[ She's certain she's not misinterpreting the situation here; as much as he wants to protest verbally, his feet are still taking him across the brief distance from his designated side of the room to the one she's asserted for herself, and when he does that she slowly uncrosses her legs before rising to stand.
Even with his advantage over her in height, and the fact that she only has the bed behind her, the mattress bumping into her calves, she lifts her chin to meet him, establishing her own space in spite of it meaning that they're almost pressed flush against one another. ]
Could be we are a pair of unfeeling fucks. [ And without much preamble or warning at all, she slaps him across the face with her other, open palm; it's as much a spur to action as it is an attempt to see what he'll do once she strikes him. ] Feel that?
( he feels that. he feels that even more because he's not expecting it and it jars him, stinging and setting him on edge immediately. he looks back at her, jaw tight and grabs for her shoulders, twisting them around and shoving her into the center of the room. )
Barely.
( there's going to be a red mark on his cheek despite his bravado. he steps closer to her and shoves again. )
Come on, go again. You want to play rough, let's go.
[ The tension in the room is a thicker one, strong enough to nearly be sliced through with some sort of blade; she could hear a pin drop in the time between her hand striking him across the face and him grabbing hold of her shoulders, turning her into the room until her feet stagger from being tilted off her central axis of gravity.
She hadn't hit him with the tendency to really make it hurt; there's only a light sting on her palm, and the knowledge that if she'd wanted to leave a brighter mark beneath that thick beard of his, she could have.
She can't pretend there's no satisfaction for her in doing it, and this time, she uses the momentum of stumbling across the room to swing herself upright and backhand him across the face, striking across his mouth directly. The pain bursts across her knuckles and she knows she's made a bigger impact, but instead of saying anything at all, she watches him, the sleeve of her robe slipping down to expose one shoulder as she takes another swig directly from the bottle she's grasping onto with her other hand. ]
( again, she surprises him by how strong she is and how quick. he sneers at her, reaching a hand up to touch the spot against the side of his mouth that she's struck. his fingers curl into fists and he wants to hit her more than anything but —
he doesn't. instead, he lunges forward and grabs her around the neck, shoving her backwards into the nearest wall. he pulls her off the wall with that grip on her neck and then slams her back again, leaning in close. )
[ Most of her body goes taut, then, when he reaches out and clasps a hand around her throat — not squeezing, not trying to throttle her, but only holding there — and it means she's a little more prepared to meet the wall with some level of resistance rather than allow herself to be flung against it by some limp doll.
And for some reason, even when he hauls her away from the wall and then shoves her back again, her face splits into a broad grin, the sudden show of force introducing adrenaline, which in turn prompts her to feel giddy. Or it could be the shitty alcohol going to her head.
Regardless, it means that as he leans in, she can surge forward just enough, fighting against the hold he has on her neck, and crush her mouth to his in a nipping, biting kiss, sucking on his lower lip with a deep moan in her throat. ]
( so, that's what this is going to be, then. billy can't say that he really fucking minds. he'd been half expecting her to retaliate with something much more violent but he can't say he minds this either.
she tastes like the shitty alcohol and there's something else underneath there, something he can't place but he doesn't think too long on. he surges forward, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her against him, biting at her lips when he kisses her, letting it sting and burn where they touch. )
[ It's not as though there's anything that gentle about how she kisses him — there's a biting, ravenous quality to it, something hard enough to potentially even draw blood although it somehow manages to stop just shy of actually doing so.
Besides, she's more than prepared to break the kiss off suddenly before slapping him across the face again, though now it's not even in an effort to harm him or cause pain — not that it was even done with that intent before. She's just seeking sensation in the sting against her palm, trying to rouse him into meeting her with an equally clutching energy, wanting rough everywhere they make contact with one another.
