Speakeasy

If she thought getting the faintest taste of him off his breath on her face back in the opera house was intoxicating, this whole experience is mind-numbing.

He tastes exactly like rum and cake, it doesn't seem possible that her guess a couple of hours ago could have been so correct. So wonderfully correct. It sets her mind buzzing with a new sort of high, nothing like alcohol and, though she has no experience with drugs, she imagines this is quite different than anything you could get with them, too.

Shand is intentionally leaning over her but not pressing down on her. Damn if it doesn't feel like his entire weight is on her chest somehow. It's hard to breathe like he's actually, somehow, taking her breath away.

How long has she secretly wanted to do this? Been pining after him but pushing the feeling down to the point she doesn't even recognize it? It feels like since the day she met him. He's always been the one that stood out the clearest in her memories, that she was to happiest to talk to, missed the most when he was gone. She really had just been fooling herself this entire time, hadn't she? This proves it.

Maybe it's more than just this intangible weight on her chest making it difficult to breathe now because she finds herself out of breath the longer they kiss, taking deep breaths through her nose to try to keep up with him, her chest starting to heave a bit.

He goes to pull back, probably to give her space, but it's not what she wants. Her hands slip from his face into his hair, gripping at the waves to keep his face pulled close to hers, tugging on it a little bit in the way she had imagined doing it earlier but had felt wrong thinking about. Now it feels right. Like she was just saving the idea for this moment.

Shand seems to find it amusing because she can feel a little chuckle pass between their lips as they both part their mouths to better position themselves on each other's. It makes Luna smile right up at him, move her lips to his bottom lip, mouthing at it lightly. Tentatively, afraid to get a little carried away over how addicting he tastes and feels.

Between her hands in his hair and the feeling of her pulling at his lip, he tries, but he can't entirely hold back the shaky breath that he sighs out over her. He can feel his stomach flopping, feel muscles tensing and anticipating and sending little shockwaves through his system. He feels electric.

His hands find their own way up to her face, fingers up the length of her neck to find the back of her head and help hold it, keeping her face as close to his as he can get it. The other hand brushes the hair back from her face, runs fingertips across her cheek, feeling and memorizing and drinking her in in this tactile way.

He has to shift his weight because the way his muscles are clenching and pushing him is making it hard to keep holding himself up, but he's reluctant to move too much, to move in any way that might make her feel uncomfortable. With a sudden jolt, he realizes, remembers really, that Luna hasn't had much of any experience with men. This, actually, might be....

"Luna."

He pulls back only enough to give their lips room to rest, their noses still touching, soft breaths skirting across both their faces.

"Was that your first...?"

He's holding his breath waiting for that answer, not sure what he wants it to be. The thought of him being the reason she finally broke all those rules he's made for her himself. That's almost laughable, but there's still a part of him, that overprotective part, that feels like he's ruining something. That feels like this is too good for him, something he's staining with his dirty fingers.

Luna can't hide the confusion on her face when he forces himself back, brow knit. He hadn't pulled back so far that her hands had to slip out of his hair, but he's back further than she would like.

"What-"

What's wrong? Did something happen? All the questions she wishes she could get out but they all stop short when he continues, fills in the silence.

Oh. Oh no.

Her face flushes a deep red color and she is suddenly overcome with the desire to push away and roll over to hide her face from him. Except he's still leaning over her and she really has nowhere to run. Some part of her loves that... Another part of her hates that right now.

"I- That bad, huh?"

Was that really such a bad kiss that he could tell it was her first time trying it? Honestly, it felt great to her, better than anything, but she has to remind herself that Shand has more experience than she does. Of course she would mess something up, fumble over some part of it.

With all the embarrassment building up, she tries to relieve the pressure she feels with a forced laugh, something quiet to try to fill the quiet, as if him calling her out on this doesn't bother her and make her feel inadequate.

"I guess I'll just need some practice or time or something. Sorry-"

Shand chuckles softly before shaking his head, brushing his lips back and forth against hers, going in for another short kiss.

“No, no. Its not that. It was perfect.”

For emphasis, he kisses her agains, deeper and longer, until he has to exercise a lot of self control to keep from pressing his tongue between her lips.

“I️ just don’t want. Don’t want to go too fast. Or too far. I️ just want you to be comfortable.”

He’s always gone too fast, too far, with everything in his life. Caution the wind. Nothing has mattered, never anything so much as this one thing matters right now.

Its a paradigm shift that’s taken him by surprise. He feels like her skin under his fingers, her hair in his hands, everything is immeasurably fragile now, a treasure of glass in his palms. He’s never held anything so valuable and not dashed it to pieces. He can’t risk that here.

“I️ just. I️ want this to last forever. And I️ don’t want you to regret it later.”

Each and every time his lips touch hers, either in glancing brushes or intentional passion, her heart leaps a bit and the room feels hotter.

"N... No, come on. I've had a lot of time to work up regret for following you, being here in this house. I've had years."

Luna lifts a hand up to cup his cheek, thumbing across his skin gently, watching how it gives at her touch, soft and warm.

