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Hemlock pulled Emerie down till she was straddling him, his mouth soundly claiming hers. How she had fantasized about being intimate with him in his office, the dim lighting making it seem like they were the only two who existed in the whole galaxy, or like they were in their own little pocket universe, tucked away from prying eyes. Hemlock's hands were everywhere, caressing, gripping, till Emerie found herself rolling her hips down onto his growing erection.
Though, she had one reservation about this:
She was still sore from the night before, even resting herself on him flaring that ache.
Hemlock drew his mouth from hers, kissing her chin, across her jaw, and up till his tongue, and teeth were playing with her ear, his hot breaths sizzling through her. Did he have to do that? It had her moaning, running her hands along him, as their bodies already began to move together, despite how it hurt.
"Royce," Emerie gasped, gripping his soft hair, and trying to pull him back. "Royce, I don't know if I can do this."
"Of course you can," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
When Emerie didn't respond, he pulled back, though a hand stayed firmly on one of her breasts. He massaged, slowly, having her lean into him, mouth opening. A small, open-mouthed smile was on his face.
"Let me guess," he began, eyes meeting hers and making her gasp. "Still sore from when I kriffed you last night?"
For some reason, mention of it had her legs clenching his hips. Perhaps it was the way he said the word kriffed, all breathy and delighted.
"Yes."
He ran a hand down her body, and grabbed her thighs, like he could pull her closer.
"What if I promise to be gentle?"
A small smile lit her face.
"And you know how to do that—be gentle?"
His mouth closed, frowning a bit, brows furrowing, expression so adorable she wanted to kiss him till he couldn't breathe.
"No, I suppose I don't. What if you promise to be brave?"
"I—"
He gripped her ass, squeezing, her hips tilting into him more, a small sound leaving her at the fact that he was fully erect now. His lips hovered by hers.
"Oh, come on," he whispered. "I know you like it when it hurts."
Sometimes she wasn't sure she did, but she did always reach her end, sometimes again and again.
His right hand ran up her back, up, up, till he cradled the back of her head. His touch sent trails of pleasure through her, reminding her of just how much pleasure he could make her feel. She throbbed in between her legs, heat building and building. She whimpered—just a small sound, but enough for him to hear. Hemlock hummed against her mouth as he kissed her.
All of her was too hot, needing her clothes to come off. Memories of Hemlock's skin against hers had her hands unclasping his belt. A triumphant sound that was nearly a purr left him, and his hands became desperate on her. It seemed like it only took seconds for the both of them to be undressed from the waist up, their lips only parting to discard one item of clothing or another.
Hemlock suddenly licked at her right nipple, pulling it into his mouth, eliciting a cry from her. The heat of his touch trailed through her, making her rub against him harder, digging her nails into his muscled upper back.
An mmph left him, and he began to remind her just what he could do with his tongue, memories of his head buried between her thighs, the want for him to do so again, flashing hot through her.
At this point, not having him touching her between her legs, nothing but skin on skin, was incredibly frustrating.
"Oh, Royce, I need you."
A deep laugh came from him, vibrating against her. Sometimes she swore his voice would be enough to get her off.
"Told you," he murmured.
"Now," she urged.
He groaned, squeezing her ass.
"Well, forgive me for trying to make sure you're ready. After all, I'm hard to handle."
Emerie frowned, stilling on him. Had he just… made a joke?
When he lifted up his head, laughing, it eased the uncertainty in her chest over how to react, and she laughed with him. He brushed a thumb over her cheek.
"I suppose you are," she admitted.
"Then I'm sure you'll have no qualms about me getting you off with my mouth."
Unintentionally, she hummed at that, rubbing herself against him again.
"I want you bent over my desk," he breathed, voice heavy and trembling with need.
Emerie pictured it, Hemlock taking charge of her at his desk, being rough like the position seemed to call for. A shiver ran through her, and she found herself nodding. Hot tingles burst through her, racing down her spine. Words failed her, her mouth going dry.
Hemlock pulled her into another kiss, though he kept it brief. After they separated he patted her ass, a clear sign to do as he said.
She did so without hesitation, usually eager to follow any instruction from him, whether in the bedroom or outside it.
A pleased sound came from him as she did so, slowly laying herself out on an empty spot on his desk for him. She gasped as he stood, and she sensed him over her. After tugging at her ponytail, he ran both hands down her back, somehow making her feel so small despite their similar heights. She shifted into his touch, as he grabbed the hem of her trousers, pulling them down, touching her as much as possible. She let out a soft moan as his hands ran up to knead her ass, though she couldn't help jumping as he knelt, and his breath ghosted over her.
