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"Oh, I'm just thinking about the ways i can make you come," Emily mumbled distractedly. Her thighs hit the desk as she took a hesitant step back under Elliott's scorching gaze.
Elliott wasted no time in cupping her cheek and kissing her greedily, his soft lips pressed hers. He groaned like a man starved, his other hand pressing her flush against his chest. His fingers dug into the small of her back as he devoured her devoid of any shame.
Emily whimpered into his mouth, her heart beating impossibly fast in her chest. Her mind was flooded with want, with the crystal clear understanding that if she didn't get him naked right this very second there would be casualties.
"Elli," she gasped out when they broke apart.
Elliott didn't spare her a single glance; with reckless abandon he moved to sucking and biting along the sweet curve of her neck and shoulder.
"Elli—" she managed to say again before he cut her off with a particularly intense nibble to her skin.
"You can't just say things like that and expect me to stay sane," Elliott mumbled under his breath. "Look at you, how can I control myself when you're so—"
Emily smiled lazily despite heat pooling low in her stomach. Oh, she liked that.
With a tug at his hair that was less gentle than it could be she made Elliott look her in the eyes. He looked gorgeous; red splotches along his cheekbones, plush trembling lips that she longed to bite, pupils so wide they almost overshadowed his green irises. His gaze was searching, for any objections perhaps, or displeasure.
Well, he wouldn't find that in her tonight.
"Since you're so eager," Emily caressed his cheek, slow and tender, and watched his gaze cloud with barely controlled desire. "I suggest you flip me around and get some. Before I change my mind, that is."
The sound that escaped Elliott's parted lips was nothing short of the purest form of desperation.
"Emmie, Emmie, fuck—"
And he was already turning her around and pushing her against the desk. Emily felt her breasts flatten against the wood and gasped when a warm hand hitched her long skirt up so it pooled over the small of her back.
She could tell she was dripping already, the sound of an unbuckling belt almost driving her crazy. There was an impatient crinkle of a wrapper, then a mumbled curse.
"Are you sure," Elliott asked hurriedly, the words stilted and heated. "I wouldn't want to—"
"Lose the condom," Emily commanded, her mind swimming. "I have to feel you."
A curse again, then finally a touch between her legs. Elliott swiped along her entrance and rubbed her clit teasingly. Emily liked the desperation more, she decided, even though he was always amazing when it came to foreplay.
"Elli, Yoba, if you don't stop fucking playing with me right this very second—Inside, now."
Obedience was never Elliott's strong side; his fingers stayed on her for a bit longer, just touching, enough to frustrate her and make her kick him in the shin.
"I just can't stop myself," he breathed, but moved his hand to fondle her ass, her underwear sliding down to the floor. "You're perfect, Emmie."
She preened under the praise. "Show me…"
There was a sound of trousers hitting the floor, than a soft thump of underwear following suit. Emily felt with the keenest sense of pleasure as Elliott slid his cock along her folds, covering himself in her arousal.
"Mmm…" she let out and fully relaxed on the desk. The wood was slightly cold against her flushed cheek; on the other side she felt feverishly hot. "I'm so ready for you…"
"I can feel that," Elliott choked out. His dick caught on Emily's entrance and his fingers twitched against her ass. "You're drenched, baby."
She positively purred when he slowly, oh so deliciously slowly, pushed inside. The stretch made her part her lips in an effort to catch her breath; heavens, this was all she wanted. Her hand grabbed blindly at Elliott's and squeezed.
He seemed to still be holding onto some semblance of control. He continued small, careful thrusts, every single one shallow, the head diving in and out of her like a delicious punishment, until she was aching for so much more, the words spilling themselves out of her lips.
"Elli, make it hard for me to resist, please…"
Wordlessly he grabbed her wrist and pinned it high on her back, high enough that she felt it impossible to lift her body off the desk. His grip was strong, but the touch velvety smooth. She couldn't—
When Elliott finally filled her up completely, Emily had arousal dripping down her legs from the teasing. She wanted nothing more but to snap at him to go faster, but he was stubborn. Also stupidly determined to not let himself get carried away.
She really needed to change that.
"Elli," she cleared her throat, but her voice still came out raspy. "I like it faster. Just— Fuck, really, just fuck me please."
"I— we should make love," Elliott answered under his breath. She could hear his voice, how strained it was. "I shouldn't let… let my lust cloud my judgment."
Yoba, he was impossible.
Emily groaned and let her head fall back against the desk. This was supposed to be quick and hot. And now it seemed like it would be hot and drawn out.
Elliott bent over her until his hair brushed against her cheek. "Forgive me, my love. I do not know— I cannot do this without worshipping every single part of you."
He kissed her neck once again.
"Let me show you."
Emily's answer drowned in a long shuddering exhale when he let his fingers wander down between them, back to her clit.
The double stimulation made her squirm, delicious heat gathering in her stomach. Elliott remained steadily inside, not moving an inch despite the way she clenched at him in an attempt to provoke him.
"Emmie, you're so rude—" Elliott mumbled into her ear. "I'm trying to do good by you, and that's how you repay me?"
