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Jul. 28th, 2017 06:07 pm
stripebacked: (Default)
[personal profile] stripebacked
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Date: 2018-03-14 07:27 am (UTC)
originallutece: the elusive o-face (flirt; WHOOP THERE IT IS)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[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.]

Date: 2018-03-14 07:51 am (UTC)
originallutece: up on the moors (flirt; romance book cover 2.0)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[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.]

Date: 2018-03-21 06:36 am (UTC)
originallutece: the elusive o-face (flirt; WHOOP THERE IT IS)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[She gives a giddy sort of gasp as she lands flat on her back, delighted and surprised all at once. In an instant her legs wrap tight around his waist, her hips inching up to meet his short, sharp thrusts. Absently, she notes that her heels feel something oddly rough against his back, but she hasn't the attention span to pay it mind right now.

And fuck, but that feels good-- her head snaps back, baring her throat as a low moan slips past her lips. And there's another, and another, because he's big and thick and fucking hell, but she's going to get off too soon, she knows she is, but she can't be bothered to worry about that either. Right now she's only focusing on the way she feels, the way he looks above her, the way his hair feels when she smooths her fingers through it, the way his hips look as he pistons into her, filling her up so perfectly again and again. He leans down, and--]


Jamie--!

[She'd thought he'd go for her neck, not her breast, but oh, god, and her body arches up off the couch, her free arm darting over her head to grip the fabric tightly. Each teasing scrape of his teeth leaves her shivering, but it's when he pulls that he gets a whimper, low and needy.]

A-and is this what you wanted to do in the tavern?

[She twists beneath him, writhing, entirely unable to help it. It's a struggle to keep her eyes open, but it's worth it to watch him against the curve of her breast, all eager gaze and teasing scrapes of his teeth. She pants, watching him, tightening around his cock again and again.]

Nn-- I s-suppose this is a bit too difficult for a tavern-- much-- oh-- much easier to, to bend me over a bloody table-- though y-you'd have to share the view, at least, if not the ex-- fuck!

Date: 2018-03-21 06:58 am (UTC)
originallutece: don't talk and ruin it (flirt; listen i'm super into this)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[She's melting beneath him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as her shrieks get louder and she makes some attempt to muffle them. It doesn't do much good; within a moment her left hand darts up, slamming over her mouth to stop herself from outright screaming. It's nothing to do with consideration for her neighbors and everything to do with respectability; there's moaning and then there's screaming, and she won't make a fool of herself by going off like some virgin.

Her right hand darts down, though. Two fingers roll greedily against herself, pressing down hard against her clit. She's soaked, and her fingers are drenched within an instant. And though she's trying to keep herself quiet, her fingers lift so she can breathe out:]


Please--?

[Whether she's asking or simply entreating is up for debate, but it's entirely for his benefit. He'd been so eager to dominate her; this will only add to it.]

Date: 2018-03-21 07:26 am (UTC)
originallutece: or at least lust i guess (flirt; drrrrunk in love)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[Her eyes go wide as he takes her fingers in his mouth, and for a moment she simply stares, more turned on by that than she wants to admit. There's something hypnotizing about how his lips look wrapped tight around something, and she shudders as his tongue slides against the sensitive pads of her fingers, cleaning her off thoroughly.

She undoes his work the moment he speaks. Her hand darts down again, rubbing against herself in quick, hard motions, foregoing teasing entirely in favor of getting what she wants (and that's almost a metaphor, except it isn't, she's just impatient and turned on and so close she'd been ready to beg him if he'd asked for it). Rosalind tips her head, the fingers of her free hand wrapping tight around the back of his neck, her eyes squeezing shut.

It's his name on her lips as she gets closer to her peak, interspersed with whimpers and whispers, fragments of sentences: Jamie please Jamie that's oh just like that that's you feel so good oh god Jamie please-- over and over, her voice higher than it usually is, her hips snapping up again and again.

And there, and her head snaps back, her body spasming beneath him, there,
three hard throbbing waves around his prick, and she whimpers as she comes down from it, oversensitive. She's going to scream again in a moment, and dazedly she wonders if she'll come again as he fucks her.]

Date: 2018-03-21 07:43 am (UTC)
originallutece: til i get that research grant (flirt; gonna stare at you all lustful)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
Christ, Jamie--

[She whispers it, but it's amused, amused and aroused, and maybe once he comes she'll tell him just what she thinks of him calling her that all night. But right now she's concerned about only one thing.

Her hips snap up more readily, meeting each thrust, and though her body feels on fire with oversensitivity, it's a sensation she enjoys. She moans freely, loving it for what it is, feeling her breasts bounce as he fucks her with abandon.]


Come on-- I can feel it coming, come on, sweet--

[She tips her heads, breathing the words against his ear. Her hands drag down, sweeping over his broad shoulders and slipping down his back. She expects smooth skin, perhaps broken up with scars, but what she feels--

She doesn't know what she feels. It's so rough, and for half a second her eyes widen, but she shoves her shock aside. It's scarring or the remnants of a burn, she has no idea what, but she won't ruin things by being a child about it. Her fingers stutter for only a few seconds, then continue their path downwards, til she's gripping his hips tightly.]

Date: 2018-03-21 07:58 am (UTC)
originallutece: not of you booker it's never of you (happy; reluctantly fond)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
[She laughs, quietly and surprisingly lightly, but an orgasm does wonders for her spirits. Besides: of all the people she knows here, she knows she has little to fear from Jamie Fraser. He won't hear her laugh and think her suddenly foolish or incapable.]

I bet you wouldn't.

[She squirms pointedly, pleased despite herself he'd finished in her. It is claiming, though she'd never admit it out loud, and though they might never be in love, it's nice to be claimed.

He ought to finish on her next, she thinks, and tips her head, nosing idly against him.]


Filthy thing . . . what was that you were saying?

[Those curses, she means, and her tongue is clumsy as she tries to repeat them.]

Date: 2018-05-01 05:34 am (UTC)
originallutece: in the friscalating dusklight (talk; and they rode on)
From: [personal profile] originallutece
Hmm . . . you'll have to teach me someday.

[But she's content to know the general shape of them, if not the specific meanings. Squirming again (just to tease this time, and the curve of her smirk says as much), Rosalind runs her hands over him again, against his shoulders and down his back, and--

Ah. There's that scarring, thick and overlapping against his back. A whipping? Possibly, but Rosalind knows she hasn't the imagination to know what kinds of weapons might leave those marks on a man. But if it was a whipping, it must have been several over a long period of time; there's so many she's certain he would have died if it was all in one go.

Her eyes flicker up, meeting his, and she tips her head in silent question.]

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