inspired by THIS POSTfrom COSETTESFAUCHELEVENTS
marius pontmercy: sex god though - a marius x cosette smut drabble that is literally all sex and no plot.
i'm not kidding.
seriously.
smut.
"Slower," she whispers, all teeth and lips against his neck. And quite diligently he complies, his hips slowing to a deliberate pace, thrusting in that o so perfect spot that has her teetering on the edge.
He's laying on top of her with one arm looped around her back and the other hand grasping at the nape of her neck. He leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses and thick groans against the delicate line of her collarbone. She gasps his name and wordlessly he thrusts harder.
The next time his name is on her tongue it comes out as a cry.
She shatters against him as he spends himself inside her. They lie there for a few moments, basking in the sweaty afterglow. She thinks to herself about how everyone says missionary is boring.
And she laughs.
He has her laid on the kitchen table with her ass on the edge, fucking her hard and fast with every inch of his length. One of her lovely legs is draped over his shoulder while he keeps the other flush to the table by gripping her thigh.
He licks his thumb and lowers it to her swollen clit, stroking it in the lazy way that only practice brings. Her breath hitches and her eyelids flutter. And he looks down at her with a lopsided smile. A knowing smile.
That's all it takes.
She comes harder than she has in…
Well, since yesterday, she supposes.
They're fucking in the armchair. She sits in his lap, her back pressed against his chest. His hand covers hers at her center and the lightness of her fingers marries with the force of his to give her a long, slow orgasm. She's dripping wet and agonizingly sensitive while she continues sliding up and down on his cock.
"Marius," she whimpers. "I can't- I'm… it's too much."
"Okay, one second, love."
He tips her head back so that it rests on his shoulder. Bracing his elbows on the arms of the chair, he lifts her up by the ass with both hands. He grunts with effort as he brings his hips to meet her, sheathing himself inside of her with long, gentle thrusts.
But soon he is shuddering beneath her and moaning her name through gritted teeth as he comes.
They collapse into one another. He wraps his arms around her waist and buries his damp face into her hair. After a few moments a thought comes to her and a giggle escapes from her lips.
"What's so funny?"
"You."
Marius jerks, moving to her right and peering over her shoulder so that their eyes meet. She giggles again and clarifies: "I think you're better at fucking than me."
"Oh God, Cosette." He blushes something fierce, the darkness of the room doing nothing to hide his embarrassment as he hides his face in her hair. "You- I. You know, you. You just… You can't say things like that, Jesus Christ."