[She matches him step for step, her eyes locked on him, trusting him to guide her as they slowly walk towards the door. His fingers are slow and subtle, creeping around her hips, and Rosalind takes a moment to appreciate them. Large fingers, rough from years of doing god only knows what, and she can feel the heat of them through the thin material of her skirt.
She imagines what it will be like to have those fingers digging into her, gripping her wrists and pinning her down or plunging deep into her-- and oh, but there's a thought to keep her warm. How it would feel (will feel, and what a delicious inevitability it is) to have him deep in her, fingering her until she's squirming and whining and begging him to fuck her properly.
If she was any kind of respectable woman, she'd have wrenched his hands off by now. But Rosalind waits until they've slid back entirely, palms flat over the curve of her ass, ignoring her body's urging to push eagerly back into them.
That's for later.
It's a good slap she gives him. Not her hardest, but sharp and stinging, a punishment and a goading come-hither all at once. The resulting noise is loud enough to draw attention, and there's ringing silence within the bar. But that only lasts a moment; soon there's laughter, drunken and not entirely mean-spirited, as people settle in to watch the show they might or might not provide.
Rosalind rises to her toes, her hand dropping to grip the front of his shirt and tug him in close.]
Now . . . come along.
[She'll wrench away from out and walk out the door if he lets her. She's an apartment not too far from here, a modest place that she rents for times like these.]
[ It's not the first or the last time that Jamie Fraser will be slapped. But when her hand connects with his face he hisses. There's a sting against his skin and he sucks in a breath. He's not made of stone. He gives her a look. Wild eyes, but he doesn't hold any actual truth behind them. There's no ill intent in his actions or movements. He just stares at her hard. Ignoring the patrons is easy. She's captured his attention from the very beginning.
Jamie's grip loosens when she pulls away because she's driving them out of the tavern and that's what really matters. But once they hit the night air he doesn't stay gone for long. He doesn't remain passive. They make it a total of nine steps before Jamie loops an arm around her from behind. Roughly pulling her back against him and side stepping into the alley that runs along the tavern. Caught between the tavern and a little shop that's been closed for hours.
He presses her forward against the outer wall of the tavern and takes hold of her hips. ] What did I say about telling me what t' do? [ Jamie slides his hands up her sides and around to cup her chest. They're alone for now. No one here to get a free show. Which he appreciates. ] Though I see ye've decided to be my bad lassie now have huvnae ye?
[This, now, she can melt into. There's no one here to see them, and so Rosalind braces one arm against the wall and arches her back, pushing her breasts into his waiting hands, grinding her hips back at the same time. She won't let him fuck her out here, but there's no harm in a bit of touching.
Besides: they're still close enough to the tavern she can hear voices. Snatches of conversation, individual words and barks of laughter . . . and though she'd hate the reality, oh, god, but the thought of someone walking out here and catching them makes her melt. Him with his hands all over her, under her shirt or shoving up her skirt, claiming her no matter who was there to see . . . god, and she pants as she grinds her hips back again, rocking against him.]
I hardly-- ah-- I hardly see how my obeying you renders me into something bad. You told me to slap you, Jamie. I was only being good. Isn't that what you want?
[It's a drawling voice, baiting and teasing, as she glances back to try and catch his eye.]
Tell me-- [she says, and it's most definitely deliberately framed as an order] -- why is it you think you're allowed to order me around and not vice-versa? Bossy thing, didn't anyone ever tell you that's not how you get a woman to like you?
[She says, squirming eagerly against him, but at least she's aware of it.]
[ This makes his blood boil in the best possible way. His heart hammers in his chest and he wants more. He wants her. Sometimes he's a bit reckless when he wants something, but he tries to at least stay on course here. She is right though. She did obey him. Did exactly as he told her to. That hardly makes her bad. But that brings up another thought. One that takes him a moment to compose as he tries to think with her hips grinding back like that. ]
Thought ye dinnae want to be my good lass?
[ She did give him the decision to decide on what she'd be. At this point he's certain she's straddling the line of both. Something that only makes her more appealing right now. The way her voice sounds and the way her breath catches. When she catches his eye it takes every ounce of self control now to kiss her. Pushing the moment back as far as he can just to see how it'll feel when he does get to.
The corner of his mouth raises in a smile. He gives her breasts a firm squeeze in both hands before the one without the stiff fingers lowers down the front of her body. Creeping down the front of her skirt as he thinks. ] I ken plenty of how to get a woman t' like me. I think ye like me just fine. [ He doesn't seem to wait or hesitate when he grabs the bottom hem of her skirt. He pulls it upward so his arm can disappear under the fabric. Fingers slowly teasing up her thighs. ]
And I get t' boss ye about cause the other way is how ye live. Always giving the orders. Now I'll be givin' them. Ye understand?
[Oh, she hadn't expected him to do that, and for just a moment she balks. Groping and touching is one thing, but she'd best make a decision quick on whether she truly wants him to lift her skirt while they're in public.
The sensible, logical side of her says no, and there's a hundred different reasons why. No, it's too dangerous; no, what if you're caught; no, there are people nearby and if you moan they'll hear you, no, tell him no, he'll stop, tell him to wait until you get home, make it a bait, he's eager to catch you, make him hungrier--
But his fingers are warm and rough against her thigh, and it's all she can do not to beg him to slide them against her. Her panties are soaked through already, wet and sticking to her cunt, and she can't stand the thought of walking all the way home without at least a taste of what's to come.
White teeth flash against red lip as she bites her bottom lip. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving him more than enough room to touch where he likes, and rolls her hips back once more.]
. . . yes.
[She breathes it out, her head ducking forward. The movement bares her neck to him, and she thinks suddenly of how an animal signifies submission, by going pliant and baring their most vulnerable parts. She thinks of how she must look right now, no better than some common slut, slumped over in an alley while a man touches and takes as he likes. And she thinks, with dazed amusement, how her mother would shriek to see her like this: not just in public, not just letting a man take her, but a Scot, and oh, what a shame that is.
She won't be this pliant all night. That's hardly fun. But for right this second, Rosalind submits, shivering beneath his hand.]
[ Christ. The moment is dripping with possibilities. As is she, but right now this has him going. He knows that just about anyone could locate them. They could stumble down here for a piss or to vomit. They could get a similar idea with their significant other and wander down here. There's a hundred different things that could make this completely embarrassing, but Jamie doesn't seem to care about a single one of them. It offers enough cover that common sense doesn't seem to win out.
Her reactions only seem to add fuel to the fire. They make him want to do more. Press whatever boundaries she might have initially had. He disregards her comment of sir for the moment. His hand drags around under her skirt to cup her ass. His hand on her breast lifts to cover her mouth and he gives her panty clad ass a little smack. Not too hard, but enough. His lips brush her neck as he smiles gently. ] Sir would help.
