neverwrongagent | Running away from home. Just like kids.

Again, both the right and the not right thing to do, telling him how much she was enjoying this. Misfiring all over the place meant that all the wrong associations were being made. Not through any conscious effort on either of their parts, but it was still happening.

He finally let go of a breast so he could hold her in a kiss. Then he pulled her head back and started kissing her throat.

They'd work out the associations later, when he'd actually hear her. And hopefully over years together sober. By the time he was at her neck, she was shaking with pleasure. She wasn't going to last much longer and she was afraid she was going to explode.

A minute later, she went still in his arms, then bucked wantonly against him as her climax slammed into her.

When she came, he held her, thrusting up under her. He was still so far from another release that he just kept right on moving. There were going to be finger shaped bruises on her breasts and other parts of her if she let him have his way.

She wasn't going to mind the bruises. She wasn't going to even notice them until much longer. What she was going to notice was how he kept going like the Energizer Bunny. It suddenly clicked why and she groaned roughly. She was fine with it, but they were going to have to move.

She shifted her legs and forced him over, urging him up on top. One leg wrapped around his hips, drawing him deeper. "So good. No matter what. So good." She shook her head, realizing how that sounded. "Big beds, dirt, back seats of cars, I don't care. Just you."

He resisted her attempt to flip him for only a moment. Then he realized the potential with him on top. He shifted back up on his hands some so he could look down at her while he moved. With her leg hooked around him, he had permission to drive as hard and deep as she could handle, and perhaps a little more.

Carrie just wasn't built that way. She didn't have a whole lot, particularly during sex, that she couldn't handle. Even when her insides were feeling a little differently lately. She rocked against him, trying to find a counter rhythm that gave them longer strokes. When she found it, she cried out loudly. The moment she found her breath, she started begging for more.

That might not have been her best plan, but she meant it.

Oh, yeah, he could do more. He shifted back a little further and pulled her so her ass was more up on his thighs. It changed the angle he drove into her and gave him a lovely view down her body. He could see the places she was already starting to bruise, places he would feel guilty about when he was straight.

There was no feeling guilty allowed when he made her feel this good. He could feel stupid later, that was fine. She threw her head back, tossing it side to side as she continued to tell him how amazing he felt, how much she loved what he was doing. She rocked hard into him, lifting off the bed to thrust at him.

"Fuck. Love having you inside me."

There really was no denying her when she said the kind of things she was saying. He moaned her name, running his hand up along her belly between her breasts and to her neck. His fingers closed lightly, not enough to bruise, yet. But enough to cut off some of her air.

Her eyes went a little wide, then fluttered half closed as she leaned into his hand for a moment. As long as he was careful, she was fine with that. She arched toward him, lifting her back off the bed. It gave her throat a little relief and pressed her harder against his hips. She knew she had to look tiny beside him, but she felt amazingly powerful.

He tightened his hand a little more, then released her, his hand going back to her throat. He had enough sense to know that his hand on her neck could go bad very quickly. "Do you have any idea how hot you look?"

She would have laughed, but looking him over took that turned her brain to mush. All she could do was lick her lips hungrily and grind her hips into him. She looked him over again, taking in his straining muscles and flushed skin with a moan. If she looked half as good as he did, then she must look amazing.

The moan was lovely and he pinched her breast. "Like a wanton whore, begging to get fucked until you can't walk"

She laughed brightly, shaking her head again. Now she managed to answer him, although she sounded rough as hell. "Wanton? Sure. And I don't have to walk. We're driving tomorrow." And they'd have a solid night's sleep first. She'd need it.

She ignored the "whore" part. She'd known some lovely working girls. And she'd long since proved she'd be the utter wanton for him.

They were not going anywhere tomorrow, which was good since he was going to completely crash and burn when his high ended. And she was probably going to be beyond sore. He pinched her again, then attacked her exposed clit, fingers rough like they were on her breast.

"Oh FUCK!" That direct stimulation, even though it hurt, was more than she could take. She jerked mindlessly into him, thrashing on the bed, as her climax slammed into her. Even as she tried to get control she knew he wasn't anywhere near close.

She looked up at him, blinking hard. "So good."

His answer was a smirk, then he went right back to tormenting her breasts and clit. He had to find her limit, what she couldn't take anymore. Which, really, was a foolish thing for someone tweaking to undertaking when dealing with someone who was bipolar. It was like fire and gasoline. Nothing useful could come from it, but it would be spectacular.

Fire and gasoline. Their nicknames, really. He hadn't learned yet what she could really take, but he was on the right path. She twisted and arched under his abuse, starting to swear softly and urgently. Through it all she told him how good he felt. She couldn't help herself. It did feel that good.

As she got more inventive with her language, he had an idea. Without any warning, he took his hands off her completely and went still. It felt like one of the most difficult things he had ever done, not doing anything. He wanted to hear her beg.

It took her almost a minute to figure out he'd stopped since his body still gave her something to work against. Blinking up at him like a fool, she reached for him. At the last moment, she dropped her hand. "Brody?" She licked her lips. "What's wrong?"

He grinned. "Nothing. Well, almost nothing." He licked his lips, then grabbed her nipple and tugged hard.

Even as she jumped at the pinch, which made her clutch at him, she stared at him. He was messing with her in a way she didn't expect. "Don't sto--" She laughed weakly. "I mean the moving. The fucking me. Not just that." She glanced down at his hand.

He switched to the other nipple and pinched it just as hard. "Not going to stop fucking you, baby. Don't worry about that." He bucked into her, then shifted and pulled her up to his chest by her arms. The way he was kneeling meant he could keep moving while he kissed her.

She wriggled again, getting herself comfortably on his thighs, then wrapped her arms around his neck. This she could do, happily. The moment she felt secure, she started moving with him, pressing hard into the kiss. This position let her grind against him, which she did happily.

She'd seen the look in his eyes, she'd just dismissed it when he moved her. As long as they were still working toward one goal, they were okay. She hoped.

It might have been wasted hope. He drew his hands down her back, ending with an ass cheek in each hand. He moved with her, giving her a little more support. The kiss did not stay gentle for long, his teeth pressing against her lips after only a few moments. The longer he kissed her, the more his hands curled, nails leaving mark in her flesh.

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