"Good girl," He murmurs, right in her ear as she does as she's told. It's surprising, how quickly she does it, how obedient she is to the command, but he makes nothing of it. In fact, just those two words are enough, fingers roughly fucking her while his teeth catch at the lobe of her ear, a sharp nip.
He presses a little closer, grinding his cock into her hip, just to try and ease some of the ache. Maker he wants to bury himself in her, fuck her raw, but he has control, he can hold that back. At least, for the moment.
At least while his fingers sink into her, slipping in easily, his thumb brushing once more across her clit, toying with it. The whimpers, soft and subtle, drive him absolutely wild. She's so loud, always the noisest person in any one place, always drawing all attention to her, to have her here, in front of the open door, naked, legs spread, breasts out and heaving, it does something to him he can't deny. He can't help but nip again at her shoulder, in lieu of everything else he could be getting his mouth on.
Those two words make her shiver and let out a tiny sound in his ear, a heartbreakingly fragile little thing that breaks off into a series of soft, wordless moans. Maker, from his fingers fucking her open to the nip at her ear, the way he grinds against her, she's hungry for him already, hips rocking in little jerks against his rough fingers.
Then he touches her sensitive little clit again, and it's all she can do to just toss her head and force out the softest cry of pleasure, the wanton feeling of it sounding vulnerable and needy when so very small. It goes nicely with the way she shudders when he bites her, sagging in his grip as her knees go weak.
The grip on her wrists has relaxed, only keeping her arms above her head at this point but as soon as she slumps, the hold is there again, to keep her against the wall, to keep her upright.
She is so wet, trembling slightly under his fingers, he can feel her clit throb for him and it's intoxicating. The softest noises, the desire in her forced out in such a pathetic little cry. Fuck, it's almost too much. His cock is so hard for her, he wants to sink in to her cunt, fill her, hold her against him like he did before. And he wants her to whimper as he comes in her.
"I'm going to fuck you, Hawke. Fuck that wet little cunt. I know you want me to. I can feel how much you want it."
And with that he pulls his fingers from her, from her clit, swollen with need. He pulls his cock free, stroking the lenght of it, breath a little ragged before he fucks into her, fingers closing on her hip. He should pick her up, let her slide down into his cock and pound her agains the wall. He should, despite the fact it leaves her hands free. But at this point she seems so desperate to be fucked he's going to risk it.
He grabs her thighs, lifts her and grinds his cock into her, almost growling at the heat of her around him.
The filth coming out of his mouth is so unexpected that she just gasps silently, cunt aching under a sudden tide of want. She hisses in displeasure at the loss of his fingers but there's no time to dwell. His cock is out, magnificent and gorgeous, and before she has time to think he's pushing inside her.
That first stroke makes her whine high in her throat, a bit louder than the sounds of before. The angle is all wrong, too shallow: bad for deep fucking but perfect for driving her absolutely wild. It's almost a relief when he picks her up. She slides down his cock with a low, lusty moan and wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and holds onto him tight. At the growl, deep and wonderful, she fists a hand in his hair and groans, "Oh, fuck"
Wait.
Her eyes snap open and she rears back a little, looking at him with a smile. Her voice is still faint, still coming back to her, but she manages a quiet, "Maker, that took forever."
If there was any doubt at all, any moment where Cullen was concerned that the aching lust in him was not returned in equal measure, the way she holds onto him dispelled it. She doesn't try to wriggle away or punch but holds onto him for dear life and there is barely a better way she could say please yes than this.
He fucks into her as she devours him, the fingers in his hair making him buck harder. He wants to make her groan and whimper and shiver, to mewl hopelessly as he uses her.
And then she speaks. He thought the silence would last longer.
"Did I ask you to speak, slut? I don't have a use for your mouth right now."
This time the Silence is less powerful, there's no fear in it or panic. He sees it sap her voice away again and fucks into her harder, using the wetness of her cunt to push deeper into her. And then when he's all the,way in, as deep as he can be, the movements become lazy, rocking of his hips, letting her feel that stretch.
"What the fu-" Her angry outburst ends too soon; she gasps raggedly like the air is being ripped from her lungs, and the rush of cold flooding her tells her that her magic is gone again.
The son of a bitch Silenced her again. Called her a slut then Silenced her.
Marian gapes in outrage for a moment, before the slow slide of Cullen's cock draws another soft whimper from her. It just pisses her off; that little noise didn't sound angry, or outraged, or strong. It was a delicate, weak, soft thing. So is the one that comes next, pulled out by is slow push and the intoxicating stretch inside her.
