"Well, you've been after Dave fo--" The rest of Adam's sentence is lost when Michael surges forward, stealing the words and Adam's breath with a kiss that can only be described as violent. There is a moment where Adam fights it, pushes his hands against Michael's shoulders and nearly pulls away until the fingers tangled in his hair slide down and curl around the back of his neck with a subtle gentleness that opposes the kiss in every way. The contrast pulls Adam over the edge, beyond the ability to tease and smirk, it turns his bones to ash and has Adam pushing himself off the door and into the mass of want and need and furious blue eyes that seemed so set on destroying him.
There was an edge found ito the kiss, Michael's need to claim bleeds through in every action; the way he bites and tugs at Adam's lower lip, the way the hand on Adam's abdomen drags along the ridges of his ribs while pushing the dress shirt out of the way right down to the possessive curl of his thumb along Adam's throat as he hauls the blond closer. Adam doesn't fight it, doesn't try to pull away again as he wraps his arms around his superior and his stupidly expensive suit and lets himself be moved. He doesn't notice where Michael is moving them to until he feels the edge of the desk press into the back of his thighs and Michael untangles himself enough to push Adam on top of it with strength that a man who spends most of his day sitting behind a desk should not possess.
"I only want to hear my name from this point onwards, understand?" The command is whispered against Adam's lips as Michael's fingers dig into the blond's hip, leaving burning points of contact that will be purple and black tomorrow but right now they fuel the fire in Adam's gut that he swears will ruin him. Biting back a keening noise, he nods and arches up against Michael, pushes into the fingers and claiming mouth that slides along his jaw in a plea -demand- for more.
In the back of his mind, somewhere beneath the pleasure swamping his rational thoughts, Adam wonders if he should be worried or impressed at the speed which Michael manages to remove his clothing, hands making quick work of his pants but leaves his shirt on but open. Adam is left naked but for the shirt and tie hanging loosely around his neck and fumbles as he tries to slide the suit jacket from Michael's shoulders. He fails and Michael pulls away only long enough to remove it - and fold it- before coming back to Adam, pressing between his legs and mapping along Adam's thighs and never quite moving high enough. The realization that Michael folds his jacket makes Adam laugh, sharp and just a little bit broken thanks to Michael's calloused (why are they calloused?) fingers trace teasing patterns low on his hips.
"Folded, really necessary, Michael?" The sarcasm that Adam wished was in his voice never quite makes it, though that is perhaps more due to the fact that Michael choses that moment to wrap a hand loosely around him. "I am hnnnn- a-almost insulted."
The more that he tires to speak, the more the hand on his cock teases him. It's infuriating and never enough and he wants more, but when Adam tries to roll his hips up into the perfect friction, Michael pulls away, smirk on his lips. Of course, Adam feels the smirk more than he sees it as it is pressed into the lines of his collarbone before a mark is left there too. Adam will stoutly deny the frustrated whine.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Cuckolds and Concubines, SPN, Michael/Adam, M, Business AU [4/...]
Date: 2011-10-23 01:57 am (UTC)There was an edge found ito the kiss, Michael's need to claim bleeds through in every action; the way he bites and tugs at Adam's lower lip, the way the hand on Adam's abdomen drags along the ridges of his ribs while pushing the dress shirt out of the way right down to the possessive curl of his thumb along Adam's throat as he hauls the blond closer. Adam doesn't fight it, doesn't try to pull away again as he wraps his arms around his superior and his stupidly expensive suit and lets himself be moved. He doesn't notice where Michael is moving them to until he feels the edge of the desk press into the back of his thighs and Michael untangles himself enough to push Adam on top of it with strength that a man who spends most of his day sitting behind a desk should not possess.
"I only want to hear my name from this point onwards, understand?" The command is whispered against Adam's lips as Michael's fingers dig into the blond's hip, leaving burning points of contact that will be purple and black tomorrow but right now they fuel the fire in Adam's gut that he swears will ruin him. Biting back a keening noise, he nods and arches up against Michael, pushes into the fingers and claiming mouth that slides along his jaw in a plea -demand- for more.
In the back of his mind, somewhere beneath the pleasure swamping his rational thoughts, Adam wonders if he should be worried or impressed at the speed which Michael manages to remove his clothing, hands making quick work of his pants but leaves his shirt on but open. Adam is left naked but for the shirt and tie hanging loosely around his neck and fumbles as he tries to slide the suit jacket from Michael's shoulders. He fails and Michael pulls away only long enough to remove it - and fold it- before coming back to Adam, pressing between his legs and mapping along Adam's thighs and never quite moving high enough. The realization that Michael folds his jacket makes Adam laugh, sharp and just a little bit broken thanks to Michael's calloused (why are they calloused?) fingers trace teasing patterns low on his hips.
"Folded, really necessary, Michael?" The sarcasm that Adam wished was in his voice never quite makes it, though that is perhaps more due to the fact that Michael choses that moment to wrap a hand loosely around him. "I am hnnnn- a-almost insulted."
The more that he tires to speak, the more the hand on his cock teases him. It's infuriating and never enough and he wants more, but when Adam tries to roll his hips up into the perfect friction, Michael pulls away, smirk on his lips. Of course, Adam feels the smirk more than he sees it as it is pressed into the lines of his collarbone before a mark is left there too. Adam will stoutly deny the frustrated whine.