(no subject)

[sweetsalome]

Just because school is off for Christmas break doesn't mean all of her other activities are.  There is still swim practice and ballet, everything in between.  Yeah, they have some days off, especially ballet, since their performance there is some down time before the next big thing comes along and they need to start working on that.  Salome still leaves the house early in the morning, this time for her run with the dog, or attempted run, the puppy doesn't have that whole 'lets run in a straight line with the mistress, yay! isn't this fun?' thing down yet.  So when she starts off on the run, she does only half of what she plans and then ends up carrying the ball of fur back.

It's alright, he's getting better.

After the run, there is swimming and time out of the house doing random errands and seeing random friends.  By the time that she gets back Salome is exhausted and falls asleep sprawled out on the rug with the puppy, cell phone in hand, pretty much a standard practice with any teenager born.

Usually she is more on point, but she is exhausted and didn't even think about where her father and Delilah might be.  Sometimes, it's like ships passing in the night with them.

Comments

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Ah, he remembers how much fun being in a cast was when he was young. Seven or eight, broke his arm because he was fooling around someplace he shouldn't have been. Then the one on his leg after the gunshot, that was even better. Lucky Salome has him to take care of her, otherwise it'd be a serious pain.

"So you see? Something good has come out of it. I'm afraid the two of you will have to get a divorce, though, Mister Chair has to stay at the hospital. I'm sure he'll write, though."

Richard laughs tiredly and checks the clock again, shifting most of his weight onto the handle. "Yes, princess, I am extremely jelly." Every conscious thought that passes through his mind, though, is some variation of the phrase 'please be almost done' on repeat. He's tired, and wants her badly, wants the chance to kiss her and run his hands over her body and make her feel better after their fight.

With a patient smirk, Richard stage-whispers to the nurse, "I'm afraid somebody doesn't have a lot of experience when it comes to receiving drug cocktails at two in the morning. Though in all fairness, she's usually about this silly. It's a chronic condition."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Awh, a passion like ours will never die, wheelchair," and then in a stage whisper: "don't worry I'll come back for you." No she won't though she might, who knows, maybe one night she will get drunk with a couple of college friends and steal a wheelchair from a hospital, this hospital and THIS wheelchair, it will be fate. That's how she'll know that they were meant to be together. Forever. Her butt just feels so good in this chair. Maybe it's the drugs, probably the drugs but it might also be the chair as well. The romantic in her says it's the chair.

The nurse chuckles and looks up from what she is doing. "I can see that, thankfully she is the good kind of silly. Though if you want me to I can get you something so you can clear up her condition." Salome is not amused she gives them a look from her wheelchair.

"My silly is adorable, to take it away from Salome would be criminal." A dainty sniff of disapproval. "We are not amused." Third person and the royal we, clearly she is not holding her opiates well. Though she does feel a little sick from it, maybe it's what they gave her to make the swelling go down, she didn't get like this on dilaudid but she doesn't dare say anything like that to anyone.

"You're almost done, your highness, we'll get you ruling over your subjects with only a slightly iron fist soon."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Richard laughs and pats her head, saying, "Perhaps when you rescue it you can paint flames on the wheels to make it go faster." He smirks at the nurse, then. "No, no, let her be silly. After tonight we could both use it. We'll get home and get her to bed, I'm sure her case of the giggles will have taken care of itself by tomorrow morning."

With a smirk, he says, "Well we can get you a crown, your majesty. Pick one up on the way home. That and a scepter." Shit, he'd might as well for all the waiting on her he intends to do.

His poor sick baby. Well, he'll certainly cater to her every whim. When the nurse says they're almost done, he gives a soft sigh of relief and plucks up his jacket. He tugs it on and zips it up, straightens his hair and then yawns. "There's not much more paperwork to do, is there, Miss?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"No, it will be all taken care of by the insurance company, don't worry about it." She gives Richard a smile and finishes up with Salome. It isn't like there was a whole lot to do after getting her arm all wrapped up and get her band-aided up from the little holes they put in her to give her all the good medicines and fluids. The nurse exits for a minute and returns with a bunch of papers stapled together and a prescription on top, she actually brings a bottle for Salome as well.

