
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/338526.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Push_(2009)
  Relationship:
      Nick_Gant/Cassie_Holmes
  Character:
      Nick_Gant, Cassie_Holmes
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_XIII_(Lucky_Thirteen)
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-02-12 Words: 1527
****** All Right and Satisfied ******
by victoria_p_(musesfool)
Summary
     Nick loves when Cassie's like this, her slim frame as powerful as a
     Mack truck when she rolls over him and uses him every way she can to
     get off.
Notes
     For the porn battle prompt: Nick/Cassie, aggressive. Cassie is 17 in
     this. Title from Gaslight Anthem. Thanks to DevilDoll for looking it
     over.
The thing about being on the run from a shady, super-secret, international,
quasi-governmental agency is that it wreaks absolute havoc on your sex life.
Nick knows this from experience. Since he and Cassie began sleeping together--
not a development he expected the day she barged into his apartment and
demanded he put his gun down--he can count on two hands the number of times
they've been able to give it as much time as he'd like, and still have fingers
left over. They've gotten good at fucking hard and fast when the opportunity
arises, and really, if the trade-off for being interrupted during sex is being
alive to actually have sex, he'll take it, but he fantasizes about being able
to take his time, about being able to spend hours making Cassie come over and
over without worrying that spooks with guns are going to burst through the door
at any moment.
"We're safe," she says as he slams the door to the farmhouse behind him.
They're somewhere in the south of France, and he'd appreciate that a lot more
if people weren't constantly shooting at him. "They bought the deke and are
looking for us on the train to Moscow."
"Really?" He drops their bags with a thump and heads to the sink to wash his
face and grab a drink of water. "Anyone else we need to worry about?"
She grins. "Not for a few days, at least."
"Whew. Okay, good." He swallows a few more handfuls of water and wipes his face
on the hem of his t-shirt.
"I'm going to unpack the food," Cassie says. "Why don't you go take a shower?"
"Are you implying that I smell?" he asks, crowding her up against the cabinet
and leaning in for a kiss.
"No," she answers, wrinkling her nose and pushing him away. "I'm saying that
you stink." But she tips her face up and laughs into his kiss before she slips
away. "Go. The sooner you go, the sooner I can."
"We could save water, shower together," he says, waggling his eyebrows.
She laughs. "Maybe we could."
But the tub isn't big enough for that, and he just wants to get clean, so he
swats her on the ass and laughs at her squeak of false outrage before he turns
the water on as hot as it will go and strips down.
The shower feels good, but once he's clean and relaxed, and the last dregs of
the adrenaline from the three-day chase across Europe are gone, he's sleepy. He
lies down on the big bed with its array of fluffy pillows, and falls asleep
before Cassie can start yelling at him for using all the hot water.
He wakes up, startled, from a really good dream, which disappears immediately
when he sees Cassie crawling up the bed between his legs, her hands skimming
over his skin. She's as naked as he is, and still warm from her own shower, and
though she's dried her hair, the slight dampness of it raises goosebumps when
the ends sweep over his thighs and belly. She dips forward to place a kiss on
the head of his half-hard cock, then slips her mouth down over it, tongue
pressed flat against the shaft, and suddenly, he's hard and aching.
She raises her head, licks her lips, and grins at him. He loves her like this--
confident, sexy, not shy about asking for what she wants, about taking it,
especially since what she wants is him. They'd both been awkward at the start--
he'd been convinced he was too old and also kind of terrified her mother could
see that she'd sent her daughter to a pervert, and she'd been sixteen and
uncertain about everything, but especially about whether he really wanted her,
despite what her visions were telling her. It had taken a few months of slowly
easing forward, of trying to steal time and privacy to learn each other's
bodies and desires, but it had been worth it to hold her in his arms as she
shook apart, his name on her lips.
Now, she sits back on his thighs and contemplates him, tapping her chin with
her index finger. He doesn't need her to tell him what she wants, though; he
puts his hands on her legs, thumbs the soft skin of her inner thighs before
running his fingers over the pink folds of her cunt. She's already slick and
hot, and she pushes her hips forward into the touch, encouraging him with the
heavy exhale of her breath.
"Oh," she says, "that's good."
She shifts off him to lie beside him, pressing her mouth to his and grabbing
his hand and putting it back where it was so he can finger her while they kiss.
She pants into his mouth, and he holds her close, two fingers pushing in and
out of her while he flicks at her clit with his thumb. The teasing makes her
clutch at him, fingernails digging into his arm as she pushes up into his hand,
making hungry little sounds that he swallows. She rubs at her nipples, and he
breaks off kissing her so he can lick and suck at them, enjoying the way it
makes her writhe against him, her whole body straining for release.
"Come on, Cassie," he murmurs against the curve of her breast, the hollow of
her throat.
Her whole body goes taut for a moment, and then she clenches down on his
fingers, low guttural moans tearing from her throat. He strokes her through it,
and she's still fluttering with the aftershocks when she pushes his hand away
so she can sling a leg over and sink down onto his cock.
He loves when she's like this, her slim frame as powerful as a Mack truck when
she rolls over him and uses him every way she can to get off.
She pushes her hands into her hair and arches her back as she rolls her hips,
because she knows he loves watching her, loves seeing how good he makes her
feel. He grabs her hips so he can slow her down a little, set a more leisurely
pace. She growls in response and he laughs, tugging her forward so he can kiss
and bite at her mouth while they fuck. She feels so good, tight and hot and
slick, still pulsing with her first orgasm and already begging him for the
second. She rubs her tits against his chest, and he skims his hands up and down
the ladder of her spine, digs his fingers into the perfect curves of her ass.
He rolls them over, tilts her hips up so he can go deeper, and she wraps her
legs around his hips, meets his thrusts with her own, her mouth hot against his
neck and chest, her teeth sharp in his lower lip as she comes again, moaning
into his mouth.
Nick lets himself go, then, pumps into her, all rhythm lost as he feels hot
pleasure roll through his body like the tide so he can beach himself on her
shore.
He raises himself off of her when he's done, props his head up on the pillows,
because he knows what comes next when she's like this: the thump of her knees
on either side of his ears, and then the glistening pink folds and honey blonde
hair of her cunt as she presses forward, still slick with his come. That part
is still sort of new--she stopped off at a clinic a few weeks ago, came back to
the hotel room with a big smile and the news that they didn't have to worry
about condoms anymore, because she'd gotten a Mirena.
Nick grabs her ass and pulls her the rest of the way to his mouth, the taste of
his come mixed with hers as heady as any booze he's ever drunk.
She sways and bows above him, her voice a thin, breathless chant muffled by her
thighs as she urges him on. "Please, Nick, oh god, please. Come on, Nick. I
need you so bad. Oh my god, Nick, please."
He licks and sucks and fucks her with his tongue, breathes through his nose and
every breath he takes is filled with the scent of her, of them, until she comes
a third time, with a high whine that sounds like his name. He holds onto her
thighs as she rides it out; when she lifts herself off of him, he presses a
hand between her legs to wring every last bit of it out of her, and then he
gathers her close and tucks her under his chin when she's done.
"Thank you," she whispers, kissing him and then wiping his face clean with the
sheet.
"My pleasure," he answers, smiling. "We really have a few days here without
trouble?"
"Yeah."
"Then we'll have to do this again, a lot slower."
"Mmm," she says, already half-asleep. He lies awake for a while, thinking about
all the different things they can do while they have the time and the space to
do them in.
end
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