"And even when I tried to force myself to regret it enough to leave, I couldn't. You're part of all of that. You're... You're the biggest part of all of that. Of me being here. I can't regret you. Ever."

There's something incredibly endearing about how he leans into her hand, allows himself to be held and to sink into the warmth of her skin. It makes her smile between her deep breaths, makes her want to watch him for hours and hours on end, notice every small thing he does and memorize them to save for a lifetime.

Luna spends most of her nights on stage, watching people, observing them. When the songs get repetitive, what else is she supposed to do to occupy her mind? The lyrics are as second-nature as breathing most of the time. No one has ever caught her eye more than Shand, grabbed her attention and never let it go, even before all of this, before this holding, touching. Kissing.

How one person can be so interesting even after years of knowing them feels like a miracle. It sucks her in and makes her want more. Internally, she's even been begging for more, for something deeper and truer, but she's been trying to ignore that insistent passionate desire.

After a moment, she realizes she's just staring up at him, letting her eyes trace his face. It's never been so close before, there's so much more to see. The shade looks richer under the moonlight, his eyes seem to glow, his breath is hot... Has he always looked like this? The sight of his face alone is enough to make her blush all over again.

But then she starts to really notice how he leans over her, how he has one hand tangled up in her hair that sprawls around them on the floor. None of that is helping either. Luna shifts a little, dropping her eyes from his face.

"U-Um... I don't. I don't know if you've ever heard this before, but you actually take my breath away. It's really hard to think right now."

Her eyes shyly slip back up to meet his, holding his gaze, taking in all the ways she can feel herself mentally and physically reacting to him, trying to sort it all out. It becomes a little too much to just think on at some point, instead pushing her to lean up, let her lips meet his again for a long moment.

Just like last time, she feels her mouth start to move against his all on its own, really focusing on his thicker bottom lip. It's odd, but she can feel her lips work over it until it slips between them and she's sucking a bit at him, pulling his lip to her teeth. He freezes.

... Is that what he meant by going too far? That seems odd, like this is just scratching the surface of everything between them. But she tries to take the hint, pulling back a little, looking back up at him to read his expression.

He accidentally gasps into her mouth again at the sensation of his lip between her teeth. Jolts all over his body, making him feel like he's putty in her hands. Or, between her lips.

"You're going to drive me absolutely crazy."

His voice is even shaking a little, breathy and breathless at the same time as he tries to fight what his every muscle is pushing him to.

"You... you better be careful doing stuff like that."

It's a slow warning that sounds only half like a warning and half like an invitation. She can't want anything else from him, especially not up here in this dusty attic after one date where he'd taken her to a practically condemned building. She can't want that.

He's trying to keep himself from getting his hopes up, from falling too deliriously into the throes of, of whatever this is right now. Into the pools of her eyes, the soft pop her lips make when they part from his. God, every nerve he has is on high alert, every sense wide awake and at the same time lulled, soothed, better than being high.

The only safe thing to do is keep kissing her, because if he stops and pulls away, he's just looking down at her, and that's dangerous too. So he brings his lips back to hers, taking her upper lip between his now, letting his teeth softly scrape across it, his tongue playing at where her lips are slightly parted to him.

Luna can't help but hum a little the more he tries to follow her exploring, bitting at her lip, and she can just barely feel his tongue try to join in on the fun. It's a strange sensation to actually want it- that- him. This. Just all of this.

Is there even a word to describe all of this? She's not really sure. Whatever it is, it feels right... Even though she has working knowledge of why his shifting a bit over her and not any practical knowledge of how exactly she's doing this to him. Mostly how he can even see her this way.

Yes, she's aware that there are multiple guys that show up at the speakeasy every night, that get off at even the simple idea of just watching her sing, but... Those are just average men. They get off to everything, that's just how they work. Or so she's been told to believe.

Shand is different. In her mind, true or not, he's above primitive animalistic, "I would sleep with any girl that walked in front of me because they're a girl and I'm a guy" urges. Above being disgusting. He seems to have more control over himself than the average male that lines the stage to watch her.

So if... If he's having thoughts close to anything having to do with... This. Or even finding her remotely appealing in that way, there are only two options. First, she's wrong and he is just like every other man, she just happens to be the first available woman to jump right now.

She doesn't believe that in the slightest, not after years of living with him. She knows him. If that were the case, he would have tried to do this years ago.

Second, he somehow finds her... Attractive? Appealing? Finds something he sees that he likes, that he reacts to. But that mixed still with how his hands gently hold her face and how he tries to warn her about what could happen. He wants her specifically. Luna can't even fathom how that's possible on any level.

Never in all her life did she think she'd be here, like this, with him, but it feels... Like this is how it was supposed to be.

Her hands slide down from his face to the collar of his shirt, fingers halting at the knot in his tie. Earlier, she had thought it was handsome, the color suited him well. Now it just feels like the first of many barriers and, if she removes this one, the rest will inevitably follow.

