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Valentine’s Evening || iamthefirechild
Her eyes crinkled with the depth of her smile. Hands carefully to either side of the arc reactor, she slid over onto his body, dipping her head to lick at a collarbone. He was so hard she didn’t need her hands to guide them together. A moment of concentration, eyelids flickering and tongue poking out, and then she settled their hips together, rocking slightly from side to side.Something between a whimper and a moan escaped her, carrying his name on a breath of sound. She stayed there, kneeling over him, for a long moment. “May I?” One hand lifted, brushed at his temple. “Want you to feel this too.” There was something reverent in her voice.
A slow breath escaped, partially relief, partially diminishing impatience, and partially ‘yeeees.’ His hips jerked up once, then twice, before he reined himself in and fell still again, his fingers curling and uncurling around the tie (at least what he could get at of it).
Her question gave him pause, just for a moment, hands going lax. He didn’t fancy letting people into his head, if it wasn’t imperative. It was nothing personal; it was nothing against her. It just…wasn’t something he liked to have happen. Despite that, he found himself saying, one side of his mouth quirking up, “Sure. Go ahead.”
Summer found his crooked smile irresistable. She’d come to know that it meant he was feeling romantic, and a little embarrassed about that. Rocking forward, she kissed the corner of his mouth, and just let what few barriers remained between them open up, like a flower. There was such /depth/ to Tony.
“Now.” She lifted her head enough to touch her forehead to Tony’s, and slid her hips forward, eyes going hazy at the drag, and back, and again. Slow. She loved slow, relished the infinite tease of sensation that was like falling upward. Blended with what Tony felt … well, the slow build made the eventual climax feel like a tsunami.
She dragged in a deep breath and looked up at the tie, taut around his wrists, and forced just enough focus to burn a line through the knots, before dropping back and shoving her hips down hard in tandem with an equally hard kiss.
Valentine’s Evening || iamthefirechild
By the time he stopped, Summer’s mouth hung open a little, and she had to swallow hard. “God, Tony,” she breathed. Her face was very flushed. “Well. If you want all that, you’ll have to earn it.” She didn’t manage stern very well over the rasp in her voice.She slid up to stretch full length beside him, claiming a lengthy kiss even as one hand began on the first of the things he’d described. The other worked at the knot of the tie for a moment before she gave up. “You have to — ” she stopped to kiss him again, ” — have to beg. Ask me. Say please.”
Tony paid her brief tugging at the tie no mind, considering they would most likely need scissors to undo it. But that was rather unimportant right now, and would remain so for some time. He would consider that worth note later.
He leaned up into the kiss, eyes going half lidded. “Please,” he began, and then he kissed her jaw, “would you,” the side of her neck, “stop finding excuses,” her throat, “to stall?” He kissed her on the mouth, nipping at her lower lip.
Her eyes crinkled with the depth of her smile. Hands carefully to either side of the arc reactor, she slid over onto his body, dipping her head to lick at a collarbone. He was so hard she didn’t need her hands to guide them together. A moment of concentration, eyelids flickering and tongue poking out, and then she settled their hips together, rocking slightly from side to side.
Something between a whimper and a moan escaped her, carrying his name on a breath of sound. She stayed there, kneeling over him, for a long moment. “May I?” One hand lifted, brushed at his temple. “Want you to feel this too.” There was something reverent in her voice.
Valentine’s Evening || iamthefirechild
“Details, Tony. /Details/.” Summer smacked him again, harder, on the stomach. Then she shook her hand. “Ow. You don’t get what you want until /I/ get what I want, and what I want is to listen to you describe to me exactly what you want to do.”He arched one eyebrow. Well, if she was going to be like that. His voice lowered slightly, not in volume but in pitch, as he outlined what he wanted her to do. Where he wanted her hands and how he wanted her to touch him. He finished with an innocent, “Enough details?” and then a rather pointed stretch, shoulders rounding back against the bed and knees spreading a bit further.
By the time he stopped, Summer’s mouth hung open a little, and she had to swallow hard. “God, Tony,” she breathed. Her face was very flushed. “Well. If you want all that, you’ll have to earn it.” She didn’t manage stern very well over the rasp in her voice.
She slid up to stretch full length beside him, claiming a lengthy kiss even as one hand began on the first of the things he’d described. The other worked at the knot of the tie for a moment before she gave up. “You have to — ” she stopped to kiss him again, ” — have to beg. Ask me. Say please.”
Valentine’s Evening || iamthefirechild
“Hmmm.” Summer rubbed her finger between her labia, eyes sweeping up Tony’s body. “Maddening, is it.” Another tremble shook her body; another step toward the bed. She licked at her lips. dragging in another breath. “Tell me what you want to do about it.”She stripped her underwear off completely in one quick move, planting one knee on the bed. A lock of hair escaped, uncurling down her back and over one pale shoulder. Her fingers went back between her legs, stroking and petting.
