Desmond/Lucy, Sex on the Animus [2/?]
anonymous
January 23 2011, 00:14:35 UTC
Lucy lets him ravish her breasts until she can take it no more, her hands moving from his hair to his shoulders, giving him a sharp push so that he leans back into the Animus. He chuckles lightly and she muffles him again with a kiss, her hands sliding down to his chest before she palms his abs. For someone who spent a lot of his time on his back lately, he's in relatively good shape and the Assassin can feel the ripple of hard muscles beneath her hands. She hums approvingly and lets her hands run lower, until they meet with the waistband of his jeans. They make quick work of his belt and buttons and it's her turn to chuckle against his open lips as Desmond moans when she curls her fingers around him, leaving no doubt in the blond's mind about the effect she has on the bartender.
He feels like he's turning into putty at her hands and when his hips buck despite himself, he opens his eyes to see Lucy lightly smirk down at him, pride written all over her flushed features. He moves to try to catch her lips again, but she pushes him back, laughing lightly as he groans, slightly frustrated by her teasing. Determined to see her whimper as well, Desmond drops his hand to her thighs, only to have his brain nearly melted as he realizes that instead of wearing her usual jeans, Lucy has put on that short black skirt she used to wear at Abstergo. The same one that used to leave him sleepless at night while stuck at the Templar's facility. The man gladly slips hand beneath the black fabric, fingers early running on the soft skin of the blond's inner thigh. He watches as she closes her eyes, teeth biting again on her lower lip, her hand curling on his shoulder, the other stopping its torturous motions for a moment. He slowly moves his hand higher, closer to her warmth. When digits reach silky, wet folds, he's the one moaning as he realizes she isn't wearing anything underneath the skirt.
"Shit, Lucy..."
She leans over, her forehead resting against his shoulder as she moves against his hand, her moans muffled against his skin.
"No time to waste..."
If he wasn't in love with her before, Desmond knows he is now and he shifts to catch her lips with his again, moving the skirt up as she properly frees him from the confine of his pants. When she finally slides over him, he can't contain the moan that shakes him over, the slight pain of her nails on the skin of his back only adding to the pleasure. He steadies her, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her body against his, wanting some time to remember how wonderful this feels, how close to heaven he must be now. But Lucy is impatient and she moves, rolling her hips in a way that makes him moan her name while she whispers to his ear all what he has wanted to hear from her.
But time is short and not before long, the Sanctuary is only filled with grunts and moans and whimpered names that echoes softly within the stone walls. They are both close to their release, but Desmond wants to hold on for longer, just a little bit longer than Lucy so he can watch her stumble over the edge before following her. This time, she lets him move to sit up more properly and he catches her breast in his mouth again, tongue lashing at the sensitive skin. Her fingers sink into his shoulder, leaving marks there as well as Lucy leans back slightly, letting the flow of pleasure take over her.:
Desmond/Lucy, Sex on the Animus [3/3]
anonymous
January 23 2011, 00:15:34 UTC
"...MOND! GET UP YOU LAZY OAF!"
The bartender grunts as a swift kick connects with his side and he opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling of the Sanctuary before running a hand over his face. He sits up slowly and gives a confused look around, his gaze finally stopping on the angry face of the group's historian.
"You know, while I'd rather have my sleep to never be interrupted by anyone, especially not by you, I have to admit that I largely prefer your blood curling girly screams to hearing you moan Lucy's name over and over" Shaun offers with a glare. Desmond blinks, giving the other man a confused before it finally clicks. He had been dreaming. Face warming up with embarrassment, he scrambles to hide himself waist down and gives the room a longer look, hoping-no praying-that Lucy hasn't heard him. Shaun gives him a self-satisfied look at his panicked expression:
"Oh, your luck is in. Our fierce leader has gone out with Rebecca for a supply run." The small smirk slowly blossoms on the ginger's lips and Desmond instantly knows he's in trouble still:
"Though it doesn't mean she won't hear about this. We are asked to let her know of the slightest change in your behaviour after all." The smirk is left unfaltering despite the glare Shaun's receives. Although, he has to admit, the frown does make Desmond look like Altaïr.
"What do you want?" the novice finally asks after weighting his options, obviously defeated.
"Well, as you know, I am on chores duty again this week and really, all these chemicals are really damaging my skin and I need my hands to be able to properly work..."
"Fine, I'll do it." Desmond gets up and takes the cleaning supplies from Shaun's hands. "Oh! And please remember that there are also the laundry and the dishes to do. After that, I believe Rebecca and Lucy found an old tin bath they would love to use, provided that it is returned to its original state. I believe it is possible, with enough scrubbing. Time to put those big muscles of yours to good use, Desmond."
"Fuck off, Shaun."
