Know When to Fold 'Em (Closed for Obuzeti)

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"You spend much time here? It's a nice room, but they're assholes. Can't imagine you sticking long."

“Sharks.” Kara agrees about The Omertas cheerfully, her hair a frothy mess of shampoo and currently styled into a mohawk. She’s scrubbing the grit and grime away with the aid of a palm sized little brush, sudsing up to ridiculous levels and filling the room with that familiar sweet but spiced scent, nutmeg or cinnamon or...it could never quite be discerned what the second part of it was over the fruity floral bit.

“They’re gangsters, seriously old school gangsters. ‘Gonna be sleeping with the fish, Kara.’ types, for real.” Like the NCR, Kara had gotten into trouble with the Omertas before making nice. Or nice-ish, anyway. “But nah...since I can’t play games here anymore, I only really come around when they want something fetched or I’m gonna be in town a while. Otherwise I’d rather just go stay at Vault 21.” The water’s too cold for her to want to stay in for long-she ducks her head under the faucet and briefly looks like a drowned rat before she slicks her hair back away from her face, water sluicing through the bubbly sud bikini that had briefly obscured her perky round breasts.

“Other than the sharks and how they do business-I just didn’t do anything to get this place, really. There’s no good story, no heist, no hard work, no secret find-nothin’, just got handed a key, a congrats, and a lifetime ban from the tables. And it’s so quiet up here, kinda…” Her tongue touches at her teeth and Kara briefly can’t pinpoint the feeling, and even if she could, she’s not sure she’d admit to it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Well,” She settles, finally-her eyes sliding to his back and glittering with mischief, a smile quirking her lips. “I can only drunkenly build so many card houses, you know.”

A shiver runs through her, and Kara pops the drain and reaches for one of the fluffy towels hanging on the rack. “I’m happy to share it though, since I do got it.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah hums in understanding, a little too distracted by shaving to give a long response, though he does say, "Well, between this lot and the Powder Gangers I suppose these ones are mildly more hospitable." Shaving with a knife requires some concentration. Once he finishes though, he takes a towel and extends it to Kara, eyes flicking over her perky body with a faint smile. Then, instead of just handing it over, he flips it over her head and rubs it around her hair, getting the worst of the dripping under control. When her face finally emerges from beneath the damp cloth, he leans in and presses a long and firm kiss to her lips, hands warm on her bare hips.

When he pulls back, the smile on Jonah's face is something no one but Kara has ever seen: crooked and fragile, precious, eyes crinkled. "That's all the fun," he agrees, and lets her go as the last of the water drains out of the tub, promptly starting to pour himself another one minus all of Kara's grime. "Now, scoot. I'm tired of feeling filthy, and I want to wash all this off."

He's not wrong; fresh out of the wash Kara looks sublime, all damp, pale, and creamy in a way that stirs him, but his own body has the faint black and brown of old dirt worked into his pores. He offers her a side-eyed smile, the curl of his grin going lazy. "We can make all the noise you want once I'm done."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara laughs before playing at a scowl, a dramatic hrmph’d noise. “Whatshisface was decisively unfriendly, yer right-Lucas got his own self killed, that wasn’t my fault- and then so did he, I suppose.”

Yep, she may have shot him-but he had brought it on himself and it didn’t bother her, not really. Her mind and memory glossed right over it, no stranger to violence. Get ‘em before they get you.

She’s nearly handed a fluffy towel before it’s dropped over her head instead, a muffled bout of surprised, delighted laughter issuing from beneath it before she can see again, vibrant eyes happy and amused as ever with any sort of (adorable) playfulness on his part.

The kiss though, that draws her attention in to a pinpoint-and Kara remembers echoing the soldier’s come on about silk sheets at him, teasing as usual. But for all of that and the dirty thoughts flitting through, its how adorable he looks, smiling down at her, happy, really happy-and for a moment the hilarious pointlessness of it all was again in doubt, and rather than manically entertained to still be alive and causing trouble, seeking whatever thrills and entertainment she can find-she’s content, and she’s looking forward to more of the same instead. More of Jonah, for all the time she can steal to be with him.

“Hmm,” Kara bops his nose, she can’t help it. “I like you.” Secret, hers.

"We can make all the noise you want once I'm done."

Kara’s eyes narrow, her softened, loving smile turning into a quirked, cocky smirk. “Is that a promise? I maybe collect on debts too, you know.” And with a wink, she left him to it, hanging up the towel to strut out of the bathroom stark naked.