Beneath the robe she's bare, still lightly smelling of the hot springs in the sim room, and the rasp of his clothing through that thin layer is another sensation to add right to the rest of it as he holds her right against him, as she pants lightly while her gaze searches his face, her own expression inscrutable. ]
( she keeps smacking him and it's making it harder and harder to resist retaliating in kind. it sets the blood boiling in his veins, heart thudding as she smacks him and kisses him, staying close to him the entire time.
his mouth is a hard line as she looks at him and then he reaches out and grabs her by the neck again, squeezes tightly and shoves her away from him. he takes the time that distance gives him to pull his shirt off and toss it away before he stalks forward again, grabbing her by that robe and yanking her back, uncaring if he rips it.
he curves a hand around her chin this time, forcing her face near his so he can kiss her roughly. )
[ The shove he delivers is hard enough to make her stumble across the room, but only by a few steps; she doesn’t fall, regaining her equilibrium the second she’s away from the heat of his body, but she only has the briefest second to make note of him stripping his shirt off before he reaches for her again.
The sound of tearing fabric definitely reaches her hearing, and after that the sleeve of her robe hangs loose down her arm, baring her shoulder and the top of her chest, but she’s hardly in the place of mind to care about it. ]
You’re such a brute — [ But when he grabs hold of her chin, steering her face up to his, she doesn’t need to be led the rest of the way, swerving up to kiss him in a clash of lips and teeth as she winds her arms around his body, raking fingers through his hair. She’ll count on him to bear both of their weights as she draws one leg up at the knee along his hip, which prompts the both of them to stagger as her body tilts into his, before they both collide with the desk in the room and knock several items onto the floor in the process. She turns them then so that she can seat herself on it, hauling him in between the open vee of her thighs, her hand cupping the back of his neck to yank him down to her mouth again. ]
( billy's definitely been called worse but he doesn't give a shit either. he holds onto her when she lifts her leg and staggers a bit, slamming into a desk and scattering items. he doesn't think anything's shattered but he doesn't give a shit either. whatever it is, it's replaceable.
when she hefts herself up onto the desk, he steps into the space between her legs automatically and reaches for the other sleeve of the robe, tearing it and then pulling it open at the front. )
[ There may be at least one broken item or two on the floor by the time she hoists herself up on the desk, not content to rely on him to do it for her, but it doesn't matter; seated like this, her bare feet are clear from anything she might happen to step on, though her weight makes the desk rattle and knock tellingly against the wall as he veers forward into her space, tearing her robe open to expose her down to the waist. ]
It doesn't. [ If it bothered her enough, she wouldn't be seeking this from him — or even exchanging as many words before attempting sleep. ] Just worth noting.
[ When she wrenches her arms free of the ripped sleeves, letting the robe pool around her waist and hips, it gives her opportunity to bring her hands to his arms, palms running up his biceps before sliding across his chest so that she can rake her nails over his skin, down his stomach. It's not hard enough to draw blood, but more rough sensation to awaken the nerves on the descent down toward the waist of his trousers. ]
( she doesn't draw blood but he wouldn't be surprised if he didn't end up with welts when this was all said and done. good thing he doesn't mind that. billy doesn't look down when he feels her hands head towards his pants, reaching instead around her to slide his fingers through her hair and get a hold.
a moment later, he pulls back on it sharply, trying to catch her off guard. he doesn't wait for her to say anything before leaning forward and pressing his mouth to her neck, finding the spot where shoulder meets throat and biting down. if she's going to leave some marks on him, he's going to do the same to her. she can heal it with her magic if she gets all offended and shit later. )
[ She should've expected the fingers in her hair, the sudden and sharp yank that jerks her head back enough to bare the line of her throat, but the quickness of it is still enough to prompt a low grunt from her lips, one that turns into something closer to a gasp as he mouths the juncture between neck and shoulder and then sinks his teeth into the skin.
It completely disrupts her intention of getting his pants unfastened, but she's content with being waylaid, drawing her hands around his body and hooking her fingers through his beltloops to bring him flush against her, her pants rough and punctuating in his ear as she rocks her hips, rubbing herself over a certain stiffening outline through the scratching material that's bound to leave marks on her inner thighs. ]
( he would say sorry that he's so distracting but he's not sorry at all. he's actually pretty smug about the fact that he'd managed to distract her from taking off his pants even if he loses out on that too.
but he's confident in the fact that they'll get the pants off him soon enough if they both really want to. he slips in closer to her and licks a line up the side of her neck and then to her ear, sucking at the lobe before he grabs at her dress to try and start rucking it up. she doesn't need to take it off, they can just shove things aside and down and make it work.
he makes it hard on himself, the whole dress thing, by rocking into her, pressing his hips to hers and cursing low under his breath. )
[ There's not much between his hands and her skin now; the upper half of her robe is likely torn, the rest of it being pressed up over her thighs as they clash, and she can feel his calloused palms grazing lines over her, scratching. She's bare beneath, nothing left clinging to her except perhaps whatever traces of the simulation room might still carry over from that hot soak in the water, and his touch evokes a full shiver from her when he drags his tongue up along the curve of her neck to her earlobe.