The historian watches the novice's back disappear on the top of the stairs and smiles to himself. He wonders how long he will be able to blackmail the bartender before the man finds the courage to tell Lucy how he feels. Although, if what Becca had told him is anything close to the truth, the blond is close to getting fed up of waiting for him to make a move and Shaun has no problem betting on this ending with Lucy jumping a clueless Desmond. Not that it would be too early if you ask him. That way, he would finally have some time with Rebecca. Truly, letting it slip out during their next team meeting might accelerate things...
He feels like he's turning into putty at her hands and when his hips buck despite himself, he opens his eyes to see Lucy lightly smirk down at him, pride written all over her flushed features. He moves to try to catch her lips again, but she pushes him back, laughing lightly as he groans, slightly frustrated by her teasing. Determined to see her whimper as well, Desmond drops his hand to her thighs, only to have his brain nearly melted as he realizes that instead of wearing her usual jeans, Lucy has put on that short black skirt she used to wear at Abstergo. The same one that used to leave him sleepless at night while stuck at the Templar's facility. The man gladly slips hand beneath the black fabric, fingers early running on the soft skin of the blond's inner thigh. He watches as she closes her eyes, teeth biting again on her lower lip, her hand curling on his shoulder, the other stopping its torturous motions for a moment. He slowly moves his hand higher, closer to her warmth. When digits reach silky, wet folds, he's the one moaning as he realizes she isn't wearing anything underneath the skirt.
"Shit, Lucy..."
She leans over, her forehead resting against his shoulder as she moves against his hand, her moans muffled against his skin.
"No time to waste..."
If he wasn't in love with her before, Desmond knows he is now and he shifts to catch her lips with his again, moving the skirt up as she properly frees him from the confine of his pants. When she finally slides over him, he can't contain the moan that shakes him over, the slight pain of her nails on the skin of his back only adding to the pleasure. He steadies her, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her body against his, wanting some time to remember how wonderful this feels, how close to heaven he must be now. But Lucy is impatient and she moves, rolling her hips in a way that makes him moan her name while she whispers to his ear all what he has wanted to hear from her.
But time is short and not before long, the Sanctuary is only filled with grunts and moans and whimpered names that echoes softly within the stone walls. They are both close to their release, but Desmond wants to hold on for longer, just a little bit longer than Lucy so he can watch her stumble over the edge before following her. This time, she lets him move to sit up more properly and he catches her breast in his mouth again, tongue lashing at the sensitive skin. Her fingers sink into his shoulder, leaving marks there as well as Lucy leans back slightly, letting the flow of pleasure take over her.:
"I...I...Oh...Desmond...Des..."
Reply
The bartender grunts as a swift kick connects with his side and he opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling of the Sanctuary before running a hand over his face. He sits up slowly and gives a confused look around, his gaze finally stopping on the angry face of the group's historian.
"You know, while I'd rather have my sleep to never be interrupted by anyone, especially not by you, I have to admit that I largely prefer your blood curling girly screams to hearing you moan Lucy's name over and over" Shaun offers with a glare. Desmond blinks, giving the other man a confused before it finally clicks. He had been dreaming. Face warming up with embarrassment, he scrambles to hide himself waist down and gives the room a longer look, hoping-no praying-that Lucy hasn't heard him. Shaun gives him a self-satisfied look at his panicked expression:
"Oh, your luck is in. Our fierce leader has gone out with Rebecca for a supply run." The small smirk slowly blossoms on the ginger's lips and Desmond instantly knows he's in trouble still:
"Though it doesn't mean she won't hear about this. We are asked to let her know of the slightest change in your behaviour after all." The smirk is left unfaltering despite the glare Shaun's receives. Although, he has to admit, the frown does make Desmond look like Altaïr.
"What do you want?" the novice finally asks after weighting his options, obviously defeated.
"Well, as you know, I am on chores duty again this week and really, all these chemicals are really damaging my skin and I need my hands to be able to properly work..."
"Fine, I'll do it." Desmond gets up and takes the cleaning supplies from Shaun's hands. "Oh! And please remember that there are also the laundry and the dishes to do. After that, I believe Rebecca and Lucy found an old tin bath they would love to use, provided that it is returned to its original state. I believe it is possible, with enough scrubbing. Time to put those big muscles of yours to good use, Desmond."
"Fuck off, Shaun."
The historian watches the novice's back disappear on the top of the stairs and smiles to himself. He wonders how long he will be able to blackmail the bartender before the man finds the courage to tell Lucy how he feels. Although, if what Becca had told him is anything close to the truth, the blond is close to getting fed up of waiting for him to make a move and Shaun has no problem betting on this ending with Lucy jumping a clueless Desmond. Not that it would be too early if you ask him. That way, he would finally have some time with Rebecca. Truly, letting it slip out during their next team meeting might accelerate things...
Reply
Leave a comment