~*~

Kara takes the time to brush out that red, red hair, pinning a lock or two of it up just behind and over her ear so there’d be that bit of curl to it once it dried fully. It was a practiced thing and didn’t take her much time at all, Jonah was still cleaning up-so she ventured into her closet despite having already packed a perfectly good other outfit or two for the road.

Playing around in her closets seemed to be something of an endless pastime of possibility for all she’d squirreled away in them. As mismatched and sometimes ramshackle her style choices, Kara certainly didn’t lack for clothing-she just really seemed to prefer the composite look. It was admittedly a lot more presentable than standard raider fare, but she still stood out wherever she went, and that was before opening her mouth to make a spectacle of herself.

As he walked in now though, the mouthy merc was messing around with a dress of all things, some sapphire blue, off the shoulder cocktail dress she hadn’t altered all that much, unlike most of anything else she owned or bothered with. There was quite a bit of sparkle to the slinky material, and the way it flared out from the small of her waist gave the tulled skirt a bit of movement, particularly with the asymmetrical cut of it, going from mid thigh to knee length in a slant, tulle underneath to give it some poof.

She twisted a little to see the back of it, a fluff to the tulle beneath the skirt-and then straightened to tug the bodice up a little higher up on her bare chest, frowning down at herself.

“Ya know, I’m fillin’ this out a lot better than the last time I wore it.” She notes as she smooths her hands down over her hips absently-before planting her feet and resting her fists against her hips, popping a pose and grinning at him. “Whaddya think? Foolin’ you into thinking I’m a proper, civilized lady?”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah washed himself clean, taking precious satisfaction out of it; Johann had always preached on the sanctity of water, its religious significance, and though he didn't see eye-to-eye with the old man on much his reverence for this had passed over. By the time he's free of dirt, he feels refreshed inside and out. He dries himself off and leaves the towel hanging over his shoulder as he descends the stairs again, only to run into Kara, sporting an honest-to-God cocktail dress straight out of the movie posters this had all started by. It'd make him feel underdressed even if he wasn't naked.

"Well," he says, with a blink, and takes her in as a full picture. Her hair, freshly washed, is less of a dirty crimson and more the fiery crown he remembers from their idyll in her personal Vault hideaway. The blue fabric contrasts brilliantly with it, showing off leg and shoulder and neck in a creamy display, and he honestly struggles to remember the last time he's seen such a bright contrast of colors, not faded with age or grime. It reminds him of freshly-clean stained glass, so distinct are the colors, and the memory tickles at him because the Mojave doesn't have stained glass, anywhere.

But he pushes this aside because Kara is here, and she matters.

"If civilization does not look like you," Jonah murmurs, and steps up before her, hands rising to cup her cheeks, soft and intimate, "then I'm afraid it doesn't have much to offer me."

There's such a deep contrast between them, at the moment, some freshly-dripping scar-hulk of a man, naked but for a towel, and this belle de nuit, resplendent in glittering gown and flaming hair. Yes, she looks like sex on legs, but that is not even close to the totality of the magnetic attraction Kara holds over him in this moment. She is color, and life, and heat, drawing him up out of his cold blood into a world once again fresh.

Jonah can barely manage to take his hands off her, and only manages it on account of the fact that he's still dripping water, and he doesn't want to ruin the dress.

"What's the occasion?" he asks, soft. There's a vague notion in his head that he should be doing something except just staring at her, his attention absolutely consumed. His hands haven't even really fallen, just hovering awkwardly at waist height. Like most things, he forgets it in favor of watching her.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara had been teasing. Poking fun at herself and poking fun in general, the usual obfuscation she engaged in as naturally (and nearly as often)as breathing.

But Jonah slips through and to her almost as naturally and Kara forgets to pretend, a bit of a rosy pinkish color blushing across her cheeks. She’s suddenly not unassailable at all, she just is.

“Flatterer.” Kara returns from within the frame of his hands-but her tone is soft and lacks the usual flippancy. No, she takes what he says and she takes the way he’s looking at her and she squirrels both away with the other treasured bits of-well, him, and the way he makes her feel.

There’s a soft, warm curve to her lips as he withdraws his hands and continues to stare at her-before one of Kara’s much smaller ones snag the towel from his shoulder. In the quiet her opposite hand catches at his hovering wrist-and then Kara starts drying him off, blotting her way up the muscled limb and to the attached shoulder, a little bit of a reach before the fluffy towel continues down and across his chest.

Her bright blue eyes flick back up to his face and there’s a genuine huff of a happy sort of sound, not quite a breath of a laugh but close-at her own odd way of taking care of him. But then her eyes narrow a fraction and that troublesome quirk comes to her lips, towel pausing against his chest.