[ Jamie grabs the top of her underwear and gives them a pull downward. Not completely. Just down to her thighs which gives him what he wants. Hand coming back around to her cunt as his fingers glide down against her lips. ] Yer soaked, lass, ye've been thinking about me? [ He nibbles at her neck with another throaty chuckle. His middle finger dips between her lips and presses downward to tease at her opening. The tip gliding against the slick. ]
[Thank god he covers her mouth, because the second his hand connects with her ass she squeaks, a ridiculous little noise that's more surprised than pained. It's muffled, and she shudders the moment it leaves her, in no small part because she can hear a shout of laughter from inside the bar. They're so close, and she whines softly, her eyes closing tightly as he yanks her underwear down.
And oh, fuck, but that's hideously good. He's barely even doing anything, but it doesn't matter; she jerks and squirms, throbbing around nothing, eager to feel those heated fingers push up and into her.
She doesn't answer his question. Of course she's been thinking of him; she's been thinking of him the moment she pressed up against him (was it really only half an hour ago?). She's thinking of how he's hard behind her; of how it would feel for him to bend her over and take her right now, in the alley, and damned anyone who might see them. And she's thinking of how her ass stings, but not enough; how he'd threatened to put her over his knee and how wet that had made her.
His fingers drag over her shamelessly, but not far enough, and she growls softly in irritation. Rosalind squirms pointedly, her hips rocking backwards. More, that isn't enough, and he's not stupid, he's not refusing her because he's shy or clumsy, but still she acts as though he needs instruction. More, and she drops her mouth open, wet lips against his palm, tipping her head to try and catch his fingers in her mouth.]
[ He's no fool. She was bound to make some noise. Moving his hand away any time soon would only get them noticed. Perhaps. There's no telling. But he doesn't intend to move from here yet. She was leading them somewhere, but he wants to take this moment instead. He wants to appreciate it. Appreciate her. Because he's damn certain that not many men get to give Rosalind any sort of orders that she doesn't agree with. Hell, even the ones that she does agree with. She's a headstrong lass.
Jamie's teasing. That much is certain. She gets what she wants when she wants it. Denying her is half the fun. It's half the dance. He does wonder how she'd react if he lifted his kilt up to slide into her from behind her. It wouldn't take much effort. He wouldn't even need to spit into his palm. He's certain she'd wet enough to handle him just as she is right now. But he holds off just for the moment. Just to see what else he can drive her to. ]
There's a good lass. [ He whispers. He gives her a hand with her endevours. He moves hand just enough to press two fingers between those beautiful lips. If she wants something to suck then he's happy to oblige. Finally his finger presses down further and slowly presses into her. It's an agonizing pace most likely, but he doesn't shy away. He curls it and presses it up and forward. ]
Should I have done this for ye in there? Dinnae think ye could've handled it.
[She wraps her lips tight around his fingers, tongue flitting up to tease over the pads. He's been staring at her mouth all night; why not tease him with it more? Let him imagine just how good this will feel when her tongue is sliding over something else of his. She slips between his fingers, spreading them and wetting them thoroughly before her lips tighten once more.
She does so love to tease. But oh, the instant his finger slips into her she moans, and that's entirely for her own benefit, not his. She rocks her hips back, fucking herself shallowly against him, throbbing eagerly around him. It's not big enough, not at all, and she's aching for him to push a second finger into her, but she'll take what she can get.
Her head jerks in a nod, though in truth she never would have allowed such a thing. But who cares? It's a fantasy, and already her mind is flitting along those lines. Being fingered under the table by him, her face red and her body shaking with the effort of not giving them away . . .
She moans again, then turns with a gasp, glancing back at him. Her lipstick is a little smeared, her mouth wet, but it's worth it to catch his eye again.]
O-of course I could have handled it . . . you know me well enough by now to know there's little I can't do if I put my mind to it.
Is that what you wanted? To fuck me in f-front of all of those people?
[ She's needy and wanting. Then again so is Jamie, but he doesn't have her hand under his kilt so it's a bit easier for him to resist. He wants to do so much more. But the way she moves back to shallow fuck herself on that finger makes him sigh. He could enjoy that for hours, but he doubts she would. His hips tilt forward to drag his cock against the curve of her ass. The kilt rough against his bare skin as he sighs roughly. ]
Aye. I suppose yer right. Ye are a very challenging lass. [ Not just in this way, but in the other more tame ones as well. She hadn't been willing to give up when they were stopped by the guards. Instead she bluffed her way through along with him. She's a powerful woman. Absolutely perfect. But he doesn't say that. Not right now anyways. This isn't the place for sweet sentiments. It's something far filthier.
He bites down on her shoulder to keep from groaning when she puts that image in his head. Sitting her in his lap and shallowly moving inside of her. He finally lets up and pulls his middle finger out before replace it with two. His middle and ring finger. The fingers resuming the position from before. She was eager to move her hips before. He knows she will now as well. ]
I would nae have been afraid t'. [ He kisses behind her ear. ] Could fuck ye right now if ye wanted. I dinnae wear anything under my kilt. Be so bloody easy to slide right in. Yer certainly wet enough.
[It's an incredibly tempting offer, and for a few seconds she almost agrees. The revelation that he wears nothing under his kilt is mildly scandalous, and later on she'll ask a few clumsy questions about it, but right now that seems nothing but perfect. Good, that he doesn't, that makes it all the easier, and god, but she wants him to fuck her.
Her hips rock back again and again, a quick pace that drives her hips back against his fingers, fucking herself in shallow little thrusts. Just like that, and her legs spread wider, her torso bending forward as she bites back a low groan. More, harder, faster, and all it would take would be one word of agreement, but--]
Nn-- not-- not here--
[It's a real statement, not the petulant things she'd said before just so he could boss her around. Rosalind snaps her hips back, groaning at the way his fingers stretch her open and fill her up, before falling forward to rest her forehead against the cool brick of the wall.
She's silent for a few seconds, though she's still throbbing around his fingers, her body wet and wanting. And then, her eyes closed and her voice heated:]
When you fuck me, Jamie, I don't want it to be in an alley. I'm not some common slut, and I shan't be taken anywhere so filthy.
[She pronounces the words with a clear delight, taking pleasure in her educated, prim voice saying such things.]
When you fuck me . . . I want to see all of you, Jamie. Every single inch. And I want you to see me.
[Now, finally, she glances behind her, meeting his gaze. The darkness hides the way her face goes red as she admits this, but she says it confidently enough.]
