They get back to the loft, and they fall on each other, adrenaline pushing Braeden to ride Derek's thigh, to push her hand between his legs. They grind against each other hard and hot, and she comes fast and easy, and he does too.
"First time I ever did that," he mumbles into her hair.
"Came in your pants?" He nods his head against hers and she snorts. "You ever shower with someone?" she says. She pushes up off of him and pulls her jeans and panties out of her crotch. They're already uncomfortable and will just get worse if she doesn't change.
He shrugs at her, bumps her a little with his shoulder, and leads the way to his shower. She's not mad at that. He looks incredible from behind, and, also, they're pretty disgusting, with blood and ashes and bits of monsters' skin all over.
The shower is really big, so they're not forced up on each other, but she presses close to him anyway. She grabs the soap first, lathers it up, and runs her hands down his sides.
He rumbles deep in his chest, and she can feel it, can feel him relax into her hands. "Get my hair," she tells him.
He does, rubs shampoo gently through her hair, then massages her scalp firmly. She surprises herself by hissing just a little.
"Good noise?" he asks, but he's already let up the pressure on her scalp.
"Good noise," she says, and he's mostly between her and the showerhead, so she looks up at him and smiles. He bends down and kisses her, and she lets him for a second, but she pulls back and says, "I want to clean up first."
She runs her soapy hands over his arms and legs while he washes her breasts and belly. They wash their own faces, and he gets his own hair. It doesn't take long for them to finish washing, run towels over each other, crawl naked into his bed.
She kisses him, licks her tongue over his, gnaws a little at his lower lip. He sinks under her for a minute, leaves his mouth open and soft while she tastes him thoroughly. Then he licks the side of her neck, scrapes his teeth just under her ear. She shivers from how good it feels, the sensation and knowing that he remembers what she liked from earlier.
She scrapes her fingers down the back of his neck, down his spine, and he arches his back up, makes the whiny, creaky noise that means he's really into it. She does it again, to feel the smoothness of his skin, baby soft all over, and the density of his muscles, bigger and stronger than hers, like any man's, but newly susceptible to her knives and guns.
He scoots down on the bed until he's half-lying on her, his mouth at her breast, and sucks her right nipple, hard like she likes. "That's good," she says softly, into the soft, damp hair on the top of his head.
"Yeah?" he says, voice muffled around her breast.
She doesn't answer back, just puts her hand to the back of his head and applies a little pressure. She rubs her other hand on his shoulder, rubs her calluses over skin that has no scars, just a dusting of fine, scratchy hairs.
She's getting worked up again. Well, she never really chilled out, from the firefight to the axefight, speeding across town, then running up to the loft and fucking against the door as soon as they leaped out of Derek's car. But she can feel the heat and the weight gathering in her pussy, her heart rate and her breathing have picked up again. "Can I finger you?" she asks.
"What?" he says. Derek pulls back to look at her, tiny frown on his face.
Did he not hear her or does he not want it? Well, she does, so she'll ask again. "I want to finger your ass. Until you come, if you can come that way. And then you can eat me out. And then, if you haven't already come, we'll get you off." She scratches her fingers along his spine again, but just at the top of his shoulders, lightly and faster than before.
He looks thoughtful but doesn't say anything. His expression doesn't change, not his breathing or the tension in his body.
The silence and the looking goes on longer than she can really stand. "You can say, 'Never,' or, 'Not now,' or 'Ask me again later,'" she says. She wants to finger him, but she's fine with doing something else. She doesn't want to lie around staring at him thinking. Not when they could be fucking.
He pushes up to her mouth and kisses her, and she can taste the sweet and the spicy from the Thai they had before those kids called them out to clean up their mess. She's got his lower lip between her teeth and is sucking a little bit when he says something into her mouth that she can't really make out. He pulls back and repeats, "Okay."
"Okay?" She was hoping for a little more enthusiasm. At least some genuine curiousity.
He shrugs, nods, and slides off of her, until he's fully supported on the bed, face down. "Seems like a good night for things I've never done before." He looks back over his shoulder at her, smirking just a little. "Is this the way you want me?"
She snorts at him, reassured that he's really game. "Get up on your knees, spread 'em shoulder width apart. You decide if you want to be up on your hands, your elbows, or face down. Get a pillow under your hips in case your knees give out." She pats his ass, feels the muscles flexing under her palm as he gets up on his knees and elbows.