“Well,” She starts, her eyes glittering mischief. “Since you were lookin’ so very dapper in your birthday suit...” The two fingers on her opposite hand ‘walked’ on the solid wall of his chest and then pressed in on him to illustrate the point. “I figured I couldn’t be outdone.”

She actually hadn’t donned it for any reason other impulse on having seen it, tugging it on for kicks-but with how he was looking at her now, she decides it had been a very good idea to put it on. She half wishes she had come up with it it was such a good idea.

Kara’s trouble. Trouble he likes, but trouble.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's mouth quirks. He doesn't flatter, and they both know it. He doesn't care enough for lying in the first place. The towel tickles across the firm planes of his chest and it shudders with internal laughter, though it doesn't come out his mouth. Instead he lifts the hand walking its way across his chest to his mouth and kisses the inside of her wrist, eyes sparkling. "I only carry around the one set of clothes, so I can't call your raise," Jonah murmurs.

Then he takes two steps forward, slow, and then a double sidestep, and lifts his hand, twirling Kara underneath with the hint of a guiding hand on her hip. The laughter in his breath bubbles as he takes her through the basic step of a foxtrot.

"I have other tricks that would have been up my sleeve, at least," he says, and with their fingers twined brings her back to him with a gentle curl, not even a pull. They don't match at all, one dressed for a ball and one not at all, but Jonah doesn't seem overly bothered by his nudity, instead fixated as completely on Kara as ever. He doesn't look at the door of the room, or at himself; he just watches her, eyes warm and mouth quirked in slow happiness. When she returns his hands slide across her body, one around the low swell of her hip and the other about her shoulder, swaying in silence, completely enraptured.

"I love you," Jonah says, soft, and for him there is no one else in the world, now or ever.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“You can dance?” What. What! Here she had been considering making up dance moves at various times in various places-Sarah’s bar, next to the vault’s jukebox, the trail-and he had known how the whole time. Moray. Moray knew dance moves. Kara is as delighted with the surprise as she is amused, following along and trying not to laugh at the wonderfully funny absurdity of their states of dress and what they were up to up here, their own little thing of theirs.

And then she’s close, warmth radiating from his much larger form, his eyes green and alive and adoring- she’d be embarrassed by the returned softness if it wasn’t so nice, a shared nice. Adventuring’s great, it’s her life’s blood sure-but this, this right here was the best thing she’s ever gotten herself into, and she’s going nowhere without it.

Fuck she’s happy. She usually is and had been since getting the hell out of the Raider scene-but this was the real kind, the kind you didn’t have to choose. It just was, bubbly and warm in some secret part of the heart. Nobody owned them. She had said so before, but they could be whatever they wanted to be out here...which is something even more serious for her to think about, given what he had said about what he didn’t want to be. But for right now and always, Kara’s confident in what they both for sure wanted to be. Together. They want to be together, and it was the mutual desire and happiness in the word that buoys her heart.

“I know.” A good secret, the best secret. “I know you do.” And it sounded as if pretty courier was marveling over the fact.

“I love you, Jonah. You’re my favorite. Of…” Of? “Everything!” She finishes with bright enthusiasm within his swaying embrace, a bubbly laugh.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah laughs, an embarrassed edge to it in how his eyes flick away for a moment, but his eyes are back on her in just a moment. It's entirely possible he's never admitted this before. "Yes, a little. There's a town, back East, called Big Town. Full of grown-up runaways, misfits. I stayed there for awhile after - everything. Got traded dance lessons in exchange for shooting a bunch of Super Mutants."

His mouth quirks uncertainly, but he doesn't look regretful, more confused than anything. "I don't know why I agreed. They did need the help though. And it was a place to stay."

Now's not the time to think about all that. He glances at Kara, and Jonah's smile turns real again, private and ephemeral. His eyes flick down her body, over her décolletage, and the awareness that she would do this just for him makes him warm inside. It's not the fiery heat of the first few times they'd coupled, but - something different. Not need, but still desire. It makes him curious. It makes Jonah want to pull Kara inside of himself, to join in a way more than just fucking; to unite, and synchronize. He feels whole.

Something hot like sunlight burbles in him, and he responds to it without thought. Jonah leans in and plants another kiss on Kara's pretty mouth, this one more insistent and challenging, then pulls back with her bottom lip trapped between his, pulling on it lightly.

"I love the dress," he murmurs, "But right now, I really want you out of it."

