The rest of the world mutes, even though he never quite forgets that there's eyes on them –– he doesn't want them to. He wants them to see him treating her well, being a worthy lover. He wants them to see how pleased she is.
He doesn't have an answer for her beyond a soft groan against her, something satisfied, or approaching it. A quickening of his pace, hungry.
Clive isn’t sure he could suck at her clit harder, his tongue a steady pressure as he does. His fingers curl against his thighs and on second thought move to hold the edge of the bench, backs of his fingers inches from the underside of her thighs. He will follow orders.
And then she speaks. Founder, are they? Do they wish they were in her place, in his? They don’t get to be. Clive makes a sound approaching a whimper, knuckles white as he grips the bench.
Jill keeps her focus on the contrast between her pale fingers and his dark hair, gripping as gently as she can, and resisting the desire to just smother him between her thighs. When she moans his name, it's loud enough for those closest to hear.
She spares a hand from his hair to cover his hand, holding. Terrible rule, the no touching. She finds herself aching for his hands on her, and the little groan of desperation might be an indication of such.
He knows she wants more. He’s not sure how much he can give her, eating her enthusiastically as he is, without reaching up inside her and fucking her with his fingers, stroking her from the inside. Just the thought makes him want to, and when she reaches for his hand, he thinks she might want him to.
“The pool,” he manages, between breaths, “would be worth it.”
He comes up for proper air for a moment, cheek pressed against her thigh, beard wet. He meets her eyes, and then deliberately takes a hand from the bench and puts it on her, dragging his palm over her belly.
An outlaw, truly. Jill watches him with an amused smile and leans down to kiss him, enjoying the taste of herself on his mouth. Enjoying that others are watching, even if only occasionally.
"To the pool with you, for your misbehavior," Jill says solemnly, taking his hand.
Clive rises on his knees a little, his other hand gliding up her thigh and right to her cunt. He cups her with a subtle enthusiasm, two fingers slipping between her wet lips to press against her entrance.
"Who has brought you so close to release, if not me?"
She trails off as he aims to make her lose her mind. Jill gives him a look. He knows what he's doing, moving that slowly when her hips strain for more.
"Tomorrow," she agrees, pressing a kiss to his cheek while not-so-subtly trying to fuck herself on his fingers. "Perhaps you'll make love to me after."
Is she supposed to be able to hold a conversation when he fills her like that? Jill can only bask in how right it feels, how close he is, and how she wishes to see his face every day for the rest of her life. He's everything.
"Anywhere," she finally manages, breathing heavy. "Behind a closed door or where people can see. As long as I have you, I don't care."
"Like proper outlaws," she repeats, amused and breathless and looking at him lovingly. "Taking one another before so many eyes. I would want them all to see how good you are to me."
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He doesn't have an answer for her beyond a soft groan against her, something satisfied, or approaching it. A quickening of his pace, hungry.
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Some part of him must like the thrill.
She thinks some part of her does, too.
"They're watching you," she says, voice low so that only he can hear, breathing shallow. "Probably imagining how good your tongue is."
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And then she speaks. Founder, are they? Do they wish they were in her place, in his? They don’t get to be. Clive makes a sound approaching a whimper, knuckles white as he grips the bench.
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She spares a hand from his hair to cover his hand, holding. Terrible rule, the no touching. She finds herself aching for his hands on her, and the little groan of desperation might be an indication of such.
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“The pool,” he manages, between breaths, “would be worth it.”
To touch her. To make her come on his fingers.
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"You could touch me while in the pool, I'm sure."
And have some privacy while in plain sight.
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"To the pool with you, for your misbehavior," Jill says solemnly, taking his hand.
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"Have I not been good in many other ways?"
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"Other ways?" Doubt. The twitch at the corner of her mouth gives away any attempt to look truly lost in thought. "Please, refresh my memory."
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"Who has brought you so close to release, if not me?"
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"Oh, you meant today alone? Apologies."
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He pushes a fingertip in, just to the first knuckle, slow.
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She trails off as he aims to make her lose her mind. Jill gives him a look. He knows what he's doing, moving that slowly when her hips strain for more.
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"Maybe it wasn't a fine enough dinner."
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"Then you should take me to dinner again. A finer place."
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“In your bed? Or somewhere else…”
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"I think you'd like somewhere else. Somewhere new."
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“Where, then? Where will I take you?”
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"Anywhere," she finally manages, breathing heavy. "Behind a closed door or where people can see. As long as I have you, I don't care."
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"Anywhere we can get up to trouble together," he says. "Like proper outlaws."
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"I will. I'll do anything for you."
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