[There is, indeed, another woman with fiery hair and a powerful presence than flits at the edges of Jonathan's thoughts. But Elisabeth... No. Thinking of her now would only bring this to a premature and unsatisfactory end.
Jonathan lets her go and leans back so that he sit a little more easily and wrangle her undergarments off followed by his own. When they're both done, he lifts one of her legs and places it onto his shoulder, followed by the other. There's a press of his lips to each once they've settled, and he knows this may be infuriatingly slow for her, but he can't help but enjoy dragging it out, listening to the hitch of her breath.
It's the work of the moment to guide himself to her entrance, though. He pushes inside and works his way deeper in small thrusts as he might do for one of his toys, timing it to her breaths.
His eyes are on hers the whole time, gauging for any signs of distress beyond some sexual frustration.]
How long do you imagine I might draw you out? How many times might you last? [His voice is low, playful once more.] My condition has cursed me with a stamina few men can claim.
[She's absolutely certain that's true-- just as she's equally certain he could leave her whining and whimpering before the end, overstimulated and out of her mind with heated pleasure. But far be it for her to ever back down from a challenge, even a playful one. Rosalind tips her head back. Her eyes are hazy with arousal, her cunt slick and tight around him (and oh, god, but he'd felt so good pushing into her, just a touch shy of too much, his cock heavy and hard and perfect)-- but she isn't so addled she can't play with him.]
You've answered your own question.
[She reaches for him, her hips rocking up pointedly as she pulls him down for a kiss. He feels so good in her, thick enough to leave her aching, throbbing around him even as she grows used to the delicious feeling of being filled. One leg lifts, hooking around his hip, as she squirms just a little impatiently.]
Perhaps you'll make me finish more than once. But if you're asking when I'll beg you to stop . . . [She nips sharply at his bottom lip, a swift action, there and done.] I'll last longer than you, Jonathan. I can promise you that.
[The nip draws a sharp gasp, and Jonathan grips her hips. He pulls out and thrusts deep, setting up a rhythm of long, slow thrusts that the doctor knows he can sustain for a time. He's intrigued by her offer, but one matter to address first.]
Be careful how hard you bite. A few drops of my blood are enough to turn you, and I've no interest in progeny to mind here.
[It's a bit harsher than the earlier playfulness. This, particularly, he means.]
But what is this, mm... prize you have in mind? If I'm to strive for something, I should like to know it's well worth the effort.
[Is that why he won't turn her? It seems the least reason, but fascinating that that's the reason he picks. She makes a note of it and stores that away for later, for the moment taking heed of the warning at face value. No, she won't be turned (or at least: not while she's getting fucked).
His rhythm is enough to occupy her mind, god knows, and with a deep sense of satisfaction she lets herself focus on nothing but the present. Each thrust is all the harder for how slow he is about it, and Rosalind hoists her legs up higher, rocking her hips up against him just to feel him inch in all the deeper. She's flushed, arousal making her eyes hazy and her body tremble, but she isn't lost just yet.]
T-then pick something you want.
[Her fingers curl, nails digging into her palm as she fights not to moan just yet. It's a generous offer, made with the secure knowledge he'll change it in an instant if it's something she finds disagreeable.
Besides: there's something thrilling about not always having control.]
I want-- ah-- I want you to obey. Just for one night.
[Because she thinks it would be rather fun to see how worked up he might get if he was denied his finish a few times over.]
[It's one among several reasons, but one of the ones that comes most immediately to mind. He'd rather not discuss murdering his sister multiple times over. That really tends to have a detrimental effect on his mood.
The pads of his thumbs rub against her skin as Jonathan considers this wager. He's confident he can hold out longer than her and get her to the point of exhausted begging. But does he want to risk it?]
One night. [He agrees. And one night only. Jonathan doesn't imagine she'll ask him to do anything completely outrageous. But knowing her... what would tantalize her into losing for the sake of it? His lips curl into a wicked smile as an idea starts to form in his mind, something that will appeal to her proclivities and his preference for using toys, in general.]
