sampippy | Outside Xan's Apartment Building, Manhattan, NY, Saturday

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Outside Xan's Apartment Building, Manhattan, NY, Saturday

Xanthippe was having a panic attack.

Okay, no she wasn't. But it felt like the brink of one? Because she was on the sidewalk outside the building she lived in now, waiting for Hyacinthe, and up - way, way up - in her apartment she had stuff ready for his visit and a couple of gifts because maybe this'd be the last time before he finally went home, and what if he didn't like anything and what if she was a huge loser and what if --

Anyway. Outwardly, she was mostly cool? Just... standing there, beanie on her head and a coat on over her dress, fidgeting with her phone for lack of a better thing to do with her hands. She looked fine.

But she was going to internally flail herself to death if he didn't get here soon.

[ooc: NFB and for the one mentioned!]

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Was anything, really?

Xanthippe moaned quietly immediately upon first contact, her fingers pushing into his hair for a firm hold on them.

"Good."

No. But that amount was a tease more than anything else.

His agreement was muffled, his face buried between her thighs. His hands gripped her hips firmly, he was using his mouth alone for this, sucking and licking and lapping at her with less technique and more unrestrained greed.

They only had something like 22 floors' worth of time for this, so technique wasn't a requirement, especially when he was bringing so much feeling.

There was also something fumbly but urgent about the way one of her legs just... kind of somehow ended up over his shoulder? Shush, she was just making sure he had all the room he needed.

She thought it was pretty good thinking from someone getting so overwhelmed so fast, like she was.

Hyacinthe certainly approved and did his best to show her by giving her more of what she so clearly needed.

His cock was hot and heavy against his thigh, a deep ache in his midsection. But that didn't matter right now, not when he was drowning in her taste and scent and everything was beautifully perfect.

The only non-perfect thing was that Xanthippe had to keep her eyes on where the floor numbers were. Or at least she tried her best to? The occasional glance was probably good enough.

It had to be, because she also had to devote about half the time to looking down at Hyacinthe because the view was just too good to pass up. "Oh my God, you -- you l-look so hot right now." The words were jittery, and tapered off into a moan but hey, surely he'd appreciate the sentiment?

She could feel a coiling in the pit of her stomach, and tension in her legs, building and building.

Hyacinthe barely even heard her - and not just because of the way her thighs were framing his head. He was intensely focused on what he was doing, the way she moved beneath his mouth, his hands. His tongue played with her pearl until it was an aching point and then he sucked it into his mouth. He caught her essence, swallowing it down, slaking a thirst that went beyond the physical.

Elua's balls, he'd missed her.

Was it just Xanthippe, or was this somehow even more intense than usual?

She was pretty sure it was not just her. You know, in the way that she could be pretty sure of anything right now. Which wasn't very solid at all, because his mouth on her felt like he was intent on just devouring her entirely, like maybe she was a goddess and this was how he'd get to heaven. It was making her moan raggedly and make desperate little noises and sort of half-grind her hips against his mouth because self-consciousness was out the window when all she could really think about was how hard this had to be making him.

And that was the thought in her mind and on her lips, both equally muddled, as she suddenly and gloriously unraveled against his mouth, back arching, the fingers in his hair tightening, and everything under his lips and his tongue throbbing with her release.

And for one wild, glorious moment, all Hyacinthe could think to do was shove down his pants and sheathe himself inside her, to ride out the waves of pleasure deep within her.

It took more willpower than he cared to admit to draw away, to stand up and not fall upon her.

No, Xan was right there with him. Though her effort went towards not slamming the emergency stop button and begging him to take her up against the wall.

Getting a full look at his face again did nothing to lessen the urge. So she did the next best thing, and grabbed him to kiss him. It was rough and sloppy and kind of made it obvious this hadn't been one of those orgasms that left her feeling like she wanted to nap, but rather like she was greedy for more.

And then the elevator dinged, signaling they'd made it onto her floor.

"... Fuck, okay, we just need to make it across the hallway."

"Hard as I am, you expect me to walk?" Hyacinthe croaked, thought he was turning to face the doors as they opened anyway.

"If you plan to fuck me," Xanthippe told him, tugging her dress back down, "yes."

She tried taking his hand again, then leaned out first to peer down the hallway. There was no one there, which made her exhale a relieved sigh before she tugged him into the hallway and towards the nearest door.

At least she hadn't been kidding about 'across the hallway'.

"I'd not move for anything else," Hyacinthe assured her, walking stiffly behind her as fast as he could. "Elua's balls, Xanthippe, open your door or I'll end up shagging you against it."

Xanthippe wanted to be quippy about how that could also be arranged even after the door had been opened, but really, she was feeling pretty weak in the knees at just listening to him right now.

So all she actually managed was a whiny "I'm trying." as she fumbled a little with her key. Stupid goddamn smartlock bulls--

There. The door opened. "Oh thank fuck."

Hyacinthe pushed her inside, slamming the door behind them and shoving her up against the closest wall. "I need to be inside you, Xan. I need to be fucking you and I can't wait."

And to think Xanthippe had at one point thought they'd had an actual shot at making it to a damned deli before everything went completely pornographic.

She wasn't thinking about any delis right now.

"Please," she gasped, her hands already fumbling to undo his pants or to pull up her dress, or both. There was something about him that always seemed to short-crcuit her brain a little.

Hyacinthe reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom with uncommonly clumsy fingers. It slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. "Shit!" he spat.

"Leave it."

See? Short-circuited.

... Okay, not entirely, because since his last visit she'd actually made some birth control related changes, but she maybe hadn't meant to bring it up to discussion in the heat of the moment. Though judging by the insistent if clumsy undoing of his pants, she was less intent on discussing and more on just informing him.

"But--"

Hyacinthe's protest was strangled and quickly dropped it. Because if she was certain, he would hardly argue against it. It was still a strange habit to him.

As soon as his pants were free, he growled, "Brace yourself against the wall."

That was a blissfully short protest. And the growl was a much better thing. Xanthippe would've gone weak at the knees if that hadn't pretty much already been a constant state for her.

There was something scrambly and uncoordinated about the way she turned away from him, but at least the wall was a solid thing for her to plant her hands against. Her dress was already hiked up, bunched up around her waist.

She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Like this?"

Hyacinthe didn't answer; not with words anyway. He simply stepped behind her, hand around the base of his cock, and thrust into her with a single stroke. "This is what I needed," he growled into her ear, one hand tangling in her hair, his other gripping her hip in a hard grasp.

And just like that, every part of her felt like it was on fire, or electrified, or something, and the ragged moan that escaped her proved it.

Her back arched, and her head tipped back at the feel of his hand in her hair. She was slick and tight around his cock, and oh so aware of how there wasn't anything at all between them. Not this time.

"Oh my God."

He tilted her head and murmured into her ear, "You are so wet." And then he licked down the smooth, pale column of her throat and bit down where it met her shoulder.

There was nothing between them and he reveled in it.

Xanthippe hissed at the bite, but it was a good hiss. She could feel her nipples hardening into peaks under her bra, under her dress. The awareness of how they were both still halfway clothed was a rush on its own, somehow.

"No kidding," she sighed. "And you're so hard."

Inane, but accurate!

"All for you," he panted, pulling her hips out a little further so he could thrust harder, faster. "Damnation, Xanthippe, how are you this perfect?"

"Because you make me this perfect."

The words were a whimper, and this was the only sort of moment he would find her just accepting his claims of perfection like that.

Her head was tipping forward and her nails were trying to dig into the wall for a better hold against the way her body moved with his movements, and she felt just about ready to unravel already. No surprise, really, with the way the elevator had left her feeling.

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