bloodofithuriel | (no subject)

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( it's every bit evident when those fingers dig into her, when he says her name like that just before hips withdraw that she's likely damned herself with her own pride, but when had she ever turned down a challenge he'd given her? even when they were young, all he'd have to do was turn it into an 'i bet you can't,' or 'i bet you won't, and she'd prove him wrong every time.

but this? all of this heat and need and pent up frustration from being dragged to this city in the first place, despite her guise, she's not sure how long she'll be able to keep herself quiet. she's not sure if she wants to. what's more, the last thing she wants is for him to hide his own sounds, listening attentively to every hitch of his breath, every tone that growls and scratches its way free. he sheathes himself into her again and she's clawing her way down one side of his back, chest bowing to feel his skin against her own.

that silk slip barely manages to stay in place, held there by the crook of her arms. she bites at her lips but it doesn't silence that noise, digging her heel into him as if to encourage him further. lips fumble up to his ear again, letting a hot breath curl against it. )

I need it. Need you.

[ Jace is starting to forget why he's supposed to be quiet, especially when Izzy moves against him like that, when he hears her own ragged breathing and he leans into her, pushing her more solidly against the wall, pressing against skin to skin so he can use the wall to half hold them both up as he increases his pace and shifts the angle just enough to he can drag himself against her walls with every thrust. ]

You've got me, Izzy.

[ His mouth finds hers with a frenzied heat, moaning against her lips as he takes them in a kiss full of lust and want and need. She wants him? She can have him, all that he has in this moment, thrusting into her like he can't get enough, kissing her like she's his only source of air. ]

( how quickly she's turned into a needy thing within his arms, how willingly she banishes that dare in favor of losing herself in him, the notes of his shampoo and a slight tinge of sweat clouding her senses, how that swell of pressure from being filled comes with a little more give. he's never had her, never been told a breaths worth of what she liked, what she preferred, and yet he cants his hips in a way that nudges his tip up against those hidden spots within her and she's grateful for his mouth seeking out her own.

a clip of a whimper twines with that moan of his and the kiss is messy, distracted, unaware of just how harshly she takes that lower pout of his between her teeth. she'd told him she didn't want gentle and she'd meant it, not here, not when there's enough trust to let him see what she really needed, to drive him there.

she's drunk off the sound of him, her name echoing again and again, over and over in a way only he could say it, a way she'd never thought she'd be so desperate to hear. it's a lack of control in her current position that makes her all the more antsy, famished, that kiss coming in detached pieces between pants in time with each of his thrusts. forehead presses against his, lifting her weight with what leverage she has to curve in to him with every hit. )

Harder. ( she's not afraid to ask for it. maybe he didn't know what he was getting into, indulging her this way, but she's intent to let him find out. )

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