Nothing's driving Jonah. It's not appetite, not uncontrollable lust, or even the mind-consuming intensity that had defined him before. It's just him. And he wants Kara, to have her body next to him, to know her and be inside her and lounge in bed, feel her laughter and her smiles through his skin, and inscribe everything he feels onto her body so that she knows everything, all of this, is mutual. He loves her too.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara would have found that hilarious on its own merit-but it also resonates with her, a thing in common. She often took jobs that paid not in caps but in other, intangible things-stories, mostly. Sometimes tangible objects she found particularly hilarious to accept as ‘payment’. And sometimes, secretly, not for the pay at all. Things she would have never sought out, but can’t quite ignore once in front of her.

Kara likes this story, super mutants for dance lessons.

“I’ve heard of it and the other pockets of civilization in the capital wasteland, but never actually been to any of them.” She’d been limited to raider bases and then the ruins of places long devoid of people, snippets of stories and the occasional hand drawn, crappy map. The names mean something to her-home towns and supply outposts, occasionally targets the others planned to hit-but there’s nothing to go along with them. Not like Westside, not like Novac, not like the Strip. It occurs to Kara they had inhabited entirely different worlds in the capital wasteland, and that she had had it better, raiders or not.

The protective feelings intermingle with her warm and treasuring love, the soft pieces of her despite the dangers of it-but not here, not with him. She’s safe, and dammit, so was he.

Her fingers absently smooth over the solid wall of muscle protecting his heart and Kara doesn’t even feel the urge to chatter incessantly or...or anything really. The happy has her good.

And then he leans down to press a firm kiss to her lips, a pulse going through her at the insistence and challenge, the playfulness after. Her smoothing fingers trail up to his shoulder, heart beating faster.

“Yeah?” Kara murmurs back, the whole of her focus on him right now, caught in the insulated little bubble of theirs where not a goddamned thing outside of it could possibly matter. “Cause you know big guy, I could probably arrange that.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah hums, deep in his chest, and loops an arm around Kara's neck, then twirls her halfway around in a backwards step, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He slides to a seat there and draws the redheaded beauty up into his lap with gentle insistence, where he nuzzles into the shiny fullness of her hair with something very close to reverence.

"Don't think we're going to have a lot of chances, what's coming up," he murmurs, and leans down to press his mouth to the side of her neck - not so much more kisses as just mapping her skin with his lips, like a blind man would use his hands. The cool touch slides down the graceful column of Kara's neck. "Or a lot of space to ourselves. Seize the moment, right?"

Jonah doesn't precisely remember if she's ever said those exact words, but they sum up her lifestyle pretty damn well if he's honest. Suiting words to action, his broad hand brushes down the sleeves that keep the dress in place, baring smooth and pale skin that he brushes over, settling over Kara's navel with a possessive hand as he draws back up for another searing kiss. All the territorial growling and prowling other men do in public he reserves for in private; no one else gets to even know what's in his head.

Besides, he's been naked and ogled for minutes now. She's got catching up to do.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“What, securitrons and Chairmen don’t put you in the same mood redheads do?” Warm flirty mirth and bubbling amusement are clear in the lilt of her voice as he draws her into his lap, a slight kick of her bare feet and dainty ankles.

His lips trail down the side of her neck and leaves her skin tingling, a shiver-and Kara’s hand opposite him reaches behind her back, deft fingers catching at the zipper and drawing it down, the tightly fitting bodice loosening.

“As many of them as you can-” Kara agrees with a huff of laughter, a flicker of delight at the words because that was absolutely what she was all about, and always would be, dammit. Life was for living before somebody took it away from you-best get your money’s worth whenever and wherever you could.

The top half of the sparkling blue dress was around her hips now, the smooth skin of her shoulders exposed, the delicate line of her collarbone uninterrupted, and those pert, petal pink tipped breasts free from the compression of that tight fitting bodice. Kara has her hands on that bunched up fabric on either side of her hips, pulling it down over her pert derriere and abandoning it for her legs to kick off when he kisses her again. They were skin to skin and that still somehow wasn’t enough-one of her hands frames his face, fingers against the smooth skin of his recently shaved jaw and cheek-and then tickled by the short black hair just over his ear.

