Warning!
Who: Debra Morgan, Derek Morgan (Closed log.)
Where: Totally unknown.
When: Day 39, Night. Following This log
Warnings: Sex. A lot of it, probably on the violent side. With possible issues of consent. And it's Deb so swearing is always implied. This is a legit warning for stuff that may be possibly triggering.
( How the fuck? )
Where: Totally unknown.
When: Day 39, Night. Following This log
Warnings: Sex. A lot of it, probably on the violent side. With possible issues of consent. And it's Deb so swearing is always implied. This is a legit warning for stuff that may be possibly triggering.
( How the fuck? )
The kiss was good. Deb was fond of kissing and had discovered that few of the fucking men in her life actually had the ability to do it well. Derek was one of the three guys who Debra counted that did it really fucking good. She touched his side, stroking her fingers slowly over it until he broke the kiss and she pulled away a bit.
When he spoke, Deb looked down on him quickly. She hadn't even registered the fact that she wasn't wearing her bra until he had mentioned it. When she saw the gown that she was wearing, Debra Morgan rolled her eyes. "This has to be your fucking fault. I don't wear girlie shit like this."
Of course, it didn't change the fact that there was something else out there that was attempting to set the tone for what was happening. This motherfucker had now removed them from the situation with Martha fucking Jones, Jim Kirk and apparently maybe her fucking partner? Had that been the voice that she'd heard when she'd bit Derek's lip? Damned if she fucking knew; this place was getting god damn weird even for this fucking place.
Leaning down, she nipped at his lip again, and spoke against it. "That's fucking Ms Morgan, asshole."
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His hands snaked their way as far down as they could reach before tugging up what remained of the gown, sliding up the bare skin of her thighs and resting on her hips without obstruction. The trip through whatever wormhole they had been through to get to the candle lit room had cooled his jets enough to allow the verbal and physical teasing.
Thoughts about the craziness at the boarding house were as distant as any thoughts from home. Apart from the sudden surge in his libdo, Derek had started to see his arrival as an escape rather than abduction from his life. He couldn't remember the last time he was so riled up yet relaxed.
Deb was fun and easy to be with. So easy to be with. She didn't remind him of the shit storm his life was before Peaksville. Hell, he couldn't even remember Peaksville as his hands held her steady while his hips rocked from underneath her. His grip relaxed and he slid his hands up her torso under the gown, cupping each of her breasts.
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But it was just for a moment before her he slid his fingers over her skin. She shivered a bit when he touched her thighs, and there was a rather large smirk on her face at that. Really, she was just fucking pleased that the Hyde bullshit was over. This? This she could fucking easily deal with.
It was fucking easy to forget that there had been the worm hole, in some ways it was almost like Deb had a drink or smoked a fucking joint in addition to losing her clothing to have them spread around the room like they had been tossed in the throes of passion. She was dimly aware of the fact that he wasn't bleeding anymore, something to be fucking grateful for.
She leaned down and kissed him quickly, oddly feeling rather unsubconscious about the still pink and raised scar on her side from the bullet that she'd taken when that fucking bitch killed Frank. Most of the time she would actively try to protect it, hide it even, but here she didn't give a flying fuck.
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How the hell could he be ravenous in one moment, ready to rape a woman but so easy now? His erection flexed at her shiver as if to remind Deb that there was still a task at hand. Or maybe a warning. Mandingo, Derek wasn't but whoever believed that big hands and big feet only meant it was harder for him to find gloves and shoes, were sadly mistaken.
"What? This could be our anniversary, Sweetheart. We might be blissfully spending a night away from the kids in celebration."
His tone remained playful and obviously amused. The laughter was swallowed by a hungrier kiss. Friction generated from a steady rock underneath her, coupled with each hand equally teasing her tits. Mr Hyde was quickly resurfacing. Derek dropped his hands before squeezing too tight and yanked the gown up off her body.
"Play time's over, Kitten. You ready?" The seductive growl inquired earnestly. Full blown Mr Hyde would not have asked questions, much less wait for answers. With the garment out of the way, he palmed her ass and curled up to capture a nipple with his mouth. The position didn't allow him to grind against Deb but his hands could move her backside for pleasure from above.
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And then there was the less then subtle reminder of why they were in this fucking cheap-ass romantic interlude in the way he flexed against her. Arching her back, Deb shivered when he teased her tits, and then when he yanked the gown from her body, she groaned quickly into the kiss, giving the answer to the growl.