She leaves the bed just long enough to get gloves from the first aid kit and the lube from the box under his bed, but she gets back on the bed right behind him. She drops both beside her, but she starts touching him with her bare hands. She drags her nails down his spine again, and he arches into it, but he's quiet now. She gets her hands on his ass, and she pushes into the muscle, digs into it, feels the strength of his legs, the faint itch of the hair on his butt under her fingers. "Are we still good?"
"You haven't done anything yet," he says, and he sounds a little...cranky.
"I like to take my time." She kisses him, a peck on his right ass cheek and then his left. She runs her thumbs between his cheeks, not really pulling yet, just feeling him out a little, making sure he's not going to flinch or kick. His legs are rocksteady, but she can feel his asshole twitching under her fingers. "How's that feel?"
"Keep going," he says.
She doesn't know what that means, if he's twitching because he's excited or if he's powering through his fear. She wants this to be good for him, wants them both to have a good time, wants him to be willing to do this again. She leans down between his legs and kisses his sac, brings her right hand between his legs and strokes his cock. He's soft, but he just came half an hour ago. She keeps stroking, careful not to let herself get carried away and squeeze too hard. She nuzzles into him, where he's hairy and still a little damp from the shower. His balls are totally loose in his sac and she reaches out with her tongue, tastes him, pokes him with the point of her tongue.
He pulls away from her then, shies to the right and down. "Stop."
She sits back, hands up. "I—."
"No. The buildup is…not what I want. Just keep going." His voice is a little tight, but she can't tell how badly she's screwed up.
She puts one hand on his thigh, rubs firmly up over his ass to his back and back down, a few times. "Can you turn over? I want to see you to do this."
She can feel him thinking under her hands, but after a moment, he turns over. His eyes are calm and soft; his mouth looks easy. "Okay?" she asks. He nods.
She rearranges the both of them, with her legs stretched out to either side of his ass and his legs spread open and resting on her thighs. Puts on the glove, slicks the glove fingers with lube, enough that it's dripping off her middle and index fingers. "It's cold," she says, and immediately follows up by rubbing two fingers over his asshole and leaning back. He bucks, just as she expected. But she keeps rubbing and he relaxes, first his thighs, then his ass unclenches.
She presses harder, tugs at the folds and wrinkles of the muscle, holds tiny bits of him smooth and pink between her fingers. He sighs, big and showy, impatient. She looks at him and he rolls his eyes, crosses his arms over his chest.
She laughs and smacks a kiss at him and pushes her index finger in his ass. He gasps, and that's a real noise of surprise. She smirks at him, because he was the one pushing her to hurry up. He should have known she'd take him up on that challenge.
He's hot on the inside, tight on her finger, and she pulls at his rim, tugs on the muscles squeezing her back. She bites her lip, sucks it between her teeth. She knows herself well enough to know she's going to start drooling otherwise, because she likes working his insides this way so much.
He looks good like this, his legs spread wide and furry balls hanging down just above her hand, his hole so, so wet where her finger slides into him gently. She looks up at his dick, and he's maybe half-hard, cock a straight line on his stomach but not as big as she knows it gets. She looks at his face. His eyes are closed, mouth open with his tongue sticking out just a little bit. His left arm is out to one side, twitching. His right hand is on his chest, rubbing his nipple with his palm, fingers arched up and back away from his skin.
She drags her finger out of him, slowly, rubs his hole again, watches it close up, too fast, the shiny pink pulling away and hidden by his hairy, white skin. "You ready for another?"
"Yes," he says, drawing his agreement out real low and slow. He slits his eyes open at her and licks his lips. "Come on," he says, and lifts his ass, pushes back against her fingers, where she's rubbing on him.
She works two fingers in him, just up to the second knuckle. She twists inside him and rubs her thumb around him on the inside. Back and forth and back and forth, she sweeps her shiny, purple gloved fingers in and around his ass. She hums to herself as his thighs start to twitch over hers. She doesn't say, "Dance for me!" but she thinks it.
"Braeden," he moans, and she looks at him again. His eyes are open, looking at her face. He's panting and moaning and shaking a little bit. His right hand is still rubbing his chest, harder and faster now, and his left hand on his belly, rubbing the palm of his hand on his cock. She reaches up with her free hand to touch it, and he's swollen and warm, but not hot, not hard. She lets the hand inside him go still.