His hand is warm and large over her flat stomach, his body hard against her softer one. He’s so much bigger than she is, just a wall of muscle-she’s never been a big person, but she’s so loud she had never thought herself small either, certainly not any kind of delicate-or maybe that was just fanciful thinking, given her build. Here though, with Jonah-it's always a little exciting.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah hums in delight, but he's not interested in talking. Not at this point, with Kara's smooth, bare body already in his lap. Her skin feels like velvet against him, softer and warmer than his iron frame, and it's something he cherishes at every touch. His hand trails down from her stomach over to one long leg, and slides underneath it to lift it up in the crook of his elbow, to an angle that would be painful for Jonah himself, but she folds into bonelessly. She's so flexible - it makes his blood heat, every time, to see the shapes he can fold her into under the weight of his body. She's stretched out now across his lap, one leg hiked high, Jonah's shaft bobbing hard and hot against her inner thigh.

"I'm pretty sure that no one else puts me in the mood that you do," Jonah murmurs, as his other hand settles over the warm join of Kara's thighs, cupping her sex in a broad palm. His thumb strums over her labia in a circular motion, an invitation as much as a tease, as the arm that supports her leg sneaks up to cup a pert breast and fondle it jealously. She's so vocal it's like playing an instrument - the cute little gasps and breathy sighs he can draw from her are addicting.

"I like watching you writhe," Jonah muses, his mouth and nose pressed against Kara's cheek, as he deftly plays with her nubile body. "I like knowing that it's me this is for. No one else."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"I'm pretty sure that no one else puts me in the mood that you do,"

“I’m real sneaky like that-” Kara’s cocky huff of laughter catches in a sharp sudden intake of air as the roughened, warm skin of his palm touches against the heat of her, a slight bob of the captured leg that has her open to him.

She’s always so sensitive, or he has her sensitive, or-she doesn’t know, but she wants more. She always gets to wanting more when he’s involved, real bad. She’s not sure how he does it, steals her attention away like that-magic. Magic that makes Kara squirm in his lap and against him, the petite courier pressing into either hand and trying to be closer some impossible how-a ripple of movement to her breasts as her shoulders draw back a little and she leans into his touch.

His lips brush against her cheek as he speaks, the slight brush of color to them darkening to a proper bloom of pink.

“Nooo one else.” Kara repeats, turning her head to try and catch those lips with hers. Want, want, want-she wants. And she loves. And she maybe needs.

Kara still has one hand to his shoulder, the other sliding down his chest and then her own stomach, the top of her uncaptured thigh. “Only want-only want to be with you.” Just his. She only wants to be Jonah’s, and no one else’s.

Kara’s fingers trail from the smooth skin of her pale thigh to the silky skin of him, spiraling down the length of him. And she only wants him to be hers too.

 

[Obuzeti]

"You're sneaky," Jonah agrees, dark amusement rumbling in the husky undertones of his voice. "But I'm focused. So what happens is you start things, and then I get interested enough to finish them."

Her dainty hand seals around his shaft, and Jonah rocks forward into her grip as she strokes down his length. They've spent weeks on the road, now, and their freshly-washed bodies are a welcome change from the dirt and grit of the last two weeks. It causes sparks in his brain, and before he can quite process it his fingers spread and slide between her lower lips, two fingers pushing in deep and curling. He doesn't so much thrust as curve them in, and his hips press against the taut curve of Kara's ass, his hard shaft bobbing underneath busy fingers.

"When you start dripping, I'm going to bend you over this bed and fuck you until you scream," Jonah states, voice flat and casual, absolutely intent. He's not blinking anymore, staring down at Kara's flushed neck and the slight bounce and jiggle of her breasts, the curve of her smile on the slice of her face he can see under that fire-red hair. It's phenomenal and erotic and his, and his head goes fuzzy and a steady growl starts to rumble in his chest, the webbed and corded muscles that make up Jonah tensing like steel cable under the damp skin.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“I get interested enough to finish them."

The rumble to his voice only adds to the heavy meaning in his words, tingles prickling the skin at the nape of her neck. His hips shift forward at her touch and the instinctive response sends a thrill of mischievous delight through her. Before she can stir up more trouble he ups the ante-and Kara’s eyes widen with a gasped sort of squeak and an involuntary jerk of her hips as his fingers push into her.

Her already slickened walls convulse around the digits, tight, maybe a little tighter from surprise-and then he curls them inward, pressing against the roof of her sex where pressure meant everything, sometimes. That squeak and gasp melt into a low sort of noise, those Caribbean blue eyes glazing over a little with a keening, wordless noise of arousal.

"When you start dripping, I'm going to bend you over this bed and fuck you until you scream,"

Normally that would have deepened the color to her face and widened her eyes-and instead it just earns him a near challenging “You promise?” pant. When he talks like that, fuck-she can’t sit still, she can never sit still, and especially not perched on his lap, her shoulder to his hard chest and his fingers curled into and against her, throbbing shaft captured in her fingers, barely- the head of which coming into contact with the soft creamy skin of Kara’s thigh as she rocked into his hand and pressed kisses anywhere on him she could reach.