"Hey, Shand-"

She parts her lips to try to ask him if this is okay or if his warning was him trying to tell her to stop completely. The words get cut off a bit when her open mouth gives his tongue permission to explore further, and she finds herself gasping right into his mouth. For a moment, she doesn't even remember wanting to ask him anything, her eyelids start feeling heavier.

And the room is getting hotter- Or maybe that's just her, it's hard to tell now. All she knows is she gets lured in by his tongue, tilting her head a bit to the side to deepen the kiss, letting their tongues brush by one another, as her hands absentmindedly start working at his tie. Even not focused completely on it, she makes quick work of it.

He feels like he replies to her, whatever she'd been trying to say, before she'd cut herself off, but it comes out more like a soft moan against her mouth. She's not paying attention to what she's doing at his neck, and her hands jerk a little, pulling against him in a way that just makes him feel more desperate.

Makes him think she's feeling a little desperate, too.

That thought has him pulling back for a moment, his brow knit, trying to catch his breath. When he looks down at her it almost chokes him again. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes heavy lidded, her hair spread out under them. She's biting her bottom lip.

"Do you... are you... are we..."

He swallows hard, feels a twinge of a pull in his hips that he has to tense every muscle in his back to stop.

"Are we going to..."

It catches in his throat and his next breath comes out like another soft gasp. He has to shift his weight again, and this time he brushes against her and practically yelps at the sensation of it. If she doesn't want to go down this path with him, after that, he'll hear it from her for sure.

"I'm sorry, I just. You just."

He snaps his mouth shut- he should just wait, let her tell him what she wants, regardless of what that is. His thumbs finds its way back to her hairline, back to brushing some of her hair back while he tries to hold himself up off her still, despite how his muscles quake.

She watches him for a moment, though he's a little cut off by her drooping eyelids, but she can still clearly see his face, how he's looking at her. The visual with his tone of voice doesn't help.

He sounds desperate... As desperate as she feels.

Is this really going to happen? Are they really going to do this? He sure seems like he wants to, but he keeps hesitating. Luna has to try to give him the benefit of the doubt: This is probably weird for him after how he's viewed her for so long.

But damn. He can't take her out on a date so personalized for her, tell her they can be together, then lean over her and kiss her like he had without expecting something to happen. It's just, it's not fair to think she wouldn't get swept up in this as fast as he did. Feel immediately drawn to him in every inch of her body.

"We... If you don't want to..."

Maybe this is him trying to gently back out of this, or give her a chance to. Maybe she should try to pull her hands away from his collar-

As soon as she does, the undone tie slips from around his neck, cascades down onto her chest below him. The feel of the silk fabric through the sheer mesh over her skin sends a chill through her so fast that she shudders, bending her knees and shifting to try to find some sort of relief from the growing heat and tension she feels.

That also happens to be when she notices the tendons in his neck, taught as he fights against his body. She thinks about how she'd like to trace them with her fingers but the next second it's not her fingers on them. It's her lips, biting at his skin, letting her tongue do the tracing she had just been thinking about all along his neck.

The way she hears him pull for air makes her have to shift again, even going so far as to pull her legs in further, crossing her ankles a bit to control the growing feeling.

It's not exactly something she can just stop. The way his muscles twitch under her lips and the way he shakes and makes little reactionary noises to her... He's not even really touching her that much anymore, caught off guard by her actions, but her body is still caught up in giving him different responses back.

He stops himself midway through gasping out a curse word. Something about being in her presence, even like this, makes him hesitate. She's always made him want to be better, hasn't she? In one way or another, something he's fought at times. But now, he just wants to give into it. Just like he wants to give into her in every way she seems to want. He wants her right back.

As she mouths at his neck, he blinks back his surprise, and his hands stop asking him for permission. They go straight to her shoulders, ghosting along the mesh fabric that gives him only a taste of the feel of her skin. He finds the buttons around the back of the neckline and works at them with shaking fingers, slipping every time her mouth moves on him.

He tries to lean in, to make her pause so he can get his lips on her, to give his mouth something to do other than want to curse and moan and bite his lip so hard it bleeds. But she's persistent in a way he couldn't have imagined. Does she actually really want this just as much as he does?

He- she couldn't. Not with him. Is he taking advantage of her, is she caught up in the newness and the feelings of it all? If she's never done this with anyone else before, maybe it's just a tide washing over her, dragging her out, keeping her from realizing what she's doing.

He thinks he tries to tell her as much, to make her stop and ask her if she's sure, but then he feels her tongue on his neck.

"Shit, Luna."

He hasn't made sounds like these in... has he ever? His body gives in to her so easily, like she was made specifically to tame him. He's slipping the opened up neckline of her dress over her shoulders, slowly to give her time to realize what he's doing before he pulls it down further than she'd want.

Shand's hands on her bare skin immediately make her gasp, freezing for a moment as chills rush across her, especially when his hands are working around the back of her neck.

God, if he went any slower, she's sure she'd just explode right here on the spot, there would be nothing left of her. Not with everything she's feeling.

