1 | fullmetal alchemist © hiromu arakawa
2 | 'tessellate' – ellie goulding; i know it's originally by alt-J, but ellie's cover is made for sex, k.
3 | big thanks to vrangr for fixing my super sexy ultra awkward typo. love you, gurrrrl.
His hand slides its way up her arm, and he weaves his fingers into hers as he trails love bites down her neck and her collarbone—every gasp, every hitch in her breath makes the room smaller and the air denser as he presses himself against her. His hand leaves hers and snakes past those goddamn curves eversoslowly—she bites his lip when he brushes his thumb so, so close to her nipple under the fabric of her shirt—down to her hip where he fiddles with the hem of her underwear. He starts to slowlycarefullysensually pull the soft, black fabric down, and she combs her fingers through his hair to pull him back up for her poison kiss.
He doesn't see it coming
when she flips him over,
his back against the bed,
hands pinning his shoulders down,
bare thighs straddling him
(and the only thing in the way is her goddamn underwear).
She breaks the kiss, leaving him hungrythirstyabsolutelydelirious.
Cloudy-eyed, starry-eyed, punch-drunk, stupefied, he feels like she ran him over like a train—and the joke is that he's the one who tied himself to the tracks. She doesn't miss a beat as her fingers ghost over the sides of his face, and she dives in for another kiss—but it's a tender kiss, the soulful, bittersweet side of their vinyl record, scratches and nicks from overuse.
and he wonders—does she know what she does to him?
Electric touch on her abdomen,
the tips of his fingers push under the hem of her shirt,
and when he dangerously skirts close to the valley between her breasts,
shepushesherselfupawayfromhimgoddamnitgoddamnitfuck
—she knows.
He sits up, and he is about to protest—wouldshejustgetthefuckoverhere—when she comes back to plant a quick kiss on his lips. He silently watches her slink away from him until she stands at the edge of the bed, and he can't read her expression at all—glint in her eyes, mouth slightly parted, messy blonde strands sticking all over.
damn.
Oh, he thinks he knows this woman and her every move until she pulls her shirt off, eyes following the white curtain rising above her taut skin stretched over those sexy hipbones, and—
head cloudy
heart pumping
blood rushing
god knows where all that blood goes
His heart skips a beat when she finally gets her head out of her shirt, hair falling back in place as she tosses the shirt aside, and damn, he's so fucking dizzy right now just looking at her breasts and those pert, pink nipples. His queen was by no means perfect, but—
ohfuckmealready
She brings her hands to her hips, thumbs slipping themselves in her blacksexycottony underwear. She bends over—god, those breasts—and pulls them down, down, down past those creamy thighs until they're all gone, and she's... well.
—well, fuck, she's perfect.
Licking her lips, she gets back on the bed and crawls her way back up to him. She kisses her way up from his abdomen—whatafuckingtease—to his shoulder, and to the corner of his lips, and she places a hand on his shoulder as she takes hold of him—fuckfuckfuck I might as well just fucking come in her hand already—and slowlyslowlyslowly lowers herself onto him
He feels like she has him standing on the edge of a cliff, his back to the cloudy sky as waves crash and roll off the side of the cliff. He looks into her brown eyes with strips of sun, and she only smiles as she holds on to him as they free fall off the cliff and into the stormy sea.
- and he can't remember how to breathe. -
but he's starting to remember
as her breathing gets heavier,
as her grip on his shoulders gets tighter
as she starts riding him
hardandfastandfuckitall.
He watches her face flush red, sweat rolling down her cheek and onto his chest. When she moans and moans and moans, she bites her fingers like she's so damn ashamed of her own voice right now, and he just gets harder—but he doesn't know if it's her moaning that does him in or her fingers in that pretty little mouth of hers.
She's too far gone to notice his hands inching up her hips, and he finallyfuckingfinally gets a hold of her soft breasts. Fondling them, he catches her biting her fingers harder, but those lovely sighs and whimpers break free anyway, and they are fucking glorious. He grins all stupidsillysenseless as he watches her hips gyrate—
—goodgoddamn, her hips are made for sex.
So how can he just lie there?
She doesn't see it coming
when he flips her over,
her back against the bed,
his hands pinning hers down
her bare thighs wrapped around him
(and there's nothing in the goddamn way this time).
Before she can complain about it, he pushes himself back into her, and she screams for him. He lowers himself, but she pulls him in fast, his lips on hers, and he doesn't hesitate to slip his tongue in her mouth. He meets the thrust of her hips, she pulls away and moans; he marks kisses down to her neck—he just fucking loves the way she smells—and she claws at his back.
the room
definitely feels smaller;
the air
definitely feels denser;
and they
definitely, infinitely feel
sogoddamnclose.
He's starting to see stars, so he grits his teeth. His clenched fist pulls on the sheets while the other snakes up her to her breast, and her chest rises to meet his lightning touch. Face flushed, pale pink lips parted open, he kisses her and chews on her lower lip as he quickens his pace. They are sogoddamnclose, god damn it.
so, so close to the surface of the raging sea—
It's this last thrust that undoes her, and she is in no way modest about it as she trembles and arcs her back and cries out his name. Her walls tighten around him—godfuckingdamnit—and he comes right after, his whole body shaking, the whole fucking universe behind his eyes.
—and they float on.
The storm subsides.
He pulls out, gets off her and rolls over next to her. He lies on his side and tucks an arm under his head. When she faces him, he is already fast asleep, but she doesn't think anything of it. She scoots a little closer to brush away the strands of black sticking to his forehead, and she drifts off to where he is.
Rain knocks on her window, and she wakes and floats back up from sleep. She finally opens her eyes to find him still asleep, bits and pieces of a dream leaving him whenever he breathes out. The hazy window goes from ashy grey to powdery white, beads of dew forming on the glass. His fingers glide across the bed, and his warm hand caresses her face. She gives his hand a kiss, and—
it's that effortlessly, exceptionally extraordinary smile.
She moves
closer,
closer,
closer.
He welcomes her with a
clock-stopping
mind-blowing
breath-taking
boldbrilliantbeautiful
kiss (that makes her melt),
and as she brings him back
to the cliff,
to the sea,
they
t
e
s
s
e
l
l
a
t
e
.