If I win, we shall take a walk around one of the gardens in the Up. And while we are strolling, you will wear, hidden, whatever I would like you to wear. How might you handle some toy buzzing away inside of you while we walk, Rosalind? Would you make it two blocks without begging me to be kinder?
[He knows her far too well by now, she realizes. Far, far too well, because that most certainly does appeal to her, hideously so, so much so that Rosalind has to stifle a moan just at the thought. She throbs around him, her cunt tightening eagerly as a flush comes to her cheeks-- and he'd been right, there is a sudden desire to lose. It has to fight against her naturally competitive nature-- but oh, wouldn't it be something? He has such a streak of sadism hidden beneath that gentlemanly veneer he wears, and she's never more attracted to him than when she sees hints of it.
She takes in a shaky breath, buying herself an extra moment; only once she feels she can respond without making a fool of herself does she jerk her head in a nod.]
Have I ever once begged you for anything?
[She's only used a vibrator once, but does that matter? Anyway, this is all if she loses (but she does so want to lose, damn him, she sort of hates him for being so clever). Her mouth curls, and she surges up, meeting him in another hungry kiss. Against his mouth, then:]
Do your worst, Jonathan Reid, both then and now. I'm hardly the mewling little girls you're used to at home.
[The throb and pulse of her body is intense and for a moment, his vision tinges to red. There is blood racing through her veins, filling her up. That extra moment for her is one for him, as well, as he struggles to control his own urges. His thrusts intensify as he tries to focus his energy on that feeling of her engulfing him. He doesn't need to taste her. He's human and he doesn't need to taste her.
But it's so hard when she attacks his lips. She speaks of things she doesn't know, and it's a struggle to pull back instead of dropping his head to her neck. One of his hands moves to that beautiful neck, and Jonathan covers it, squeezing lightly. It's as much to titillate her as it is to block himself from indulging.]
And what girls do you imagine I had... at home, Rosalind? I would not, mm... keep the company of such women. No longer than might be necessary for decorum. [The sound of flesh slapping against flesh grows louder.] They do not interest me. You do.
[Her breath catches, both in arousal and because of the light pressure he exerts, and she tips her head back, her mouth dropping open. She's slick now, dripping over his cock, and yet she still doesn't reach down to touch herself, too intent on winning and making this last. Her expression is growing hazier, her eyes struggling to stay open as he fucks into her, that steady pace that makes her want to scream for how fantastically-awful it is all at once.]
H-harder--
[It's a demand, not a plea, as her hips surge upwards, rocking against his urgently. But what he says is utterly entrancing, and she tightens around him again, her body struggling to surge upwards, straining against his grip just to see if he'll double down on it.]
[He does double-down, pinning her by the neck as he drives into her. Jonathan is fighting hard not to bite her, and the violence the creature inside him demands will have to be satisfied with this.]
You're so very vain.
[Jonathan is able to hold out for his own orgasm past her first one. He keeps going for as long as he can, and when he stiffens, crying out, himself, the doctor replaces his cock with carefully-placed fingers. He doesn't dare dip his claws inside of her when she's prone to thrusting against him, but it only lasts as long as it takes him to recover and put himself to use once more. And it does feel like use. This isn't quite the gentle, romantic moment he'd been envisioning.
Which is... good. Jonathan decides that's very good. It's maybe less of a betrayal to Elisabeth if he isn't madly in love with the woman he's lying with. Not that he imagined willing sex would change much between himself Rosalind--he's not quite that romantic--but it feels as though it's not going to change the general nature of their relationship, either.
After her third orgasm and his second, Jonathan pushes one of her legs up high and moves to roll Rosalind onto her stomach for just a little variety.]
How are you... feeling, then? Is this enough? Only say the word.