Luna tries to arch her back up to help him get a better angle to slip the mesh off her shoulders and down her arms. The impatience grows when he stops. Her eyes look up to his to see he's just watching her, biting his lip, using every bit of control he has to stay there like that.

In the back of her mind, she knows why. The rest of her mind doesn't seem to care right now. Her hands grab his face and pull his lips crashing down onto hers, locking him there as she completely bites at his bottom lip now. No more room for little, playful nibbles.

Just to make sure he gets the picture, her thumbs trace his jaw, slip down his neck, press at his throat, before they hit the top button of his shirt. In a desperate attempt to try to show him what she wants, she starts working at the buttons, only pausing on the shirt to undo his vest in her way, and then she gets right back to work.

After a moment, she notices her hands drifting along his bare skin, feeling up the front of him, the texture completely different than the fabric. It makes her eyes snap open in surprise as she leans back to see what she's feeling at. All along his chest, his body, are tattoos decorating him like a piece of art. Some follow the natural contours of his muscles and-

"God..."

She breathlessly takes in the sight, how there's decent definition to him she never would have known about if she weren't here right now. Everything stops for a moment as she just takes time to draw all over him, watching the muscles twitch at her touch, especially the lower down his abdomen her hands wander.

He's always looked like this. This has always been around her and she never knew. She may have ever known. Suddenly, she feels so incredibly lucky, so much so it makes her heart hurt just to beat.

Much like with his neck, her mouth seems keen on the tracing idea and her tongue is to his chest in an instant, following the indent down his sternum. There's a scar there, one he hasn't told her about, one that he clearly tries to hide, something big from an event in his life that must have hurt.

Maybe she shouldn't be feeling it, but her tongue greedily works over the different texture of the skin, following it all the way to where she can reach, having to stretch her neck at some points but she doesn't care. Eventually, she tries biting at it, pinching the tough skin between her teeth, leaving marks as she moves along.

Okay, that's it. He can't take this stop and start, this holding himself back wondering and waiting. Not when she's kissing over every inch of his skin that she can get exposed like she's worshiping him or something. To hell with holding back.

He works the fabric down further over her shoulders with a quick yank that jostles her a little in a way neither of them were expecting. But it drags the bodice of her dress all the way down to her waist where it's cinched in. His hands start moving over her immediately, taking in every bit of her smooth, porcelain white skin.

At the angle her mouth has put him at, he can see all of her and his eyes take her in hungrily. He keeps biting his lip, the desire to have his mouth on her washing over him and ultimately stopping on his lips. He keeps feeling himself straining under her touch, wanting more of it but wanting to feel her, too.

He slips his thumbs under the straps of her bra, accidentally snapping one against her skin and breathing out a murmured apology as he works those down over her shoulders, too. When he reaches around behind her, he pauses, pulls himself from her lips so he can brush her nose with his again, let his lips fall onto hers and feel her body rise to press against his.

There's a moment in all his pausing where she wonders if he's just going to stop, just roll off of her and leave her like this. It worries her, like she's doing something wrong he absolutely can't stand. Was it the scar? She shouldn't have focused so much on it-

"I'm sorry-"

She hopes that she can try to make it up to him but everything is cut off when he starts moving again, something hungry and forceful, yanking her dress with enough force that the blanket under them shifts. The sudden motion makes her jerk, but nothing surprises her like the sudden snap of her bra.

A sharp little gasp comes out of her mouth, trailed by an airy whine that has her biting her lip by the end of it, trying to focus on the lingering little stinging she feels all along her shoulder. But he's really not giving her any breaks now because not even two seconds after she bites her lip to try to quiet herself, his mouth is on hers. It's got her moaning a soft little hum up into him.

The feeling down at her hips is only becoming more unbearable, she finds herself trying to shift for a positon to give her some relief- And that's when she notices how the fabric of her thin panties clings to her, how a slickness is rubbing around her thighs from between her legs.

It completely catches her off guard, something she's not expecting until she notices it's happened. And of course, her mind pieces together exactly why her body is doing this outside of merely reacting to him. Her heart throbs and her head pounds at the mental image of what's about to happen, at the inevitable next step to all of this. It's definitely not helping her gain any more control over herself.

If anything, it makes her more impatient for everything in a nervous high.

Her hands push all around his body, slipping past his shirt around his back at his muscles there, her mind racing with trying to imagine all the tattoos he may have out of sight. One hand even boldly slips back around to his front, a few fingers slipping under his belt, working at the clasp the best she can while her mind is also trying to focus on her tongue flicking out, forcing its way past his lips to enjoy the kiss.

When her hands start tugging at his belt, he makes a noise down into her mouth that can only be described as growling. Its a deep, nearly guttural sound, full of desire and impatience. His hips aren’t prepared for the pressure and they dip down against her body, her weight giving under his.

He can feel her. God, he can feel her under him. Her body tries to jerk up a little to him, but he’s mostly pinned her down with his weight and it takes a moment of being absolutely stupefied by this, entranced by this feeling, before he pulls himself up a little to give her some room, so she doesn’t feel like he’s being pushy or forceful.