There was a subtle shifting in the air when there was the threat of Mr. Hyde's sudden fucking reappearance and it made her focus on the way he palmed her ass. The warmth of his mouth on her nipple made her gasp and purr. "Fuck yeah. Let's get this fucking show on the road." It wasn't the most artful or seductive or romantic way of instigating sex, but ya did whatever the fuck you had to do.
"But don't fucking call me kitten." Deb quickly put her hand on Derek's head, and her voice was husky, more so than normal. "Alright, you're running this show, sparky, how the fuck do you wanna do this." Normally, back in the real world, Deb would have been wicked fucking worried about finding a condom and safe sex and all those aforementioned shit machines... but somehow here it didn't seem like any of that shit fucking mattered.
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She no doubt felt just how serious as his ass maneuvered under her and aligned his hardened length at her center. The matching bottom to the gown she wore was never going to be seen. His hands took a firm grasp at each side and ripped it apart at the seams. Derek pulled the barrier from behind and tossed it from the bed.
Her mouth really did instigate his intentions. He had to have been an idiot to think there would be a different side of Deb between the sheets. Maybe West wasn't a heartless bastard after all. It seemed like their new location would be void of interruptions. That would hopefully be a good thing. The Fed was definitely in no state of mind to remember protection or even discretion.
She had growled back some kind of response when he asked if she was ready. Fine by him. Derek would take that as a yes. "Anything you say, Baby." His mouth returned to teasing her breasts while his hips shuffled and rocked until he found her entrance. "Damn, you're wet. Think you need this more than I do," he managed to tease and give her nipples a break.
The need would hopefully continue to work in his favor. Derek had not fucked in a lot longer than he cared to really think about. Or maybe it was simply the sensation of having sex without a condom. His body trembled after fully entering her. He threw his head back and grabbed her hips. Deb might have been on top but he easily benched her weight, lifting and lower her at a steady pace.
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And then the fabric was gone, somewhere away from them. Deb laughed at that, because it seemed like something just completely fucking outside of her life. Really, this all fucking did. Normally she'd be pissed as hell that someone ripped her panties. Deb's nails raked lightly against Derek's side, scoring the flesh the slightest bit when he rocked against her entrance. A hitch of breath, sharp and demanding followed, because god damn, they were actually going to have sex.
Deb hadn't had sex since the night that Frank had been shot. Granted, she'd come pretty fucking close to it with Kirk twice now, but it hadn't happened. Biting her lip on a comment that she could have made about the situation, Deb decided that Derek didn't fucking need anything to ruminate over later; he'd have enough to fucking worry about.
As a woman who liked to be on top, Deb reached out and grasped the velvet-covered headboard for support. She tossed her head back as he entered her, and moaned loudly, gasping. It felt fucking weird to have sex without a condom, but in a good fucking way. Debra Morgan was always Miss Safe-Motherfucking-Sex, even in partners whom she considered long term. Lord knew she'd had enough relationships go south on her to know that even the most long term things were pretty transient.
When he lifted her weight, Deb moaned even more, one hand pressing against his abs. God damn, maybe she owed Mr. West something nice after all.
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However, Tamara Barnes was the farthest thing from his mind. He hadn't thought of her since arriving in Peaksville. Hell, it may have been a while before even arriving that she last went through his mind. Derek did think of his family and co-workers when he allowed himself to ruminate about his life at all in the surreal world he was living in.
There was a lot more bad than there was good in his life before meeting West. With Debra seeming more than capable to take what he literally threw at her from underneath, Derek reverted to his original theory that this was all just a dream. "I think someone's done this before," he taunted, ceasing from controlling her rise and fall.
Derek didn't think of West or of Peaksville or of whether or not he was in a conscious state. He rocked his hips to meet her descent and drive fully into Deb. There was nothing delicate or tender about the union but he didn't grab her throat to fuck her either. His needs were being met. There was no need to force what was being readily given.
"Let's see who's gonna finish first," he growled and slid his right hand up her thigh until the pad of his thumb found her clit. The truth was that Derek wasn't going to last long. At least, not as long as he could have if he didn't have the damn surge of hormones. Then again, he didn't remotely feel as if he would be spent at first climax.