"Arch out for me," he murmured. "Spread your legs."
Emerie did so, nearly throbbing at the sudden, intense vulnerability. She squeezed her eyes shut from it.
Her reward for such vulnerability was Hemlock caressing the inside of her thighs, lips ghosting over her. So used to this kind of touch from him, her body reacted, shivering, throbbing. Despite the burning need laced in every touch from him he started slow, pressing feather-light kisses on her, and frustrating her to no end. Hemlock, always so vocal, was letting out heavy exhales shuddering with his voice. When he finally sucked, tongue coming out to play, he groaned so deep she almost came. His hands weren't gentle now, but insistent. Once he'd claimed that she was delicious, and his actions certainly didn't contradict that.
Emerie reached back, a muffled grunt leaving Hemlock as she put a hand in his hair, nails scraping his scalp. Her other hand was curled into claws, pressed hard against the desk.
In this position, when Hemlock sucked and licked toward her clit, his nose pressed against her entrance, which had her burn even more. She lost herself to his mouth, his voice, his breaths, the way he held her thighs apart, the nearly-agonizingly bright pleasure he brought to life in her.
She started whimpering, wishing she could writhe, hardly able to take it. Pleasure rushed hot down her legs, tightening her muscles, her hips attempting to buck against him. Emerie tugged on his hair, so alight with pleasure she wanted to ask him to stop, wanted to cry for him to never stop. Her clit nearly ached with the merciless insistence of his licks and the sucking pressure.
Hemlock held her steady, not letting her go, giving her no choice but to come. A hitched cry left her as pleasure burst through her, her clenching walls aching. Hemlock squeezed her ass, growling. She moaned long and low, back arching, legs attempting to bend, body left with nothing to do but ride his mouth.
When Hemlock finally pulled away, a long, trembling moan left him, and he kissed and licked at her ass, even biting, making her squeal, walls contracting one final time.
Her breaths quickened in anticipation, and maybe a bit of fear, as he stood. She moaned as he pressed his hips against her, letting her feel his erection. He put a hand in her hair, keeping her pressed down on his desk, his hips rolling. After her orgasm, he seemed even harder. Small shivers ran through her at the realization that he really did love tasting her between her legs.
Hemlock pulled back enough to tug his trousers down. In moments, the lovely head of his cock was stretching her open. His hand was in her hair again, holding her down, the other gripping her hip hard.
Emerie gasped and cried out as he pushed in, in. He brushed a particularly sore spot in her, and she reached back for his hip, the other hand uselessly scrabbling on his desk. Another squeal left her as he thrusted in till their bodies were flush against each other. He was a heavy ache in her pelvis, stretching and forcing himself against every tender spot in her from the night before.
"Relax," he breathed, the rumbling note to his voice like a caress down her spine.
She squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering, but tried to do as he said.
Hemlock started out slow—slow for him—murmuring how good she felt around him.
Blast, she couldn't handle it.
"Royce—Royce, I can't. I can't," she cried, trying to reach out to push him away.
He shoved himself in, their skin slapping together.
"Yes, you can," he growled. "You can."
In moments, his thrusts had her gasping, pleasure twining through her. Her body relaxed into the pleasure, even into the pain. Her hips arched down into his as he picked up speed.
She found herself murmuring how she wanted him, wanted more.
"You like being sore from me?" he asked her.
Overloaded by pleasure, his body driving against hers again and again, her whole pelvis alight from him, she whimpered, "Yes, yes."
After a deep groan, he kriffed her so hard and fast she screamed. Hemlock let her ride it out, rolling his hips slow, but the promise of how hard he could kriff remained, having her moan. His hand tightened in her hair, scalp stinging, fire coursing down into her neck, burning throughout her whole body.
Hemlock leaned over her, hot skin against her back, breaths in her. His arms wrapped around her collarbone, trapping her as he pounded into her. His pleasure seemed so intense and wild that she felt high, her arms wrapping around his own. Emerie tilted her head till their mouths met, screaming into him from how hard and fast he took her, tasting herself on his lips. He couldn't keep up the relentless pace, which offered her reprieves of getting to really feel how much she ached, and burned, the sensations leaving her nearly fighting against him.
"How do you feel about this now?" he asked, a smile in his words.