She hates losing, but it's just too much. He's too much, damn him, and this wasn't what she had in mind when they'd first gone to bed, but she can't say she regrets it. She stares up at him hazily, her eyes full of lust and affection both. There's bruises on her fair skin, light but unmistakable; her breasts are sore, nipples reddened and swollen from his teeth and his fingers both. She looks a wreck right now, sh knows, and she can't even bring herself to care.
There's no fight as he rolls her over; she lets him manipulate her as he'd like, whining softly as he lifts her leg up and spreads her open. She knows she makes a sight: her cunt reddened, arousal and come spilling out of her in a rush as he pulls his cock out. Even worse that it's all her own, a fact he'd teased her over after the second (third?) orgasm.
They're pausing now, but she knows he won't relent if she doesn't give in. He'll shove his cock right back into her, spread her open and fuck her, truly fuck her, yanking her back onto his cock as he slams his hips forward, leave her screaming and writhing as he tips her over into her fourth orgasm of the night. And that's just if he decides to fuck her, never mind actually touch her-- she winces, actually recoiling at the thought of his fingers on her clit again. She can't, she can't, she's so sore, so thoroughly used and worn out, trembling from overstimulation and giddy pleasure, and yet even now there's a part of her that bites back an answer because she can't stand to lose.
She swallows thickly, her fingers curling and uncurling in the sheets. Emotions war in her expression, and her mouth trembles, not with the threat of tears, but with genuine reluctance to ever give in.]
Is-- nn-- is it enough for you?
[It's a last-ditch effort that she knows is doomed to fail, but at least it can't be said she didn't go down without a fight.]
He'd forgotten about slicing her open. The small wounds are scabbed over, but there are faint traces of it dried and smeared across her back. The doctor pauses for a long moment, then finally slides in once more. His stamina, as he said, is rather excessive. Satisfied as he is, he can keep going.
But he licks his lips first, and leans down over her.]
It is a strange thing to fight so hard when you will have a thing you want, either way. I can have you until the dawn begins to break. But I would rather not leave you in pain.
[He dips his head down and laps at her cuts as he slowly thrusts into her once more, giving her a little more room to think about it. Consider how much she might like to lose. He can make it sweet for her.]
[She moans as he pushes into her, merciless and just a little sadistic both. His words only underscore it (and god, but if there isn't a rush of arousal at the words I can have you until the dawn begins to break, god). But though she finds herself ready to submit, something else gets her attention first.
His tongue slides over her. Not salaciously, but hungrily, and all at once she remembers he'd cut up her back. With surprising strength she surges up, catching his shoulder in her palm and shoving him back. His cock is still in her, thick and hot, and that's impossible to ignore, but she tries anyway.]
Don't-- don't--
We said no blood.
[Perhaps he doesn't care anymore, but she does. And maybe this isn't making love anymore, but that doesn't mean they have to remove all emotions from it.]
[Jonathan blinks at her, more surprised than anything else. Shame washes over him. He hadn't really been thinking about it, and a part of him just wants to pull away entirely, but his own desire to win against her is a powerful thing.]
Thank you.
[She'd stopped him, which he is grateful for, but it's still a measure of his weakness that he needed her to do it. Jonathan places his hands on either side of her waist and just focuses on thrusting, pushing her and himself toward the end of a final round.]
[Fuck, she'd been so bloody worried about the stupid blood she'd half forgotten-- Rosalind tenses up, her expression shifting, going from concerned to overwhelmed all in half a second.]
Fuck-- bloody hell, Jonathan, I submit, for god's sake, I give in, you win, stop fucking me--
[He pulls out immediately and rolls to the side so that he's sitting on the bed. Later, he'll consider that response is likely rude, but this has become less pleasurable and more a task at this point. The doctor does have the kindness in him to lay a hand on her thigh, though. For whatever that is worth.]
[She scoffs at his response. She might feel insulted on other nights, but honestly, she's too worn out to care. Slumping down (on her back, because there's no sense in tempting him with blood), she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, tries to take stock of herself.
Good god.