It's too distracting, facing him like this; she shoves him back from her, several paces away, and then slides forward to the edge of the desk, but he's standing at enough of a distance now so that when she drops down to stand on her feet and slowly turns around, leaning forward over the flat surface with one hand braced in front of her and the other slowly dragging up her robe from the back, she won't be required to tell him exactly what she wants and how she wants it. ]
( that is a very powerful way to tell him what she wants, isn't it? for a second, all billy does is just watch, letting himself enjoy the sight of her bent over the desk, hiking her skirt up and showing him her ass.
he swallows, shoving at his pants and shorts down just enough that he can get a hand around his dick and give it a few strokes and squeezes. he steps in closer to her, slapping a hand down on the desk besides her and pressing his cock the curve of her ass.
he rocks against her, hard and hot, biting at the curve of her shoulder because he can. )
[ For the briefest instant, she thinks he's only going to stand there and look at her with her skirt hoisted up over her hips, clear presentation in how she angles herself in her preference for him to fuck her — but then the shift of movement behind her, the sound of rustling clothing, is soon followed by the hot length of his cock slapping on her and she grunts, leaving her skirt hitched up on her waist as she braces a hand down over the desk, feeling him curve over her as he starts to rut against her backside.
It's only a tease, the slightest hint of having him against her without actually being in her, and she gropes behind her blindly until she can dig her fingers into his hip, hauling him in, trying to angle them so that his cock slides between her thighs instead and she can grind herself on the shaft, seek the friction that benefits her too if he's not going to fuck her right away.
The teeth at her shoulder only spurs her on, and she shoves back against him, impatient, insistent in her rubbing, making an attempt to align their bodies; she ends up bent forward over the desk a bit more, lifting her hips so that the tip of his cock catches right at her entrance. All she needs is one good shove for him to be inside her already, no more of this incessant teasing. ]
( he could keep teasing her. he could see just how much restraint and resilience she has but he doesn't because he has jack shit of his own and he doesn't want to wait. he doesn't know if this will ever happen again and if this is the only time he gets to fuck her, he's going to make it good.
so, once he's lined up, once the heat of her cunt rubs against the head of his cock, he grabs at her hips and then slams himself forward, pushing her into the edge of the table. he buries himself as deeply as possible before he pulls out, leaving just the head of his cock inside of her before he fucks into her again, nearly taking his breath away. )
[ Truth be told, she isn't thinking beyond tonight — or whatever time it happens to be, she gave up trying to determine the hour on this station long ago. As far as she's concerned, she needs the release and he's in a position to give it to her without the risk of inconvenient feeling accompanying it. That's the last thing she needs, for him to think they're forming a more significant attachment here than they are.
Based on how he thrusts into her, though, only taking the time to line himself up before driving forward, it doesn't seem like sentimentality is any part of it; she bowls forward, only just managing to catch herself on her forearms as he bends her over the table. They're hard, almost punishing thrusts, ones he almost pulls out altogether from before slamming in again as if to prove how wet he's made her, and she hates him a little more for it but one of her hands strafes back toward his hip anyway, fingers digging in a firm clutch as the next slap of his body against hers earns him a low grunt from her throat. ]
( ain't neither of them in this for something soft and sweet and he knows that. they don't get along, they don't want to get along so the fact that they're doing this shit? well, it's a surprise but it's a good fuckin' surprise. who knows if it'll ever happen again but if it doesn't, he's gonna make this really fucking good. make it so she can't forget it.
she bends over and he puts a hand against her back, keeping her there to give himself the angle he wants fucking into her deeper and deeper, trying to make sure she'll feel this for at least a few hours afterward. he pants hard, doesn't say anything but a string of curse words as he keeps going, grabbing at her hips after a moment to tug her back onto his cock as he presses forward, trying to slam into her harder and sharper each time. )
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no subject
[ She's certain she's not misinterpreting the situation here; as much as he wants to protest verbally, his feet are still taking him across the brief distance from his designated side of the room to the one she's asserted for herself, and when he does that she slowly uncrosses her legs before rising to stand.