"I know it's late, so here are two days worth of meds," she offers the package and the bottle to Richard. "There is a list of things to look out for and some numbers. If the pain doesn't lessen or the swelling comes back give us a call or come in and we'll take care of it. Same goes with uncontrollable nausea or fever." It is pretty much all laid out in the papers that were provided, a list of what was wrong and the plan of action for treatment. What to look for, what is normal.

"You can keep your wheel chair for a little while longer, no one ever leaves the hospital not on wheels." Ehhhh that was a little dark but she has a stressful job so who can blame her? Salome nods and puts her freshly wrapped hand in her lap, it doesn't feel so bad . . . now.

"Thank you," Salome nods and so does the nurse stepping back to let them pass. "You're welcome, be well."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Praise Jesus," he sighs, returning the nurse's smile in genuine spades. It's been ages since he's last been to the ER, Christ only knows the leaps technology has made in the past years. Process change so fast he never knows what to do whenever he ends up someplace like this. He watches approvingly as she sticks the band-aids on and then goes to fetch the papers, giving a smile of gratitude as she mentions the medicine.

"Ah, thank you, that'll be a huge help. I was just wondering when we'd be able to get to the pharmacy." And by pharmacy he means his medicine cabinet. Even if she hadn't sent the meds home they would be fine, but this is a helpful bonus. He flips through the documentation, nodding as he takes in everything she has to tell him. "All right, I'll keep an eye on her, then. I'm sure she'll pull it through."

Richard chokes back laughter on the line about wheels, and he laughs, waving gratefully to the nurse as he wheels his daughter out. "Have a good rest of your shift, miss, thanks for your help." Hands on the chair, he pushes her out, rolling her down the hall; for a few seconds he pauses, waiting for the way to be empty of anyone responsible, and then he picks up the pace, running down the hall while he pushes her, laughing all the way.

When they reach a more populated area, he slows down, then pushes her out through the automatic doors. Once they're outside, he rolls the chair out to the parking lot, unlocking the car and then turning to attend to his daughter. He hauls her out of the chair and helps her carefully, gently into the passenger's seat of the car, but freezes has he catches his face so close to hers. He freezes, examining her features, and then his mouth snaps hers up in a desperate, starving kiss. He's been waiting so long for it, it aches him, and he groans immediately, his hands finding her face to hold her while his tongue probes into the depths of her mouth, claiming, re-exploring, his lips desperate to claim hers.

"I'm sorry we fought, baby," he breathes as he pulls away, closing the passenger door and returning the wheelchair to the front area of the hospital. When he finally makes it back into the driver's side of the car, it's with a sigh of relief.

Oh, God, the feel of the keys in the ignition is just too good to be true.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

It's all computerized now. Everything is printed out and given over to the patient so they know what they are supposed to do even if the doctor told them minutes before. Everything is kept down in digital records so anyone within the hospital system can access that information. Really it's pretty nifty, and good because health care facilities shouldn't lag behind in the 21st century. That being said it's probably not that way all across the board but in most, current, up to date facilities they'll be all wired up and quick and speedy. Plus, it helps that it isn't too busy at the moment, otherwise there might just be a wait to get out of there simply because there are other people who need help too.

They get out of the room though and Salome feels like she can breathe a little bit better, or at least she can be easy and let her eyes slip shut for longer periods of time. She has to think that when he thanked the nurse that's probably the most gracious and real he has been with anyone outside the immediate family. He is good with strangers on such a fake level, to the unknowing he must seem like the most jovial and gracious person on the face of the planet, and, to his family he is, but on the regular person on the street she figures that it's all an act. Not that it's a bad thing, most people put on acts even if they aren't serial killers.

The running down the hall cements her theory and she squeals out a laugh, clinging to the arm of the chair as he runs her down the hall. Someone is going to peel out and they are going to crash horribly, she is waiting for it but it never happens and he slows and she breathes easier. Pulling the coat up around herself she holds it through the cold as he takes her to the car and places her inside.

That kiss.

