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Post by Mark Dashwood on Feb 27, 2012 23:50:51 GMT -5
The tension was flowing heavily through Mark's veins, restricting his blood flow considerably - not that his blood wasn't already concentrated in one single area to begin with. Merlin, this wasn't good. He couldn't, there was no way he could do this. Married, he reminded himself once more as he watched her pick up her bag. Groaning quietly to himself, he breathed heavily. He didn't want Elsie to leave, damn it. He didn't want her to leave in the slightest. She was beautiful, sexy, and above all clever. She could match wits with him - like Kate use to; and she cared for him - like Kate use to. Things just weren't going well for him at home and Elsie, she was. . . well, she was here and damn it if she didn't look amazing.
"Elsie. . ." he whispered as she went to step around him. He knew he shouldn't stop her, that he had to resist, but damn it if he didn't want to resist any more. He'd been going back and forth, back and forth, all night and for once he wanted to stop going in circles and just act.
"Elsie," he repeated once more, waiting for her to turn around, he caught her right wrist as she stepped past him, delicately and gently turning her around - he no longer had the patience to wait. "Don't, don't go. . . I know that this. . . for lack of a better word is fucked, but just -" he broke off, his body reacting against what he knew should not be happening, what shouldn't be occuring - and he kissed her. Deeply, patiently, pulling her closer and enjoying the curve of her body against his, all while blocking out the conscious that so blantantly demanded he stop; that this was wrong.
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Post by Elsie James on Mar 3, 2012 8:41:30 GMT -5
Elsie's heart leapt into her mouth as Mark whispered her name, so close to her that she was sure she could almost feel his breath on her skin. She bit her lip and took another step though, her resolve faltering and yet still - just - intact. Half of her wasn't sure that she wasn't simply imagining it now. The touch of fingers on her wrist stopped her immediately in her tracks though: she knew those hands, had watched them work, had watched them seemingly perform miracles... had felt one caress the skin of her cheek as they had kissed not moments ago.
She listened to his stammerings, but failed to pay attention to them, so entranced was she by the simple touch of his hand: surely feelings like this were for trashy romance novels, and not real life? She caught the word 'fucked' just before he kissed her, and some lewd but lucid corner of her mind suggested that yes, she'd quite like that before his lips were on hers, and her attention was well and truly diverted.
She let Mark pull her closer, her body moulding to his as they kissed against the door-frame. Anyone could have walked past - admittedly, there weren't many people in this section of the hospital at night, but there could have been cleaners, doctors on breaks, even potentially a stray patient - and she wouldn't have cared, couldn't have cared. She could the ridges of his muscle under his shirt: she wanted more that that, so much more. She took her time, this time, in kissing Mark Dashwood: there wa every possibility that she might not get to do so again, and so she explored the landscape of his body with a passion masquerading as diligence.
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Post by Mark Dashwood on May 13, 2012 10:29:26 GMT -5
When Elsie reciprocated his kiss once more, the small ounce of control that he had remaining. All the ability he had to differentiate between right and wrong left his thoughts and the only thing that mattered any more was Elsie James.
His actions were swift and precise as he moved them from the door way were he was certain theyd be found. slamming it shut with his foot, he deepened the kiss, his hands flew to her waist and pulled her even closer, lifting her into his arms. He twirled her around, looking for a surface - any surface - to set her down on, all while trying not to break their heated kiss. He found the nearest bookshelf, setting her down on it and in the process knocking down a few journals that'd been placed on it.
Mark paused for a moment and pulled away from Elsie, breathing heavily.
"Take off your clothes," he whispered, as he began to unbutton his own shirt.
---
Ooc: so sorry for such a delay Cass!
I loves you!
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Post by Elsie James on May 29, 2012 15:52:28 GMT -5
OOC-- It's alright, I think I've more than reciprocated in kind... I love you too!
---------------------------Elsie's arms wound around his neck, pulling their torsos as close as she possibly could as she simultaneously bit down (gently) on his lower lip, her breasts practically crushed against his chest. She hooked her legs round his waist, letting him deposit her wherever he deemed fit. She regarded him for a beat or two as he drew away, her eyes lidded with lust and her chest heaving. Not breaking her eye contact with him, she slowly drew her frankly rather unflattering scrub top over her head, along with the thin vest top she'd pulled on for extra warmth that morning (it had been raining - though right now she wasn't in any sort of coherent mental state that would enable her to recall that) until she was sat there topless except for her bra. She toed her shoes off one after another, the only sound in the room their breathing and the rustle of clothing as her eyes followed Mark's fingers as they fumbled with each of his buttons, revealing a little more of his skin each time.