It feels incredible, and part of her wants nothing more than to enjoy it, but she's mostly furious. That he could insult her, violate her with that Silence for no good reason, then lazily fuck her like nothing was wrong makes her temper flaring. With a faint, frustrated grunt, she does the only thing she can: fists a hand in Cullen's hair and yanks with all her strength.
The tug on his hair is hard and it hurts. It hurts enough for him to grit his teeth against the desire to curse. Control. It's the thing he has and she does not. He bites again, hard on her shoulder, until her hold on his hair relaxes.
It's only then he starts to move, cock throbbing as he picks up the pace, the thrusts deep into her, keeping his mouth on her shoulder, on her neck, leaving bright welts in his wake.
She feels so good, hot and tight around him, the noises small and broken. He,wants more of those noises, and despite how angry she might be with him, her legs are still tight around his hips and her cunt still wet.
"Don't pretend this isn't what you want, slut. You want to be fucked, you want to come with my cock in you like you did before. Of course you do. That's what you've wanted since I got here."
To her credit, she tries. She tries to yank his hair so hard she might just rip his head off. She tries to push him away. She even tries to squirm her legs away from his grip. But he's so much stronger than her that it's practically pointless, and soon it all becomes moot. Marian has never understood how, but when someone - anyone - bites into her shoulder like that... after a few seconds the tension drains from her, the strength, and she goes boneless in his arms, the hand in his hair falling away limply. His reward is her keening softly, long and low and helpless.
It pisses her off. She's still angry, she still wants to shove him away and scream, but she can't. She's helpless to do anything but sink into his grip and let him fuck her, let him draw out faint whimpers and tiny little moans that barely pass her lips. All she can do is squirm under his hateful words, turning her face away as if she could hide from what he's doing to her.
But there's no hiding the soft whine that slips out, or the flush in her cheeks.
The way she moves is maddening. Yes she struggling, vaguely fighting but there is no real effort to it, no drive. It just buries his cock deeper into her, makes him throb. The fighting ebbs soon though, leaving her just holding onto him again, just. But his grip on her stays tight, holding her to him, and the bite becomes a series of kisses over that tender red mark.
But the way his cock pounds into her doesn't let up, fast and wicked into her cunt. It feels so good, just as before but all the more intense for the ruined whimpers and groans.
He can't keep this up much longer, not with the way his balls ache. The blush on her face drives him onwards, the trusts growing to an almost frenzied pace.
The pace picks up and so does her strength, weak and cold as she feels under the Silence. Her hands wind tight around his neck again - more for something to hold onto than out of any real tenderness - and cards fingers into his hair, gripping tight for anchor and just to make him ache. Every kiss over a tender bite mark stings, drawing another heartbreakingly soft whimper from her.
But it's his cock that drives her wild. The relentless pace soon has her writhing against him, clawing at his back, locking her legs behind his waist. Every time she opens her mouth it's to cry out her pleasure, but sound only comes out about half the time- and even then, what sound she can manage is faint and ruined. If she had her voice she'd be near to screaming right now, and she looks like it, but as it is she can only helplessly mewl like a kitten as he fucks her.
And there, that's it. The nails that score down his back, through the layers he's still wearing, sends a hot bolt through him. She loves this, wicked filthy thing that she is, she wants more.
His breath is harsh now in her ear, as he gets close.
"See why I have to keep you quiet? That door's wide open. Do you want your neighbours to hear? Do you want them thinking you'll fuck any man that comes to your door?"
He fucks into her again, harder this time, lets his grip shift to her ass, grabbing hold of her cheeks. It's a gorgeous ass, round and firm in his hands, and he can't help but squeeze as he pounds into her.
"Next time," He says, nipping at her ear, "Next time I'm going to have you from behind. Press that beautiful face into the wall. Make sure you can't make any noise at all when I fuck your ass."
His words send a surge of heat through her, and she has something to say about it, but once again when she opens her mouth all that comes out is the softest, faintest little whimper.
So she makes another achingly tiny sound and bucks against him as much as she can, tightening a hand painfully in his hair and shuddering at the thought of the wicked things he wants to do to her. She's getting close too, though perhaps not as close as he, and she seems aware of the effect she has on him when she leans in close to press a harsh, sucking, biting kiss to his throat and whine softly against his skin.
