"Not me," she breathes, the word ending on a low groan as she bites down on her lower lip, arching back, raising herself to press against the lips on her breast. She can't remember the last time— can't remember it ever being like this at all. She can feel his anger wrapped around her neck like a threat, yet the shirt holding her flush against him is secure, doesn't let up for even an instant. Refuses to let go. That's probably the point, with him. A boy grown up too soon. "Won't promise to stay, won't promise to go. Isn't that perfect? You don't have to care, Dean."
But the words, her own, cut suddenly, and she blinks back the emotion in spite of herself, before ducking down to find his lips again. Breathes harshly again, a sharp rush of air as their lips part, another roll of her hips until they grind against his own, the pain nothing but a thrill. "Dean," she repeats, but the second time, it's his name alone as she cranes her neck, pressing further, tasting herself on his lips. Her thighs press against either side of him with each thrust, like she might keep him there a bit longer, under her terms, and hers alone.
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Date: 2011-10-14 05:27 am (UTC)But the words, her own, cut suddenly, and she blinks back the emotion in spite of herself, before ducking down to find his lips again. Breathes harshly again, a sharp rush of air as their lips part, another roll of her hips until they grind against his own, the pain nothing but a thrill. "Dean," she repeats, but the second time, it's his name alone as she cranes her neck, pressing further, tasting herself on his lips. Her thighs press against either side of him with each thrust, like she might keep him there a bit longer, under her terms, and hers alone.