And frankly . . . there's an awful lot I want you to do to me that isn't fit for public spaces. Up to and including you putting your hand to me again.
[ There's a soft chuckle when she says no. He can tell the difference between her goading statements and reality. When she really doesn't want something. Though the way she presses back onto his fingers once more is awfully misleading, but he supposes he can't fault her for want. He can't blame her for need or desire that amplifies and erases so many things. He knows if she had her hand on his cock he'd not be able to answer properly.
She's hardly a common slut. Certainly not in this alleyway and not anywhere else. But he doesn't say that. He stays silent and listens to her closely. There's a rough groan that escapes when she insists she wants to see every inch of him. There's a nagging thought in the back of Jamie's mind. Something he's yet to let her see. He's never had his shirt off around her. But she'll see his back and the scar of the cut away skin that once held a brand put into him by Black Jack Randall. He can only hope she doesn't question that one. He can field the ones about his back easily. ]
Then I'm afraid ye'll need to stop fucking yerself on my fingers so we can get home, Rosalind. [ He breathes out against her neck for a moment. Righting himself mentally. He knows he would have liked nothing more than to keep his fingers in her until she came around them, but he'll obey. For this. ] Cause I aim to be inside of you very soon.
[She groans softly as he says that. With a little whine she takes a step forward, pulling away from him, and reaches to tug her panties up and her skirt down. She turns, her nose wrinkled in something dangerously close to a pout, because no matter that it was at her prompting, she isn't pleased at having to lose his fingers.
Ah, well . . . Rosalind reaches for him, taking his hand. With a little hum she puts it to her lips, humming softly to taste herself on him. He can hardly walk her home with his hand so filthy, can he?
It's quick work. Her tongue flits over him, between his fingers, before she releases his hand and takes a few steps forward.]
I'd tell you to come along, Jamie, but I think there's little chance at all you won't follow.
[That's less impudent and more tongue in cheek as she glances back with a smile. They'll resume their game very soon, but there's something a little more ordinary in her tone as they head down the street.]
I can't believe you had the audacity to s-- to put your hand to me in the middle of a bloody bar.
[ He's going to have a difficult time keeping his hands off her after she licks his fingers like that. Cleaning them up before they can resume their walk back to where she was leading him. Likely a residence of some sort. He's curious to see how far it is. He was a virgin for most of his life. It wasn't until his marriage that he did have sex, but ever since he's never once won a battle against desire really. But tonight he'll have to.
She's right. He's not about to stick around in the alley by himself. He follows after her and falls into step alongside her. He wiggles his arm between hers and her body to loop around hers. Walking arm in arm. He's a gentleman after all. Or at least he can pretend to be. ] Ye were being a naughty lass. I had t'. [ He probably didn't have to, but the game is still going quite strong. He's not going to shy away from his decisions now. ]
I hope ye know that I'm nowhere near finished. When we're home--[ His voice is soft, but loud enough for her to hear as they walk. He doesn't make an attempt to turn towards her to muffle any of it. He simply speaks. ]--I'll take ye right over my knee and give ye the proper spankings ye deserve. And I'll do it all with my fingers inside of ye. Punishment is deserved.
[Rosalind leans a little more heavily against him, trusting him to guide their steps, for just one moment basking in the mild affection. Sex aside, she very much simply enjoys his company. He's a reminder of home, for all that he comes a hundred years behind her.
Though no proper gentleman at home would say the things he says. Rosalind's grip on his arm tightens, and god, but she hates, she really truly hates that she loves this so much. Why this? Why this of all things, why on earth does this do it for her, but it does and they both know it.
At least it seems to turn him on as much as it does her. She'd never get over her humiliation if he was secretly laughing at all this.]
All this, and you haven't even kissed me yet.
[It's an airy observation, and she glances up at him. If they're going to play, she's going to play; that challenging look is back, arch and arrogant.]
And what, may I ask, is that for? What have I done to deserve that? Because really, Jamie . . . if you wanted me to act a brat, you ought to have said. That was the least of what I could have done.
But if that's what you want . . . then it's the least I will do, too.
[She pulls away from him before he can answer, leading the way into a small apartment building. It's not a glamorous place, but it suits her purposes, and the landlord doesn't ask too many questions about why she only appears for one week out of the month.
She's very aware of him behind her as she walks up the stairs, which might be why she goes a little quickly, skittish despite herself.
The apartment is small, but certainly not modest. A thick couch sits in the middle of shelves stocked with books. There's a record player in the corner, and a small table that has a few scattered pieces of paper filled with notes on whatever it is she's working on. Her bedroom is off to the side, her door half closed, but she doesn't lead them there just yet.
Instead she turns, facing him, taking a few deliberate steps backwards.]</small
[ She's right. He hasn't kissed her yet. He's noticed it as well. He plans to rectify that once they're inside though. He knows if he does it on the streets he'll never make it to her place with her. He'll break down with her once more. But he doesn't say that. Instead he just gives a half shrug. She'll get what's coming to her eventually. All the things he wishes to do. All the things he intends to do. He doesn't intend to let her come up for air for quite some time. He imagines she has the same intention for him.
But her next slew of questions leave him wondering again. He could easily find a number of things to insist that mean she's been bad. But right now he doesn't intend to list them off. They'd never get home. She leads them off though and into an apartment building they go. Jamie follows behind her with his eyes on her behind as she climbs the stairs ahead of him. It's a lovely view. One he appreciates even as they make their way into her apartment. Jamie carefully shuts the door behind him and turns back towards her.
Rosalind backs away and Jamie has no interest in looking the room over. Instead he surges forward and takes her face in his hands. His lips crash into hers for the first time and he allows himself to kiss her. Hard and thorough. His tongue sliding out to gain entry into her mouth. He wants to ravage her. Everything inside of him wants her. Every strand of him wants to lay claim to her body. ]
Take off--[ Another kiss. ]--yer clothes--[ Another hard one. ]--for me. [ He doesn't wait for her to answer. He just kisses her again. ]
[Fuck, and her breath leaves her, her mouth dropping open eagerly as he kisses her. One hand wraps tight around the back of his neck, and each time he pulls back to speak she's darting up, desperate to reclaim his mouth. He kisses her hard, leaving her lips sore in the best possible way, and she returns each one with a moan.
Her other hand is busy in the meantime: tugging at the buttons of her shirt, the zipper of her skirt, fingers fumbling in her haste to do as he says. She doesn't stop kissing him all the while, pulling back only to bite hard at his bottom lip (and oh, she'll be delighted if she draws blood) or tip her head a different way.
