Even Hyde's been good, not entertaining any other women in hopes of getting back in Bella's good graces. All the more reason he'd really like to get out now. But it's still Jekyll who insists on gathering up the coat to give her a makeshift pillow. He doesn't want her head to get bonked on the table. "Oh, am I promoted from 'boy'...?"
He's sure she's joking, must be a joke, but still, "...I think I would like to hear that...what do I need to do?" Hell do anything. But haha, just a joke. Even if she meant it in more of a platonic way, affectionate but not in love, it would be nice.
Her head tilts back and to the side, eyeing him like an errant miscreant and hoping to disguise-- even in this intimacy-- the softer hesitation that speaks to the real depth of her feeling.
"What you're wanting to do." She deliberately tightens around his pleasantly warm cock. Fill 'er up, sailor.
Ah- well. He can do that, probably. He's already there so there's no turning back. It's just that he wants to look at her but it feels terribly awkward to look her in the eye while jamming his dick in her. Maybe if it were put in a more poetic way. It seems necessary to do so if he thinks of it as making love. But can you call it that on a bar table in the middle of the night?
No he should look at her cheek, that's less intimidating but it's still her face. Still her eyes in the peripherals. That makes it a little easier to suck it up and actually move his hips. But suddenly he realises it's a hell of a lot easier when he's kissing her. Then it seems a crime not to thrust into her - to maybe not be a perfect gentleman about it. Insofar as he can bring himself to be less than a perfect gentleman. They did just start fucking on a bar table out of the blue after all.
This is a lot like romancing a nervous virgin. But Robert knows how to kiss like he means it, whether his thrusts are half-hearted or not. And he's helped along by, ah, natural advantages.
Proportionate. Natural advantages.
"Ooh," she moans, smothered by his mouth. Good dog. Best dog. Here, dog. Her heels drum into his backside. More of the same, please??
It was a hefty dose of medication, and yet, that was what, twenty, thirty minutes ago? With several threats of a breakthrough... Robert's defences are down, his anxiety is up, and everything is Bella. And there's only one person in this world more interested in and hopelessly enthralled by her. Who also happens to be better equipped for dealing with situations that make Robert uncomfortable. So when it threatens again, there really isn't anything he can do to stop it, though the only thing signaling the switch is a drawn out moan, like a release of held breath.
That and his hand that finds hers to lay over top of it, lacing his fingers in. It's unnaturally strong, almost crushing, hanging on for dear life. Sure his hips and kiss are strong and insistent too, but that hand is something he really won't be made to let go of.
She has no reason to immediately spot the noise for the trigger signalling Hyde's entry, beyond what sounds like he's finally relaxing into their dinner table lovemaking. And it is that, however she deflects the question.
Bella's hand goes white-knuckled over his, like her life depends on it too, and he needs to know she would drown if he weren't there. And there, whipping her up into electric knots that try uselessly and poorly to meet the thrusting with just a table's edge beneath her ass. Between jubilant kisses and marveling at the shift in him, "God, God, like that, Robert," slips out one of his names.
Unlike another Hyde, he doesn't care to correct her, because he doesn't care what he's called. It doesn't need to be any kind of distinction from his other half. As far as he's concerned that's still him. Hyde's just a convenient term when they do need to be distinguished. But it is still distinctly Hyde's low growl that answers her, "Christ, Bella-" he's been wantingher in vain for so long it's too good to be true. He'd have settled for getting stepped on while eating her pussy t b h
Instead his enthusiasm means pushing her into the table, without nearly so much care as a moment ago when he didn't want her to hit her head. But at least he's so rough with his kisses too that it isn't about to go anywhere either. "Ah, shit--" that bunched up skirt is in his way though, blocking him from feeling her up!! So, not thinking for a moment of any consequences, he rips the waistband. Much better.
Hyde has a gravelly-- raw way of speaking that instantly lets everyone know they're dealing with the bestial half. It's been such a long while since she heard it between their bruising lips, but there can be no mistake, and Bella almost doesn't care at all that they changed places; more accurately, the caring can come later.
The pushing is fine, she enjoys that bit o' rough, the flaring pain in her spine (avoiding a smack to the head) from suddenly flattening against hard wood. What's not fine is ruining her nice things.