Her free hand had drifted to her other breast on it's own accord, palming the soft globe and her fingers pressing into the soft flesh, rosy pink nipple pebbled against her palm.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's fingers arch up inside Kara a few more times, as his thumb dips to search under and press up against her pearl, smoothing over it in gentle whorls. He keeps it up, his lips pressing butterfly kisses against her neck, until he feels the trembles in her thighs start. His digits are wet by now, and he draws them out and trails them up this nymph's body until he takes hold of her shoulder. Then, he lifts her up, almost casually, cradling her leg and her arm and turns to lay her face down over the bed. Underneath him, she feels even tinier than normal - body flushed and damp, face red and panting, legs trembling.

"I promise," Jonah murmurs, and runs his hands up the smooth arch of her back, all flawless and pale skin to contrast with the tough calluses of his palms. When he comes to her shoulders, he caresses his way back down Kara's arms - and then, with deliberate pacing, pulls her hands behind her back. He doesn't hold them; just places a hand where her wrists cross, warm and weighty.

He has to crouch slightly to do it, because of how different their sizes are, but his shaft slides against the soft curves of Kara's cheeks. "Spread your legs," Jonah says, and his voice is downright gutteral now, skittering over his vocal cords like gravel, dark clicks in his throat. His teeth are bared, and his other hand reaches for and takes a tight grip of one cheek, pulling it wide to bare her sex, Kara's arousal glimmering in between the slick lips.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Oh, damn.

Oh, damn.

He nearly undoes her right there-his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves on both the inside and outside of her, Kara losing all focus on anything else as he drives her closer to the precipice, teeth pressing into her bottom lip before she gasps to breathe.

She’s sorry when he stops, but only just-because he had promised, and whenever he says he’s going to do something Kara wants him to do it, she wants him to do it bad, and the thrill of that has her breath catching as much as the feel of his fingers inside of her moments before.

There’s luxurious silk against her bare and tingling chest and Jonah’s hands smoothing over her back-before the trace over her arms and pull them behind her back, one of his large hands settled around her wrists. Kara liked that. She liked that more than she thought she would have liked that, an arch of her back that incidentally angled her hips and presented that pert, perfect ass of hers.

It’s the real fun, now-and she wants him so bad she can barely breathe, the silk sheets and the heat of his hands and the heat of him behind her, the sound of his voice-instinctive and guttural and utterly unrelenting. She huffs an almost laugh but she’s squirming beneath him and against those silk sheets, wet, really wet, and on the verge of begging him for exactly what he promised.

She spread her knees and turned her head to see him, a fluff of fiery red hair in a shallow exhale, her tongue at the corner of and touching her upper lip. “You promised-”

 

[Obuzeti]

"Yes," Jonah murmurs, half acknowledgement and half want, and then pulls back just enough to let his stiff cock slide down between Kara's legs and press against her lower lips. Then he presses forward smoothly, the broad head sliding between and in and in, velvet-steel inches sliding smoothly into a wet, warm grip that ripples along him in hungry welcome. He pushes in until his hips press against Kara's and his shaft buried all the way within her. His hips roll once against her firm ass, drawing their linked bodies in an undulating, slow circle as Jonah takes in the sweet sensation of Kara's sex quivering along his length.

Then he slides back, half his shaft pulling back out of her warmth, and slaps back in, a firm pump that bounces her taut cheeks off his flat pelvis. The shock of impact rocks her into the bed, and Jonah grunts, deep and low at the sensation as she takes him in.

Then again, a hot slap of flesh as he drives his hips against Kara's upraised ass, penetrating her to the hilt and mashing her into the bed underneath him, compressed between coverlets and a rock-hard body thrusting into her.

Then again, and Jonah's hands slide up - one still pressing down over her crossed wrists, the other curling into the red mane of her hair, gently fisting and holding Kara's head down, not pulling but pinning her in place as he starts to really fuck her, hips now rolling in steady slaps as he pumps his hips against hers, every firm thrust bouncing her against the coiled springs of the bed Kara's thighs are pressed against.

"Shut up and let me fuck you," Jonah growls, leaning down to drip the grinding undertone right in her ear. He's hunched over her body now, pounding into her body with steady strokes. "I only want to hear it when you come."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara’s almost relieved when he finally enters her, a hissing exhale as her inner walls flutter around the smooth, lubricated penetration. There’s that familiar feeling of being too tight initially, the somehow delicious and quiver inducing near discomfort that has her slightly wiggle her hips before he slides fully home and takes control.