But something else goads him elsewhere. Her dress is a little matted down around her hips now, all the fabric with nowhere to go. He tries to pull some of it back, but ends up pulling the skirt of the dress from over her so he can see the way her legs are shaking a little, see the porcelain white skin and how her panties are wet at the crotch, sticking to the outline of her that’s barely visible through them.

A long stream of air comes out of him, like a little airy worshipful gasp. Is it okay to see her like this? She’s squirming a little at her hips, and every move she makes bounces at her chest, pulling his eyes to her nipples, so pink against her light skin.

This is the best kind of torture.

He lets his fingers trail up the inside of her thigh without watching them, just skirting along her skin softly for a tease as he leans over and takes a nipple between his teeth, pressing it against his tongue, rolling it inside his mouth gently with his eyes flicking up at her face to read whether or not he’ll be allowed to continue.

This is unbearable. All the teasing and playing. Is this a normal thing people do in this situation? If so, it's absolutely awful.

Yet she doesn't find herself disliking it which is the oddest part of it all. Her body wants more, is desperately yearning for it, for some sort of high-intensity desire. It takes everything she has to keep her hips from bucking up at him too much, from being so embarrassingly hungry, even though that's exactly how she's feeling.

His hand on her thigh between her legs most definitely doesn't help matters. She can distinctly feel every inch of skin his fingers pass over like he's leaving a sharp shock in his wake that makes her hair stand on end. Makes her try to press her thighs together to control the slickness she keeps feeling from spreading too much, but she really only traps his hand, presses her knees into the sides of his hips.

But then he bites her. It's not something she can ever say she's felt, not something she ever thought she'd feel from Shand, that's for sure. His teeth are sharp and the sensitive skin bends under the pressure, her nipple folding up between his teeth. It's not even that it hurts so much but the shock of it with the slight ache is enough to make her jolt, gasping out a high-pitched little yelp.

Her first natural instinct is to turn away from him, pull her body back off to the side, but his teeth have her breast snared and the turning only unintentionally makes him pull at her chest. Rather than continue the action, this has her doing the opposite from being, now arching her back up into his mouth for more. The complete flip-flop of desires and emotions her body is going through, the quickly changing reactions, are giving her whiplash. She can't keep up with what she wants.

All she knows is, the most this continues, what she wants slowly just gets narrowed down to him. In every single possible way imaginable.

It's not common for her to have these sorts of thoughts, but she finds herself wondering what he looks like. What he feels like. How tight the fit between them would be. Is that wrong? Is it wrong to fantasize about it?

Right or wrong, she finds herself working at his pants with shaky hands, trying to look down past his face looking up so intently at her. That's just a whole other level to this. He's watching her for a reaction, but he's also watching her like the sight of her falling apart like this, collapsing into a steaming mess under him, is his favorite sight in the world. It takes a lot of pausing and letting her body act on its own slowly before his pants are undone and she's trying to slip them off of him.

With how he's over her, her hands can barely read to get them over his hips, meaning she has to press her legs even tighter against them and use friction to work them down.

Luna bites her lip quickly as she eyes down his exposed chest, shirt still lazily hanging off is back and arms like a curtain around her, and down to his hips. Not that she really has to look to see him. Once his pants are gone, she can feel him try to press up between her legs, blocked only by the wet fabric of her panties.

That really gets her mind turning about what feels like the inevitable, natural next step to all of this. Her face and chest flush a bright red, feeling more and more the burning between her hips. Tight would probably be the wrong word now that she's seen... Him. Full. Aching fullness is probably the best way to describe how she imagines it. Yet she still finds herself wanting it. Craving it, now more than ever.

He wishes he was more patient. He wishes he’d thought this out, figured out some smooth and classy way to do all of this. Not just wantonly biting and groping at her, her dress pulled down and pulled up and bunched in the middle. Its hardly glamorous and he’s sure it’s hardly what any girl would fantasize about for her first time. With the ex-con in the attic.

But even that can’t dull his desire even in the slightest. She deserves the world and he’ll give her all of it he can, but he’s selfish enough in this moment to just want her. The way she bucks up into him with the same kind of yearning that’s churning in his gut. And now that she’s got his pants off him, there’s not much more reason to delay.

Except.


He pulls his hand from her thigh and it’s a little sticky. He licks his fingers with a playful smile before cupping her face, leaning in to kiss her deeply. His tongue, her tongue, everything all together. His hips are pressed tight to hers and he can feel himself twitching against the wet fabric of her panties, electrified by how badly he wants to feel her from the inside.

“You...do you wanna...?”

He breathes it down a little shakily into her mouth, breathlessly almost, having to blink a few times in a row to keep himself focused on this, on her face. Her eyelids are heavy like she’s in some kind of trance and her cheeks are more flushed than Shand has ever seen her before.

