coyote (sister_coyote) wrote in ironman7, @ 2007-08-27 20:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | fullmetal alchemist, sister_coyote, week 2: prompt 4 |
Fullmetal Alchemist (Greed/Martel) [week 2, prompt 4]
Title: Most Gratifying Thing
Author: Sister Coyote
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 500
Summary: Her mouth opens to his, her tongue flickering in a way that no human could match.
The most gratifying thing about fucking Greed is the way he doesn't shy away when Martel's movements turn inhuman.
Sex standing up is a lot more secure than it otherwise would be, between his strength and her legs coiled tight around his waist and thighs. Her mouth opens to his, her tongue flickering in a way that no human could match. They don't even need a hard surface. She's got all the leverage she needs.
He pulls his mouth off hers to put it next to her ear, and at first there's just the hungry cadence of his breath in time with his cock between her legs. She flicks her tongue against his throat, tasting sweat. She's thinking of pressing fangs against his pulse-point when he says, "Why don't you show me what this body can do?"
For an instant she's genuinely angry. What was done to her body without her consent still fills her with rage; she's no one's sex toy. But the moment passes, and she thinks, hell, might as well get some use out of it. She goes fluid, tensing her muscles -- they listen to her better now than ever before; one advantage, at least -- from the tips of her fingers, down her shoulders, her spine, her cunt... He groans, a rich appreciative noise, and says, "Good. Use it. I can feel every single muscle in your cunt." He kisses her throat. "I want more."
It's not a request, but she's so perversely pleased that the display didn't put him off that she complies, this time in reverse: toes, thighs, cunt, belly, breasts pressing against him. He gets his hands firmly under her ass and pulls her hard onto him, and the sound she makes isn't a scream but a hiss; just enough discomfort in the pleasure to make her bite down, instinctively, into his shoulder. Her teeth skitter on the shield that forms beneath her mouth, but, to her relief, don't chip.
"Hungry?" he asks, and then kisses her: his tongue intense, forceful. "Show me what you've got." She arches and tenses, rubbing long and slow on him -- and then his hands are on her shoulders, pushing down, hard, against the strength of her body, until the head of his cock hits just the right spot and she sees white, cries out.
"Give it to me," he says, fucking her suddenly hard, holding her in place so the base of his cock rubs against her clit. She wants to hold out, knows she can't. Heat throbs between her legs and spreads out, and she hisses again, her skin rippling and twitching against him as she comes.
And yet, even as bizarre as that is, he doesn't stop. He keeps on at the same demanding pace, supporting her, and says, "Not finished with you yet." She smiles and bares her teeth against his neck.