When he becomes aware again, it's to the sensation of a small hand rubbing his prick through the towel.
A low groan rumbles in his chest, and he arches up into the touch- hesitant and careful, just enough to turn him on, no where near enough to get him off. He grunts something that might be "Harder," and he figures it must be because that sweet pressure increases, and he's openly grinding into her hand...
All at once, he realizes where he is and who he's with, and his eyes snap open, inky blue meeting deep brown. His hand closes over hers abruptly, stilling it, though not quite pulling it away.
"What's wrong?" she whispers, sitting back on her haunches. His eyes flick downward, and he realizes he can see the curve of her ass beneath the cheap white towel, a swell of breast where it gaps a little. He bites his lower lip, eyes falling halfway closed under the barrage of images his brain is providing; how those pale thighs would tremble when he touched her, just how far down that blush would extend.
"What are you doing?" he asks instead, rising onto his elbows, voice gone husky. She doesn't pull her hand away, and he has to fight against the urge to pin her beneath him and fuck her hard.
"I don't know." She replies, a little nervous smile crossing her face. The vial of Zydrate is warm where it's been clenched in his fist. He drops it onto the table beside him, and watches her eyes follow it, trancelike, before snapping back to his.
Instead of responding, he just pulls her down into a kiss, and he knows it's nothing like a first kiss should be; sweet and awkward, maybe a little bit fumbling. No, it's piercing, designed to make her want more; calculated to ignite her body. He explores the roof of her mouth, reveling in how warm, how soft, how clean she is as he pulls her down on top of him, his hand splayed across her ass, drawing his fingernails across the tender flesh. She moans into his mouth, sounding a little surprised, and grinds into him lightly.
She didn't know this could feel good for her, too.
He smirks against her lips and pulls away a little. "No idea what you're getting into, little girl…" he purrs lowly, a dark smile spreading across his mouth as he rolls her over, flipping their positions. She arches up against him, grinding against his erection, and he presses his hips into hers, grinning as he's rewarded with a low groan and a small undulation of her hips. His lips return to hers, nipping lightly then soothing with his tongue. She returns the kiss enthusiastically, if with little finesse, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder. Their mouths continue their exploration as he trails his hand slowly down her throat, her chest, fingers hooking under the edge of the towel. It falls away easily, and the sudden pause that being naked gives her is palpable.
Before she can think about it too much, he slides his hand lower, brushing teasingly over a rosy nipple, already puckered from the cold. Her lips part in a gasp, her back arching, fingers digging into his back.
He relishes in the pinpricks of pain, in her incredible responsiveness, and throws her a lazy smile before dipping down to lave his tongue across her nipple, closing it between his lips, eliciting a rough moan.
"You like that?" he murmurs against her chest, knowing she'll feel it everywhere. She arches up into him again. "Ye-" she begins, only to cut herself off with a whimpering gasp as his mouth migrates to pay the same homage to the other side. Those fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging sharply.
A little groan escapes him, and he nips lightly at the tender underside of her breast, smiling at the sounds she's making, her hitched breathing and flushed cheeks.
Slowly, tortuously, he kisses his way back up her body, back to those soft lips as his hands slide downward, wrapping around her thighs, spreading her legs so he can rest between them. His right continues, until his fingers are slick and he's stroking her like he's playing a guitar. She cries out and arches up hard against him, her eyes squeezing shut.
"Faster- god, faster-" she whimpers, circling her hips in counterpoint. He smirks and slips two fingers into her, licking his lips unconsciously as she keens, bucking against his hand.
"Not as innocent as I thought." he murmurs, amusement and lust soaking his tone.
"Not- ohh... Not much else to do, locked in your room all your life." she pants, breathing speeding up as his left hand tweaks a nipple, and he almost moans as he feels her clamp around his fingers- god, so tight...
He lets out a husky bark of laughter at the quip.
"I guess not..."
He leans over, nipping and biting at her neck. She'll have a bruise there tomorrow.
She whimpers, on a knife's edge between pain and pleasure, and he's finished with the slow and gentle teasing shtick. She wanted this, wanted to feel (and not to feel), so who is he to deny her?