Everything aches. Everything aches, he's absolutely bruised her all over, her thighs, her cunt, her ass, his fingers and his mouth and the sheer repetition of his hips snapping forward and slamming into her. She's still dripping with arousal and come, sweat making her skin light up. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, and she groans as she lets her legs stretch out, settling for the first time in god knows how long.
Ah . . . but perhaps some touches aren't so bad, she thinks, and turns towards him, pleased at his sweetness.]
[Jonathan's cock is still hard, but he's only a little sore, himself, and doesn't pay it much attention as he rises up. The benefits of an Ekon's physiology.]
It would, perhaps, be unwise for me to stay the whole night and day unless you have a place that sunlight will not reach. But I can stay a few more hours, if you'd like. There are still some of the finer points of your pill replication that I should like to examine.
[His mind turns back toward the original purpose of his coming here as he steps into the bathroom and dampens a washcloth to bring out to her. Jonathan leans over Rosalind and wipes her brow and cheeks before pressing it into her hand to go and fetch a bowl along with a cup for her to drink from.]
[But all right. That's probably easier, honestly; as much as she misses having a man in her bed, god knows they're not the best at getting along, and she'd hate to spoil things.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-09 05:38 pm (UTC)From:Jonathan lets her go and leans back so that he sit a little more easily and wrangle her undergarments off followed by his own. When they're both done, he lifts one of her legs and places it onto his shoulder, followed by the other. There's a press of his lips to each once they've settled, and he knows this may be infuriatingly slow for her, but he can't help but enjoy dragging it out, listening to the hitch of her breath.
It's the work of the moment to guide himself to her entrance, though. He pushes inside and works his way deeper in small thrusts as he might do for one of his toys, timing it to her breaths.
His eyes are on hers the whole time, gauging for any signs of distress beyond some sexual frustration.]
How long do you imagine I might draw you out? How many times might you last? [His voice is low, playful once more.] My condition has cursed me with a stamina few men can claim.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-09 10:01 pm (UTC)From:You've answered your own question.
[She reaches for him, her hips rocking up pointedly as she pulls him down for a kiss. He feels so good in her, thick enough to leave her aching, throbbing around him even as she grows used to the delicious feeling of being filled. One leg lifts, hooking around his hip, as she squirms just a little impatiently.]
Perhaps you'll make me finish more than once. But if you're asking when I'll beg you to stop . . . [She nips sharply at his bottom lip, a swift action, there and done.] I'll last longer than you, Jonathan. I can promise you that.
[a beat, and then:]
And if I can't? I'll even give you a prize.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-10 10:05 pm (UTC)From:Be careful how hard you bite. A few drops of my blood are enough to turn you, and I've no interest in progeny to mind here.
[It's a bit harsher than the earlier playfulness. This, particularly, he means.]
But what is this, mm... prize you have in mind? If I'm to strive for something, I should like to know it's well worth the effort.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-10 10:16 pm (UTC)From:His rhythm is enough to occupy her mind, god knows, and with a deep sense of satisfaction she lets herself focus on nothing but the present. Each thrust is all the harder for how slow he is about it, and Rosalind hoists her legs up higher, rocking her hips up against him just to feel him inch in all the deeper. She's flushed, arousal making her eyes hazy and her body tremble, but she isn't lost just yet.]
T-then pick something you want.
[Her fingers curl, nails digging into her palm as she fights not to moan just yet. It's a generous offer, made with the secure knowledge he'll change it in an instant if it's something she finds disagreeable.
Besides: there's something thrilling about not always having control.]
I want-- ah-- I want you to obey. Just for one night.
[Because she thinks it would be rather fun to see how worked up he might get if he was denied his finish a few times over.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 03:07 am (UTC)From:The pads of his thumbs rub against her skin as Jonathan considers this wager. He's confident he can hold out longer than her and get her to the point of exhausted begging. But does he want to risk it?]