There was definitely some kind of spell on the male Morgan. Otherwise it would have dawned on him that finishing inside a woman without a condom led to the possible creation of life and doing it more than once only tipped the scale to that outcome. His only thought was finding that release and doing it over and over again.
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And then there was the growl. Deb had to admit that she was finding that growl just a little bit sexy, which was something that confused her. She definitely was the sort of person who talked at the whole kinky shit, but when it came down to it, nothing was as plain old fashioned fucking. (And maybe handcuffing someone else. Deb definitely didn't want to be fucking handcuffed or restrained ever. Thank you, Brian Motherfucking Dickcheese Mosher.) And then his hand moved along her thigh.
Deb wasn't ever going to stop someone from helping her get off faster and she writhed when he slid his hand over her clit. She moaned even louder when he touched her, the little shivering in her spine becoming rather fucking continuous. Groaning, she moved against him faster and harder, not wanting to let him win and at the same time wanting to reach her climax herself. "Fuck," she groaned, and she chewed on her lower lip. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck."
It had been too fucking long since she'd done this, and god knew she had a lot of stress building up inside her, even before there was this fucked up fuckery. She didn't think about the fact that he wasn't wearing a condom, and that she sure the fuck wasn't on birth control here. (There was no fucking advil, and the pill probably hadn't been invented yet.) All she cared about was how good this felt, and she leaned over and licked Derek's neck quickly.
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His hand slid from between them as she lowered and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You won that round. One good turn deserves another," he panted into her hair. There was a slight chuckle to his words. Not to mention, a familiar husky growl. Derek was too far gone to think about lack of birth control. None of this shit was real.
Yet...
The feel and scent of it all was giving some of his best dreams a run for their money. Deb, her sassy ass and foul mouth, was not the type of woman conjured up in his wet dreams. Something else that didn't happen in his sex dreams was his skin dampened with sweat. None of his deterred Derek from wanting another round. He had no inclination to cease and desist.
One arm wrapped tight around her torso and he rolled their joined bodies over on the mattress. His chest flexed as he rose up in a push up stance over her only to lower and suck on her neck. He alternated between teasing her skin with his tongue then teeth before growling against it while his hips started a light thrust. "That all you can take?"
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When he wrapped his arms around her waist, Deb moaned contentedly. A small part of her just wanted to roll over and fall asleep and somehow hope that when they woke up everything would be back to normal and they didn't need to go back and see a fucking weepy doctor and Jim fucking Kirk with a pipe and House doing whatever the fuck House happened to be doing.
When he rolled her over for another round, Deb grinned, and one of her legs moved over the back of his, tracing up and down the sculpted muscle of his calf. There was a little bit of a squeal when he used his teeth on her neck and breath that was already harsh became even more so.
Then he taunted her with the question of if that was all that she could take, and Deb snickered in his face. "You fucking wish, Morgan."
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Derek no longer knew what part of him was the haywire libido at work or his own neglected sex drive. He might not have had the reputation of Captain Kirk but he sure as hell had a few admirers of his own. Good service had a tendency of repeat business along with advertising. In his experience, women were a lot worse at kissing and telling than he was.
Not that he made it a habit to sleep around the Bureau. His policy was not to mess with women who carried but there were plenty of women who fit that bill in his travels and even at Quantico. Morgan never lacked a willing participant in the bedroom. It was his recent desire to have more than roll in the hay that had left him in a dry spell.
This with Deb, however, wasn't nearly as complicated. Part due to his take that he was stuck in a dream world. With that notion, all bets were off. His need had gone into overdrive and apparently the Missus had her own embers burning. Women who carry might have some repressed aggression to work out more than he ever considered.
She didn't need a lot to get her fire going for the first round and was raring for another. That was a good thing since Derek seemed intent on the second round being a little more physical. He slipped his left arm around her hips and lifted her for a better angle while holding themselves up with his right.
While his intentions were to fuck Deb mindless, it was Derek who sounded the part as he grunted with every other thrust. The angle should have been a way to hit her g-spot but it also allowed him to sink in deeper. Sweat glistened his skin which reduced the friction against her inner thighs but also made it difficult to hold her up.
"Fuck this," he growled and pulled her to the mattress edge with him. The bed was a good height even for nineteen fifty whatever the fuck it was. He slipped his arm from around Deb and returned to the push up stance to hold himself up. Derek hooked one arm at a time under her thighs then commenced to steady hammer Deb once again.
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