Now the harsh grip in his hair and the bite, that's what he expects from Marian Hawke. He likes the cowed, broken groans and the whimpers that tumble from her lips in lieu of groans and screams. But the bite especially makes fore burst into life through his veins, makes his cock and balls throb harder than before.
He should resist it, the waves that go through him as he bucks into her again. But why? Why should he hold back from taking what he wants? So he let's go, sinking in to her well-used cunt again and spilling inside her, hissing out a curse as he does so.
"Bad girl." He breathes, voice rough. "Should I even let you come?"
He doesn't stop though, his hips still rocking into her, the pace slower but still deep, at least for the moment.
Those last savage thrusts draw ruined whimpers from her, and more harsh kisses to his throat- but when he speaks, she draws back and looks at him- really looks. Her eyes are lidded with lust, cheeks flushed pink, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. He's still moving inside her and her lips part on a tiny, pitiful mewl of pleasure that doesn't at all reflect the screaming desire inside.
Her mouth works silently, frustrated as her hands work in his hair, gripping the back of his neck. Only one in three attempts actually has her making noise, and those soft and broken, but it's clear how emphatic she is on this. She needs to come.
She's a complete mess, and he didn't appreciate before how much of a turn on that is. Lips swollen and wet, flushed, her hair all over the place, sticking to her brow and her cheeks. The very fact she can't voice how much she wants her orgasm does terrible things to him, stirring him all over again, and he almost wants to pull out now, leave her wanting and desperate, but he can't be that cruel to her. Not when her fingers are knotted so tightly in his hair.
So he fucks into her again, with renewed vigour, his own hands grasping her ass again, nails biting into the round flesh.
"Come then." He grunts, "Show me how much you liked getting fucked with the whole of Hightown watching."
She gasps raggedly and clutches at him, one arm gripping around his shoulders so tight it has to hurt, but Hawke is so very far from caring about that. No, all she cares about is his cock inside her, the velvet voice snarling filth in her ear, the stubble rasping at her cheek and his strong hands on her. Maker, it feels so good- clinging like a limpet with one arm, she snakes the other hand between their bodies to touch herself, fingers making light quick circles around her clit. That last little burst of feeling pushes her over the edge: she arches her back and clamps her legs around him like a vise as she comes hard around his cock, making a shivering, mewling cry, ruined and pitiful, into his ear.
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He presses a little closer, grinding his cock into her hip, just to try and ease some of the ache. Maker he wants to bury himself in her, fuck her raw, but he has control, he can hold that back. At least, for the moment.
At least while his fingers sink into her, slipping in easily, his thumb brushing once more across her clit, toying with it. The whimpers, soft and subtle, drive him absolutely wild. She's so loud, always the noisest person in any one place, always drawing all attention to her, to have her here, in front of the open door, naked, legs spread, breasts out and heaving, it does something to him he can't deny. He can't help but nip again at her shoulder, in lieu of everything else he could be getting his mouth on.
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Then he touches her sensitive little clit again, and it's all she can do to just toss her head and force out the softest cry of pleasure, the wanton feeling of it sounding vulnerable and needy when so very small. It goes nicely with the way she shudders when he bites her, sagging in his grip as her knees go weak.
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She is so wet, trembling slightly under his fingers, he can feel her clit throb for him and it's intoxicating. The softest noises, the desire in her forced out in such a pathetic little cry. Fuck, it's almost too much. His cock is so hard for her, he wants to sink in to her cunt, fill her, hold her against him like he did before. And he wants her to whimper as he comes in her.
"I'm going to fuck you, Hawke. Fuck that wet little cunt. I know you want me to. I can feel how much you want it."
And with that he pulls his fingers from her, from her clit, swollen with need. He pulls his cock free, stroking the lenght of it, breath a little ragged before he fucks into her, fingers closing on her hip. He should pick her up, let her slide down into his cock and pound her agains the wall. He should, despite the fact it leaves her hands free. But at this point she seems so desperate to be fucked he's going to risk it.
He grabs her thighs, lifts her and grinds his cock into her, almost growling at the heat of her around him.
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That first stroke makes her whine high in her throat, a bit louder than the sounds of before. The angle is all wrong, too shallow: bad for deep fucking but perfect for driving her absolutely wild. It's almost a relief when he picks her up. She slides down his cock with a low, lusty moan and wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and holds onto him tight. At the growl, deep and wonderful, she fists a hand in his hair and groans, "Oh, fuck"
Wait.
Her eyes snap open and she rears back a little, looking at him with a smile. Her voice is still faint, still coming back to her, but she manages a quiet, "Maker, that took forever."