One night. [He agrees. And one night only. Jonathan doesn't imagine she'll ask him to do anything completely outrageous. But knowing her... what would tantalize her into losing for the sake of it? His lips curl into a wicked smile as an idea starts to form in his mind, something that will appeal to her proclivities and his preference for using toys, in general.]
If I win, we shall take a walk around one of the gardens in the Up. And while we are strolling, you will wear, hidden, whatever I would like you to wear. How might you handle some toy buzzing away inside of you while we walk, Rosalind? Would you make it two blocks without begging me to be kinder?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 03:23 am (UTC)From:She takes in a shaky breath, buying herself an extra moment; only once she feels she can respond without making a fool of herself does she jerk her head in a nod.]
Have I ever once begged you for anything?
[She's only used a vibrator once, but does that matter? Anyway, this is all if she loses (but she does so want to lose, damn him, she sort of hates him for being so clever). Her mouth curls, and she surges up, meeting him in another hungry kiss. Against his mouth, then:]
Do your worst, Jonathan Reid, both then and now. I'm hardly the mewling little girls you're used to at home.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-15 04:24 am (UTC)From:But it's so hard when she attacks his lips. She speaks of things she doesn't know, and it's a struggle to pull back instead of dropping his head to her neck. One of his hands moves to that beautiful neck, and Jonathan covers it, squeezing lightly. It's as much to titillate her as it is to block himself from indulging.]
And what girls do you imagine I had... at home, Rosalind? I would not, mm... keep the company of such women. No longer than might be necessary for decorum. [The sound of flesh slapping against flesh grows louder.] They do not interest me. You do.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-15 04:40 am (UTC)From:H-harder--
[It's a demand, not a plea, as her hips surge upwards, rocking against his urgently. But what he says is utterly entrancing, and she tightens around him again, her body struggling to surge upwards, straining against his grip just to see if he'll double down on it.]
Show me. S-show me how much I interest you--
timeskipping!
Date: 2019-02-16 06:42 am (UTC)From:You're so very vain.
[Jonathan is able to hold out for his own orgasm past her first one. He keeps going for as long as he can, and when he stiffens, crying out, himself, the doctor replaces his cock with carefully-placed fingers. He doesn't dare dip his claws inside of her when she's prone to thrusting against him, but it only lasts as long as it takes him to recover and put himself to use once more. And it does feel like use. This isn't quite the gentle, romantic moment he'd been envisioning.
Which is... good. Jonathan decides that's very good. It's maybe less of a betrayal to Elisabeth if he isn't madly in love with the woman he's lying with. Not that he imagined willing sex would change much between himself Rosalind--he's not quite that romantic--but it feels as though it's not going to change the general nature of their relationship, either.
After her third orgasm and his second, Jonathan pushes one of her legs up high and moves to roll Rosalind onto her stomach for just a little variety.]
How are you... feeling, then? Is this enough? Only say the word.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-16 09:39 am (UTC)From:She hates losing, but it's just too much. He's too much, damn him, and this wasn't what she had in mind when they'd first gone to bed, but she can't say she regrets it. She stares up at him hazily, her eyes full of lust and affection both. There's bruises on her fair skin, light but unmistakable; her breasts are sore, nipples reddened and swollen from his teeth and his fingers both. She looks a wreck right now, sh knows, and she can't even bring herself to care.
There's no fight as he rolls her over; she lets him manipulate her as he'd like, whining softly as he lifts her leg up and spreads her open. She knows she makes a sight: her cunt reddened, arousal and come spilling out of her in a rush as he pulls his cock out. Even worse that it's all her own, a fact he'd teased her over after the second (third?) orgasm.
They're pausing now, but she knows he won't relent if she doesn't give in. He'll shove his cock right back into her, spread her open and fuck her, truly fuck her, yanking her back onto his cock as he slams his hips forward, leave her screaming and writhing as he tips her over into her fourth orgasm of the night. And that's just if he decides to fuck her, never mind actually touch her-- she winces, actually recoiling at the thought of his fingers on her clit again. She can't, she can't, she's so sore, so thoroughly used and worn out, trembling from overstimulation and giddy pleasure, and yet even now there's a part of her that bites back an answer because she can't stand to lose.