She’s always been beautiful. But this. This is a different type of beautiful, a different way to see her altogether and he wonders again if he’s worthy of this beautiful gift, this treasure of a secret. But he doesn’t want to trip himself up, not when he wants this more than anything he can remember wanting ever before. He goes back to kissing her, one hand tracing her cheek and her brow gently while the other finds its way back between her legs, fingers slipping past the fabric and feeling right into the middle of the wet heat that’s building up there.

He doesn't even give her a chance to respond. Not that she would know entirely how to smoothly respond anyways. But when his fingers slip past the fabric and start feeling around at the folds of skin, it's all over, really.

Luna hadn't realized how sensitive everything was now, how even the slightest touch as her flinching, has her shifting her hips to relieve some building tension, her knees bending as all her muscles start contracting. It's too much, too perfect. It has her gasping and sighing all at once, especially as he starts to press his way around to explore the heat.

God, she can't think straight, she can't figure out what's going on. Somewhere she knows they're in a room in the Fox house and deep in the basement is a live-wire party. But here and now all she knows is him. He's all she sees, all she hears, and definitely all she feels.

Shand keeps toying around with her to the point her whole body starts squirming and she feels antsy just laying under him. Her hands fly up to his head, gripping his hair and pulling his face down hard to hers. Their lips crash in a way that she can't even hide how much she wants him, only pulling away for small moments of air with the parting little pop sound of their lips. Then they're right back at it again.

It's during one of these moments she briefly pulls away that words just seem to slip out, finally giving him a response.

"P-Please, Daddy. Don't make your babygirl wait."

The world of this sort of talk isn't unknown to her, she just thought she would never use it. So when she does, she blushes even brighter, especially how her voice seems to naturally smooth over the specific term. There's a suggestive glide to it.

And she can't bring herself to regret it either. Instead, she can feel the corners of her lips pull up into a smirk to match the tone as she brings their mouths back together. Her whole body is trembling with growing anticipation, but everything just feels like a growing high, one turn-on after the next.

There’s the briefest moment of shock, the thought of wondering if that had actually come out of her mouth- but that moment plays itself out before it even really begins.

Its like fuel to a fire, and it starts to rage inside him. He rolls her wet panties down her hips, working them down far enough to leave them hanging off one ankle.

“Fuck, Luna.”

He goes back in to kiss her, feeling like he’s missing something to not be at her mouth, to have her tongue inside his, to be toying st her bottom lip as he sinks his hips down into hers, pushes himself right up to her. God, she’s tight and already her muscles are clenched and relaxing and shaking and it takes a few good thrusts, he has to hold her by the hips to keep from pushing her across the floor, before he’s sunken into her totally.

The heat and the pressure is sudden and overwhelming. He’s moaning almost immediately. He’s not new at this by any means, but it’s never felt like this before. His hands go back up her body, roaming up her waist to her chest to cup her breasts, to kiss up her neck as he tries to pull back away from her.

There’s an undeniable suction that makes the downbeat nearly as difficult as the first thrusts, and for a moment he’s afraid that it’s been too rough a start, that he should have been more gentle with her. But her lip is between her teeth and she looks like she’s as high as he is.

“How’s that, babygirl? Do you like how Daddy’s filling you up?”

He sets up a slow pace, and its agonizing, but the slickness between the two of them starts to build up, help the pace quicken and the tight fit start to work for them instead of against them.

It's rough. He doesn't really even wait for her to catch up to where he is. Not that she's sure it would help right now. Her hands drop from his hair to his shoulders almost immediately, gripping onto him, nails in his skin, trying to brace herself as she feels her body slowly start to sway under him.

Her whole body tightens, all muscles contracting in a full body reaction to feeling how he presses deep up into her. It's tight and hot, she can feel him twitching, feel her spasming around him. God, there really is no room between them.

"It. It hurts some, Daddy."

She's not sure where the honesty comes from, though he could probably tell on his own with how shes gasping as he slowly burrows deeper down. It's not even so much that she's moving her body with him intentionally, she just has no other choice. As he put it, he's filling her up so much that she's forced to move however he does, whenever he does. And, damn, if that loss of control, this weight bearing down on her and moving her, isn't the most intoxicating ache she's ever felt, she's not sure what is.

Of course, she doesn't want him to get the wrong idea. She leans up and takes his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling him back down to her. It's only then that she notices something metal pressing against her top lip. Her tongue explores to find a piercing hidden in his mouth, in front of his teeth.

The metal is warm, but cool in comparison to his lips. She lets her tongue play around it, flicking between the two spheres, taking in the cool texture. Shand bucks up hard into her in response, jolting her, and it makes her brow knit as she tries to figure out where that had come from. Was it this piercing?

Luna takes it between her teeth, grinding the metal, her teeth clinking lightly against it. The noise rings in her ears. That in time with how he's pushing and pulling into her hips has her eyes rolling back, moaning up against his mouth. He may have complete control of her hips, but she seems to have his lips.

"B... Be good to your babygirl."

Whispering, she tries not to keep their mouths apart too long, most for her sake. It gives her something to do, something to give back to him, as he works down on her, making her muscles respond to him how he pleases, but in a way she can't complain about.