Reaching down, he removes the towel from around his waist. She stills for a moment, drawing her lower lip between her teeth
"Shh…" he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of her and bracing his arm above her shoulder on the bed. He's glad she's so wet- it'll make it easier on both of them. He wonders briefly if she's a virgin, but dismisses the thought almost immediately. It's irrelevant. Slowly, he guides himself into her, and Christ, she's so tight, so warm- she lets out a little whimper, clenching around him, and whether it's from pleasure or pain he's not sure, and frankly doesn't much care as long as she keeps squeezing him like that-
He looks down into her eyes, and they're nearly black, pools of confusion and lust and pain. "You alright?" he asks lowly, cutting himself off with a little groan as he pushes in the rest of the way. He wonders briefly what the hell made him ask that, and chalks it up to the fact that her eyes remind him of another place and time. He leans down, kissing her deeply.
"I'm- yeah… I'm fine." She murmurs, still looking slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores that in favor of the wet heat engulfing him so perfectly. He thrusts, shallowly at first, helping her get used to the feeling of being stretched, but as her expression softens into a pleasure so akin to pain the two are almost indistinguishable from each other, he can't help but drive into her a little deeper, a little harder…
One hand goes down to circle her clit, rubbing against it firmly, and he feels her clench around him again, a little strangled sound erupting from both their mouths at the sensation, the friction building between them again.
"Mo- oh, please, more-" she gasps, her nails drawing down his back once again, leaving fiery trails of heat in their wake.
She'll be bruised and he'll be scratched to hell tomorrow morning.
He speeds up, one hand tangling in her hair, the cheap headboard slapping against the wall, and she cries out, rolling her hips against him, hooking her legs around his waist. A rough sound, almost a growl, erupts from his throat as the move pushes him deeper, and he's practically slamming into her now, reveling in the way those noises are fairly ripping themselves out of her throat, spilling over her lips like the richest wine. She's close, so close, and he won't be far behind, because he can feel her beginning to spasm around him, crying out his name. His eyes fall to where she's stretched tight around his cock, and as her teeth sink into his shoulder, he goes temporarily blind. His blood is like fire, everything focusing on this, this moment, and Christ, it feels like the top of his skull is about to fly off, a groan so low it's nearly subvocal- his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Boneless and panting, he collapses on top of her, feeling the last shuddering aftershocks of her orgasm run through her as he begins to soften.
They just lay there for a few moments, breathing hard.
Finally, he rolls off of her, grabbing the towel from where it landed at the foot of the bed and cleans himself off. Silently, he hands the towel to Shilo, who just looks a little bit confused.
"Wipe yourself off, darlin', or I can guarantee you'll regret it later." He murmurs, feeling a satiated smile crawl across his face. She just nods and does so, gingerly. He notices a spot of red on the towel before she crumples it and throws it away. He can't quite bring himself to regret it, but throws her a concerned look anyway. "You alright?"
Her mouth turns up slightly. Eyes still devoid of any sort of meaningful emotion. "Fine. Just a little sore…" Her voice is a little muzzled.
He snorts a little laugh, letting his eyes drift closed. He wishes for the briefest instant that this had somehow made her come alive again, but the thought is a vague, half-formed thing, and it drifts out of his conscious mind before he can consider it.
Somewhere beside him, her breathing evens out. His eyes slide over to her face, and her features have softened in sleep; she looks peaceful, younger somehow. He watches that face, the soft lips still looking bruised, the dusky lashes against her cheek.
Then he shakes himself, disgusted at the ridiculous display of sentimentality. And, fuck. She's asleep. And he's not the type to not uphold his end of the bargain. Damn. Heaving a sigh, he walks back to the bathroom- two showers in one night never hurt anyone, after all.
When he emerges, clothes slung on haphazardly, she's still asleep, curled up into a little ball on the bed. He walks over, fully intending to prod her awake so that he can leave already. Instead, he finds himself pulling the blanket up around her, covering her with it quietly.
He drops a card onto the side table, picking up the vial of zydrate and pocketing it. 'Consider this an IOU. You know where to find me' is scrawled across it on one side.
With one last glance to the sleeping figure, he steps out the door and into the frigid blackness of night.