She swallows thickly, her fingers curling and uncurling in the sheets. Emotions war in her expression, and her mouth trembles, not with the threat of tears, but with genuine reluctance to ever give in.]
Is-- nn-- is it enough for you?
[It's a last-ditch effort that she knows is doomed to fail, but at least it can't be said she didn't go down without a fight.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-16 07:38 pm (UTC)From:Blood.
He'd forgotten about slicing her open. The small wounds are scabbed over, but there are faint traces of it dried and smeared across her back. The doctor pauses for a long moment, then finally slides in once more. His stamina, as he said, is rather excessive. Satisfied as he is, he can keep going.
But he licks his lips first, and leans down over her.]
It is a strange thing to fight so hard when you will have a thing you want, either way. I can have you until the dawn begins to break. But I would rather not leave you in pain.
[He dips his head down and laps at her cuts as he slowly thrusts into her once more, giving her a little more room to think about it. Consider how much she might like to lose. He can make it sweet for her.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-16 08:04 pm (UTC)From:His tongue slides over her. Not salaciously, but hungrily, and all at once she remembers he'd cut up her back. With surprising strength she surges up, catching his shoulder in her palm and shoving him back. His cock is still in her, thick and hot, and that's impossible to ignore, but she tries anyway.]
Don't-- don't--
We said no blood.
[Perhaps he doesn't care anymore, but she does. And maybe this isn't making love anymore, but that doesn't mean they have to remove all emotions from it.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 06:56 pm (UTC)From:Thank you.
[She'd stopped him, which he is grateful for, but it's still a measure of his weakness that he needed her to do it. Jonathan places his hands on either side of her waist and just focuses on thrusting, pushing her and himself toward the end of a final round.]
No blood.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 09:37 pm (UTC)From:[Fuck, she'd been so bloody worried about the stupid blood she'd half forgotten-- Rosalind tenses up, her expression shifting, going from concerned to overwhelmed all in half a second.]
Fuck-- bloody hell, Jonathan, I submit, for god's sake, I give in, you win, stop fucking me--
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 09:43 pm (UTC)From:[He pulls out immediately and rolls to the side so that he's sitting on the bed. Later, he'll consider that response is likely rude, but this has become less pleasurable and more a task at this point. The doctor does have the kindness in him to lay a hand on her thigh, though. For whatever that is worth.]
Shall I fetch some water for you?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 09:48 pm (UTC)From:Good god.
Everything aches. Everything aches, he's absolutely bruised her all over, her thighs, her cunt, her ass, his fingers and his mouth and the sheer repetition of his hips snapping forward and slamming into her. She's still dripping with arousal and come, sweat making her skin light up. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, and she groans as she lets her legs stretch out, settling for the first time in god knows how long.
Ah . . . but perhaps some touches aren't so bad, she thinks, and turns towards him, pleased at his sweetness.]
Nn. Yes, please. And a washcloth.
[She opens her eyes a little, staring at him.]
Are you staying?
[She wouldn't mind.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 09:56 pm (UTC)From:It would, perhaps, be unwise for me to stay the whole night and day unless you have a place that sunlight will not reach. But I can stay a few more hours, if you'd like. There are still some of the finer points of your pill replication that I should like to examine.
[His mind turns back toward the original purpose of his coming here as he steps into the bathroom and dampens a washcloth to bring out to her. Jonathan leans over Rosalind and wipes her brow and cheeks before pressing it into her hand to go and fetch a bowl along with a cup for her to drink from.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-17 10:02 pm (UTC)From:[But all right. That's probably easier, honestly; as much as she misses having a man in her bed, god knows they're not the best at getting along, and she'd hate to spoil things.
This is enough. This is more than enough.]