"Shit, yourself!" Even half-shouting in a scold and refusing the next biting kiss, her thighs flex around his hips in time with the push-pull-push of cock.
Wow no way he hasn't done anything wrong. "'Was in the way." Surely she understands. Isn't she glad to see him after so long of being good and not showing his face? It was very important that he be able to move from her hip to her tits unhindered. Even though it hasn't occurred to him to show some skin himself.
Bella's tits aren't up and leaving, but he hasn't muddied her head enough for the abuse of her clothes not to register. The next moment he shoves in balls deep is the last before she traps him by way of an iron vice made of crossed leg.
She glares, sweating and shivery and swatting their joined hands. "My favorite skirt! You dog!"
"I'll get you another." He could whine like a dog with its paw in a trap too. At least she didn't lock him out entirely, but he doesn't have the patience physically or mentally to be stuck in one place right now. His hips twitch ineffectually, his lips press together. Go back to telling him he's a good dog.
She'd rather slap his ass with the morning paper. With the cool air of an empty Empire wafting across her overheated navel, there's no saving that skirt, is there? It was more than her being partial to the color, the texture. It was a whole look. People knew her by it.
Bella's cunt throbs during the reprieve. He doesn't suffer alone. "You won't magic it back together, though, you damn randy bastard." Giving up on trying to intimidate him with a scowl, she falls back and pulls a face at the ceiling.
He can keep going...?? Gladly -- except hat face gives him pause. As much if a dog as ever, his way of trying to test the water and check how she's doing is to prod at her cheek with his nose. A little grumble that's almost a whine comes from his throat. "It'll be the same." He'll take that one in to a tailor and have them make the same thing...!
His placation has a note of earnestness that brings her dismay down past even a simmer. It's like a puppy skulking at the foot of her bed, who knows it's been bad and only wants for things to be as they were ...
"Well, alright." Hyde's breath is hot on her cheek. Bella turns and smothers all of that away. Leg-vice loosening, her hands escape and drag up through the boisterous curls he calls hair.
That image is exactly it! He just wants to be a good dog again. To be her favourite.
But it looks like he must have managed to do, and he isn't about to pass up a chance to suck face with her. Although he could just bask in her fingers raking through his hair, what dog wouldn't appreciate that. An appreciative growl comes from his throat, and he forgets entirely about the reason he ripped that skirt in the first place. Drilling her is much more important than groping her rn
He's sort of her favorite. Don't tell a soul. Bella's got an image to maintain.
Which would be so much easier without a dick in the middle of smashing her pussy and one of the older rescues gaping through his fingers from the far end of the room. She sees him after arching clean off the table surface, upside down and on the verge of something wonderful.
"What're you -- down here-- geroff to bed." Her bellow is courage-shattering. The appalled shock on the boy's face crumples into genuine terror, and he bolts.
"Oops." He grins down at her like it's nothing but hilarious that one of the already traumatised kids caught them. "Looks like you were too loud about the skirt."
"It couldn't be me, Jekyll's such a quiet boy." A good boy. "What're you gonna do?" What if he tells people huh? Would that be a bad thing for her, or...?
They all know Bella Charmimg better than thinking they could get off cleanly after disrespecting her. Most were there for the few assaults on her turf, and saw how those resolved. Perhaps they'd remember the part this hound played.
"Nothing. Damn. Let's just finish this." Walking up the stairs seems Ike a pain in the ass, and to speed up the process, she sneaks a hand between them to diddle herself.
Do that and trample his pride! Grunting, he pushes her hand away to do it himself. Determined to show her its not just 'lets get this over with', his mouth and teeth find the base of her neck below her ear.
Bella's breathing kicks up, torn ragged and catching. Goddammit, he was right at the start about the table being a poor choice. Rather, the grand dining room the table sits in more than an issue with what's crushing her ass. A bed would've meant privacy and luxury.
Exploration can come later. Bella first. Thanks. Her hands fly to clap bruisingly hard over his rear. "God, do it, I'll have you bloody quartered, damn it!"