His chest is heaving already, and he knows it only has half to do with the effort it’s taken to establish any sort of pace with how tight they’re fitted together, and more to do with how his body is reacting to the way she moves, the noises she’s making, the things she’s saying to him.

Its like the more of this he has, the more control he loses and the more he feels himself growing in this animalistic hunger for her.

“Babygirl is just so tight for Daddy. So good and... and tight.”

His voice breaks with another moan as he sinks into her, more slowly this time, more gently, but it just intensified the burn and the ache of it.

He keeps his mouth as close to hers as he can, alternating between kissing her and toying with her lips and letting her explore his mouth at her own pace. She keeps pulling on the piercing behind his lip and the pressure matched with w feels between his hips might just drive him insane.

He keeps one hand high around the side of her body, high enough to tease at her breasts and nipples, while the other one drifts back between her legs, trying to spread her open a little more for him, circling around in all the wet, hot, swollen skin with his thumb, looking for all her most sensitive spots as he pushes in and pulls out at an agonizing pace.

His voice is low and hot up against her, the words spilling right from his mouth into hers. It's all the force of the most addictive liquor, raw, powerful, unfiltered, it sends a chill across her skin in the midst of feeling so warm she could melt. Honestly, just melting into him, becoming a part, an extension, of him doesn't seem so bad. Actually, it seems preferable. Feel tight and amazing in all the ways people try to teach you to be ashamed of, but she feels anything but regret for now.

Her back starts to stick to the floor where her dress is pulled down off her skin, creating a whole new noise to the mix of their moans and heaving breathing. The areas of her skin stick and pull, making wet skidding-like sounds with each long push and pull he forces into her and her body to follow along with. She doesn't even have to see her back to know how red it's getting from all the friction, all the bearing of his weight and her own down onto the floor.

Actually... If she listens closely, past the sound of herself, she can hear the quite start of the floorboards under her starting to creak from the pressure. Shand has said, back at the opera house, that they can't tell anyone, that they should remain a secret, so, by that logic, the should be trying to not make any noise the floors below may hear.

At the same time... The thought of getting a little loud is oddly appealing.

Luna manages to lift her head off the floor just enough to push past his mouth, nipping up his jaw until she reaches his earlobe. Little pieces of metal lightly hit up against the tip of her nose as he moves over her, swaying from his ear. Just like with the piercing in his mouth, she finds her lips trailing up to these too.

They aren't just studs, there are even some hoops at his ears, tempting and teasing her, dragging across her mouth with his movement. It's too much for her to fight, she forces her tongue through one of them, flicking it around as she traces up his ear through the metal ring. It tugs his cartilage with her until it can't bend anymore and she stops, working her mouth back down.

"Should I be quiet for Daddy?"

Just like his breath had been hot against her mouth, she lets hers wash over his ear as she whispers to him, lets her moans roll out directly for him to hear up close. He rams up into her a little harder, sending shocks through her, really spreading the growing ache she's feeling across everything.

A high, airy gasp arches her chest up into his hand, really feeling how hard her nipple is under his thumb. All she can do to stop it is to bite down on his ear to quiet herself, pulling the hoop into her mouth completely. It doesn't take long for her teeth to grind down onto it, for her tongue to flick up and down into it, matching the slow, toying pace of his hips.

His hand between her hips is coaxing, hypnotizing almost, she finds herself fall right in line with it. Her legs spread open, pulling from his sides, opening herself up more for him. Her skin starts shifting around him, producing further wet noise but down from where he fills up inside of her tightly. The noise makes her brow knit, her breath huffing in hot blasts through her nose, trying desperately to keep her mouth on his ear, playing at his piercings.

There’s a chuckle in his throat at first that turns into another low groan as her legs fall open even wider under his fingers and the angle he hits changes, deepens really, and where before he felt like he was fitted as flush to her as he could be, he’s sinking even further now, pressing his body even tighter to hers like they were made to fit together like this.

The noise that comes out of his mouth is choked, breathless, clearly lost in awe at what’s happening between their bodies, the sensation and the heights it’s pushing them to. He’s never had a drug this good before. He’s afraid he’s addicted before they’re even done.

“Oh no, babygirl. Daddy wants to hear you. He wants to hear all the noises you make from feeling Daddy inside you. Can you feel how Daddy hits up inside you? Damn, you feel so good.”

He’s afraid more of the same will spill out of his mouth with how out of his mind he is in this ecstasy, so he leans over and takes her nipple back in his mouth to shut him up, despite how he still moans around it, treating it more roughly as their pace picks up and the heat and tension that curls up through him becomes nearly intolerable.

“Fuck. You’re g-gonna make me lose my... my mind.”

Somehow, and she really isn't sure how, he starts pushing into her faster. It didn't seem possible with how tight everything was, but something about her legs spreading apart further has given him enough room to really get into a rhythm.

Before it was slow, each pull out more like a drag and each push in a slow burrow. Now, it's agonizing in a different way. This is more of a thrusting, something that has her both jolting on each impact, something that makes her feel a stretching sensation and possibly even a bruising one. All the skin, inside and out, feels like it's on fire, the friction making her muscles clench and then release, then clench again.

