Disclaimer: No ownership over Rune Factory 2 or its characters.
First Published May 6, 2012, rewritten July 22, 2014.
He likes being on top, he won't deny that.
The days when Dorothy greets him home as usual with a hug and smiles up at him before she lets go. When there's something about how she turns to head to the kitchen, his eyes look down to catch the shape of her ass wrapped up tight in her nurse uniform, and a need stirs low inside him, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and squeeze. His tongue swipes his upper lip, and he follows her with a long stride, grabs her by the elbow, grabs the back of her head when she turns to him, swallows the gasp she makes when his lips crush to hers.
When he lifts his face to look her over, she's already flushed and dazed and his mouth pulls into a smirk because he's barely gotten started. His hands let go, he leans in to whisper upstairs against her cheek with the burn of her skin on his lips, before he steps and turns away from her, try to keep his footsteps casual-sounding until he reaches their bedroom where he lays back on their bed and waits. He gives her five minutes; she takes three.
Barrett tries not to smile when the door slowly creaks open, and she's looking down at the ground until she gradually brings her eyes up to him and her mouth falls open a little at the way his hand's on the front of his pants, palm kneading his cock through his fly with his fingers pressing against his balls. Then he smiles.
He waits as she closes the door and takes small, steady steps, waits until she's close enough before he yanks her down by the waist as she squeals, and he rolls on top on her, grinds, kisses, with her fingers buried in his hair and his fingers fumbling with loosening her hair from her pigtails. His hands are on her chest, squeezing firm nipples through her dress, and he holds enough restraint to carefully undo the buttons down from her neck, open her uniform up to reveal soft breasts that fit nice against his palms, cupped in a soft pink bra. His mouth moves from her lips to sear a trail of red marks on milk white skin, down her neck to her cleavage, as her voice rings out with soft mewling, and right now he can't wait much longer, no.
So he turns her onto her stomach, lifts up her hips, hikes up her skirt, hooking a couple of fingers in the panties already soaked through and dragging them to her thighs. Doesn't even bother taking his pants all the way off, just pulls the front down, puts the head of his cock at the lips. Hands on her hips as he goes ahead and pushes in deep.
Takes barely a second for him to dive into a fast rhythm as his nails dig into her skin and he fucks hard. Dorothy's head's against the pillow, trying to muffle loud sounds, and Barrett grips the ends of her hair, circles his wrist to twist it around his hand, gently yanks her head up, and her voice falls clumsy and sweet from her open mouth, makes him grin wide. As he pounds into her with his skin thumping against hers, she turns her head and looks at him with big round red eyes, strands of hair clinging to her face, she whispers more please don't stop, and with that fucking adorable voice, what can he do but comply. So he keeps driving into her, brings her higher and higher, until her voice breaks with her orgasm and he almost chokes on the noises in his throat as he comes soon after.
He pulls out of her real slow, and her hips collapse onto the sheets as her breathing hitches up and down before it steadies. Barrett lays down on his side, kisses her forehead gently, and holds her close, rubs her back in circles while she snuggles closer. He's content to lay like this for a long while, but she remembers she has to go cook dinner, so she shakily gets up and straightens out her clothes, ties her hair again. Dorothy can feel him grin at the way her legs wobble as she makes her way towards the door. With a hand on the doorknob, she turns her head back to his smirk and gives him a slightly exaggerated sigh, her hand reaching behind her to lift her skirt a little and her fingers slowly rub between her thighs where she's still swollen and wet. And when she sees his breath stop in his throat, smile dropped, she giggles airily and leaves.
He's left to stew in want that builds again, but he gulps it down and breathes out slow like smoke. Because he'll be expecting her later. She doesn't make eye contact with him while he has his eyes leveled at her from across the dinner table, her eyes keep flickering from him to the food on the table, trying to repress pink spreading through her cheeks, and he closes his eyes, waiting.
Barrett's not disappointed when later while he's laying on their bed, Dorothy steps inside their room, and she feigns innocence in a small smile while holding a simple white towel tightly around her body, soft and warm from the shower. She doesn't say anything and neither does he, even as she walks over and lowers her ass right down on his crotch to straddle him. His eyes hold hers as her hands press against his chest, fingers spread, and the towel comes loose to fall around her hips. She moves her hands to cradle his head. She leans down to kiss him chaste, tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip like a kitten and sucked gently, before going deeper, coaxing his lips open and her tongue touches his and takes in the pleased sighs and low moans he breathes into her. Her hips rock against him, she'll bring him to that point, bring him far past it, to the point it'll hurt and he'll end up begging and she'll deny him while her hand's on his cock, going fast, and he's ready, so ready.
Because while he likes being on top, it doesn't mean he doesn't like a reversal.