He let his kisses and nips drift further down her chest for a moment before he was pulling back, leaning over her again and trapping her against the counter. “You do realize I’m not stopping right? Not now.” Not when they’d started and come this far. His tone with her was stronger than usual, putting something out that and almost daring her to dispute it.
December was a huge fan of being trapped against the counter. God, that sent shivers through her. "Quit fucking talking, Michael." she said in a little growl, reaching out to grab his hair again and pull him closer. He could get to it now. Right now.
That was new. She called him by his full name every so often, usually when she meant serious business, but here, in this setting, it was something else. He kept leaning over her, still mostly trapping her, but slipped both hands up her skirt to actually work her underwear off this time, and not to gently. "Call me that again," he told her, voice edging with his own demand. Her underwear were dropped on the floor as well and his hand was back up her skirt, touching her to see if it would affect the way she said his name this time.
All of this was good for December. It really, really was. It worked for her better than she would have thought. Maybe it was his tone, that sort of commanding undertone to it that set her off. Whatever it was, it was working. She gasped when he touched her, glad he finally had, so he'd know just how well he was doing there. "Michael." she said, voice unsteady.
Mickey had a rush of emotions at what he was finding with his hand up her skirt, but it didn’t stop him from pushing further, fingers teasing, then suddenly not, and slipping into her. His mouth was near her ear, voice low and gruff, just for her. “Say it again,” he told her, hoping for that same unsteadiness, maybe even a little more.
He did get a little more, a sharp little cry as she arched her back toward him. "Michael," she said, voice a little rougher, a little less steady. God, he could sound like that all the time, now. She liked that note in his voice.
Mickey was fairly certain he might have found his thing. The change in her voice, the way it distorted his name, he liked that. He liked that a lot. It had him working his fingers, trying to wind her up more than she already was, and it had his free hand going to her ribbons, tugging on purpose before holding on to them again.
Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was leaning back, sensations rocketing through her. Yeah. It had been way way too long since she'd felt like this. Since she understood just how good something could feel. When he added the ribbons to it, she rocked back forward toward him, reaching up to dig her nails into the backs of his shoulders.
The other look she'd been after, that was starting on his features. He hissed as she dug her nails in, so close to to the tender skin from the new tattoo, but he didn't stop her. In fact it jus stopped him pulling his hands away from her to fumble with his pants, not wanting to wait or draw anything else out. He'd wanted this, he'd wanted her, for too damn long to slow down or fool around.
When he went for his pants, December helped. She reached down, shoving his clothes down over his hips when they were open enough to allow it, and she grabbed hold of him, giving a hard stroke while she was at it.
He was relieved for the help, especially when it gave him the opportunity to push her skirt up more towards her waist. Her hands on him, that had him gasping, fingers gripping her thighs as he tried to stay in control. After a ragged breath he had most of his wits about him, pushing her legs further apart and dragging her to the edge of the counter to make things easier. It left him supporting more of her weight, but the moment he was inside her, it was the last thing he cared about.
December gave a sharp cry, then kissed him again. It was short, though, the angle not as easy with their height difference, even with the counter helping that out. Instead she went to kiss along his neck, nipping as she went.