Even with his advantage over her in height, and the fact that she only has the bed behind her, the mattress bumping into her calves, she lifts her chin to meet him, establishing her own space in spite of it meaning that they're almost pressed flush against one another. ]
Could be we are a pair of unfeeling fucks. [ And without much preamble or warning at all, she slaps him across the face with her other, open palm; it's as much a spur to action as it is an attempt to see what he'll do once she strikes him. ] Feel that?
no subject
Barely.
( there's going to be a red mark on his cheek despite his bravado. he steps closer to her and shoves again. )
Come on, go again. You want to play rough, let's go.
no subject
She hadn't hit him with the tendency to really make it hurt; there's only a light sting on her palm, and the knowledge that if she'd wanted to leave a brighter mark beneath that thick beard of his, she could have.
She can't pretend there's no satisfaction for her in doing it, and this time, she uses the momentum of stumbling across the room to swing herself upright and backhand him across the face, striking across his mouth directly. The pain bursts across her knuckles and she knows she's made a bigger impact, but instead of saying anything at all, she watches him, the sleeve of her robe slipping down to expose one shoulder as she takes another swig directly from the bottle she's grasping onto with her other hand. ]
no subject
he doesn't. instead, he lunges forward and grabs her around the neck, shoving her backwards into the nearest wall. he pulls her off the wall with that grip on her neck and then slams her back again, leaning in close. )
Tell me, do you feel that?
no subject
And for some reason, even when he hauls her away from the wall and then shoves her back again, her face splits into a broad grin, the sudden show of force introducing adrenaline, which in turn prompts her to feel giddy. Or it could be the shitty alcohol going to her head.
Regardless, it means that as he leans in, she can surge forward just enough, fighting against the hold he has on her neck, and crush her mouth to his in a nipping, biting kiss, sucking on his lower lip with a deep moan in her throat. ]
no subject
she tastes like the shitty alcohol and there's something else underneath there, something he can't place but he doesn't think too long on. he surges forward, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her against him, biting at her lips when he kisses her, letting it sting and burn where they touch. )
no subject
Besides, she's more than prepared to break the kiss off suddenly before slapping him across the face again, though now it's not even in an effort to harm him or cause pain — not that it was even done with that intent before. She's just seeking sensation in the sting against her palm, trying to rouse him into meeting her with an equally clutching energy, wanting rough everywhere they make contact with one another.
Beneath the robe she's bare, still lightly smelling of the hot springs in the sim room, and the rasp of his clothing through that thin layer is another sensation to add right to the rest of it as he holds her right against him, as she pants lightly while her gaze searches his face, her own expression inscrutable. ]
no subject
his mouth is a hard line as she looks at him and then he reaches out and grabs her by the neck again, squeezes tightly and shoves her away from him. he takes the time that distance gives him to pull his shirt off and toss it away before he stalks forward again, grabbing her by that robe and yanking her back, uncaring if he rips it.
he curves a hand around her chin this time, forcing her face near his so he can kiss her roughly. )
no subject
The sound of tearing fabric definitely reaches her hearing, and after that the sleeve of her robe hangs loose down her arm, baring her shoulder and the top of her chest, but she’s hardly in the place of mind to care about it. ]
You’re such a brute — [ But when he grabs hold of her chin, steering her face up to his, she doesn’t need to be led the rest of the way, swerving up to kiss him in a clash of lips and teeth as she winds her arms around his body, raking fingers through his hair. She’ll count on him to bear both of their weights as she draws one leg up at the knee along his hip, which prompts the both of them to stagger as her body tilts into his, before they both collide with the desk in the room and knock several items onto the floor in the process. She turns them then so that she can seat herself on it, hauling him in between the open vee of her thighs, her hand cupping the back of his neck to yank him down to her mouth again. ]
no subject
( billy's definitely been called worse but he doesn't give a shit either. he holds onto her when she lifts her leg and staggers a bit, slamming into a desk and scattering items. he doesn't think anything's shattered but he doesn't give a shit either. whatever it is, it's replaceable.
when she hefts herself up onto the desk, he steps into the space between her legs automatically and reaches for the other sleeve of the robe, tearing it and then pulling it open at the front. )
Doesn't seem like it bothers you.