She groans into it, throwing herself into it, his mouth, his lips, tongue. She kisses back frantically with just as much passion as him, maybe slightly less, the veil of opiates faded briefly but didn't entirely lift. Her fingers curl in his dark hair, holding him in place as she feasts off his mouth and his passion. Slowly she pulls back when he does and releases him. Sagging back against the seat she touches her lips, his taste still on her lips as she swallows and grins slowly.

"That's probably in my top ten best kisses list."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

The 21st century is bullshit. It makes it so much harder to scam drugs from doctors. You ask for too many pills from too many people and suddenly your name is in every federal pill-scamming database across the entire goddamn country. But aside from that, he does love the simplicity afforded by technology.

Any stranger who patches up his daughter is a friend of his. Thank Christ for nurses who work in ERs to fix up naughty little tantrum-throwing girls. With most people he fakes his gregariousness, but with a person like her, or various workers in certain other fields, he is more than appreciative.

By the time he's got the engine running, he's still dizzy from the kiss, and he leans his head back against the seat for a few moments while he grins over to her. His hand finds her lap, running back and forth over her thigh, saying, "I was just about to say something similar. I've been desperate to kiss you ever since they called us back, practically." He chuckles and squeezes her knee, then takes her by the chin and presses another sharp kiss to her mouth before backing out of his space and all but peeling out of the parking lot.

"Some of the things you said in there," Richard laughs and shakes his head. "Unbelievable. But lucky for you Daddy is here to help you with that little problem you mentioned." Before turning onto the street, he grins and leans over to maul her ear with kisses. "I can put you to bed every night and make sure you'll be able to get to sleep."

He turns his attention back on the road, his hand stroking her left arm. "My Christ but it's been quite a night. I barely even know what the hell happened."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I love your kisses," she murmurs slowly, softly, her head feels like fuzzy cotton. On top of the fuzzy she got from the drugs she is dizzy and drunk from the feeling of the kiss that he gave her. It makes her groan, even the memory of it and she sinks down slowly in her seat, feeling all sort of silky and slinky. Her free and good hand reaches for his hand, smoothing the back of his hand, caressing the smooth skin as she looks over at him with a big, slow smile. Leaning over to him she puts a kiss to his throat, right up and up, to his jaw, to his ear with a nibble.

"Are you going to slip your hand under my covers at night? Pull up my little nightie and put your fingers into my panties?" A soft sigh and she puts a kiss down the line of his jaw almost to his chin. "All while you're reading me Goldilocks in the three bears? Feeling how wet I am, slipping your fingers into my tight little cunt. You are a naughty, depraved man, daddy. But you'll take good care of me."

The line of her nose bumps against his jaw and she lets her head fall down against his shoulder, resting there as she sighs softly. "There's no need to think about it any more, we'll get home and curl up together and sleep."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Not as much as I love yours. I could suck those scrumptious lips right off of your pretty little face." He grins, then exhales softly as he feels those nibbling teeth on his ear. He fights back the sudden hard-on that tries to overcome him; he's too deliriously tired to drive and get hard at the same time. For now he tries to focus on the road, but Salome splits his attention enough that it's pleasantly distracting.

A shudder tears through him, at her words more than her kisses, though those lips don't exactly hurt. He groans softly, tired, squeezing her good hand. "Only as long as you ask me sweetly," he says, grinning deviously. "Depraved and filthy, I know I am, but I can't help it. You inspire such impossible feelings in me, Salome. A man can't help but stroke that pretty little cunt, even if he happens to be singing lullabies while he does it."

Chuckling, he tilts his head and rests his cheek against the top of all that golden hair. "That's right, there's not. It's just wild to consider it, that's all. So much happening, my Christ." He turns his head to kiss her, kiss her, nose brushing against her hair. "Do you know how hard I'm going to fuck you as soon as I get the chance tomorrow? You're going to wish we smuggled that wheelchair out for you."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"But what would I have left to kiss you with then, daddy?" He needs to think these things through because what would he have to kiss her with? She would just have a hole in her face and she would rub her puckerless face against his mouth and his cheek in a sad sort of pathetic way. Like a blind baby seal pup trying to find it's mother in the freezing and harsh conditions of it's natural environment. It would be both adorable and sad. "If you chewed my lips off my face I would still try and kiss you, and I would love you forever and then some. Thankfully I still have my kisses and lips so I can do whatever I want with them, and thankfully I don't need hands to suck your cock down my throat."

