Feeling his weight on top of her was more comforting than Lucy Gray had expected it to be. She was used to feeling suffocated by the space around her but this just felt like he was grounding her, keeping her from floating farther and farther away from everything as she had been for so long now. His assaults on her neck are relentless, his facial hair scraping at her like he's truly trying to eat her and going for her jugular to make it a quick death. His fingers are gripping her everywhere so forcefully she's certain it'll leave little bruises patterning her skin with blue, black, purple and green and she can't find it in herself to be bothered. Not when he's grinding against her center in exactly the right place, or when everything else he was doing felt as good as it did. She wasn't entirely in control of what her body was doing and for whatever reason that just felt like a relief.
Coriolanus wasn't entirely sure this was happening. He can feel her, smell her, taste her. But it's been so long since Lucy Gray had approximated anything like desire that he wasn't sure she was even still attracted to him. Pitied him, maybe. But not lust. That didn't stop his attraction to her, his love for her. He loved her against convenience, against her wishes, against reason. He's ecstatic she's proven him wrong. If his life has taught him anything, his job specifically, it's that tomorrow isn't promised. So if this was the last night he got with her, he wants to make the most of it and die with a smile. It's likely not, but why take the gamble?
To feel her underneath him, eagerly pulling him against her and letting him cover her in his mouth was reducing him to an ape, an animal, down to his nakedness. Unlike his Lucy Gray, she even now held herself in a way he's seemingly never able to around her. He felt his erection staining the silky material of her sleeping shorts in his slickness and grinds down unconsciously, just seeking more touch from her. He only detached his lips from her neck to crawl down her body.
He looks at her core and pushes the leg of her shorts to the side to see her own wetness and decides it's not enough. He doesn't bother going slow, he starts sucking and licking at her bud and sticking a finger inside her and relishes in the reaction he gets from her and wishing he could hear her initial gasps repeat in his mind until he went mad.
If her insides were different than they were the last time he'd had her, he couldn't immediately tell, nor did he care. A year and a half he hasn't touched her, hasn't had her touch him and over twelve years before that. It was torture what, she did to him and he was convinced she enjoyed it. He wasn't sure he'd last very long in the first round but he had no intention of there only being one. He's not sure when he'll get this again, he's not going to eat it all in one bite. He's going to savor her.
He crawls back up and has her pinned against the mattress with his weight, exploring with one hand and pleasuring her with the other while her soft mews and barely audible moans hit his ears. He doesn't bother to take off her clothes, there'll be plenty of time for that later. He just keeps the shorts aside, he slowly starts stroking it up & down in her slit to dampen himself with her and plunges himself into her through them, flooding with a kind of relief he can't pin as she slowly engulfed him.
"Ah-Aah-ah!"
She'd yelled briefly, but if he heard her he didn't acknowledge it.
She's healed, had three babies (two of whom had woken up from her screams) but this might as well be her first time again. Granted, it's only her third but it feels so different after giving birth so recently. There's pain, but not so much that she's not enjoying herself despite the initial shock. Still, she can't help but clench reflexively every time he pushes himself into her but that only seems to encourage him. He shoves down the delicate, lacy jade top she's wearing and ends up ripping it to watch her chest bounce up and down knowing they're filling back up with milk, vaguely wondering if that hurts her but delighting too much in the view to stop.
Her eyes are barely, drowsily open, trying to focus entirely on how good he's making her feel, on the stinging in her entrance, paired with the wet pleasure and every thrust he makes. He leans down to kiss her, and she kisses back. Sloppily, not trying to fight him at all, just letting his tongue invade her mouth, his goatee scrape against her lips and chin and hearing his grunts.