At last she manages to pull her shirt off, rolling her shoulders so it drops to the ground. Her skirt follows, her panties, and though she fumbles a little, the clasp on her bra is soon unhooked. Her stockings will need both hands, but she doubts he'll mind she still has them on.
And there she is, naked and cold, bare before him even as he's still dressed. She'd done it so quickly she hadn't realized, but now Rosalind pants softly, very much aware of the sudden difference between them.
She isn't embarrassed. A little shy, perhaps, but even then it's a quiet thing. Licking her lips, she stares up at him for a few seconds, then presses herself forward, lithe body flush against his.
Her kiss is softer, but no less hungry than the ones of before. And now both her hands work together, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, eager to get him at least a little undressed. It's only fair.
(But this game isn't actually about fairness, not in the least).]
Off--
[She murmurs it, and rises to her toes, catching him in another kiss.]
Shirt off, that ridiculous kilt-- if you're to see me, I want to see you--
[ A woman that give just as good as she takes is very attractive to him. When she kisses him back with the same amount of energy and excitement he can only want more. He can only try to take more. He's too busy enjoying her lips to really notice that bits of her clothing keep hitting the ground. He's busy enjoying her. Touching her. That bite gets a growling sound from him. He tastes the copper before he realizes she's made him bleed. Another thing he'll take her over his knee for in case he needed more.
Once she backs up he takes a moment to look. A moment to appreciate her form. He's really only seen one other naked female frame truly and it was his wife's. This one belongs to Rosalind and it makes him warm to the touch. He wants to study her more, but she presses close and his arms come around her. Sinking into the kiss for a moment until he realizes she's trying to remove his shirt. Then insisting he take off his kilt. Fair is fair. He's a wee bit nervous, but he'll cope. ]
Aye.
[ Jamie mumbles as he steps back. He reaches to undo the belt around his waist and lets it drop. The ouch attached to it along with his dirk in the sheath hit the ground. Next is his kilt which requires a bit more skill and precision. Unwrapping fabric from his body. It's a show when he puts it on come morning. He has to lay down to do it, but getting it off is much easier. He doesn't do much else than discard the fabric behind him.
His shirt drops down now to his knees that his kilt is gone. There's a touch of hesitation and it's probably why he goes about removing his boots quickly. One last thing to prolong what must be seen. Finally he removes it from his torso. The fabric flutters to the floor and he steps towards her. Bare like her. She can't quite see the markings that cover his back. The scars upon scars created by the 200 lashings. Fleshed turned to ribbons before an audience of his countrymen. ]
[His sudden drop in energy surprises her, but she matches it, not wanting to overwhelm him. She takes a few steps back, watching him with obvious desire as he removes his kilt (and it really is a ridiculous garment, what on earth the Scots were thinking when they invented it she's sure she doesn't know, but that's a fight they'll have another time). His boots are next, and then his shirt, and he's . . .
She doesn't see it yet. She doesn't realize. But what she does see, she knows she enjoys. He's a rough man, battle-scarred and muscled, but that's no bad thing.]
Did you think I wouldn't like you?
[She says it softly. It's not the cloyingly sweet thing it had been before, arrogance masked as politeness. Rosalind reaches for him, her fingers sliding up his bare chest, a slight smile on her face. Her other hand drags idly over his side, pleased at the warmth she finds. There's a scar that's particularly large on his side, a circle that makes her curious as to what might have happened, but she won't ruin the mood by asking.
Tonight, perhaps, between rounds, when they're sated and exploring one another's bodies more languidly. But right now, her fingers ignore it, gliding further down, teasing at the jut of his hip.]
I do. Very much.
[She reaches for his hands now, putting them on her hips, encouraging him to touch in return. He hadn't needed prompting before, but there's a world of difference between groping outside a bar and touching a naked woman properly.
Her hips are wide, inching out just a touch wider than proportionately attractive, but Rosalind has never minded. Pale skin littered with freckles and the noticeable swell of her chest means she's few insecurities when it comes to her body. She squirms, leaning back only enough that he might see her more, and reaches to rub her thumb against his bottom lip.]
[ He's not that shy truly, but not many women have seem him truly naked. Though many people around his home have seen his back. Especially around Castle Leoch. Dougal exploited him for more coin while collecting rent. Using the sob story about how the poor boy was flogged twice in a week. Beaten so terribly he was straining against the restraints towards the end to stay on his feet. He puffed it up and he sold it to the masses while tearing the back of Jamie's shirt open to make them all afraid. To make them want to fight back against the English.
Perhaps a part of him has grown a touch skittish about baring the parts of himself that once were a harsh reminder of the stain he put on his family. His father died that day he was flogged before the other people. His sister was forced to manage on her own though there was Ian. He can only thank God for bringing her someone to protect her. His scars were a part of him he didn't want to show the world, but Claire's acceptance of them had made him relax more. He knows Rosalind can't see them now, but she will soon. He can only wait and see. ]
Aye? [ He smiles as she takes his hands and puts them on her hips Urging him in the direction she wants. He has no problem resuming touching her once more. He squeezes her hips hard and pulls her in. He cocks his brow when she comments on what she'd done to him. ] Cause ye bit me, ye bonnie snake. [ He lifts her up off the ground and carries her over towards the couch. He sits with her straddling him. His hands loop around to cup her behind. ]
[She lets out a little noise as he picks her up, grabbing for his shoulders, a somewhat panicked look crossing her features. She's never gotten used to being picked up, no matter how many times Robert or any other man does it. Her legs slot around his hips, but of course he bears her weight easily, and within a moment she's seated in his lap, her legs spread wide.
His cock is slotted between her cunt, hot and hard, and she rocks her hips down, teasing them both with the motion.]
You're really going to focus on that when you could have this?
[Of course he is. He's going to take his hand to her in less than a minute, she's certain, but she likes resisting.]
[ She's a vixen. A demon in disguise. But he loves it. He loves the way she challenges him at every turn. She does bring up a very good point. She's resting against him and when she rocks her hips for him Jamie's head tilts back into the cushions. A heavy groan escapes him as he digs his fingers into her flesh. ] Christ, woman. [ She knows what she's doing and he can't really say that he doesn't agree with her idea slightly. It does feel very good.
But Jamie has gotten quite good at doing exactly what others don't expect of him. They might think they have him in a bind, but often he finds a way. He finds a way to overcome. Instead of man handling her over his lap he leans forward and tilts his head to wrap his lips around one of her nipples. He sucks at the soft flesh as his hand smacks the top of her ass. Maybe he's not taking her over his knee, but he needed to get something in. ]
Then put me inside of ye, Rosalind. Dinnae make me wait. I've been thinking about being inside ye ever since I pulled ye into my lap.