Though that usually requires one hand and she has got that. Her hand moves up the long line of his arm and then up and down, over and then over his thigh. Well muscled, tight drug strong limbs, god she could climb over and straddle his thigh right now and get off on him. That would be a nice relief. Even if her limbs currently feel like cement blocks weighted with titanium. "You know I can ask sweetly, daddy. Don't you like it how I beg you? You can't deny your one and only flesh and blood." It's her turn to shudder but it's mostly internal, her hips do arch slightly off the seat. She reaches between her leg with her bad hand only to stop and pull back.

Tilting her head up she sighs and takes his kisses, loving him with her still intact lips. "Tomorrow? Oh you're a tease, you're getting me all wet but I am so sleepy. Horrible tease, naughty, tease, daddy. My only reprieve is knowing you're probably just as hard as I am wet." Her hand moves over his thigh, high up, rubbing and squeezing him gently.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

The car swerves a little bit when the conversational subject takes a sharp turn from something sweet like kisses to her deepthroating his cock. Just like that, he loses his control, and there's that erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. As her hand slides over his thigh, he groans softly, his head tilting back for breath.

"I suppose you don't. And, why, with the wonders of modern medicine, all bet those throat muscles will be all nice and relaxed." He chuckles darkly, his lips peeling back from his teeth with the breadth of his smile. "That's right, darling, I can't deny you anything. Ask me for anything and I can't resist giving it to you."

The way her hips arch draw all his attention, watching with a crooked grin as her hand tries to move instinctively between her own legs. To think, she accuses him of being a tease! It's clearly all her, this wouldn't be a problem at all if she wasn't so irresistible. All she has to do is sit there, and his head fills itself with filthy fantasies.

"Tomorrow will come soon enough. For now you and I both need sleep. Daddy would black out if he tried to fuck you. But a nice few long hours of rest, and soon enough I'll be-- oh, fuck." He growls and arches his pelvis up against her hand as she rubs him. "Goddammit, you make me want too much now."

With a devious grin, Richard speeds his way into their neighborhood, careening around corners to get to their house. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes, that garage door! He sighs heavily as he parks the car, then goes around to her side to get her out, hauling her into his arms and settling her long legs around his hips as he carries her somewhat unsteadily inside.

"And in the meantime, you'll have sweet drugged dreams about us playing lovely games to hold you over."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

That would be nice actually, to be able to finally get him all the way down her throat but she would like to be able to do it one day without the aid of drugs, it feels a little like cheating. She purrs softly into his ear, the tip of her nose rubbing over the slight stubble that covers his cheek. She likes him like this, hard, wanting, nearly killing them in traffic for a little taste of her. And she will continue to tease him, to rub his thigh and toward the bulge in his jeans. "So hard, so big, how did you get such a big cock, daddy? And how did you have a lovely little girl that knows just how big your prick is, how you throb, and how you taste?" She teases softly, kissing him, groping him and taking little gropes of him while he speeds toward their garage.

And she is rewarded with the arch of his hips that makes her grin broadly.

Wrapping her arm and legs around him she presses the hot of her crotch against his, it takes all of herself control not to rub and grind against him. If she did he would probably fall over and they would break more things which might delay his marriage just a little longer.

"Are you going to resist me now, daddy? Don't you want to put it inside of me just a little bit?" She kisses his mouth as he takes her through the garage and to the kitchen. "Maybe you can put me on the table and put your cock in me, just a little bit, please daddy?"

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Good genetics, and good luck. All kinds of marvelous luck on that last one." He laughs and strokes her jaw, crooning, "Or perhaps it's genetic knowledge. Something passed through to your subconscious, the knowledge that Daddy's cock is the perfect size for that tight cunt of yours."

Cheating, nothing. Practice is practice, an achievement an achievement regardless of whether it comes with the assistance of drugs. As she gropes and paws, he slowly loses his mind, so that when he's finally got his arms wrapped around her body and her legs wound around him he's hard and desperately wanting.