"I wouldn't be much use then..." But he does as he's told anyway without a fuss, he puts his back into it. Maybe a little much for the setting, here's hoping she went with good quality tables. No doubt the scratching of the table legs on the floor causes a little more noise than what he accused her of.
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While he fusses with it, her arms criss-cross in a V just below his handsomely curled head. A sculpted brow lifts. "You're halfway to 'love'."
Whoops.
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He's sure she's joking, must be a joke, but still, "...I think I would like to hear that...what do I need to do?" Hell do anything. But haha, just a joke. Even if she meant it in more of a platonic way, affectionate but not in love, it would be nice.
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"What you're wanting to do." She deliberately tightens around his pleasantly warm cock. Fill 'er up, sailor.
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No he should look at her cheek, that's less intimidating but it's still her face. Still her eyes in the peripherals. That makes it a little easier to suck it up and actually move his hips. But suddenly he realises it's a hell of a lot easier when he's kissing her. Then it seems a crime not to thrust into her - to maybe not be a perfect gentleman about it. Insofar as he can bring himself to be less than a perfect gentleman. They did just start fucking on a bar table out of the blue after all.
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Proportionate. Natural advantages.
"Ooh," she moans, smothered by his mouth. Good dog. Best dog. Here, dog. Her heels drum into his backside. More of the same, please??
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That and his hand that finds hers to lay over top of it, lacing his fingers in. It's unnaturally strong, almost crushing, hanging on for dear life. Sure his hips and kiss are strong and insistent too, but that hand is something he really won't be made to let go of.
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Bella's hand goes white-knuckled over his, like her life depends on it too, and he needs to know she would drown if he weren't there. And there, whipping her up into electric knots that try uselessly and poorly to meet the thrusting with just a table's edge beneath her ass. Between jubilant kisses and marveling at the shift in him, "God, God, like that, Robert," slips out one of his names.
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Instead his enthusiasm means pushing her into the table, without nearly so much care as a moment ago when he didn't want her to hit her head. But at least he's so rough with his kisses too that it isn't about to go anywhere either. "Ah, shit--" that bunched up skirt is in his way though, blocking him from feeling her up!! So, not thinking for a moment of any consequences, he rips the waistband. Much better.
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The pushing is fine, she enjoys that bit o' rough, the flaring pain in her spine (avoiding a smack to the head) from suddenly flattening against hard wood. What's not fine is ruining her nice things.
"Shit, yourself!" Even half-shouting in a scold and refusing the next biting kiss, her thighs flex around his hips in time with the push-pull-push of cock.
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Bella's tits aren't up and leaving, but he hasn't muddied her head enough for the abuse of her clothes not to register. The next moment he shoves in balls deep is the last before she traps him by way of an iron vice made of crossed leg.
She glares, sweating and shivery and swatting their joined hands. "My favorite skirt! You dog!"
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Bella's cunt throbs during the reprieve. He doesn't suffer alone. "You won't magic it back together, though, you damn randy bastard." Giving up on trying to intimidate him with a scowl, she falls back and pulls a face at the ceiling.
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"Well, alright." Hyde's breath is hot on her cheek. Bella turns and smothers all of that away. Leg-vice loosening, her hands escape and drag up through the boisterous curls he calls hair.
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But it looks like he must have managed to do, and he isn't about to pass up a chance to suck face with her. Although he could just bask in her fingers raking through his hair, what dog wouldn't appreciate that. An appreciative growl comes from his throat, and he forgets entirely about the reason he ripped that skirt in the first place. Drilling her is much more important than groping her rn
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Which would be so much easier without a dick in the middle of smashing her pussy and one of the older rescues gaping through his fingers from the far end of the room. She sees him after arching clean off the table surface, upside down and on the verge of something wonderful.
"What're you -- down here-- geroff to bed." Her bellow is courage-shattering. The appalled shock on the boy's face crumples into genuine terror, and he bolts.
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"Oh, yes, that's where all the noise came from. Bloody joker."
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"Nothing. Damn. Let's just finish this." Walking up the stairs seems Ike a pain in the ass, and to speed up the process, she sneaks a hand between them to diddle herself.
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Exploration can come later. Bella first. Thanks. Her hands fly to clap bruisingly hard over his rear. "God, do it, I'll have you bloody quartered, damn it!"
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