Her body adjusts to the intrusion but she’s still tight, and on her front like this he’s pressing right where she likes, right where she wants- “Oh, Jonah-” It’d only been two weeks, but it might as well have been two months-it felt like forever. It was forever-and as he slid back out she squirmed-only for a sharp little feminine sound when he thrusts back into her, drives her entire body into the mattress.

And again. And then again, the spitfire pulling at her hands and panting beneath him, his hard, sweat slicked body against her back, knees digging into the side of the mattress as she tried to find purchase somehow, press back into him despite being near crushed between his body and the coiled springs.

Yes, she had missed him.

And then he started to fuck her in earnest, his fingers tangled into her hair, body pinning her in place so that she had nowhere to go, nothing to do but to take each hard thrust and bouncing impact of his hips, her distress tinged, feminine keening utterances increasing in pitch even as he growls into her ear to let him do exactly what he was doing, exactly as he had promised-but she doesn’t know how to shut up or sit still, how to just be quiet-nor does she have the brainpower or focus to attempt it. Not with all the sensory overload going on-silk against her naked, pressed flat chest, his fingers fisted in her hair, other hand heavy against her wrists, the bottom of his cock rubbing heat and friction against the roof of her sex and making her clit tingle with electric sparks-and the head of him impacting deep within her, half at what felt like the pit of her stomach with every thrust that bottomed out.

Honestly, it was doubtful Kara even noticed all the nonsensical syllables that spilled from her lips as he rode her hard, his petite partner hardly aware of the muffled sounds of pleasure tumbling onto the mattress and silk coverings her face and lips were pressed into.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah laughs, low and vicious, and pulls just hard enough on that red hair to arch Kara's back. His mouth briefly seals over the crook of her neck, tongue laving over her delicate skin before he pulls back. "Yes, please do," he says, hoarse, and keeps slamming his shaft deep into her pinned body; her pert little ass bouncing off his hips as he pounds against her heart-shaped rear, filling her with hard cock over and over. There's nothing she can do, or will do, but take it, and the power is dizzying. The hand Jonah has on her wrists doesn't squeeze or hold down, but she keeps her arms crossed like he'd tied them there. His thumb strokes over the pale underside of her forearm.

"I want to hear you," he snarls. Kara's body is drawn tight as a bowstring against and underneath him, and his pace is becoming frantic, pumping his length deep into her repeatedly - he hadn't meant to go so hard or so fast, but fuck it, he wanted her and he'd take her, and she could live with it until he was done with her. "Understand me? Make me know it when you come!"

He's going to fuck her right here, like this, until she comes spasming and shrieking on his cock.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

It’s a laugh that sends a thrill of almost but not quite alarm down her spine, the rabbit instincts of prey rather than predator as he tries to fuck her through the mattress and maybe even the floor-

The reassurance of his mouth to her throat, the stroke of his thumb along her skin-it blends reverence with dominance in the hard fuck that was almost hurting her-and driving her absolutely out of her mind. She can’t breathe or think straight, can’t form words anymore, her small hands fisted tightly enough her nails were digging into her palms-every hit has her spasming around him as jolts of pleasure spark in the roof of her sex and the outer button not even being touched.

The slickened walls tighten a little more, and a little more, and a little more-the wordless little feminine sounds were as fast as he was and her skin flushed seemingly everywhere. She’s on fire and she was going to die it was all too much, all too good-

"I want to hear you,"

Fire, fire, fire, fire-her distressed sounds of arousal were so rapid they hardly counted as separate anymore. The woman sounded damn near on the edge of hyperventilating, and was impossibly tight around him, every vein and ridge of him that much more stimulation.

"Understand me? Make me know it when you come!"

Kara would have complied with just about any damned thing he demanded, promised the moon or a first born child, anything-especially pinned between down like she was, being driven hard to the edge like this-but when her vocalizations cut into a high pitched, unrestrained scream-that was all unbidden, mind blown pleasure rather than compliance as Kara orgasmed harder than she ever had, ever, in all of their tumbled trysts and couplings-every muscle locked and rigid and her sex spasming around him.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah makes a noise between a garbled grunt and a hiss as Kara explodes into spasms on his shaft, her body bucking into a trembling climax under him, and yet still not moving her hands, bound to his will even as she convulses in orgasm. The knowledge of this, the trust in this, sears through Jonah like flame and he barely manages two more thrusts before her gripping sex pulls his own end out of him. The tightness swallows him hungrily, taking every bit of him in that it can, and long seconds pass as he spurts deep into Kara, locked at the hips with her and emptying what feels like his entire soul into her depths.