[Rosalind jerks atop him, teeth digging into her lip to stop herself from yelping as he smacks her. Oh, and for a moment she stares, wide-eyed, caught between the desire to fuck herself on him and to beg him to do that again.
But one wins out over the other, and she squirms, rocking atop him again. Later. They have all night, later she'll beg him to spank her properly (or at least goad him into doing it, that's far more suiting her pride).]
I'm certain you have.
[She says it breathlessly, her nails digging into his shoulders as she aches for his mouth again. Spreading her legs, she keeps her eyes locked on his face as she reaches between them, gripping him tightly and pressing him up against her.]
Ah--
[There's just a moment where her cunt protests, throbbing at the sudden intrusion, but burst of pain only adds to her pleasure. With a moan she tips her head back, sinking herself down low, whining for the way he stretches her open and fills her so fucking perfectly, god. Her legs spread so she can sink her hips down all the lower, til she's taken him as deep as she can.]
Fuck-- fuck, Jamie, t-that's--
[It's a vulgar swear, but she doesn't regret it. Rosalind darts forward, kissing him hungrily, tasting copper and him both as she slips her tongue forward. Her hips rock against him, rising and falling, bouncing in his lap and moaning at each thrust.]
[ It was hard not to think of lifting that skirt just a bit to allow her legs to spread wider there. Having her straddle him at the table and lifting his kilt up just enough. It was quite a bit of fabric to begin with. They wouldn't worry too much about it. Then he could get her to sink down on him right then and there before all those unaware eyes. All those people that were looking to do exactly the same to the people they had with them. Made him shiver just thinking about it. But he doesn't have time to think too much about it because her fingers wrap around him.
Jamie's muscles tighten and he looks up at her. Focusing on her face as she comes down on him. His cock pressing into her more and more. She's a bit like a vice grip at first. Though not quite. Too warm and wet to be a true one. The sounds she makes and the way her face contorts keep his gaze glued to her. Jamie groans with each little bit she takes him into her more. He bites his bottom lip waiting until that glorious moment.
It's not often he hears her swear like that. She's got this class to her. This sophistication. She silences any words he may have for the moment by kissing him. Which helps muffle the sound that rips from him when she rocks and starts to move in his lap more firmly. Fucking herself good and proper on him just like that. Jamie breaks the kiss to suck in a gasping breath.
He puts his arms around her lower back and buries his face in her chest for a moment. Soft sounds of pleasure escape him until he kisses her chest. Slow and wet before going to the other breast he didn't get a chance to enjoy before. His tongue snakes around and over her nipple before he sucks it into his mouth once more. ]
[Her moans only grow louder as his tongue teases over her breasts. Her poor neighbors, and Rosalind spares a vague thought for them, but she can't be bothered to care. She doesn't even know them, and none of them are proper refugees, so they're really too petty to worry about. Her knees draw in, locking in on his hips, as she drops down hard on his cock.]
L-like that-- use your teeth--
[You can be rough, and it's not as if he's held back, but she wants to be certain. She isn't made of glass, and she never wants to be treated as such when it comes to the bedroom. Blood and bruises, scratches and bites . . . her bloodying his lip was only a preview.
Her hands brace on his shoulders, her nails digging in as she picks up the pace. But oh, no-- she love the way his tongue flits over her, but she hasn't forgotten their fight. One hand darts up, raking through his hair and gripping it tightly, forcing his head back so she can stare down at him, watching every flicker in his expression.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 02:15 am (UTC)She imagines what it will be like to have those fingers digging into her, gripping her wrists and pinning her down or plunging deep into her-- and oh, but there's a thought to keep her warm. How it would feel (will feel, and what a delicious inevitability it is) to have him deep in her, fingering her until she's squirming and whining and begging him to fuck her properly.
If she was any kind of respectable woman, she'd have wrenched his hands off by now. But Rosalind waits until they've slid back entirely, palms flat over the curve of her ass, ignoring her body's urging to push eagerly back into them.
That's for later.
It's a good slap she gives him. Not her hardest, but sharp and stinging, a punishment and a goading come-hither all at once. The resulting noise is loud enough to draw attention, and there's ringing silence within the bar. But that only lasts a moment; soon there's laughter, drunken and not entirely mean-spirited, as people settle in to watch the show they might or might not provide.
Rosalind rises to her toes, her hand dropping to grip the front of his shirt and tug him in close.]
Now . . . come along.
[She'll wrench away from out and walk out the door if he lets her. She's an apartment not too far from here, a modest place that she rents for times like these.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 02:27 am (UTC)Jamie's grip loosens when she pulls away because she's driving them out of the tavern and that's what really matters. But once they hit the night air he doesn't stay gone for long. He doesn't remain passive. They make it a total of nine steps before Jamie loops an arm around her from behind. Roughly pulling her back against him and side stepping into the alley that runs along the tavern. Caught between the tavern and a little shop that's been closed for hours.
He presses her forward against the outer wall of the tavern and takes hold of her hips. ] What did I say about telling me what t' do? [ Jamie slides his hands up her sides and around to cup her chest. They're alone for now. No one here to get a free show. Which he appreciates. ] Though I see ye've decided to be my bad lassie now have huvnae ye?
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Date: 2018-03-14 02:42 am (UTC)Besides: they're still close enough to the tavern she can hear voices. Snatches of conversation, individual words and barks of laughter . . . and though she'd hate the reality, oh, god, but the thought of someone walking out here and catching them makes her melt. Him with his hands all over her, under her shirt or shoving up her skirt, claiming her no matter who was there to see . . . god, and she pants as she grinds her hips back again, rocking against him.]
I hardly-- ah-- I hardly see how my obeying you renders me into something bad. You told me to slap you, Jamie. I was only being good. Isn't that what you want?
[It's a drawling voice, baiting and teasing, as she glances back to try and catch his eye.]
Tell me-- [she says, and it's most definitely deliberately framed as an order] -- why is it you think you're allowed to order me around and not vice-versa? Bossy thing, didn't anyone ever tell you that's not how you get a woman to like you?
[She says, squirming eagerly against him, but at least she's aware of it.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 02:51 am (UTC)Thought ye dinnae want to be my good lass?
[ She did give him the decision to decide on what she'd be. At this point he's certain she's straddling the line of both. Something that only makes her more appealing right now. The way her voice sounds and the way her breath catches. When she catches his eye it takes every ounce of self control now to kiss her. Pushing the moment back as far as he can just to see how it'll feel when he does get to.