And he wants it twice as badly when she presses up against him. He groans, hungry, and presses her tighter to him, hips arching to grind against her crotch. That plea, that kiss--he loses himself in the wet sweetness of her kiss, returning it with twice the eager desire she delivers. Just a little bit, she says, just a little bit. It's impossible to deny, and he groans, clutching her closer to him as he makes his way up the stairs. "Come on, we'll go to your bed and play there so when Daddy passes out he won't risk concussion."

And it sounds so nice, laying the girl down in the soft of the bed and comforting her in it, flesh and limbs and desperate reunion after such a wild fight. Putting most of her weight on his right side, Richard climbs the stairs with her in his arms, proving once and for all that she'll never be too big to carry. He takes her straight to her room, turning on the light and then laying her back amidst the covers, pressing a vicious kiss to her mouth while his hands strip off his jacket, then rove all over her body, sliding up her shirt and over the smooth flesh of her stomach.

"I suppose I've got to get you to sleep some way, after all."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Subconscious? Maybe you were whispering in my ear while I was asleep during my formative years." And she laughs but then turns calm for a moment, almost serious. No, he would never do that, not even a little bit, she doesn't even remotely believe it. He is so many things but an instrument into her plunge into incest? No, never, not even a little bit. She remembers the surprise in his eyes when she came on to him in that clumsy, almost aggressive way that she did that day. No, he didn't plan anything, it seems more to her that he is right about the genetic knowledge, maybe just a predisposition to wanting familial flesh.

"No matter how tired you are, you'll always want to put your cock in me, won't you, daddy?" She kisses him as he walks, good arm draped around his shoulders, holding him close as he walks to the stairs. "Strong, handsome, insatiable, daddy. My dark king, insidious incubus." Whispers in his ear and when he gets her to her room she kicks off her slip on shoes and when he lays her down on the bed she groans happily. It's so tempting, tempting to just pass out, but he is groping her and she is wiggling to get out of her clothes, pulling her tee-shirt up and off and then bra next as she fumbles for his kiss. "Fuck I can't do this with this hand." She turns slightly to offer her back and the bra hook to him.

"Don't fall asleep inside of me," her laugh is slurred but it's still there. God getting naked is so much easier with two hands and it feels like forever to get her clothes off, to become naked for him, like everything is moving in slow motion. Except the throbbing, her cunt aches, as much as she aches to sleep she can't, she needs him, only he can make it stop.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Richard gives a laugh of horror. "That's a terrifying thought, my God. No, no, I think it's simply woven in our genes, my darling. The deep inherent knowledge that family is the source of all the greatest bonds, the bonds a person truly craves. All that intimacy, that trust, that love, it's all right here, already a part of him.

He chuckles, his lips twitching into a tremendous grin. "It's true, my darling, so true. I could hike across the Sahara without water for a week and still fuck you without pause as soon as I reached you. The very edge of death couldn't stop me from wanting you." He grins under all that praise of her, simply awash with it, swimming in every glowing syllable.

"That's exactly so, my darling." He nuzzles against the curve of her throat, crooning, "An incubus, a rake, an animal for you. You fill me up with so much want, Salome, oh God. To kiss you and hold you and torment you and crush you with the force of just how much I love you." He steals the breath from her lungs with his kiss and then leans back while she pulls her t-shirt off, cooing as she complains about her one-handed issue.

"Well, what else am I here for," he says with a chuckle while he helps her, kissing down the nape of her neck with the kind of ravenous hunger one finds in a starving man who, having thought he might never eat again, finds himself presented with a feast and is overcome with ecstasy. With the twist of a thumb and forefinger, he unclasps the underwire, then slides it from her shoulders and tosses it away while at the same time running his hands over her breast, her stomach, one sliding to open her pants.

Tongue tracing along the ridge of her ear, Richard takes a shuddering breath and manages a husky little chuckle. "I couldn't if I tried. That cunt of yours keeps me up at night." Gently, he lays her back down upon the bed, his mouth kissing over her breast. While his lips close down around one beautiful little rosebud nipple, his hands swiftly work to strip open his pants. He kicks off his shoes and socks, then tears down his boxers and jeans before tending to Salome, whose pants he removes completely with a gasp of sharp appreciation as he stares down upon her draped before him.