"Oh, it feels so good."
In seconds he had her screaming into his hot mouth again, Emerie not knowing anything but him from how tightly their bodies pressed together, his arms around her.
After one breath-stealing kiss, he let her go, but stayed close, holding himself up with his hands against the desk.
His hips moved faster than Emerie could comprehend, his left hand, covering her mouth as she screamed. Oh, she liked that, throbbing around him, her walls eventually deciding they wanted to hold him tight. A fierce grunt left him as he thrusted in with her walls like that.
"That feels so good," he panted.
Knowing he was enjoying himself left her feeling pleasure everywhere, till she was reaching her end, voice muffled as she cried out against his hand. Hemlock didn't pause, just kept taking her, also quite loud from her body contracting around him.
Emerie gasped when he pulled out, whimpering, hips rolling, throbbing, throbbing...
His hand fell from her mouth, though she grabbed his wrist, suddenly wanting to lick and bite.
"Kriff, you really do love it when I'm rough with you," he panted.
In moments, Hemlock was picking her up, sitting her down on him. Emerie's legs widened for him with hardly a thought. He pressed in again, the way gravity pulled her down, making her throbbing ache inside even more painful. For a moment she couldn't handle it, hips wiggling. Though he seemed to enjoy it, kissing her neck as he moaned.
"Ride me," he ordered. "Ride me hard."
With one hand on her hip, he helped her balance. His left hand ran over her body, Emerie enjoying the touch of leather against her. She whimpered, rolling her hips in quick motions when his right hand ran up before covering her mouth again. His left hand reached between her legs, leather brushing her clit nearly making her come in an instant, all of her throbbing insistently.
She couldn't remember ever moving her hips so fast, but the way he reached deep and stretched her was so delicious that she couldn't get enough. Not only was the ache something she could ignore with the light flaring and pulsing through her, but it was something she enjoyed, wanting more, wanting him to be rough.
"Oh yeah, that's nice," he let her know, breath hot on her neck. "Yes, like that, Emerie. Good girl."
He worked her clit fast, making her kriff herself on him with more desperation, faster, faster, faster!
Emerie held his wrists tightly as she screamed into his hand, coming on him again. His own body worked against her now, cock pounding into her through her orgasm, fingers still working her clit till she swore she was overflowing with pleasure that would burst out of her. This orgasm did make her extremely wet.
Hemlock bit her shoulder, screaming and groaning as she, too, screamed. The bruising pain of his bite left her so hot, she couldn't take it, she couldn't handle him, but she needed more, and more.
He throbbed in her, kriffing her so fast she wondered if he had somehow found a way to enhance his natural agility. And then there was burning wetness spurting in her, all along her walls.
Hemlock moved his hands, gripping whatever part of her body he could, holding her so tight she knew she'd have bruises for days and days.
Emerie growled, trying to ride it out.
A small part of her was relieved he was finished, not sure she could take much more, even as the sensation of his cum burning in her left her a shuddering mess atop him.
Hemlock released her shoulder, and pulled her into a searing kiss, licking into her mouth, his whole voice vibrating through her. Emerie might have reached her end once more from that, so lost in pleasure it was difficult to tell for sure.
He was slow now, panting into her mouth. Emerie kept him to her with a hand on the back of his head, the other running along one of his arms.
Usually at this point he pulled out of her, but kept kissing and kissing.
He didn't pull out, her waning relief turning into an unknown emotion that sparked hard through her. Oh, how she throbbed from the pounding he'd given her, joining the soreness from the previous night.
He picked up the pace, Emerie pulling back in surprise.
Hemlock laughed. "You expected me to be finished?" he asked.
"Y-yes."
"Oh, Emerie, I've barely gotten started," he growled, voice so low it seemed to penetrate down to her bones.
"I don't know if—"
"You can, and you will."
Hemlock pulled her into a kiss, having her cry out into his mouth, as he went at her throbbing body hard. He pounded pleasure into her once more, one arm tight around her. He ended up getting her on her knees to cum in her mouth, leaving her choking on him, yet she burned, somehow loving it, knowing she could never get enough of him.
How Emerie walked or sat the rest of the day was beyond her, and all she could think was if he would want the same from her that night.
For some reason that bit of dread low in her abdomen had her bursting with sharp anticipation, bleeding with excitement.
And that night she submitted to him again, and again. At least for some of it he was gentle, though he used that as a sweet, delectable torture of its own.