"Daddy, I can't-"

He's so hard, rutting up into her like this. He really is hitting up inside of her and there's no way in hell she can't feel all of it. The way he curves, the texture of his skin and how it slides against her wet swollen skin around him, she feels all of it. He had said earlier something about filling her and damn if she doesn't feel ready to burst. There's no room for anything else other than him, to the point she's sure she could see it if she managed to look down at where their hips meet, see a subtle change in the shape of her body as it's forced to mold and clench to him. It just feels that tight.

But now, with this pace, on top of the tightness is a lot of movement. A lot of their hips starting to hit together with growing wet slaps, a lot of her body swaying under him. Her nipple in his mouth tugs her breast back and forth, bouncing her chest around for his amusement. It gets to the point that she's sure he's picking her hips up off the floor with how he pushes into her and her skin sticks to the wood, giving her no place to go, making her take it. Take him.

And, of course, he pulled his ear from her so now there's nothing to stop her noises. Moans quickly turn to whines, little cries of ecstasy, mixed with a bit of pain, but she wants it. She wants it, more of it. She wants him to break her, to never feel the same again unless he's up inside of her like this. She wants-

"H-Harder-"

That word slips out without much thought, but it hangs between them now. But she does realize she should probably be doing more too. She tries to plant her feet on the floor to add resistance but she can't get a good hold, every time she thinks she does, his weight collapses her back down as he moves. Instead, she pulls her legs back in, but, this time, she pulls her knees up to her a bit, bending them up so, not only can she lock them behind his upper back, but she bends and folds a little under him.

He has to bite down on her nipple when she says that to keep from groaning so loud the whole speakeasy can hear. He’d been worried about being too rough, too hard, too much for her first time. And she wants it harder?

He starts to grunt with his thrusts to try and give it to her, really snapping his hips up into her with extra force, and it shows in the harsh recoil of her body under his, how even her head jerks with how her hair is caught under her and the force pulls her body back and forth.

He slows for a moment just to pull her hair out from under her, to relieve that tension and give some loose room so it doesn’t pull at her head. But then his hands start to feel right with handfuls of it between his fists and fuck, that might be a great idea.

He takes a handful close to the back of her head, making her turn to the side, cheek pressed to the floor, so he can nibble up her neck and down her jaw as he picks back up to the hard, rough pace he’s set, their wet skin smacking together with a loud cracking noise that makes him want to make more noise of his own.

“So fucking hard for you. Babygirl fits Daddy so well... look at you, taking all of Daddy so good like that. That’s a good girl.”

He mumbles out against her neck, feeling his whole body heat up and probably flush red with the extra effort of pounding so hard with his hips and trying to keep his lips on her steady. Collateral damage is his fist in her hair, which yanks slightly here and there as his hips move back and forth.

She hadn't realized what she was asking for until she got it, but now that he's giving it to her she's not sure she was really ready. The crack of his hips against hers makes her gasp, squirming under the force of it, everything feels tight and on fire. The muscles in her legs tense up and her toes curl in her shoes the best they can, which only really mildly reminds her that they forgot to take those off. Other than the passing thought, she can't find it in her to really care.

Luna tries to find some form of relief anywhere, first by lifting her hips up off the floor, but he comes driving back into her, pushing her back down with a dull thud. After that, she tries to turn her head but his hand tangled in her hair keeps her in place with her cheek to the floor. More than that, it makes her neck arch in time with his thrusts, sending the sensation and pressure across her entire body.

There's really nothing to do but take it, though her moans start trailing more into whines the longer this continues, high, soft whimpers as her brow knits and her lips start quivering.

Shand starts to slow in response to her but that only feels worse than him working them up into this fever pitch. Her hands slowly find his face then his hair, locking her fingers through it the same way he has her, except she pulls his face towards her the best she can given the angle of her head.

"Is your babygirl doing this right for Daddy? I've never done this before. Is this how Daddy likes it?"

She's not about to let this stop because of her, because she can't take it. Her lips find his jaw, nipping along it with sharp bites of her teeth, followed by a wide sweep of her tongue from his chin up to as high as she can reach. It's hard to focus on the action, occasionally she has to stop to press her mouth to his throat, let his skin muffle her airy noises.

Her legs are already tensing so she uses the spasm of her muscles to hook her legs up over his back, squeezing her knees to his sides.

"Like this, Daddy?"

But her legs don't stop there. No, using him like an anchor, she can lift her hips off the ground. It doesn't give her the relief she was expecting but it does change the angle. It makes her curious, makes her want more. She drags her legs up his body, slipping them under his arms, dragging the toes of her shoes along his sides, until she can push up past his shoulders, lock her legs around his neck.

Her entire body folds immediately up on itself under him, her eyes open wide for a moment of shock as they collapse into this position. It doesn't take long for her eyelids to flutter as her eyes roll back, mouth going slack against his jaw, noises free to flow out of her chest unhindered.