"Jesus," he breathes, "Jesus, Jesus, you don't know how bad I've wanted this for the past hour. All those pretty tears, oh, baby, you make Daddy want nothing more than to take care of you." His fingers slide between her thighs, running over her panties before yanking those away to leave her damp and bare before him. His thumb strokes back and forth over her clit, then his forefinger takes over the work, and meanwhile his mouth finds hers. He becomes so painfully conscious of his cock that he can't stand it, feeling every hard inch as it twitches in anticipation. He grinds against her wet pussy, fingertips capturing her chin to look her in the eyes as he slides inside, lips capturing hers.

"Nothing matters, no one else matters, Salome, I don't care what the circumstances are. My only child, flesh of my flesh, oh Salome, I would do anything for you. Daddy's sorry he got so frustrated," his words rise in a howl of a groan as he slams himself deeper inside of her. "He's sorry he didn't think. But he'll take care of you, princess. He'll make it up to you, and meanwhile aren't we so much closer for it?" He grins, nipping at her lower lip, testosterone still surging through him after the conflict, still making him want her more than almost ever. "One fleeting fight, a little pain, and suddenly each of us remembers how madly we love one another. Oh, my one and only daughter, my Salome, my soul."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

It feels as though she is in a dream, a slow, sweet dream that is about to turn very naughty very soon. The heat of him, she can feel it soaking into her skin, he's like the sun, a supernova, bright and ready to destroy everything in it's path in it's last gasp for life. Oh she does love the feeling of him, her fingers move over him, everywhere that she can, and it frustrates the living fuck out of her not to be able to do it with two hands, she just has the one and that's not enough to soak up his touch and the pulse of his skin under her fingertips.

He turns her and undresses her, not unlike what he used to do when she was very little. There are some extreme differences, but he is still tender, and his hands are still familiar and easy all over her. His lips, a brush from his mouth over her shoulder, her bare skin, and it sinks in that this is something that they both crave so desperately, and they just flat out need. This makes everything better. All the touches and the kisses drive away the fight, and all the presses of skin against skin makes her forget even more and more what they were even fighting about.

Her back arches and she groans, fingers twisting into his hair as she offers up more of her breasts to him. "That's right, that's what it's supposed to do, keep you up at night. My perfect, tight cunt that was made for you. Oh you fit just perfectly, don't you?" She kisses over his forehead, to the dark of his hair, all over as he gets her shaking. Fucking Christ she better not be too high to come, no, she is close, she can feel it even now which is good because they are exhausted as hell.

At least it feels good to be on a bed again not made out of plywood and nails and she stretches out as he gets her naked and gets himself naked. Her hips arching and her toes curling into the sheets as he drives her even more out of her mind.

"It's, it's okay, we were both out of our minds. I forgive you, please, forgive me I -" and he slams deep inside of her and she bucks under him her whole form shuddering in relief when he is inside of her. "We're always better off after we fight, we need it, we need to know that after being horrible we can still love each other this much." She finds his mouth in a hard kiss and begins to rock her hips up against his.

"You have a minute to fuck me and get us both off, do you think you can do that, daddy? Oh lets make this one a quickie." The frantic, desperate nature of the quickie always appeals to her, and now it's just practical.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Of course it's something they need. Richard needs this as badly as he needs air. Just to touch her, that's what he needs, to run his hands over her and be close against her warmth. Such overwhelming reassurance, such joy to have her again, every time as wonderful as th efirst time, or better.

The way she shakes, it drives him insane. His hands rove all over her, palms hungry for every inch of flesh they can possibly touch, and his nose fills with the scent of her soft skin the more kisses he plants up and down her throat and jaw and collarbone. He suckles against her flesh, nibbling up to her lips to groan, "It's true, I do. Like two puzzle pieces, one perfectly fitting the other. It's impossible to think about, oh, the beautiful odds. That I should have such a fine little girl, with such a fine form, and such a range of proclivities so much like her father's!"

It truly is the meaning of the word 'blessing'.

"We do, my darling, we do. You and I, the two of us are too intense, Salome, our passions rise to such a fever that they need release, and sometimes that release comes in foolish ways." He strokes his thumb up and down her jaw, eyes boring into hers. "Of course I forgive you. It's all right, baby, no harm done. I'm just glad you're okay, even with two broken fingers, poor girl."