The corner of his mouth raises in a smile. He gives her breasts a firm squeeze in both hands before the one without the stiff fingers lowers down the front of her body. Creeping down the front of her skirt as he thinks. ] I ken plenty of how to get a woman t' like me. I think ye like me just fine. [ He doesn't seem to wait or hesitate when he grabs the bottom hem of her skirt. He pulls it upward so his arm can disappear under the fabric. Fingers slowly teasing up her thighs. ]
And I get t' boss ye about cause the other way is how ye live. Always giving the orders. Now I'll be givin' them. Ye understand?
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Date: 2018-03-14 03:05 am (UTC)[Oh, she hadn't expected him to do that, and for just a moment she balks. Groping and touching is one thing, but she'd best make a decision quick on whether she truly wants him to lift her skirt while they're in public.
The sensible, logical side of her says no, and there's a hundred different reasons why. No, it's too dangerous; no, what if you're caught; no, there are people nearby and if you moan they'll hear you, no, tell him no, he'll stop, tell him to wait until you get home, make it a bait, he's eager to catch you, make him hungrier--
But his fingers are warm and rough against her thigh, and it's all she can do not to beg him to slide them against her. Her panties are soaked through already, wet and sticking to her cunt, and she can't stand the thought of walking all the way home without at least a taste of what's to come.
White teeth flash against red lip as she bites her bottom lip. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving him more than enough room to touch where he likes, and rolls her hips back once more.]
. . . yes.
[She breathes it out, her head ducking forward. The movement bares her neck to him, and she thinks suddenly of how an animal signifies submission, by going pliant and baring their most vulnerable parts. She thinks of how she must look right now, no better than some common slut, slumped over in an alley while a man touches and takes as he likes. And she thinks, with dazed amusement, how her mother would shriek to see her like this: not just in public, not just letting a man take her, but a Scot, and oh, what a shame that is.
She won't be this pliant all night. That's hardly fun. But for right this second, Rosalind submits, shivering beneath his hand.]
Yes sir . . . would that be better?
[Mm. Perhaps not entirely submissive.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 03:43 am (UTC)Her reactions only seem to add fuel to the fire. They make him want to do more. Press whatever boundaries she might have initially had. He disregards her comment of sir for the moment. His hand drags around under her skirt to cup her ass. His hand on her breast lifts to cover her mouth and he gives her panty clad ass a little smack. Not too hard, but enough. His lips brush her neck as he smiles gently. ] Sir would help.
[ Jamie grabs the top of her underwear and gives them a pull downward. Not completely. Just down to her thighs which gives him what he wants. Hand coming back around to her cunt as his fingers glide down against her lips. ] Yer soaked, lass, ye've been thinking about me? [ He nibbles at her neck with another throaty chuckle. His middle finger dips between her lips and presses downward to tease at her opening. The tip gliding against the slick. ]
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Date: 2018-03-14 03:58 am (UTC)And oh, fuck, but that's hideously good. He's barely even doing anything, but it doesn't matter; she jerks and squirms, throbbing around nothing, eager to feel those heated fingers push up and into her.
She doesn't answer his question. Of course she's been thinking of him; she's been thinking of him the moment she pressed up against him (was it really only half an hour ago?). She's thinking of how he's hard behind her; of how it would feel for him to bend her over and take her right now, in the alley, and damned anyone who might see them. And she's thinking of how her ass stings, but not enough; how he'd threatened to put her over his knee and how wet that had made her.
His fingers drag over her shamelessly, but not far enough, and she growls softly in irritation. Rosalind squirms pointedly, her hips rocking backwards. More, that isn't enough, and he's not stupid, he's not refusing her because he's shy or clumsy, but still she acts as though he needs instruction. More, and she drops her mouth open, wet lips against his palm, tipping her head to try and catch his fingers in her mouth.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 04:08 am (UTC)Jamie's teasing. That much is certain. She gets what she wants when she wants it. Denying her is half the fun. It's half the dance. He does wonder how she'd react if he lifted his kilt up to slide into her from behind her. It wouldn't take much effort. He wouldn't even need to spit into his palm. He's certain she'd wet enough to handle him just as she is right now. But he holds off just for the moment. Just to see what else he can drive her to. ]
There's a good lass. [ He whispers. He gives her a hand with her endevours. He moves hand just enough to press two fingers between those beautiful lips. If she wants something to suck then he's happy to oblige. Finally his finger presses down further and slowly presses into her. It's an agonizing pace most likely, but he doesn't shy away. He curls it and presses it up and forward. ]
Should I have done this for ye in there? Dinnae think ye could've handled it.
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Date: 2018-03-14 04:21 am (UTC)She does so love to tease. But oh, the instant his finger slips into her she moans, and that's entirely for her own benefit, not his. She rocks her hips back, fucking herself shallowly against him, throbbing eagerly around him. It's not big enough, not at all, and she's aching for him to push a second finger into her, but she'll take what she can get.
Her head jerks in a nod, though in truth she never would have allowed such a thing. But who cares? It's a fantasy, and already her mind is flitting along those lines. Being fingered under the table by him, her face red and her body shaking with the effort of not giving them away . . .
She moans again, then turns with a gasp, glancing back at him. Her lipstick is a little smeared, her mouth wet, but it's worth it to catch his eye again.]
O-of course I could have handled it . . . you know me well enough by now to know there's little I can't do if I put my mind to it.
Is that what you wanted? To fuck me in f-front of all of those people?
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Date: 2018-03-14 04:47 am (UTC)Aye. I suppose yer right. Ye are a very challenging lass. [ Not just in this way, but in the other more tame ones as well. She hadn't been willing to give up when they were stopped by the guards. Instead she bluffed her way through along with him. She's a powerful woman. Absolutely perfect. But he doesn't say that. Not right now anyways. This isn't the place for sweet sentiments. It's something far filthier.
He bites down on her shoulder to keep from groaning when she puts that image in his head. Sitting her in his lap and shallowly moving inside of her. He finally lets up and pulls his middle finger out before replace it with two. His middle and ring finger. The fingers resuming the position from before. She was eager to move her hips before. He knows she will now as well. ]
I would nae have been afraid t'. [ He kisses behind her ear. ] Could fuck ye right now if ye wanted. I dinnae wear anything under my kilt. Be so bloody easy to slide right in. Yer certainly wet enough.
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Date: 2018-03-14 04:59 am (UTC)Her hips rock back again and again, a quick pace that drives her hips back against his fingers, fucking herself in shallow little thrusts. Just like that, and her legs spread wider, her torso bending forward as she bites back a low groan. More, harder, faster, and all it would take would be one word of agreement, but--]
Nn-- not-- not here--
[It's a real statement, not the petulant things she'd said before just so he could boss her around. Rosalind snaps her hips back, groaning at the way his fingers stretch her open and fill her up, before falling forward to rest her forehead against the cool brick of the wall.
