have_no_mercy | Watchtower

'I'm already dead. You can try and kill me along with everyone else, but I don't like your chances.'

And not just because he's already dead. No matter; he looks amused at that noise, and crooks his fingers forward as he rubs inside her.

'It appears your mental exhaustion and concerns about not being into this have gone away.'

He is made of surprise.

"I never said I doubted... oh, God."

Give her a few moments here.

"You could do this."

In fact, she was certain he could. But she is in a much better mood now, thank you very much.

Jim bites his bottom lip and watches her face. This look suits her, and it's all the better because he knows not many men get to see it.

Then he's reminded that Eric gets to see it, which is annoying, but he's not about to let it ruin a good time. He doesn't press harder seeing as she obviously likes what he's doing already, but does push the heel of his hand over her clit as he unzips his flies.

'Sort the condom out for me me, would you? It's in my pocket.'

If she can.

'I don't think you want me to stop to do it.'

Edited 2016-11-28 00:13 (UTC)

Very few men, indeed. She'd be glad to know it suits her but for the moment, her mind is decidedly elsewhere. And that's not on dealing with the condom, though she feels she should be somewhat useful instead of a near quivering mess.

"No, I've got it."

Tess reaches into his pocket and fishes the package out, opening it delicately since she's performing a bit of a balancing act. Finally, she gets the condom out and manages to reach down and roll it down over him.

She's broken out in a bit of a sweat doing this and once finished, she lifts her head in search of another kiss, hands back around his neck.

He doesn't make it easy by slowing down or anything; on the contrary, while she's busy with opening the wrapper and getting the thing on him, he decides it's the perfect time to add a bit more pressure and speed his rhythm a but. She can have a kiss, though. A long one if she wants it, as he pushes her skirt up to her hips and drags her knickers to one side.

'Hold on.'

He might go slow, but he's sure as hell not going to go easy. He thrusts in hard, gripping her ass to keep her pulled forward, shoving deep and then grinding deeper, watching her face the whole time.

Why would he make it any easier for her? She expects nothing less and that's why she deserves that kiss. Of course, it's interrupted by what he says and for some reason she feels like she should listen to him, her grip on him tightening.

And then he's inside her, rough and ready. Her eyes flutter closed, her mouth open to accommodate her increased breathing. She can't help but respond, hissing out a breath that vaguely sounds like a 'yes'. Unsurprisingly, Tess likes it a bit rough so she pushes right back against him with equal fervor.

He laughs, soft but with an edge of something he's never shown her during sex. He likes it more than a bit rough, and if she's up for going down that road, he's never going to say no. He draws back all the way to the tilt, and then snaps forward again, one hand on her ass and the other on her breast, nipping her breath off her lips.

That drags another moan out of her, louder than before, her nails digging into his skin at the base of his neck. She continues to push back, hips rocking back and forth against his hand.

'If you leave marks on me, you'll be in serious trouble.'

He's teasing, except for the way he's really not. But it doesn't sound like he minds the sensation for now, and he starts a hard rhythm because he likes that noise out her, and the way she's coming to meet him, working for her own pleasure. He rolls her nipple between his fingertips, pinching a little, twisting gently in counterpoint to the firm thrusts between her legs.

"It'll be your own fault."

She removes her hands and starts unbuttoning his shirt to expose the rest of his throat, then takes little nips all the way down, nothing hard enough to leave marks. Her moans keep coming, throaty and low, and eventually she simply rests her head on his shoulder.

'It's not my fault you love a hard dick.'

Her teeth makes him hiss a touch, in a good way. It seems a good time to retaliate when she rests her head down, though his idea of retaliation is to lick the pad of his thumb and push it against her clit, leaving it there for her to rock against.

'Not my fault you're going to come on it.'

"Oh...oh, it is your fault I'm going to come."

It's whispered up against his ear as her own thrusts get harder and harder, allowing herself to grind against that pad of skin.

"Fuck, yes. Don't stop."

He grins breathlessly at that - fiiiine, he'll take credit - and pulses his thumb against her like a heartbeat on her skin, meeting every harder thrust at him with a harder one of his own.

'You don't stop. Go on, ride it. Take what you want, it suits you.'

He'll provide the means, and she can help herself. He turns his head and scrapes his teeth down her neck, absolutely leaving a mark where people will be able to see it, and then whispering in turn, 'come, then. I like watching it.'

Edited 2016-11-28 04:20 (UTC)

The last thing Tess is going to do it stop. She continues her pace and rhythm until her head comes off his shoulder and falls back, eyes closed. The sounds she makes now are more like whimpers as she gets ever closer to her release.

Sometimes Jim's really annoyed at himself for being...himself. Like right now, when he enjoys this sight objectively but still can't fall into it the way he should. He surveys her from under half-lowered eyelids, pushing her harder, loving how hot and wet she is and anticipating the moment of release.

Her throat's open for for the taking though, so he leans in and licks a stripe up it anyway, letting salt explode on his tongue before biting down, leaving another mark where it'll be difficult to hide.

It's the bite that pushes her over the edge, the heat inside her bursting with pleasure. She rids him faster and a little bit harder as the waves pulse though her body.

She'll talk about the marking later. When she's come down and is more coherent.

Jim sucks his breath over his teeth as she rides him harder, and laughs when the bite makes her come.

Other than that he just watches, and lets her settle as she needs. It's a pretty enough sight, and she does feel good.

Her chest is heaving once everything starts to dissipate and she slows down until she's at a near stop. She rests her arms on his shoulders and tries to catch her breath.

"now I really am tired."

He chuckles and looks her over. A very nice mess, and he is, as ever, pleased with himself for bringing it about.

'Lucky for you, I hear that sofa over there turns into a bed if you want it.'

She sighs and brushes her hair back.

"No, I think I'll just finish up here and go to the Penthouse."

A two hour ride back to Smallville doesn't seem all that appealing right now.

Jim shrugs - makes no difference to him - and pulls out of her, sorting his clothes out and going to find a bin for the condom.

'That's your city place?'

"One of them."

The main one, the only one she stays at. The others are for guests or just because she felt like buying them. A few are hideouts.

Tess straightens herself out and slides off the desk.

"I can open a door for you from here."

'I assumed.'

He washes his hands, and helps himself to a fresh drink from the bar. He's tense, wound up under his skin, but it doesn't show much and he's not unfriendly.

'So I'll get on with everything for the base. I've got a few other things on, but nothing that'll really hold this up.'

Unless Hannibal comes through with a door; he'll put everything on hold for that challenge. Or unless Sherlock comes back, which he'll have to do eventually, but Jim has no reason to believe it'll be any time soon. So. Moonbase it is.

"I trust if anything does arise you'll let me know."

It's only fair.

Tess is in need of a shower and some proper food. She glances over to him.

"Don't forget your bows and arrows."

'Can do.'

He finishes his vodka and sets his glass down. He needs to go. He enjoys doing this, but it's frustrating. And as an experiment, it just proves that Sherlock being gone is a problem he isn't going to go away.

A nod in her direction, and he collects his laptop and modelling device, and chucks them into Oliver's bag of arrows. The bow follows, and he's ready.

'Okay, kick me out. We've both got stuff to be doing,'

He does appreciate her lack of need for sentiment. He's not even going to try faking it.

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