Richard barks out a wicked laugh, hand sliding over her stomach and down between them, his fingertips playing against her clit while his forehead rests against hers, hips working in and out in a merciless beat. "Of course I can do that in a minute, I could do it in thirty seconds." He chuckles huskily, his free hand gripping her hair to tug her mouth up to his and into a suffocating kiss. His nose pushes against hers while his tongue plunges in against hers, a moan pouring into her mouth straight from his. Each hard stroke of his cock within her is another sharp rush of pleasure over his overwhelmed, completely drained skull, moving swiftly toward the edge. Lips pursing in a series of kisses back to her ear, he growls, "I'll make you cum once quickly now, and tomorrow morning we can spend a nice long time playing with each other as a reward for being such a good, patient girl. Doesn't that sound nice?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

At the moment everything sounds nice. It's impossible not to feel good, not to be on top of the world when he is inside of her, fucking her mercilessly. They both need it so badly, that rush and that snap of ultimate pleasure, there's no need to hold back, there's no attempt on Salome's part to put on a show or try any fancy movies. Hell, she can't even lift her legs to wrap them around him while he thrusts into her. It's completely unnecessary, this isn't a marathon, they would die if it was, the both of them are so exhausted.

Between his cock and his fingers she reaches the edge viciously fast, well within the sixty seconds, until she finds that final push and she comes. It's not a particularly physical climax, that takes so much energy that she doesn't think she actually is capable of writhing around under him like she usually does. Her whole being tenses around him, her body, her cunt, squeezing and fluttering around him as her head falls back and she groans his name, a long, low noise. While it might not be a physically intense orgasm it seems to last forever which is actually really fucking nice.

That wave of pleasure doesn't crest when it usually does and it just goes on and on. Or it feels that way, maybe it's the drugs but she is pretty sure that rush of pleasure lasts so much longer then normally expected. "Daddy, oh, I love you," a soft babble over and over, her body still trembling and pressing weakly up against his. "Come inside of me."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

With the two of them there's never any need for pretense. Only the desperation of two bodies seeking to briefly be one, to be close, to give in to the intensity of the pressure that builds between them as a product of their adoration.

As Salome falls back against the pillows, he gives a groan of success, putting all his energy into the rhythm of his hips slamming against hers. The old bed cries out beneath them while she squeezes tight and he simply speeds up for it, spurred by the way his name pours from her lips in a long, deliriously sexy whine of pleasure; it inspires him to catch her lips in a kiss and maul that mouth, heart beating like a drum while he gets closer and closer.

With a wicked grin, he snaps at her lips, growling, "At least I know that if some little rat your own age ever does get his hands on you, there's no being on heaven or earth who could possibly make you feel the way I do." He grins, clutching her trembling form to himself, mouth diving down against her throat, fingers tangling in her hair. Suddenly it hits him, about the time she tells him how she loves him, and he's already tumbling over the edge with an exhausted snarl of a groan while Salome demands he claim her. His arms tighten and her name falls from the jaw that unhinges against her throat, hips working once, twice, three times more in a few final, violent slams while he empties himself deep within her holy cunt.

After everything tonight, the headrush of pleasure hits him like an atomic bomb, and he lies upon her, around her, within her, his breath coming in desperate gasps and his body collapsed. He nuzzles against her, panting, still seeing fireworks in the front of his skull even once he comes down, his entire body slowly sliding against hers, legs tracing legs, heart to heart, mouth to mouth.

"I would never give you up for anything," he says between kisses, "I could never replace you with anyone. If you weren't a part of it, my life would be over. Pointless." His mouth presses to her ear and he exhales suddenly, mouth tracing down her jaw before her adds, "My poor little Rocky Balboa."