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Post by Mark Dashwood on May 29, 2012 17:12:02 GMT -5
A blaze of buttons, one after the other, felt the onslaught of lust radiating through Mark's veins. With a final tug, both rough yet precise (he did posses the hands of a surgeon, after all) he stripped the shirt from his torso just in time watch both the scrub top and vest drop from Elsie's possession. His thoughts were linear and one dimensional, clouded by one of the deadliest and most detrimental of sins, lust. The bright blue of his irises widened as he took in the sight before him and he once more he threaded his arms around her waist, his lips smashing onto hers. His trousers were becoming unbearable in their discomfort, as he attempted many hastily yet skilled movements at once, including undoing the tie of her trousers while lifting her once more. He carried her this time to the conference table where their lewd, indecent actions had started, and laid her down, his hands firmly giving her bum a squeeze before leaving her be to work on his own trousers.
He slipped away his buttons, then his zip and now stood, hovering above her in his boxers. Gently he reached a hand out to run it down her chest, in between her breasts, and to her navel, awaiting her permission to remove the scrubs.
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Post by Elsie James on May 29, 2012 17:34:02 GMT -5
OOC- There is an advert for Sudocrem at the bottom of the page... I feel like a bad person!
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Elsie could feel the bulge in his trousers as he attempted to manoeuvre her, and she twisted her hips patiently, desperate for some sort of friction to relieve or exacerbate - she wasn't sure which - the desire that seemed almost all-consuming and that was only increasing as their kiss became more frenzied. She desperately, to put it crudely, wanted to fuck his brains out, but part of her wanted to take it slowly, to savour the moment.
She let out a positively wanton moan against his lips and he groped her arse, sending further tendrils of lust shooting up and down her spine. It was the first 'proper' sound in the room for a while. They broke apart as he sat her down on the desk, and she leant back on her elbows and arched her back to grant him easier access as his finger traced an achingly and tortuously teasing path from her collarbone downwards, skimming all to quickly past her breasts and then stopping, incomprehensibly, at her stomach. She jerked her hips upwards once more, pushing them off the surface of the desk so that he could dispose of them.
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Post by Mark Dashwood on May 29, 2012 18:03:06 GMT -5
ooc: what is sudocream? We have different Ads, love. Lol.
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The jut of Elsie's hips and the lingering moan gave Mark the signal he needed. In one swift movement he'd done away with her trousers and then his own. His hands danced across her now bare thighs as she climbed onto the table, almost ontop of her, supporting himself with his knees. His eyes passed pleasingly along her frame, and his hands danced from her thighs, up to her breasts as he kneaded them out of their confinement, gingerly displaying each with enough attention. He leaned forward, consuming her lips, and with drew one hand to use as a steady post.
If he didn't have her soon, he was certain he would explode, but at the same time he wanted to savor the taste of her against his tongue.
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Post by Elsie James on May 29, 2012 18:15:24 GMT -5
Sudocrem is magic. In my house, it got used for everything from nappy rash to a grazed knee - it's a medicated cream, basically. I swear if someone's leg dropped off, my mother's first resort would be Sudocrem.
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Elsie leant back further, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she let out an involuntary hiss of air as his fingers danced around the delicate skin of her breasts. She pushed herself against him, wanting everything harder, everything more. Her legs wrapped round his waist once more, pulling him down towards her, her nails trailing along his back until her hands reached his bum.
Any thoughts of dragging out whatever this was - foreplay? It didn't quite seem to qualify, somehow - were forgotten now, abandoned in the haze of sheer desire. She moved her lips down from his, kissing across his jawline down to a sensitive spot on his neck, tongue and teeth grazing the skin as she gave in to some unexpressed and innate desire to mark him as her own.
She tried to shrug the shoulder straps of her bra off, but couldn't. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of Mark's boxers, and her lips met his forcefully once more as she slid them down over his hips.
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