bloodyrockgod | (no subject)

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The suite is still a suite, though Charlie's been thinking about converting it back to a single room. But maybe he'll want a roommate . . .

Or have a room available for Seth while Charlie entertains elsewhere.

He hsuts the door behind Claire and smiles at her as he puts his guitar away. "Is he sleepy?"

[ooc: canon happens. adult content.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mm, she likes kissing. And she likes kissing him, especially.

"Careful," she warns eventually. "Or we might not be getting so much rest after all."

"Sleep is for the weak," he murmurs, kissing her neck.

She tilts her head to give him better access and her hand creeps down to his hip, and then lower, her touch gentler than it was earlier.

"Well, that's probably true," she murmurs.

His hips shift and he smiles, chuckling deeply. His mouth moves lower, soft kisses along her collar bones.

Sighing. Humming. Moaning. She makes a whole song out of soft, mewling noises as she turns them so she's on her back and he's on top of her.

"Like this, this time," she says quietly, helping him settle between her legs.

He nods, eyes dark, and enters her gently. He watches her, running fingertips over her heart-shaped face.

She smiles up at him, letting him set the tempo this time, and she doesn't take her eyes off him, either.

Charlie.

Charlie is slow, careful, as if lost in wonder. He is not smiling but his face has never looked so open and soft.

You'll always be a part of me, she thinks, but does not say, because now is not the time for words.

Instead, she shows him with her body, moving with him, against him, for him, really. Her fingers find the small of his back and dig in, carefully.

He shivers, a smile ghosting over his lips, and in retaliation raises her legs to tilt her body up. His thought is just Deeper. Deeper.

Yessss, she thinks or sighs or something, if she could be bothered to care, but she cannot because her eyes have fluttered closed and she's biting her lip, and just. . .

Yesss. Deeper is very good.

"Oh, yes, a stóirín, that's good, let me hear you. Tell me it feels good. Tell me how it feels."

"It feels. . .God, Charlie, it feels like. . ." she arches her back, pressing her skin to his, needing to feel every inch of him she can reach.

"Beautiful," he whispers to her, kissing her, hands stroking her. "Beautiful girl. I love the way you feel."

"Yes," she says, outloud, and she knows because she hears it, feels it.

"God, Charlie," and she turns her head so he won't he see the tears, because maybe he wouldn't understand. Or maybe he would.

She isn't sure, really, which she'd rather be the case.

He turns her head back and kisses her eyelids and cheeks. "Sh, sh, love, does it hurt? Do I need to stop?"

"No," she says softly, and smiles. "Don't stop."

She clenches around him to distract him.

"Don't you dare stop."

He gasps and shakes his head, teeth sinking into his lip.

Another smile and she does it again. And then again, pulling his head to her so she can kiss him, sliding her tongue along his in the same maddening rhythm of their bodies.

He groans into her mouth, planting his hands on either side of her head and snapping his hips against her.

The sound she makes is desperate and if she were willing to pull her mouth from his, she'd tell him not to stop, again. Beg him not to stop, because what he's doing right now is causing something different to build inside her, blooming in the very core of her.

Oh, he's not stopping, not stopping yet, willing himself not to stop ever if he can help it because god damn it's just so good to be someplace so hot and tight and wet and welcoming.

She kisses him, whimpering into his mouth, louder and louder, but she doesn't even notice because bloody hell this one's going to kill her, and she's going to let it, and if he stopped she'd probably cry, and she might cry again anyways, because he doesn't stop and it just keeps building and building and building and then she has to pull her mouth away and

scream

because it suddenly explodes inside her.

He's overwhelmed, swept away, caught up in her power and sent tumbling after her.

The silence is sudden and full.

He killed her.

Except he didn't, and after a moment, when she finds herself again, she lays there underneath him, trembling and gasping and never more vulnerable than right there in that moment.