to be getting needier by the second, she is acutely aware of how flushed her skin is, how her breathing hitches and her core aches every time she touches him.
Holly lets her teeth scrape across his earlobe as her hand travels up his thigh, wrapping once again around his cock which by now is rock hard and heavy in her hand. She strokes him slowly, not wanting to give too much away, feeling the way his hips tighten and he twitches and pants. These thirty seconds seem to pass even more quickly than the first set, and as she returns to her own upright position she sees Shannon’s lips parted and his eyes closed in pleasure as he tries to reign himself in.
“I swear to God, Hol…” he growls.
“Just roll,” she says as she thrusts the dice into his hand again. He rolls and lands on an action card, which he snatches from the top of the deck with a triumphant shout.
Before she has a chance to try to guess what he is doing, Shannon has Holly flattened on her back, his knees on either side of her hips as he grins down at her. She feels her stomach flip in anticipation before he lowers himself down, taking into his hand one of the breasts he has been eyeing since the previous round. He flicks his calloused thumb across the nipple, causing Holly to arch her back with a whimper. Greedily he takes her other nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his teeth and tongue while she whimpers and squirms underneath him. He knows by now that she has very sensitive nipples, he’s even made her cum a few times just from playing with them, and the sounds she is making as he teases those tender peaks dissolve any willpower he might have had left.
Shannon switches his mouth to her other breast, the one he was toying with previously, and he leaves his hand there, kneading the firm flesh and as he draws the pink nipple into his mouth, stretching it and releasing it with a little pop when Holly cries out. He switches again as she twists her fingers into his hair, sliding one knee between her legs so that it presses against her drenched but still pantie clad core.
“Ungh,” Holly moans as the pressure turns her arousal up to an even more frantic level. “Isn’t that more than thirty seconds?”
“Fuck thirty seconds and fuck that game,” Shannon growls as his hands move to her hips, grasping her pink panties and yanking them down her legs. Holly knew it would come to this but she chuckles anyway, watching as Shannon tosses her underwear aside and settles himself back over her, still growling and purring like a jungle cat. Her laughter dies in her throat at the intensity of his gaze, hungry and wild, and she gasps as he flattens her into the bed with a powerful kiss.
Once his lips leave hers, Holly barely has a chance to catch her breath before Shannon is back at her breasts, roughly strumming his thumbs across their peaks as he licks and bites his way down her sternum. Holly whimpers and grabs at the sheets underneath her, overwhelmed by the sudden ferocity of his need. His mouth travels lower and his hands along with it, his nails raising a trail of gooseflesh as they move down her sides and across her hips. He grabs her thighs roughly, hauling her into the position he wants as he parts them wide. The pieces spill from the game board and Shannon lets go of her long enough to sweep them, the board and all their snacks onto the floor.
“My turn now and there’s not going to be any stopping after thirty seconds,” he announces before nipping at the inside of her thigh. He inhales her scent, rich and familiar, and feels his cock twitch in response. “Soon Buddy” he mentally tells himself before flattening his tongue against Holly’s glistening folds. He isn’t surprised at how wet for him she is, he knows what effect his has on her, but he loves it just the same.
“Fuck, Shannon, yes….” she moans, her fingers once again in his hair. He swirls his tongue through her sex, sucking her clit into his mouth and drumming it with his tongue while she squeals. She tries to squirm away, she is sensitive and Shannon is particularly demanding tonight but he just grips her thighs harder, anchoring her in place as his mouth does maddening things to her. He leads her to the trembling edge of her climax before he releases her and she whimpers in protest.
Shannon repositions himself, hips ready as his thick shaft comes to rest against her own aroused core. Normally he would tease her a bit at this point, sliding himself between those damp folds as he allows his tongue to explore more of her ivory skin but something in him has been awakened either by the game or the storm that spills torrents of water just outside their window, and he guides himself into her without any further foreplay.
Holly is surprised when he enters her so quickly, filling her with one long stroke that makes her shudder and grasp at his back hard enough for her nails to break the skin. This only spurs Shannon on, deep sounds rumbling from his chest as he grabs her hard and his hips drive roughly into her. She gasps and cries out his name, the sound odd in the still air. Shannon grunts and licks his lips before leaning back, grabbing her thighs once again to pull her onto him as he pistons at her. She grabs for anything she can as his back retreats from her reach, slipping over the sheets until her hands reach his thighs. He growls again as her nails dig into him then pulls away entirely, leaving her empty and stunned.
She doesn’t have long to ponder what has gotten into him before he flips her over and places her on her knees in front of him. Holly looks back to see him gazing down at her, eyes heavy with lust as he drags the wide head of his shaft through her folds before slamming forward once again. Her breath leaves her for a moment as his onslaught begins again. It almost seems to her that he is keeping rhythm with the rain outside, its intensity mirrored in the motion of his hips, and she prays that the storm doesn’t pick up again for a very different reason than her earlier one.
His hands are underneath her now, sliding up her smooth stomach to cup her breasts as he rolls his hips for a new angle on her pleasure. Everything liquid in her blood is boiling now and the heat forms a burning pool just behind her center that promises to consume her once it spills over. She is shaking and swearing, her fingers in her mouth as she tries to quiet the sounds she is sure can be heard all through the small motel but Shannon doesn’t seem to care. He pulls out of her again and flips her around once more, hauling her to the edge of the bed while he stands and repositions himself. She is ready this time when he fills her again with that same single stroke.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Shannon shouts as he pushes her legs wide, watching himself disappear into her tight and soaking depths. She is mewling underneath him, and he can tell from the way she is twitching and tightening around him she is close to her release. He grabs one leg and pulls it against his chest, increasing his leverage as he pounds into her. Her other leg wraps around his waist, anchoring him to her. He wasn’t aware of how much frustration he had built up on the road until they started, he had been too busy keeping Holly calm in the face of the storm, but now that he has let go he doesn’t stop himself from claiming her. He isn’t even sure if he could and she doesn’t seem to want him to anyway. She seems to be enjoying this side of him as much as he is relieved to let it lose.
When she finally comes apart with a shout and a sound almost like a sob, he is ready, barely holding back while she convulses around him. As soon as she has finished he spins her around, her head now at the edge of the bed. She quickly understands what he wants and opens her mouth, taking him in with a greedy moan. He lasts on a few strokes in that delicious warmth and he grabs the back of her head as he comes apart with a shudder. Once he has emptied himself he falls onto the bed next to her, pulling her against his chest while they both try to regulate their breathing again.
As the sounds of their panting die away the air is once again filled with the rhythm of the rain against the window and the pavement, steady but calmer, as if its passion is spent now too. Holly snuggles into the crook of Shannon’s arm, kissing the sweaty skin on his chest, feeling his heart slow back down to normal levels. She is calmer than she has been since the storms started and the candlelight is soothing. In no time she has drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms.
When Shannon wakes up in the morning the rain is hammering the pavement outside their window again and the power is back on. Holly isn’t next to him and when he looks around she is picking up the mess on the floor, the one he made when he flung everything off the bed in his fit of passion the previous night.
“Good morning,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”
Holly smiles back up at him. “It’s okay. I just hope I can find all the pieces. This game is definitely a keeper.”