"Do you need to stop?" He shakes his head, very fast, very quickly, but there's something about the way he's holding his shoulders tight she doesn't really like. "Do you want to stop? Does it not feel good?"
"No. I mean, yes. I just—I need…." He blinks, shakes his head again. Then he turns his hand up and laces their fingers together, urges her forward as he curls up with his abs and then they're kissing and they're kissing and they're kissing and they're kissing and it's beautiful and sweet and precious and everything: kissing this beautiful boy with her fingers inside of him.
He relaxes, falls backward slowly, and she goes with him, and her fingers slip out of him, but it's okay. It's okay, she's had enough, held him where she wanted him. They stay kissing, her left hand holding his tight, her right hand propping her up a little so she's not resting all of her weight on him, and their connection stays tight, stays focused on each other. She's breathing him in, and the soap and the shampoo smells have faded away, just left the raw, natural smell of him, and she likes it.
And she likes it when his mouth starts to wander, little kisses along her jaw, under her ear, down her throat. He lets her hand go, and she curls it in his hair, and she's not at all surprised when he flips them over. She lets go of him long enough to strip off the glove, shakes out the sweaty dampness, and tosses it in the general direction of the nearest trash can. Then she's got both hands on his shoulders while he sucks her tits so hard, so good. She can't breathe. (She can breathe, she's just breathing so hard, so fast.) She's bucking up against him and going nowhere, he's covering her, shielding her from anything, from nothing. She can feel his hairy chest scratching against her thighs, spread wide enough around his chest that she can feel the stretch, farther apart than the giant vibrator she calls a bike ever pushes her.
And then he goes lower, face all up in her cunt, lips and tongue and nose everywhere, all over her, and he's got one finger inside her, and then two, and then he tugs on her g-spot with three fingers and she comes all over the both of them, gushing like a garden hose, crying and whining and pushing her ass up towards where he was touching her just seconds ago.
She breathes deep once, twice, three times, trying to bring her breathing back under control. She opens her eyes and laughs because Derek looks like a drowned rat. She got his hair and his beard and his chest and his everything. "Oh shit, did I get you in the eyes?" She stands up, kisses his forehead, and goes and gets a towel. "Sorry about that." She drops the towel on his head and lets him sort himself out.
He dries his hair and his forehead and his eyes, but he just licks his lips, dabs at his nose, leaves the rest alone. Nobody's done that before, let her mark them up with it. It kind of turns her on, just a little. "New thing four," he says and smiles at her slooooow and sexy.
She can't help herself, she laughs back at him, a series of low, halting chuckles that are just about enjoying that she's gotten and kept the attention of a man she really wants to keep around for a minute. "You liked it?" She climbs on his lap, feels his dick, very, very hard now and pressing against her pussy. "I liked that a lot." She kisses him, licks at his cheeks and tastes herself on him. She likes it.
He grabs her hips and pulls them tighter together, bounces her a little on his lap. "You still up for round three?" he asks.
"Uh huh," she says and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, grabs at him with her nails digging in. He's horny enough to like it if she draws blood now.
He rolls forward until she's on her back and he can reach over her and under the bed, grab a condom. "You want to come again?"
She grabs the condom from him, wraps him up herself. "No, I'm good," she says. It's too much work trying to come from a cock inside her, and she's definitely gotten hers tonight. "Come on, come on in."
He slips inside her nice and easy as anything, she's wet and open and relaxed. She's got just enough energy to wrap her legs around him and roll her hips a little, but the window has passed on anything athletic. He ruts inside her, nice and easy, and she rubs her face against his, his beard matted and sticky and not bristly at all, the way it sometimes is right after he's trimmed it. He picks up the pace a little and she can't keep up, only meets him on every other thrust, like it's the end of a night out and she's stopped moving to the beat. "We should go clubbing," she says, right in his ear, and he pauses for just a second. She smacks his ass, means it to just be a rebuke for messing with the rhythm, but he bucks forward once, twice and buries his face in her neck and comes.
She lets go of him with her legs and slides out from him just a little, because he does outweigh her by at least fifty pounds. But she keeps one hand on his back, rubs a circle right over his tattoo. Tries to rub it anyway, but now she's tired and she's very slow.
He turns his head on the pillow to look at her and she looks back at him. In just a minute she's going to ask if he wants to get up and get another shower. Just as soon as she can open her eyes again, she's going to ask. But then she feels Derek pull her over and spoon her, so apparently they're going to sleep just like this. It's gross but it's also great.