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He fucks into her as she devours him, the fingers in his hair making him buck harder. He wants to make her groan and whimper and shiver, to mewl hopelessly as he uses her.
And then she speaks. He thought the silence would last longer.
"Did I ask you to speak, slut? I don't have a use for your mouth right now."
This time the Silence is less powerful, there's no fear in it or panic. He sees it sap her voice away again and fucks into her harder, using the wetness of her cunt to push deeper into her. And then when he's all the,way in, as deep as he can be, the movements become lazy, rocking of his hips, letting her feel that stretch.
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The son of a bitch Silenced her again. Called her a slut then Silenced her.
Marian gapes in outrage for a moment, before the slow slide of Cullen's cock draws another soft whimper from her. It just pisses her off; that little noise didn't sound angry, or outraged, or strong. It was a delicate, weak, soft thing. So is the one that comes next, pulled out by is slow push and the intoxicating stretch inside her.
It feels incredible, and part of her wants nothing more than to enjoy it, but she's mostly furious. That he could insult her, violate her with that Silence for no good reason, then lazily fuck her like nothing was wrong makes her temper flaring. With a faint, frustrated grunt, she does the only thing she can: fists a hand in Cullen's hair and yanks with all her strength.
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It's only then he starts to move, cock throbbing as he picks up the pace, the thrusts deep into her, keeping his mouth on her shoulder, on her neck, leaving bright welts in his wake.
She feels so good, hot and tight around him, the noises small and broken. He,wants more of those noises, and despite how angry she might be with him, her legs are still tight around his hips and her cunt still wet.
"Don't pretend this isn't what you want, slut. You want to be fucked, you want to come with my cock in you like you did before. Of course you do. That's what you've wanted since I got here."
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It pisses her off. She's still angry, she still wants to shove him away and scream, but she can't. She's helpless to do anything but sink into his grip and let him fuck her, let him draw out faint whimpers and tiny little moans that barely pass her lips. All she can do is squirm under his hateful words, turning her face away as if she could hide from what he's doing to her.
But there's no hiding the soft whine that slips out, or the flush in her cheeks.
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But the way his cock pounds into her doesn't let up, fast and wicked into her cunt. It feels so good, just as before but all the more intense for the ruined whimpers and groans.
He can't keep this up much longer, not with the way his balls ache. The blush on her face drives him onwards, the trusts growing to an almost frenzied pace.
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But it's his cock that drives her wild. The relentless pace soon has her writhing against him, clawing at his back, locking her legs behind his waist. Every time she opens her mouth it's to cry out her pleasure, but sound only comes out about half the time- and even then, what sound she can manage is faint and ruined. If she had her voice she'd be near to screaming right now, and she looks like it, but as it is she can only helplessly mewl like a kitten as he fucks her.
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His breath is harsh now in her ear, as he gets close.
"See why I have to keep you quiet? That door's wide open. Do you want your neighbours to hear? Do you want them thinking you'll fuck any man that comes to your door?"
He fucks into her again, harder this time, lets his grip shift to her ass, grabbing hold of her cheeks. It's a gorgeous ass, round and firm in his hands, and he can't help but squeeze as he pounds into her.
"Next time," He says, nipping at her ear, "Next time I'm going to have you from behind. Press that beautiful face into the wall. Make sure you can't make any noise at all when I fuck your ass."
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So she makes another achingly tiny sound and bucks against him as much as she can, tightening a hand painfully in his hair and shuddering at the thought of the wicked things he wants to do to her. She's getting close too, though perhaps not as close as he, and she seems aware of the effect she has on him when she leans in close to press a harsh, sucking, biting kiss to his throat and whine softly against his skin.
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He should resist it, the waves that go through him as he bucks into her again. But why? Why should he hold back from taking what he wants? So he let's go, sinking in to her well-used cunt again and spilling inside her, hissing out a curse as he does so.
"Bad girl." He breathes, voice rough. "Should I even let you come?"
He doesn't stop though, his hips still rocking into her, the pace slower but still deep, at least for the moment.
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Her mouth works silently, frustrated as her hands work in his hair, gripping the back of his neck. Only one in three attempts actually has her making noise, and those soft and broken, but it's clear how emphatic she is on this. She needs to come.
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So he fucks into her again, with renewed vigour, his own hands grasping her ass again, nails biting into the round flesh.
"Come then." He grunts, "Show me how much you liked getting fucked with the whole of Hightown watching."
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