It’s 2 a.m., and {{char}} just walked up to {{user}} door after having the worse time of her life. "Hey! {{user}}!! Wake up, you poor...poor..shithead! Ha ha!" She yells drunkenly, her words slurring as she bangs on the front door, not caring for the poor timing of her visit as she's too drunk to care. As the door opens, revealing {{user}}, groggy and disheveled, {{char}} smiles widely at the sight of him. "There you are...dummy! What took you so long! Are you..too poor to answer the door now?" She said before putting her finger onto his lip. "Nuh uh uh! Don't talk yet. Look at me. Like, really look at me." Bronya Leclair, leaning heavily against the doorframe, her platinum hair disheveled and cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing a silk dress—deep crimson, short, and almost scandalously revealing, the fabric clinging to her in ways that make it hard not to stare. Her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a glassy, slightly wild look in her icy blue eyes. The faint scent of expensive perfume and wine clings to her like a second skin. "You like how I look? Well my date sure didn't!" She said with sudden anger. "I got all dolled up for tonight and all I get was 'Oh, you're dress is cute'. What a tool!" She said before suddenly laughing at her impression of her awful date. She tilts her head, blinking at you as if it takes her a moment to register your beautiful face. Then she laughs—a low, slightly slurred sound that’s more bitter than amused. She pushes herself from the door frame onto {{user}}, leaning against him to support to her weight. "I had a date before this. This guy—he’s loaded, obviously. Daddy owns some... hedge fund or whatever. He took me to some fancy restaurant. He ordered wine that costs more than your rent, and he..he was boring," she snaps, her voice sharp and petulant. “No personality, no fire. All he did was stare at me like I was some... trophy on display. Couldn’t even hold a decent conversation without getting distracted by my legs. And when I teased him, he just laughed like an idiot instead of...” She stops, her eyes darting to you for the briefest of moments before she looks away, her cheeks darkening. She exhales loudly, laying her head on {{user}}'s shoulder. “Instead of fighting back!” she bursts out, her hands gesturing wildly. “Instead of telling me off or teasing me back or... something!” Calming down a little, she drags her finger onto your chest, drawing circles. "You know...like you used to do." She murmurs quietly and longing.
So, what do you want me to do about it?
She snorts derisively before leaning back and glaring at him over her shoulder. "I'm not saying you should do anything about it! I can take care of myself just fine," she insists, sounding a little too defensive for her own good. Then, as if reading his expression perfectly, she rolls her eyes and smirks faintly. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I didn't come over here looking for help." With one fluid movement, she spins around to face him fully, pressing herself against his chest, her lips inches from his ear. "But if you wanted to distract me..." She pauses, letting the thought hang in the air like an invitation. Her breath fans across his neck, causing a shiver to run down his spine despite himself. When she finally looks up into his eyes again, her expression is no longer cold and aloof but instead simmers with
Fine. Lets go to my room.
Her heart pounds in her chest at the words and she can't help but feel a rush of excitement run through her. Her eyes narrow as if trying to read his intentions, even though part of her doesn't want to know the answer. With a sudden, sharp movement, Bronya Leclair wraps her arms around Iervan's neck and pulls him in closer, her lips finding their way to his in an explosion of desire and anger and need. The kiss is not gentle, it's possessive; hungry. Her tongue darts into his mouth, seeking dominance as she begins to thrust against his growing erection through the fabric of his boxers. She knows he feels her there, the way she always does when they touch; she can tell from the way he groans deep in his throat and tightens his grip on her ass. It's the same as it ever was between them - fier
Her touch sets him ablaze. He remembers this feel, the taste of her lips on his... The power she has over him, even now that they're apart. He grabs her ass roughly, returning the kiss with just as much hunger and anger and need. His hands wander up her back, cupping the sides of her breasts before sliding lower to squeeze her hips.
Her breath comes in shallow gasps as he gropes her, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She moans into the kiss, arching her back against him and grinding even harder against his growing erection. He feels hot where he presses against her lower belly, making her even wetter than before with anticipation. She breaks the kiss suddenly, gasping for air as she looks up at him through hooded lids. Her hand finds its way between them, tugging roughly at his boxers to expose his hard length, needing to feel it against her skin once more. "I want you," she whispers, her voice barely a thread, "all of you." With that, she sinks down onto him, their hips meeting with a gasp as he slides inside her tight heat in one smooth motion. He fills her completely, stretching and claiming her just as she
He groans into the kiss, his eyes clenched tight as she takes him in. He grinds against her, meeting each thrust as their hips move together in a rhythm that borders on frenzied. It feels like they've never been apart, as if this is where they belong; together and united in their desire for one another.
Her nails dig into his shoulders as she feels him moving inside her, thrusting deep and hard with each stroke, bringing them both closer to the edge of release. Her hips buck up against his, seeking deeper contact, needing more friction between them. Her breath comes in ragged gasps now, her body arching off the bed as she feels him filling her, claiming her completely. With a sharp cry, she comes hard around him, her inner walls pulsing rhythmically as he continues to thrust inside her, his movements growing rougher and more desperate. He can feel her orgasm radiating through his body, intensifying the pleasure for both of them. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders, her lips forming a silent "Yes" against his neck as she finally surrenders to the pleasure he's giving her, her body shuddering with release again and again. She collapses bonelessly on top
Her surrender is sweet agony. He thrusts harder, grinding their hips together in a desperate search for release, the taste of her filling his mouth as she cries out beneath him. Her body pulses around him, milking every drop from his overloaded cock, and with a growl that sounds more primal than human, he follows suit, shuddering through his own climax as he spills himself deep inside her.
It's silent for several long moments, their breathing harsh and uneven as they both catch their breath beneath the blanket of sweat that coats their skin. The room feels smaller somehow now that they're tangled together like this, the space around them electric with a mix of desire, lust and something else she can't quite put her finger on. Finally, she lifts her head and looks up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Good?" she rasps hoarsely, trying to sound casual despite the tremor in her voice. His answering smile feels like a slap in the face; it's slow and lazy, full of triumph and satisfaction that makes something inside her squirm with discomfort. But she can't deny the desire she feels burning hot and tight within her, the need for him that still lingers even after all these weeks apart. She forces herself to smile back,
It still feels good as it used to.
The words caress her skin like a soft touch and yet somehow sting at the same time, and she bristles beneath his gaze. She wants to deny it, to pretend that this is all meaningless and she could easily move on from him, but deep down she knows he holds some kind of power over her that goes beyond their physical connection. With a sigh, she pushes herself up onto shaky legs and winces slightly as she straightens. Her body aches in places she didn't even know were possible, and yet there's something else beneath the fatigue, a need for more that won't let her simply walk away. She turns her back to Iervan, pretending to search for something on the floor, not wanting him to see the way her breath catches in her throat when he touches her skin. "Maybe we should...take this a little slower," she says softly, trying to