She's silent for a few seconds, though she's still throbbing around his fingers, her body wet and wanting. And then, her eyes closed and her voice heated:]
When you fuck me, Jamie, I don't want it to be in an alley. I'm not some common slut, and I shan't be taken anywhere so filthy.
[She pronounces the words with a clear delight, taking pleasure in her educated, prim voice saying such things.]
When you fuck me . . . I want to see all of you, Jamie. Every single inch. And I want you to see me.
[Now, finally, she glances behind her, meeting his gaze. The darkness hides the way her face goes red as she admits this, but she says it confidently enough.]
And frankly . . . there's an awful lot I want you to do to me that isn't fit for public spaces. Up to and including you putting your hand to me again.
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Date: 2018-03-14 05:10 am (UTC)She's hardly a common slut. Certainly not in this alleyway and not anywhere else. But he doesn't say that. He stays silent and listens to her closely. There's a rough groan that escapes when she insists she wants to see every inch of him. There's a nagging thought in the back of Jamie's mind. Something he's yet to let her see. He's never had his shirt off around her. But she'll see his back and the scar of the cut away skin that once held a brand put into him by Black Jack Randall. He can only hope she doesn't question that one. He can field the ones about his back easily. ]
Then I'm afraid ye'll need to stop fucking yerself on my fingers so we can get home, Rosalind. [ He breathes out against her neck for a moment. Righting himself mentally. He knows he would have liked nothing more than to keep his fingers in her until she came around them, but he'll obey. For this. ] Cause I aim to be inside of you very soon.
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Date: 2018-03-14 05:21 am (UTC)Ah, well . . . Rosalind reaches for him, taking his hand. With a little hum she puts it to her lips, humming softly to taste herself on him. He can hardly walk her home with his hand so filthy, can he?
It's quick work. Her tongue flits over him, between his fingers, before she releases his hand and takes a few steps forward.]
I'd tell you to come along, Jamie, but I think there's little chance at all you won't follow.
[That's less impudent and more tongue in cheek as she glances back with a smile. They'll resume their game very soon, but there's something a little more ordinary in her tone as they head down the street.]
I can't believe you had the audacity to s-- to put your hand to me in the middle of a bloody bar.
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Date: 2018-03-14 05:28 am (UTC)She's right. He's not about to stick around in the alley by himself. He follows after her and falls into step alongside her. He wiggles his arm between hers and her body to loop around hers. Walking arm in arm. He's a gentleman after all. Or at least he can pretend to be. ] Ye were being a naughty lass. I had t'. [ He probably didn't have to, but the game is still going quite strong. He's not going to shy away from his decisions now. ]
I hope ye know that I'm nowhere near finished. When we're home--[ His voice is soft, but loud enough for her to hear as they walk. He doesn't make an attempt to turn towards her to muffle any of it. He simply speaks. ]--I'll take ye right over my knee and give ye the proper spankings ye deserve. And I'll do it all with my fingers inside of ye. Punishment is deserved.
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Date: 2018-03-14 05:44 am (UTC)Though no proper gentleman at home would say the things he says. Rosalind's grip on his arm tightens, and god, but she hates, she really truly hates that she loves this so much. Why this? Why this of all things, why on earth does this do it for her, but it does and they both know it.
At least it seems to turn him on as much as it does her. She'd never get over her humiliation if he was secretly laughing at all this.]
All this, and you haven't even kissed me yet.
[It's an airy observation, and she glances up at him. If they're going to play, she's going to play; that challenging look is back, arch and arrogant.]
And what, may I ask, is that for? What have I done to deserve that? Because really, Jamie . . . if you wanted me to act a brat, you ought to have said. That was the least of what I could have done.
But if that's what you want . . . then it's the least I will do, too.
[She pulls away from him before he can answer, leading the way into a small apartment building. It's not a glamorous place, but it suits her purposes, and the landlord doesn't ask too many questions about why she only appears for one week out of the month.
She's very aware of him behind her as she walks up the stairs, which might be why she goes a little quickly, skittish despite herself.
The apartment is small, but certainly not modest. A thick couch sits in the middle of shelves stocked with books. There's a record player in the corner, and a small table that has a few scattered pieces of paper filled with notes on whatever it is she's working on. Her bedroom is off to the side, her door half closed, but she doesn't lead them there just yet.
Instead she turns, facing him, taking a few deliberate steps backwards.]</small
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Date: 2018-03-14 05:55 am (UTC)But her next slew of questions leave him wondering again. He could easily find a number of things to insist that mean she's been bad. But right now he doesn't intend to list them off. They'd never get home. She leads them off though and into an apartment building they go. Jamie follows behind her with his eyes on her behind as she climbs the stairs ahead of him. It's a lovely view. One he appreciates even as they make their way into her apartment. Jamie carefully shuts the door behind him and turns back towards her.
Rosalind backs away and Jamie has no interest in looking the room over. Instead he surges forward and takes her face in his hands. His lips crash into hers for the first time and he allows himself to kiss her. Hard and thorough. His tongue sliding out to gain entry into her mouth. He wants to ravage her. Everything inside of him wants her. Every strand of him wants to lay claim to her body. ]
Take off--[ Another kiss. ]--yer clothes--[ Another hard one. ]--for me. [ He doesn't wait for her to answer. He just kisses her again. ]
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Date: 2018-03-14 06:10 am (UTC)Her other hand is busy in the meantime: tugging at the buttons of her shirt, the zipper of her skirt, fingers fumbling in her haste to do as he says. She doesn't stop kissing him all the while, pulling back only to bite hard at his bottom lip (and oh, she'll be delighted if she draws blood) or tip her head a different way.
At last she manages to pull her shirt off, rolling her shoulders so it drops to the ground. Her skirt follows, her panties, and though she fumbles a little, the clasp on her bra is soon unhooked. Her stockings will need both hands, but she doubts he'll mind she still has them on.
And there she is, naked and cold, bare before him even as he's still dressed. She'd done it so quickly she hadn't realized, but now Rosalind pants softly, very much aware of the sudden difference between them.
She isn't embarrassed. A little shy, perhaps, but even then it's a quiet thing. Licking her lips, she stares up at him for a few seconds, then presses herself forward, lithe body flush against his.
Her kiss is softer, but no less hungry than the ones of before. And now both her hands work together, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, eager to get him at least a little undressed. It's only fair.
(But this game isn't actually about fairness, not in the least).]
Off--
[She murmurs it, and rises to her toes, catching him in another kiss.]
