Satisfying the Unsatisfied
by Kurama-Sweethart
Pairing: Roy Mustang x Lust
Words: 479
Author's Note: Totally random fic that didn't have alot of thought to it. Unedited, totally raw. Written to get my creative juices flowing.
Summary: She wonders if he knows what he's doing.
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She wonders if he knows what he's doing.
How easy it had been, to stroll by and convince him that it was he that was seducing her. She fit into her role flawlessly, as was expected, and caught his eye in the street. He was quick to invite her back to his home, she found smugly, not that she could be satisfied with anything too lengthy.
Oh, how skilled his hands were, wasting no time in exploring every curve and arch of her body. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against her neck, and she felt her whole body shudder as her sin began to take over and thinking took too much effort.
They barely made it through the hallway, let alone to the bedroom, so the Flame pushed her against a wall and fondled her breasts with a delighted smirk, nibbling at her lips. "What are you waiting for?" She breathed, pressing the palm of her hand into his thigh.
He must have had enough of her talking, because a rough kiss stopped her words in their tracks, and she could taste them on her tongue.
Looking back, she wonders if he knows what he's doing, and she knows that he doesn't.
The Flame presses into her, every touch like needles into her skin, devouring her. Men, women, even children; she had taken them all, watched their eyes glaze over in raw pleasure. She had that effect; it was a curse as much as a blessing.
But he… he was different.
He kisses her again, the second penetration in seconds. He tries to be gentle, waiting for her to adjust to the feeling of him inside her; but there is no need. She's more experienced than that.
They move in rhythms, he setting the pace and she pushing it along, urging for fasterharderstronger, wishing that this pleasure could last longer than it has.
But he's spent now, holding her arms and biting her shoulder, and she grinds against him, trying to find her own climax that will never come.
"You didn't-" he says, with a concerned look on his face. He slips his hand between them, to finish her, but she catches his wrist. He searches her eyes, but she knows that he will find nothing there.
She's just a doll, after all.
"I'm going." She says, and she wishes the words weren't so emotionless.
He rambles a protest into her jaw, invites her to spend the night, to try again. He wants her to find her pleasure, too, and the feeling makes her heart sink into her stomach.
She wishes she could forget the look on his face when she leaves, and she wishes she could tell him that she'll come back.
Lust loves him, but she knows that it's a cruel, selfish sort of love that can never be returned.
She's just a doll.