Mor relinquished her wine glass easily, and gasped as he pushed her against the door frame. She was astonished, yes, but also she thought that Brooks might like it if she made sounds. Or, better, it might make him frustrated, and guilty, and then he would press her harder against the door.

She tangled one hand in his hair and tugged, because Brooks was not the only one who could make it hurt. Mor raked her other hand down his back. She was frustrated by how clothed Brooks was, but there was no way around it — she would have to hope that he could feel her nails on his back through the layers.

  

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set by Bee

Hating the need that welled up in his gut and the satisfaction at getting an audible reaction from her, Brooks pressed further against her, hands already working at the buttons of her bodice. If he was going to hell, she was coming down with him and he may as well enjoy it. The self-loathing would settle in later and he would try to talk himself out of it, try to rationalize what he'd done, but he couldn't think through it now.

The feeling of her nails down his back had him hissing out a breath against Morrigan's skin, a mixture of pain and pleasure and satisfaction all rolled into the building arousal he just couldn't fight. There had always been an inescapable magnetism here that he'd tried to dispel but never had any luck.

With the bodice out of the way and discarded on the floor, Brooks bunched up her skirts in his hands, pulling them out of the way, palms finding purchase on her thighs, bloomers still frustratingly in the way. He paused, pulling back just a little to look her in the eye. It was a small moment of rational thought, but he felt it necessary to make sure they were ready for the mutual downfall.

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Her bodice hit the floor. Morrigan tugged on his hair, trying to get sound out of him, and satisfaction welled in her chest when he balled up her skirts in his fist against the door. He met her eye, and she paused for a second, holding the gaze for a beat. She knew what he was asking — thought she knew what he was asking — and her heart thrummed.

She'd gotten a clinical explanation from her stepmother, the night before she left Brooks. She'd pried more specific details out of Dru. But she'd never actually gone there — she'd touched herself and thought about it and considered what this would have been like, being penetrated, but had never done it. And she was nervous, but —

she did not want to ask for tenderness, would not ask for tenderness.

Mor swallowed. "You want to fuck me?" she asked, voice quiet in a challenge.

  

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set by Bee

It sounded so crass when she put it like that, but he shouldn't have expected anything else.

He shouldn't want to, but he did. This was such a clusterfuck that he was trying to figure out which way was up. A Christmas present, her continually sneaking into his space, this certainly wouldn't help anything, in fact it would make things worse. It still didn't stop the feeling in the base of his gut, the heat pooling in his chest or the feeling of her body against his from winding him up.

"Yes," he had no excuse for the behavior, no good reason to give her other than, yes that was what he wanted. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away and he was tired of fighting it.

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The following 1 user Likes Brooks Watson's post:1 user Likes Brooks Watson's post
   Morrigan Selden

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Yes. Yes, he wanted her. Adrenaline and satisfaction pooled in Morrigan's gut — this hadn't been her intention, when she came here tonight. At least — she did not think it had been her intention. It was hard for Mor to pretend that she had not considered this as a possibility, as a fantasy, both in her private moments and when she showed up here.

But she had never actually expected him to fall into this like she had.

(She liked him best when he was doing something wrong.)

Mor jutted her chin forward, half to be obstinate and half to extend her neck so he could mark it more with his lips and teeth. "Then do it," she said, "And pretend you love me."

The following 1 user Likes Morrigan Selden's post:1 user Likes Morrigan Selden's post
   Brooks Watson

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set by Bee

The question of, what the fuck was he doing, was two-fold; he'd lost his mind, surely, but it had been a while since he'd indulged in something like this and never with someone he was actually familiar with. Every other time it felt almost transactional (money was exchanged) but there had been a purpose, quick and easy.

This was wildly different.

There were layers and it opened a door he wasn't sure he wanted open. But Merlin, she knew exactly what to do to get under his skin. That condescending tone to the request, "pretend you love me." As if he'd actually stopped. If he had they wouldn't be here.

That was all he needed though, that consent, to dive in again, lips rough on hers instead of the offered neck, hands back at the buttons of her dress as he pressed closer. The feeling of her body flush against his was driving him forward again and finally he had to break off to catch his breath, pulling at her clothes in earnest, trying to get his footing without fumbling. He couldn't fumble, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of it.

To buy himself some time he moved back and motioned toward the stairs with his head. He was impatient, but he wasn't about to take her on the floor of the parlor.