And he ducks his mouth against her shoulder, using her to muffle the lunatic sound of his over-exhausted giggling. Then, with a deep breath, he rolls onto his back and pulls her into his arms, tight against his chest, drawing the blanket up over her body. "Daddy still has things to do, he can't fall asleep just yet. But I'll stay here until you fall asleep, my darling, and I'll be here when you wake up. And anything you need when you do is yours, my princess, just wake me up and I'll fetch it."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

He is probably painfully right about that. No one her age could make her feel as good as he does, he knows her inside and out, what to say, how to touch her and hold her. How to fuck her and bring her to the most amazing and glorious orgasms ever. Everyone else would just be a disappointment, a waste of time, a reminder that they aren't him. He perhaps ruined her for life when it comes to sex and she has no idea how she feels abut that.

She doesn't feel or think much about anything at the moment. Her brain is awash with pleasure and with the pain medications that make everything fuzzy and white. She wraps her arm around, holding him weakly as he finishes off in her, oh she does love it when he comes inside of her, so wicked.

Everything, everyone goes limp and she nuzzles up against him, eyes refusing to open as they share kisses and touches. She is fading, her body spent and her brain screaming for sleep. She dozes off lightly a few times and then wakens to a sort of twilight conscious. "I love you, papa, you'll never be without me. How could I leave you? You're my favorite. And not just because you make me come." A sleepy smile and she groans when he rolls.

Movement is bad, her stomach lurches but settles down when they do. "Don't go, just sleep, papa, you need to sleep. I don't need anything." She starts to pet his head, playing with his hair as she starts to fade once again. "There, there, we'll go to sleep now. Shhhh."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Poor Richard is just barely hanging on to the tatters of consciousness, himself. After everything that's happened in the past five to six hours, he feels like he's been riding a roller coaster nonstop for the entire time and now it's left him completely drained. And yet, there's still so much more to do. A mother works from sun to sun, but a father's (and serial killer's) work is never done.

He much prefers his spin on the old poem.

"No! No, you trecherous little-- uugh." His eyes close and his mouth falls open while she plays with his hair, the feeling indescribable. He groans quietly, leaning into the touch of her hand, trying to hang on despite the fact that his eyes are closed. There is important shit to do, goddammit, he has to finish cleaning up, has to wake Delilah up or leave her a note to let her know what's happening, that they're going to have to wait another day or two because of Salome's fingers.

Barely, barely, he hangs on by the tips of his nails, though he does still momentarily, fading in and out, his muscles unwinding. He lingers, waits, listens to her breathing, for that familiar pattern that indicates her slow descent into that miraculous teenage death-sleep. When he hears it, he'll drag himself out of bed and pull on jeans, away from her only as long as it takes to move what's in the attic down to the freezer in the basement, to check on the dog and make sure it's in bed, to shower, and then to rouse Delilah, who comes out of her dream when he strokes her shoulder and kisses her pale ear.

"Pussycat, wake up."

"Mmnhm-mm?" Delilah stretches out and turns, her eyes sealed shut even if she's sort of awake. "What's wrong?"

"Salome broke her fingers earlier," he says softly, stroking Delilah's hair. "We went to the ER, she'll be in a cast for awhile."

"Oh no!" Her reaction is maybe a little muted because she's so tired and it's such an odd hour and her eyes are still closed so she's not really completely conscious. "Poor thing."

"I know, tell me about it. But it means we'll have to push the wedding back a few days, maybe, since tomorrow she and I will both be useless."

Smiling in her half-awake state, Delilah turns and nuzzles her face against the pillow as much as she does Richard's arm. "I've already waited a while. I can wait a few more days, I don't care. I'm just so happy to marry you, I'd wait forever for it."

With a chuckle, Richard bends down and kisses the nape of her neck. "Well, you won't have to wait very long. And this way you'll have time to plan whatever you like. Anyway, kitten, go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep with my poor little patient tonight in case she needs anything."

"Okay, sweetie, sleep tight, you should bring me the dog."

He smooches her shoulder as he stands, saying, "Not on your life is that dog drooling and shedding in my bed. Good night, darling."

As he leaves her in peace, he chuckles his way back to Salome's room, and then, finally, at three in the morning, he strips off his clothes, slides into Salome's bed, pulls the sleeping girl into his arms, closes his eyes and is unconscious so fast it's like he's been hit over the back of the head by the sandman.

Oh, yeah, he is going to have some crazy-ass dreams tonight. That is for goddamn sure.