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A Rough Fuck

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Teeth. Hair. Nails. They'd all been a part of Lyrica’s night.

 

Calloused fingers. Tanned calloused fingers trailing, gripping, digging into dark almond skin. Nails, on both sides, clawing at each other, pain only adding to their pleasure. Emotions? Not here. Only carnal wanting, maybe even hating.

 

Lyrica lets out a growl mixed with a pained moan as Jace pulls her head back roughly, his many ringed fingers tightly knotted into her kinked curls. He lets out a hoarse laugh as his hips keep meeting hers roughly, the six piercings running along along the underside of his dick making her sore but also making her body want so much more. He stacked pillows under her hips and shoulders in a specific way, so he could hit the best areas inside of her with how he can move his hips. Snarling, she digs one of her feet’s heels into his lower back while arching her hips. He slows when she does, a devilish grin curling his thin lips. He leans over, the muscles bulging under the tanned skin of his supporting arm, his lips peeling back to reveal overly white teeth.

 

Then, he goes to kiss her, feigning a soft but tongue-filled kiss, exploring her mouth, before biting her lip hard enough she tastes blood and feels the fragile light plum skin rip. She spits it in his face angrily, cursing with a loud “Fuck!” He removes the hand from her hair to wipe off the red painting his far too handsome features, before pulling out of her and quickly rolling her onto her stomach. He enters again, roughly, giving her no warning. His hand reknots into her hair, pulling her head back in a hard tug-of-war, using his now free one to render a resounding whap to her ass. She can tell the skin will bruise, but the pain makes everything feel better as her fingers harshly grip into the pillows, her mouth expelling loud cries and grunts, sometimes mixing with moans both pleasurable and pained.

 

“Yes, God, please!” She cries when his free hand begins to tease her clit, going in both too hard and too soft strokes, grinding himself as he enters. The slapping of their skin keeps her mind occupied, mixing with the sounds of his grunting and pants and her body’s overly heated an overloaded senses, until she feels his mind at the edge of hers. She tries to block him out, but he's clever, forcing through where he can and sneaking where he can't brute force, and using the way their bodies connect to keep her from focusing to hard. Then, they're mentally connected, broadcasting their pleasure back and forth, and she sees what he does and what he's planning to do…

 

She feels the coil in her stomach knotting, getting so close to spreading through her body a type of heat that'd leave her pleased and warm and unable to move for a time, but he starts slowing down before her knot can unwind itself, teasing her needy body by no more than grinding his hips against her ass. “Stop fucking playing, you ass!” His laughter insults her ears, and suddenly his mouth is at her ear, soft lips a lie of what his mouth can really do.

 

“What're you going to do if I don't? You're at my mercy right now, Lyrica .” His voice takes a melodic tone with her name, and she can't hide the shivers that run over her cooling, sweaty body as his licks the shell of her ear. When he leans back, he pulls her up so hard the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her face is his hand in her hair. His hips start again, rolling as he enters her, and she yells when she feels his teeth sink into her shoulder, likely drawing more blood, marking her. This new, bright pain, along with him hitting the right spot inside sends her over the edge, her body spasming and her legs flailing as her mouth lets out high-pitched whimpers and mewls. It's like he can sense when it becomes too intense, likely through their minds being connected, and he releases her hair, letting her fall forward. She huffs into the pillows as he pulls out, another laugh echoing from him.

 

It takes her a few minutes to be able to move, but when she does she grimaces at the soreness beginning to settle into her lower and upper body. When she sits up and looks over, Jace is running a ringed hand over his engorged shaft, grunting as an edge hits the sensitive area under his head’s ridge, not focusing on her until she crawls forward, and finally brown eyes meet hazel green. That cocky, smug grin spreads over his lips again, and it takes all her willpower not to beat the living shit out of him. He leans into her face, his eyes looking at her split lip, before looking back up to her eyes, a dark brow rising over one. “You wanna help? Or are you too tired to suck dick?” He looks over her, from her angrily swollen nipples down to her aching thighs, then drags back to her eyes, a challenging look in his eyes.

 

“Move your fucking hands, Paris . I'll show you someone too tired.”