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Some of her layers had fallen to his floor by the time Brooks stepped back from her. She still had both layers of her petticoats, but one of her garters was hanging loose from the bottom of her corset, and she already felt pleasantly rumpled. She had to do a better job of undressing him — she'd gotten some of the buttons undone, but he was far more clothed than she was, and she wanted him to look as undone as she felt.

She held his gaze as she walked to the stairs and up them, abandoning her bodice and the top layers of her skirts in the parlor where they'd left them. She knew where his bedroom was — she'd spent a good amount of time here, over the years — and opened the door, wordless. She stopped in the doorway, turned to him.

When Brooks got close enough, Mor started undoing the buttons on his trousers.

  

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set by Bee

Brooks wasn't sure he was surprised by the fact that Mor knew exactly where his bedroom was. A little annoyed perhaps, but he was too distracted by her lack of clothing to really pay it much attention. He really was going to have to do a better job of warding the property against intruders.

Her hands at the buttons of his pants were enough to distract him from those thoughts again and he mirrored the movements, impatiently tugging at the ties of her corset. The sooner he had her out of her clothes, the better. Corset undone, he pulled it off, trying not to hurry, but too heated to really wait. His hands moved next to the ties of her skirt, shoving them down. He pushed her backward toward the bed, skirts falling as they went. Brooks ran his hands up her thighs, under the chemise and across her skin, the feeling of it nearly sending him over the edge. This was like tasting the forbidden fruit, he just knew it. But if he was going to go out with a bang, he might as well enjoy it.

Once she was in little more than her chemise and drawers, Brooks pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. He leaned down to kiss her again, lacking any sort of softness he thought he might have once used with her. Guiding her toward the bed, he pushed her back onto it and bent to undo his shoes, adding those to the growing pile. For a moment, he looked down at her, caught between indecision of following through and what to do next. He knew if he asked her if she was sure the tension would snap and the moment would be lost, so he plunged ahead, covering her body with his, hands and lips roaming freely and greedily.

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Mor liked the way his pants hung loosely at his hips once she'd gotten the buttons off. She made an impatient growling sound in the back of her throat when he pushed her towards the bed, palming at him through the layers of fabric that still separated them. Goosebumps rose on her thighs and arms, not because she was cold, but because of the feeling of Brooks' hands and body touching hers.

Mor moved her hands up to his abdomen and chest, letting her fingernails scrape against his flesh. Feeling almost mischievous, she brought her mouth to his collarbone and started to suck and bite his skin — she had a feeling that she'd have bruises the next day from him, but two could play at that game.

"I want to make you wild," Mor whispered against Brooks' skin. Maybe that was why she was doing this, as much as anything — she wanted to see him where she imagined herself, as something feral.

  

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set by Bee

He was already well on his way with her hands on him like that. He groaned against her skin as she clawed at him. She'd already left her marks on him, but at least these would fade with time. Without any idea what to say to her, Brooks was too far gone with the insanity of it all to really want to focus on it. If he kept this up, she would see just how out of his mind he was.

Brooks slid the rest of her clothes off impatiently, the feeling of her bare skin against his chest was already pushing him over the edge. "Fuck," he murmured, knowing he should slow down, but didn't have the frame of mind to do so. She wanted him to be some level of feral and he'd reached it. Once he was out of his trousers, Brooks lower himself to the mattress, one hand slipping between her legs.

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She was already wet — she wanted this just as badly as he did — and Mor couldn't repress the keening sound that rose in her throat when he finally touched her. She raised her hips so she could press harder into his hand. He was starting to make it impossible for her to affect nonchalance, to affect that she was in control even in this —

She reached for his cock and ran her fingers up and own it, a little rough, inexpert.

  

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set by Bee

Nearly jumping out of his skin at her touch, Brooks didn't have the patience to try and finesse this as much as he would have tried to in the past. She was already primed and ready to go and he knew if he let her continue, even with the lightest of touches, he wouldn't be able to last for very long. There was no ensuring mutual satisfaction, there was only a desperate race to a desperate end and though she had started it, he was going to finish it.

Rolling up to his knees, Brooks kept his hand where it was, watching the sensations cross her features for one satisfactory moment. He hated that he liked getting a rise out of her so much; that he got such a rush out of this. It had been a while since he'd indulged, but that didn't mean he was completely inept. Besides what experience did she have?

Oh, fuck.

Leaning down, hands on either side of her head now, he looked at her seriously. "Are you sure?"

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