unbr8kable | continuations

[Possibly she hitches forward if it does, loosing a small, surprised little sound]

[Either way, she doesn't seem particularly fussed by any delays with her bra, more than a little distracted with the wisps of his touches and the kisses over her middle, regardless of tongue hints. The hand at his head sifts through his hair; the other runs unfocused down to his neck and shoulder, restless and trying to be careful all at once]

[Another kiss, to her lower abdomen - another, slightly lower, this one with a hint of tongue again]

[When her bra eventually comes free, he runs his hands back downward - over the swell of her breasts and the curve of her waist. Down and down, until they reach her outer thighs, and one slips inward, to search between them]

[She groans, light, and shivers closer as he skims over her body--shrugs her bra off her shoulders but her arms come back up around him afterwards, warm against him.

There's no resistance but goosebumps as he brushes over her legs; the light sound at the back of her throat is welcoming if anything, certainly nothing to stop him from traveling where he wishes]

[He hums, considering - continues to let his hand drift upward, checking to see if the mess she made still needs cleaning, or if most of it was cleared away with the panties]

[All the while, his lips draw idle trails across her low abdomen, peppering her stomach and hips]

[Much of the earlier mess was indeed discarded, though fresh mess oozes forward even as he checks--she hitches up into him, leaving a slick sheen behind. Her hand drifts back to his hair, slow and distracted]

Nn--Jacob...

Man... lookit you.

[He trails his thumb through the new patch of slickness, voice soft and appreciative]

Guess we better get you cleaned up.

[She shudders out a breath, hitching into that thumb before she can help herself. Eyes falling shut, her hands twitch at his shoulders]

Yes--yeah. You can.

[Another kiss, soft, to her inner thigh]

...don't gotta be quiet this time, if you don't wanna. Ain't no one around to hear but me.

[And with that, he leans in, licking a stripe up between her lips, to end on that sensitive nub in the front, laving it generously with his tongue]

Oh--ahh fuck--

[Her hips jitter forward, warm and wet and ready for him, snagging against his tongue with an urgent sigh. The grip on his shoulders tightens as she rocks forward, leaning further into his attentions, and it's a long beat before she thinks to respond]

...You...you're a lot.

[Another long lick, just as thorough, following the same path as before - then a third]

[At length, he eases back, just a little]

...the good kinda a lot, or the bad kinda a lot?

[Another curse as she arches into him, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. But this fades to a small whimper as he withdraws, and her hips chase after until she catches herself.]

No... 'S good. You're good.

[She brings a hot, shaky hand up to cup his cheek; brush light over the side of his neck]

[At that, his smile goes soft and a little crooked. He can't quite help but lean into her hand, turning toward the touch - can't quite help but press a kiss to her palm, infinitely gentle]

[For a moment he stays there, seeming to bask in the warmth of the touch, or perhaps the words themselves]

[Then he runs a hand up her thigh again, deliberate, and the smile takes on a slightly more mischievous quirk]

Bet I can do better.

[And with that he leans in again, leading with those same long, exploratory licks that end with a soft lap at her clit]

Ah-hh. Bet you can...

[The final n turns into a long and breathy exhalation as his tongue catches under her hood. She hitches right back up into him, shamelessly shifting her hips to give him better access. A hand drifts to his hair, threading in its strands]

Nn... Jacob...

[He makes an inquisitive sort of sound, without leaving off what he's doing - a wordless little "mm?" that probably comes with some nice vibrations, considering that he hasn't bothered to pull back]

[As she shifts her hips to give him access, he takes advantage of the better angle - refocuses his attention on the spot that earned that breathy exhalation before. His tongue makes gentle little kitten laps right up against the hood, short and sharp and frequent. And if he leans a little into the touch of her hand in his hair - shifts a little where he's kneeling on the floor - surely he can't be blamed]

[If anyone is laying blame, it certainly is not her--the answering cry to his question is light, and--if anything--needy. Face flushed dark, her fingers tighten against his scalp as his tongue speeds, her other hand staying at his shoulder but brushing a regular rhythm against his collarbone--matching the movements of his tongue, just about]

[He shivers, softly, under the gentle brushing of her fingers - tips his head more blatantly into the tug against his scalp]

[That soft cry seems to encourage him; the attentions of his tongue become more focused, more intent, with those same little laps holding a steady rhythm now. His hand makes its idle way up her inner thigh, slow but pointed; his fingers dip between her lips, tracing an exploratory back and forth to tease at her entrance]

[Automatic, she rocks back into the touch--forward to hitch into his tongue--back again in a stuttered rhythm. A fresh roil of arousal begins to gloss his fingertips as her voice begins to rise. Her grip on him tightens even more, as if to steady herself]

[He shifts again, where he kneels there between her legs - reaches one of his fingers up and in, toward the heat and wet of her entrance]

[The soft lapping of his tongue pauses and doesn't resume; instead, he seals his lips around her clit and provides suction, the way that always seems to get such a good reaction. The finger inside eases further - crooks a little, and curls - and -]

[And that's about when the tub starts running over]

[She starts to call his name and gets distracted; hangs on the vowel for long, panting bars as he sucks hard enough that her knees wobble. She holds onto him for dear life--can't help but squeeze around his finger, pulse pounding as he hooks further inside her, and it feels--intense--wet and heated--actually pretty hot and maybe too wet and she thinks--]

--The tub!

[Right, right, should turn that off right uh god]

[His mouth leaves off what it's doing with a startled sort of squawk; his eyes go wide, and his knees are suddenly very wet indeed as the bath water - and a fair portion of suds - sloshes out over onto the floor]

[He withdraws his finger with a wet sound that's not entirely swallowed by the running water - makes a lunge for the faucets with his clean hand, to try and fumble them off]

[She makes an embarrassing noise as he exits; shudders after him when he pulls away. And then goes to back him up, ready for any waters that might pass through Jacob's defenses]

I-I can get the far one--

Thanks. Uh - sorry, I -

I kinda forgot the tub. Uh - I can clean this stuff up, after.

[Wheezes, finally getting the tap shut. The tub looks more like one of those waterfall fountains, the remaining ripples washing up and over the sides.

She looks at him from where she's stretched across the tub to keep it from making a mess and begins to laugh]

[It takes him a beat or two, to stop fussing enough to realize how dumb they must look - how dumb the whole situation is, the floor now pink and glittery from the bath bomb, sheets of water still sloshing out onto the floor]

[Then he's laughing, too - until he's weak with it, leaning his weight against her knees]

[It takes a while for her laughter to die down--to stay down, instead of bubbling back up into fresh giggles when she stares at him for too long. This time, at least, she manages words between snickers]

Oh my god. Why is it this color?

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