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It doesn't. [ If it bothered her enough, she wouldn't be seeking this from him — or even exchanging as many words before attempting sleep. ] Just worth noting.
[ When she wrenches her arms free of the ripped sleeves, letting the robe pool around her waist and hips, it gives her opportunity to bring her hands to his arms, palms running up his biceps before sliding across his chest so that she can rake her nails over his skin, down his stomach. It's not hard enough to draw blood, but more rough sensation to awaken the nerves on the descent down toward the waist of his trousers. ]
no subject
a moment later, he pulls back on it sharply, trying to catch her off guard. he doesn't wait for her to say anything before leaning forward and pressing his mouth to her neck, finding the spot where shoulder meets throat and biting down. if she's going to leave some marks on him, he's going to do the same to her. she can heal it with her magic if she gets all offended and shit later. )
no subject
It completely disrupts her intention of getting his pants unfastened, but she's content with being waylaid, drawing her hands around his body and hooking her fingers through his beltloops to bring him flush against her, her pants rough and punctuating in his ear as she rocks her hips, rubbing herself over a certain stiffening outline through the scratching material that's bound to leave marks on her inner thighs. ]
no subject
but he's confident in the fact that they'll get the pants off him soon enough if they both really want to. he slips in closer to her and licks a line up the side of her neck and then to her ear, sucking at the lobe before he grabs at her dress to try and start rucking it up. she doesn't need to take it off, they can just shove things aside and down and make it work.
he makes it hard on himself, the whole dress thing, by rocking into her, pressing his hips to hers and cursing low under his breath. )
no subject
It's too distracting, facing him like this; she shoves him back from her, several paces away, and then slides forward to the edge of the desk, but he's standing at enough of a distance now so that when she drops down to stand on her feet and slowly turns around, leaning forward over the flat surface with one hand braced in front of her and the other slowly dragging up her robe from the back, she won't be required to tell him exactly what she wants and how she wants it. ]
no subject
he swallows, shoving at his pants and shorts down just enough that he can get a hand around his dick and give it a few strokes and squeezes. he steps in closer to her, slapping a hand down on the desk besides her and pressing his cock the curve of her ass.
he rocks against her, hard and hot, biting at the curve of her shoulder because he can. )
probably time to mark this nsfw whoops;
It's only a tease, the slightest hint of having him against her without actually being in her, and she gropes behind her blindly until she can dig her fingers into his hip, hauling him in, trying to angle them so that his cock slides between her thighs instead and she can grind herself on the shaft, seek the friction that benefits her too if he's not going to fuck her right away.
The teeth at her shoulder only spurs her on, and she shoves back against him, impatient, insistent in her rubbing, making an attempt to align their bodies; she ends up bent forward over the desk a bit more, lifting her hips so that the tip of his cock catches right at her entrance. All she needs is one good shove for him to be inside her already, no more of this incessant teasing. ]
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so, once he's lined up, once the heat of her cunt rubs against the head of his cock, he grabs at her hips and then slams himself forward, pushing her into the edge of the table. he buries himself as deeply as possible before he pulls out, leaving just the head of his cock inside of her before he fucks into her again, nearly taking his breath away. )
no subject
Based on how he thrusts into her, though, only taking the time to line himself up before driving forward, it doesn't seem like sentimentality is any part of it; she bowls forward, only just managing to catch herself on her forearms as he bends her over the table. They're hard, almost punishing thrusts, ones he almost pulls out altogether from before slamming in again as if to prove how wet he's made her, and she hates him a little more for it but one of her hands strafes back toward his hip anyway, fingers digging in a firm clutch as the next slap of his body against hers earns him a low grunt from her throat. ]
no subject
she bends over and he puts a hand against her back, keeping her there to give himself the angle he wants fucking into her deeper and deeper, trying to make sure she'll feel this for at least a few hours afterward. he pants hard, doesn't say anything but a string of curse words as he keeps going, grabbing at her hips after a moment to tug her back onto his cock as he presses forward, trying to slam into her harder and sharper each time. )