raisethelaw:
She doesn’t hold back her laugh at how drunk off his ass Jack is. Nisha isn’t so considerate, and gives his brown locks a sharp tug. She knows how much he enjoys it, if his low moan isn’t hint enough. The gunslinger decides to indulge him a little. This is supposed to be a break, after all.
“Tell ya’ what. You buy me some gold lipstick and I’ll wear it. Maybe.” She trails her fingers down the sides of his head and down to his exposed neck, petting the skin under his jaw. She smirks, sweet as poison, when he leans in harder, brows furrowed. Jack’s weakness is in the palms of her hands, quite literally, and there’s nothing that gives her a greater thrill.
“Uhh, really? Cause I might–” He unconsciously moves his hips, soft and rhythmic, matching the time of her stroking fingers. “I might have some around–” He gasps hard when her fingers tighten. He’s fuzzy headed, moonshine bogging down his mind and the blood-flow to his nether-regions. But goddamned if it wasn’t trying. He covers her hands with his own, fingers sliding warm together as he sighs something that sounds suspiciously like the cowgirl’s name.
raisethelaw:
Keep reading
“Ni–shaaa…” He draws his knees up and spreads his legs a little wider, but it doesn’t occur to him to touch himself just yet. He feels like he needs her permission. He can feel the edges of his vision blur and his heart pound where she’s clenching his throat. His panting only makes her grip rougher. She could probably kill him if she was so inclined, just keep squeezing until he can no longer breathe, and he slips into sweet death at her hands. He won’t lie about the fact it’s one hell of a turn on for him. He’s sobering up and now painfully hard in his trousers, and he fumbles one-handed with the loop of his belt before he can finally slide a hand down the front of his pants.
raisethelaw:
Keep reading
Jack makes a choked noise, overwhelmed by the stimulus and his blood alcohol content levels. His vision goes more white by the second and he strokes his cock in duet with her rhythmic clenching fingers. He’s not going to last much longer, and it’s reflected in the volume and pitch of his gasping moans. The CEO occasionally drags a kicking heel across the carpet, twitchy and on the edge and waiting for Nisha to push him over it.
raisethelaw:
Keep reading
He comes and it feels like a hammer to his chest, air rushing back into his lungs as the blood rushes back into his head and it feels like a crashing wave against the cliffside. Intense and violent until it’s washed away with the tide, and he’s left trying to catch his breath and with a wetness in his pants. His throat burns and he’s drained and limp, barely able to make an appreciative sound, even at the petting of his hair. When his heart rate finally comes down and his breathing evens out, he tilts his head back, peering at the cowgirl with sleepy eyes.
raisethelaw:
Keep reading
Jack stretches his limbs before settling back down, grimacing at the mess in his boxer-briefs, and coughs to clear his hoarsened throat.
“Yeah– ahem– I’d say that uh, did the trick.” He strokes her leg absentmindedly, fully prepared to fall asleep in his position on the floor between them. He could worry about clean up later, he’s too damn tired now. They haven’t been seeing each other for very long, but Nisha is already a professional at blowing his mind; in bed and out of it.