Tony sighed out a slow, drawn out breath, and gave up fighting with his restraints, fingers curled slightly as he relaxed. For the moment, at least. Stillness never lasted long with Tony, in or out of the bedroom. He used this moment of stillness to look her over slowly, as she finished stripping.
“You could, I dunno, finish dilly-dallying,” he suggested innocently. “Not that you don’t look like you’re having fun on your own, and you make a stunning sight, but I’m getting a bit uncomfortable over here.”
“You are astonishingly good,” she paused to shudder, “at avoiding the actual question.” She ran her gaze up his body in contemplation, then reached out and smacked his leg. “You’ll stay uncomfortable until you answer the question.”
There are /no/ words. She doesn’t even try, just walks across the floor, half-dazed by the swirls of desire spinning in the room. Telepathy. That explains — a lot. The echo. The sheer, overwhelming emotion.Summer reaches out, fingers brushing against Tony’s hand — and she might as well be unclothed and spread beneath them both, oh god. “Please, darling, misbehave,” she whispers, finally, curling the fingers of her other hand around Loki’s free hand.
Pulling the god upright, she kisses him, drawing it out as much as possible. “Tell me what you want.”
He’s got them both at his mercy. What a lovely feeling — though Summer’s got a way with her mouth that brings the idea of mercy into question. Perhaps she can use that mouth on him while he is teaching Tony patience. The thought jolts lust through his veins.
Loki makes certain to keep a hand on Tony, even while Summer is attempting, apparently, to unravel his brain; it will be interesting to see just how much of a voyeur Tony is. Even when virtually looking through someone else’s eyes. “Undress him,” he tells Summer, squeezing her hand briefly before guiding it to the genius’ belt. “The magic will allow the passage of clothing; it restricts only our lover’s flesh. Disrobe him, and share your special magic. Let us see to what frenzies we may drive ourselves.”
He draws away to sit wide-legged in a nearby chair, calling a soft-tipped flogger to his hand and running the tassels through his fingers.
He can’t see the kiss, but he can feel it, or feel it as they do, rather, and he’s rapidly deciding that’s just as nice, before the kiss breaks.
Tony makes a discontented noise as Loki moves, and it gets quieter in his head, just as he had been getting used to the noise. He latches onto Summer’s presence all the more firmly instead, and falls curiously still as it floods through him.
He can sense both of them again, through Summer’s empathy, though Loki is fainter now and less three dimensional. And again it’s surreal, looking at someone’s mental image of someone else, and he wonders if he could just layer mental images together and get an honest reflection, but he doubts he has any sort of time to play around with that. Besides, Summer’s empathy was proving too distracting to truly focus on much else. He can even sort of sense himself through it, and for a moment he gets distracted chasing that in a circle, before he tugs once, harshly, on his wrists’ bindings to ground himself and focus on Summer properly.
“Shhh,” she soothes, not even really aware of it. With Tony almost as much in her mind as she usually is in his, there’s actually a feedback /loop/. She can hear him hearing her — it’s bizarre. Steadily she unbuckles, unbuttons, and unzips, even while she’s absorbing and reflecting back both men’s every emotion.
“Hips, Tony,” she murmurs, pulling his pants down, and it’s just as Loki said: where ordinary bonds would catch, the fabric falls right through. She has to pause there, hand braced against Tony’s hip, just to breathe deeply, reduced almost to the point of whimpering simply by Loki’s eagerness and Tony’s arousal.
Finding some point of balance, she kisses her way from knee to hip and starts on the buttons of Tony’s shirt, pausing again to shove her hair back over her shoulder and out of the way.
Involuntarily she chased his thumb with her tongue for a second before the new command registered. “Yes, sir,” she murmured, coming to her feet in a single liquid movement. Tshirt first, over the head and stifling the groan as muscles in her back protested, then shorts swiftly. She took a little more time with undergarments, but not much, then climbed onto the cushions beside Victor.
His eyes raked over her body while his fingers traced lazy and light patterns over her torso before he withdrew. “Spread your knees.” He watched her, while the scene inside his head unfolded. “Pleasure yourself for me darling.” Victor leaned back a bit then, so that he was resting against the arm of the sofa while he watched her, splayed out before him
Summer flushed, so hard her ears popped. But “yes, sir,” she whispered, relaxing back against the cushions while one hand curved down her chest, between her thighs. She slid a finger in between her labia, eyelids fluttering, and pressed inward, ignoring her clit for the moment.
A look of deep wanting warred with the predatory one in his eyes. His own arousal stirred as he watched the flush creep along her cheeks and down her chest. It was bloody well intoxicating to watch and it certainly got his blood going. The “good girl” was barely audible as it slipped out of his lips and into the air. His teeth bared themselves a little and he took in her sweet scent.
Victor always went straight for her sweet spots, but left to herself, Summer preferred to draw things out a little more. She stuck to the edges, light touches increasing her sensitivity in the same way that dim light dilated the eyes. Her eyes rolled back, finger sliding in slow time with helpless whimpers. Then a second finger, curving a little but still focussed on a steady pumping.
“So close, sir,” she slurred, forcing her eyes open.