"If you just did what I said," Emily bit down another whimper, "I wouldn't have to."
"Be a good girl, hmm?"
His fingers circled her clit and Yoba, he was such a tease. Emily could imagine with perfect clarity the small smile dancing on his lips; the spark of amusement in his eyes as he pushed her right up to the edge.
Finally he started moving inside her; with long, slow thrusts he filled her up to the brim only to leave her before she could relish in the feeling. This felt like torture, pure and simple, and her legs twitched from the amount of stimulation and desire swirling in her.
"Elli, please, please, I—"
She didn't think she could be reduced to begging so quickly yet here she was. She was so hot; Elliott's weight against her back and her long sleeved shirt not helping to alleviate it in the slightest. Her breasts were swollen and tender and she desperately bucked against the desk to feel some friction. Oh, but with Elliott pinning her like that she couldn't move an inch. A feeling of being left absolutely helpless spread through her veins.
Elliott nipped at her ear. His breath came in shudders, but he kept to his word, making her fall apart with the unhurried tempo of a man who had all the time in the world. He let her hand go, only to lift her up slightly and sneak his hand down under her breasts.
The first graze of his finger against her nipples, even though it was only through the fabric, was positively electric. Emily arched her back, and Elliott chose exactly that moment to bury himself inside her to the hilt with a groan.
"Emmie, you're so perfect—"
She didn't have the strength to answer. Tears of overstimulation prickled her eyes; she couldn't take it anymore. Her whole body was hot and cold, muscles tensed so much she felt like she was made of stone. Her legs trembled so badly she didn't think she could stand on them at all, and her folds had swollen so much each time Elliott moved past them Emily could feel every single part of his cock.
A quiet sob ripped itself out of her mouth. "I can't— Elliott, I can't, it's too much—"
"Love, I know you can," he answered softly and rolled her nipple between his fingers. "See, I can feel how much you're enjoying this."
He left her clit alone for now which she greeted with a sigh of relief. His hand moved across her ass, up to where her skirt laid bundled up against the small of her back.
"Always wanted to have you like this," he whispered against her neck and straightened out, his hand leaving her breasts to lay against the desk warmed by her body. "My beautiful muse, right where I create my work. I wish I could preserve your warmth so that I could feel it each time i put my pen to the page…"
Emily let a couple tears slip down her cheek and splash against the wood. She didn't feel much like a muse right now.
He grabbed her hips, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers. Somehow he grew larger, harder inside her, and Emily bucked again, the desperate need to rip out her orgasm from him making her lose her mind.
"Look at you… I wish I could paint this. Your skin, your sweet lips, the way you hold onto my cock with all your might— Love, you're everything to me."
With that he picked up the pace, finally. Emily held onto the desk with a limp grip as it squeaked under their weight, the way he hit the right spot inside each time so perfectly she couldn't control her voice anymore.
"El, Elli, fuck, please, I need, fuck—"
"I got you, baby," he managed and she shuddered around him in response. "Just let go."
Oh, that was the right thing to say. Emily felt her whole body tense up and then tremble in the sweetest release as her orgasm swept through her, the agonising wait finally over.
"Oh—" she let out as her walls held onto him through it all. Elliott moaned softly and picked up the pace, now slamming into her with abandon.
"Emmie, I'm— Yoba, I love you—"
He came with a strangled cry, painting her insides with his come. Emily shuddered once again at the warmth spilling inside her. This was…
Waves of pleasure lapped lazily against the shore of her mind, her body finally allowed to relax. She purred under her breath with satisfaction.
Elliott bent down and kissed her neck, her shoulder, her cheek, anywhere he could reach. It felt desperate, apologetic in a way she didn't understand until she felt his hot tears splash against her skin.
"I got too carried away, I'm so sorry," Elliott whispered, his hands now holding onto her gently. "Forgive me, love, you bewitched me today—"
Emily sniffled. "Can you help me up?"
He did, his movements gentle and almost afraid. Once she was sitting on the edge of the desk with her skirt kicked off to the side (cause she didn't need all that getting on it) she took both his hands into hers.
"Elli, I love you. And I loved this. So stop your crying, hmm?" she cupped his face with her hand and tenderly wiped off a tear. "I know that I'm hard to resist. It's alright."
Elliott embraced her, his head hiding in the crook of her shoulder. Emily let him with a loving sigh and her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Love, if you do this every time we try something new how will we ever get to try shibari…?
Elliott cry-laughed into her shoulder. "I hope you do enjoy my crying. Some people have a kink of crying during sex, you know?"
Emily snorted and pulled him closer. "I suppose I am developing it, you dork. Come on, let's go wash up."
"A second longer," he mumbled. "I don't want to let you go yet."
Warmth, so different to the overwhelming heat from moments ago, bloomed in her chest like a most beautiful Summer Spangle.
"So don't," she answered softly and kissed the top of his head. "My love, I am yours."
"And I yours. Always."
Perhaps it was alright that this didn't exactly go to plan, she thought with the man of her dreams in her arms.
Perhaps it was perfect just the way it was.