Shirt off, that ridiculous kilt-- if you're to see me, I want to see you--
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Date: 2018-03-14 06:27 am (UTC)Once she backs up he takes a moment to look. A moment to appreciate her form. He's really only seen one other naked female frame truly and it was his wife's. This one belongs to Rosalind and it makes him warm to the touch. He wants to study her more, but she presses close and his arms come around her. Sinking into the kiss for a moment until he realizes she's trying to remove his shirt. Then insisting he take off his kilt. Fair is fair. He's a wee bit nervous, but he'll cope. ]
Aye.
[ Jamie mumbles as he steps back. He reaches to undo the belt around his waist and lets it drop. The ouch attached to it along with his dirk in the sheath hit the ground. Next is his kilt which requires a bit more skill and precision. Unwrapping fabric from his body. It's a show when he puts it on come morning. He has to lay down to do it, but getting it off is much easier. He doesn't do much else than discard the fabric behind him.
His shirt drops down now to his knees that his kilt is gone. There's a touch of hesitation and it's probably why he goes about removing his boots quickly. One last thing to prolong what must be seen. Finally he removes it from his torso. The fabric flutters to the floor and he steps towards her. Bare like her. She can't quite see the markings that cover his back. The scars upon scars created by the 200 lashings. Fleshed turned to ribbons before an audience of his countrymen. ]
Now ye see me.
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Date: 2018-03-14 06:37 am (UTC)She doesn't see it yet. She doesn't realize. But what she does see, she knows she enjoys. He's a rough man, battle-scarred and muscled, but that's no bad thing.]
Did you think I wouldn't like you?
[She says it softly. It's not the cloyingly sweet thing it had been before, arrogance masked as politeness. Rosalind reaches for him, her fingers sliding up his bare chest, a slight smile on her face. Her other hand drags idly over his side, pleased at the warmth she finds. There's a scar that's particularly large on his side, a circle that makes her curious as to what might have happened, but she won't ruin the mood by asking.
Tonight, perhaps, between rounds, when they're sated and exploring one another's bodies more languidly. But right now, her fingers ignore it, gliding further down, teasing at the jut of his hip.]
I do. Very much.
[She reaches for his hands now, putting them on her hips, encouraging him to touch in return. He hadn't needed prompting before, but there's a world of difference between groping outside a bar and touching a naked woman properly.
Her hips are wide, inching out just a touch wider than proportionately attractive, but Rosalind has never minded. Pale skin littered with freckles and the noticeable swell of her chest means she's few insecurities when it comes to her body. She squirms, leaning back only enough that he might see her more, and reaches to rub her thumb against his bottom lip.]
You're bleeding . . .
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:00 am (UTC)Perhaps a part of him has grown a touch skittish about baring the parts of himself that once were a harsh reminder of the stain he put on his family. His father died that day he was flogged before the other people. His sister was forced to manage on her own though there was Ian. He can only thank God for bringing her someone to protect her. His scars were a part of him he didn't want to show the world, but Claire's acceptance of them had made him relax more. He knows Rosalind can't see them now, but she will soon. He can only wait and see. ]
Aye? [ He smiles as she takes his hands and puts them on her hips Urging him in the direction she wants. He has no problem resuming touching her once more. He squeezes her hips hard and pulls her in. He cocks his brow when she comments on what she'd done to him. ] Cause ye bit me, ye bonnie snake. [ He lifts her up off the ground and carries her over towards the couch. He sits with her straddling him. His hands loop around to cup her behind. ]
Are ye ready for your punishment?
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:07 am (UTC)His cock is slotted between her cunt, hot and hard, and she rocks her hips down, teasing them both with the motion.]
You're really going to focus on that when you could have this?
[Of course he is. He's going to take his hand to her in less than a minute, she's certain, but she likes resisting.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:19 am (UTC)But Jamie has gotten quite good at doing exactly what others don't expect of him. They might think they have him in a bind, but often he finds a way. He finds a way to overcome. Instead of man handling her over his lap he leans forward and tilts his head to wrap his lips around one of her nipples. He sucks at the soft flesh as his hand smacks the top of her ass. Maybe he's not taking her over his knee, but he needed to get something in. ]
Then put me inside of ye, Rosalind. Dinnae make me wait. I've been thinking about being inside ye ever since I pulled ye into my lap.
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:27 am (UTC)But one wins out over the other, and she squirms, rocking atop him again. Later. They have all night, later she'll beg him to spank her properly (or at least goad him into doing it, that's far more suiting her pride).]
I'm certain you have.
[She says it breathlessly, her nails digging into his shoulders as she aches for his mouth again. Spreading her legs, she keeps her eyes locked on his face as she reaches between them, gripping him tightly and pressing him up against her.]
Ah--
[There's just a moment where her cunt protests, throbbing at the sudden intrusion, but burst of pain only adds to her pleasure. With a moan she tips her head back, sinking herself down low, whining for the way he stretches her open and fills her so fucking perfectly, god. Her legs spread so she can sink her hips down all the lower, til she's taken him as deep as she can.]
Fuck-- fuck, Jamie, t-that's--
[It's a vulgar swear, but she doesn't regret it. Rosalind darts forward, kissing him hungrily, tasting copper and him both as she slips her tongue forward. Her hips rock against him, rising and falling, bouncing in his lap and moaning at each thrust.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:35 am (UTC)Jamie's muscles tighten and he looks up at her. Focusing on her face as she comes down on him. His cock pressing into her more and more. She's a bit like a vice grip at first. Though not quite. Too warm and wet to be a true one. The sounds she makes and the way her face contorts keep his gaze glued to her. Jamie groans with each little bit she takes him into her more. He bites his bottom lip waiting until that glorious moment.
It's not often he hears her swear like that. She's got this class to her. This sophistication. She silences any words he may have for the moment by kissing him. Which helps muffle the sound that rips from him when she rocks and starts to move in his lap more firmly. Fucking herself good and proper on him just like that. Jamie breaks the kiss to suck in a gasping breath.
He puts his arms around her lower back and buries his face in her chest for a moment. Soft sounds of pleasure escape him until he kisses her chest. Slow and wet before going to the other breast he didn't get a chance to enjoy before. His tongue snakes around and over her nipple before he sucks it into his mouth once more. ]
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:51 am (UTC)L-like that-- use your teeth--
[You can be rough, and it's not as if he's held back, but she wants to be certain. She isn't made of glass, and she never wants to be treated as such when it comes to the bedroom. Blood and bruises, scratches and bites . . . her bloodying his lip was only a preview.
Her hands brace on his shoulders, her nails digging in as she picks up the pace. But oh, no-- she love the way his tongue flits over her, but she hasn't forgotten their fight. One hand darts up, raking through his hair and gripping it tightly, forcing his head back so she can stare down at him, watching every flicker in his expression.]
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