When he's done, Jonah almost slumps off, releasing her wrists and drawing out to roll onto his side, inhaling deeply for air, sweat glimmering on his skin in a way even a fight for his life doesn't match. There's dampness on his thighs, and he doesn't know which one of them it belongs to - they'd both come like wild animals, there. Fucking intense.

Jonah huffs a laugh, and reaches over to grab Kara's shoulder and roll her against his side, unreasonably and affectionately wanting the contact. He doesn't manage any words yet, and instead just turns his head to press his lips to her forehead, and then over a fluttering eyelid; just scattering little lip presses over her face instead of doing anything deliberate. His brain is still sparking, all the neurons not connecting properly.

He lets out a long, shaky exhale, glances over at Kara, and offers his best at the moment: a wide, expressive shrug, with a faint, incredulous smile on his face.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara was just a limp, mindless thing, left panting and trembling a little even as he rolled off to the side-small aftershocks in the wake of her orgasm, and skin tingling everywhere. Even as he snags and pulls her into him, those vivid blue eyes are dazed from the fireworks.

And then she breathes some kind of a laugh as he presses the fourth light kiss to her face, her hand slipping across his chest, pulling herself in even closer.

“You…” She’s still trying to catch her breath, wide eyed but mirthful. “Musta really liked that dress.” A breathless bit of laughter as she collapses back into him and the bed, dizzied by the intensity of what had just happened. “Wow.” She needs another bath-who would have guessed they’d get so clean just to get so dirty?

Kara nearly chokes on the thought, finding it nothing short of hilarious. The back of her shoulder was propped up against his side, bare chest and flushed pink form on full and shameless display, those large blue eyes on the ceiling as she catches her breath, fiery hair a mushed and attractive mess. Her small hand finds his larger one, and Kara threads her fingers through his before drawing it up to kiss the back of it.

“Just, wow.”

 

[Obuzeti]

"The dress," Jonah murmurs, "is icing. I'll take it, but I still want the cake first and foremost."

His thumb rubs over her knuckles, and his other arm wraps around her shoulders. Her bare skin presses against him, delicious, but not sexual anymore; it feels like the skin and the space between them is dissolving, like they're coming closer into a single life and a single body that's perfectly satisfied with what it's chosen to be. It's greater than happiness, it is fulfillment, and Jonah basks in it as he leans his forehead against Kara's.

"I want you," he says, soft, eyes closed as he smiles against her cheek. "I want your body. I want to hear your laughter. I want to see you smile. I want to feel your heat at my back for all of my days. I want to know your thoughts and be surprised by new ones. I want to find new places and new things just so I can share them with you."

His hand squeezes hers. "Everything. Always. I love you, Kara."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

He pulls her into him and the two of them curl there together, her free hand caught between their chests, the strong and steady beat of his heart against the back of it. It occurs to her she could stay here, right here like this, forever. The the lack of boredom isn’t quite novel anymore, but the contentment remains markedly different from anything else Kara’s ever really known before. The warm buoying feelings of love and warmth and treasuring while being treasured-well, she hadn’t known she could feel any of that. That she’d want it.

That she'd ever have it.

And she does want it. Listening to the sound of his voice, the mirrored contentment and love in it...

“Don’t go and make me cry again.” Kara murmurs, barely more than a whisper. There’s a content, warm curve to her lips as her fingers smooth over his skin in absent, small little circles. Things are fun, but mostly-they’re happy. She’s happy.

The real kind.

“...you’re not really a score at all, huh Jonah?” His eyes are closed and she studies the dark lashes, fingers tracing over the side of his face now, gentle and caring. “More like...a gift. A gift of yourself.” Yeah. Free and with no demands, no dealings, no trades and power plays-just him. Just Jonah, for as much or as long as she wanted him.

Hers.

And he loves her. He loves her, for real, for her, for always-only her.

“We’re kinda living for each other, ya know? Loving you and...and being loved by you...it’s just, you know, it’s just that-well, you’re enough for me. I love you, Jonah. You’re all I want.” Her throat feels a little tight and she’s not so sure she wasn’t going to cry again.

“Ha-” Her fingertips trace over his lips before she presses her own to them, stays with her forehead to his forehead, stays close and together and secret.

Another breath of a laugh, eyes misted but that bit of mischief to her mouth, the familiar lilt of her smirk. “The Mojave will probably thank you for your service.”

And she does laugh, then.