Divine
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She's a mess of aching wants and unmet needs under him.
Her hands fist at the roots of his hair, well on the verge of begging but he carries on in an unhurried pace, marking an indolent path of fiery desire with his soft kisses and lazy licks down the length of her arching body.
She gasps, hips rising of their own accord as his warm hands grip at her knees, parting her thighs, keeping her spread and untethered for him.
Ichigo is relentless in his pursuit to bring her pleasure. The way he goes down on her for hours on end, edging her; the dedication of his dirty mouth and single-mindedness is enough to make her cry.
The plunge of his fingers into her sopping core is divine and she muffles her screams by biting into the sheets. Their eyes meet and the gleam in his is sharp and unholy as he flicks his tongue at her swollen bud. She jerks.
The moan that leaves his mouth at the first taste of her ripe and heady on his tongue sends another torrent of want shuddering through her.
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O she doth teach the torches to burn bright. It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night; As a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.
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He withdraws almost abruptly in favour of licking at the shell of her ear, teeth nipping at her ear lobe. Her thighs are quivering- aftereffects from his sensual voice and equally talented tongue.
Goosebumps- from his warm wide-mouth exhales that fans her heated body as he makes his way back down, the way her flesh flares and flushes under his touch and kisses. His other hand trails upwards, brushing against her pebbled nipples, tweaking them as she mewls softly for more.
His chuckles are dark and throaty as he settles back into his perch between her legs, callused, blessed fingers still knuckle-deep at work. He kisses her on her inner thighs, purring.
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But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
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Now, she thinks he's being deliberately obtuse. He knows what she wants more of and here's a hint it's not fucking Shakespeare.
"A-Ass."
His response to that is a firm grope of her ass, kneading it and just because he's in a mood dangerous enough for it, nips at her ass cheeks. She yelps, legs thrashing from the surprise and narrowly avoids kicking him in his face.
She almost wishes she hadn't missed when she hears his unrepentant laughter.
"I-Ichi-Go!" she whines.
He really is the worst. He can be so petty. She insulted his favourite author this one time and he turns this all against her. She huffs, leaning back up, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.
The smirk and the darkening of his eyes are the only warnings she get before he crooks his fingers just so, curling deep into her, making her choke on her words.
She throws her head back, eyes half-mast from the pleasure, teeth biting down hard enough on her lower lip to draw blood as his tongue joins in the fray.
This time, he doesn't stop. He spares a hand to hold her down by her hips and circles her clit with his tongue, teasing her, stoking her flames, building her up for her peak. Never letting go despite the painful grasp she has on his hair.
Fingers and tongue curl in tandem.
There's an ache within her that only he fills; the crevices of something beyond physical intimacy that he provides in the warmth of his embrace just before the surge of dopamine and euphoria hits home.
She cries out as her walls clench. He's so good to her.
Her mind hazes from the pleasure- about how three is the perfect number, how soft his hair is underneath her fingertips, about how she's going to pay him back in kind and give him the best head he's ever had after this.
The flat of his tongue presses against her core and the world ceases to be—
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Her shrill cry echoes as she spills over. The juices trickle down her thighs, his chin, the bedsheets but he's still keeping her in place, fingers still vigorously pumping into her, the slurp and dip of his tongue undulating, sliding deep and needy as she grinds against his face. The catch of sensitive flesh against the roughness of his stubble—
She comes hard.
Hard enough to know nothing save the broken syllables of his name and the feel of his warm body curled against hers.
When she comes to, her knees are still wobbly. Her voice is rough and her breathing laboured; her body spent and sticky from the mixture of sweat and arousal but Ichigo doesn't shy away from her. If anything he holds her tighter, nuzzling his face against hers, sliding fingers through her hair and petting her.
She leans forward on her elbows, catching his lips in a slobbering mess of teeth and tongue; her cheeks warming at the thought of tasting herself on his lips.
"Ready to give Shakespeare another try?"
She scoffs, rolling her eyes at him.
The only thing she's willing to give another try is him. Him with a mouth too damn smart for his own good, tongue of equal parts a blessing and a curse, dreamy brown eyes, large warm hands that span the width of her waist and those delectable bruised lips.
She sighs, wetting her lips as her fingers ghosts along the edges of his bulge. There is no mistaking that sharp intake of breath, the bob of his Adam's apple as she leans forward, dipping her hand past the waistband of his briefs, dainty fingers gripping at the hardening length.
He moans, a choked and wretched Rukia falling from his lips like a prayer.
She chuckles.
He makes it too easy sometimes, she thinks as she bites and nips at his neck. Her husky voice is breathless and coy as she drags her tongue down the side of his neck. The pulse and subsequent rush of blood in his veins is deafeningly loud to her.
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My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
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His cock twitches.
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Prompt: Romeo and Juliet
Ichigo has a Shakespeare kink. What? It's canon!
I was really torn about this prompt. For starters, R&J is not my favourite. Too weepy for my own good and the fact that she's thirteen maybe fourteen at the start of the story? Grrrr—never!
But as always, when life gives you lemons… XD I love lame puns.