(no subject)

[nowwhipit]

WHO: Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades
WHAT: Payback in the best of ways.
WHERE: Their room in the tavern of Lindenfeld.
WARNING(S): NC-17

[Who could have possibly thought dragging the carcass of a night creature into the nearest town would be so fruitful? A man simply named 'Judge' approached them upon entry of his small village going by the name of Lindenfeld, kind enough to offer the pair housing for their services despite Trevor's initial reluctance.

After questioning the local populace in search of answers and in Trevor's case a nice cold ale, the Belmont was quick to bite his tongue, boorish exclamation of the delectable beverage better than sex perhaps his undoing.

However...when the moon was full and the monster hunters retired to their provided room Sypha was quick to pin him against the door with a loud thud.]

Sypha...What are you-
 

[Words cut short as deft fingers plucked the fastenings of his pants, falling to the floor unceremoniously as a hand wrapped about his flaccid cock for the time being. Biting his lower lip to suppress a wanton groan, Trevor chuckled softly as a hand of his own moved to the tender flesh of Sypha's cheek.]

Christ.

[It would seem she was hellbent on making him eat those words and prove him wrong...as always.]

Comments

[oratoris]

[She knew that a lot of it was just the first thing that came to his mind, but that didn't mean that she wasn't stubborn enough to show him how wrong he was. Her fingers toyed along his length, stroking down than back up, settling to wrap around him, a particular light in her eyes. Her gaze flicked upwards at his touch, and she hummed.]

Christ has nothing to do with this...

[No, this was all Trevor, doing his usual Trevor thing, which typically included opening his mouth and then inserting his foot. One might think that he had gotten tired of the taste of it, but there he had gone again, making some comment, which was why they were in this particular position in the first place.

She leaned in, and really, Trevor should be glad she didn't give his balls a little bit of frostbite, as if ale was better, he wouldn't need them, right? Thankfully she liked all his parts, and did desire them to be working at the moment. Her free hand moved over his hip, crawling up beneath his shirt.]

Although I do believe that you need a reminder about certain things.

[nowwhipit]

[Trevor was definitely known for his stupidity at the best of times, blurting out the first thing that came to mind often, even more so when intoxicated beyond all repair. His counterpart saw fit to squash any hopes of such this fateful evening but considering the current state of affairs could not complain too much now.

The hand upon Sypha's cheek moves to the back of her head, threading through golden locks as she works her small digits around his filling length until quickly standing at full mast. God damn it he was really eating his words from earlier now and it was just what she wanted, Trevor wantonly wrapped about her fingers, quite literally in fact.]

Fuck- Sypha.

[Immediately clashing his lips against her supple own in a needy embrace, hips bucking into the tight grip about his prominent arousal now. Pulling away satisfied a sincere yet strained smile forms over his features.]

I may have spoke too soon earlier. Would it help my case if I said I was sorry?

[oratoris]

[He has improved. She would give him that much. It's not like Sypha would think about pissing in his cup again, although freezing it in his cup, or boiling it, are both still viable options.

Her eyes remain on his, feeling his calloused fingers shift to splay in her short hair. She's aware of how he grows, thicker, firmer, to her teasing, until he's completely erect to her touch. Can a drink do that, Treffy? It isn't vocalized, but the expression on her face may well say that as her grip tightens a little, especially when he says her name like that.

But he's there, shutting her up one of the best ways, by occupying her mouth, and it is her own soft moan as he presses back up against her. Oh, but then he has to go and talk again. Her hand turns, to run a finger up from the base of his cock, to the very tip, holding her index finger poised there.]

You may have?

[nowwhipit]

[The heir to the Belmont name knew that look all too well by now after countless arguments ultimately lost in the end. Eyes locked in unison as Sypha diligently worked his cock with extreme precision, Trevor could have never guessed this would be his punishment for such a bold and quite frankly stupid proclamation. Jaw goes slack as she switches her technique, index finger swiping over the particularly sensitive crown, flaring at attention to make him weak at the knees.

Free hand moves to the Speaker's hip to grip tightly onto the fabric of her robe as he watches on intently for a minute or two longer before finally mustering up the courage to speak once more.]

By God- Y-Yes- Alright?

[How could he be such a fool to even utter such idiocy as his lover crept her other hand up his tunic, quick to help rid himself of yet another article of clothing to stand in the bluff save for his boots which would be toed off rather quickly now. Holding Sypha gingerly in his grasp, a flash of red tints his cheeks and its clearly not from the ale she so handsomely decided to deny him. Beads of precum begin to form at the tip, quickly smeared into the head to help better lubricate her soft digits in comparison to his own, a woman's touch and all that they always say.]

[oratoris]

[She is well aware that at times all she needs to do is make eye contact with him, and all his protests would go away. It has come in handy time and time again, and likely will again in the future. He probably understands that expression in her eyes now as her index continues to toy, circling around, much like a cat playing with its prey.

A breath is sucked in as he grips at her hips, feeling the press of his fingers, but if he thinks that answer will appease her, he is wrong. So very wrong. Still, she takes her time, lest he think to ever make such a proclamation again in the future, to remind him how wrong he is.]

I'm sorry... Is that a yes, Sypha, my goddess, I am an utter fool of a man who deserves not your gentle touch.

[Again her hold on his switches, back to grasping him, a firmer touch in contrast to her statement moments ago, her thumb now stroking lazy circles around his head.]