#persistent whimsy

You stopped moving to catch your breath. The stillness was unmitigated indulgence. With both your hands braced on your boyfriend's tense stomach, you paused the gentle rocking motion of your hips that he was encouraging with breathy, melodic praise and raw physical pleasure. You couldn't see Isaac Night quaking beneath you, but you could feel his duress. The blindfold he insisted would enhance your experience still graced your eyes, left you blind and reliant on pure sensory information to parse the situation.

Your breaths were easy, albeit quicker than usual. Isaac's cock was unrelenting as it filled you to your farthest depths. Your thighs fit snugly over his hipbones while you rested your full weight on him. You could feel him beginning to lose the perfect control he'd clung to ever since he methodically undressed you and declared that today would be the day he made you come for him. Since that proud, bold assertion, he'd been spoiling you perfectly for what could have been one hour or three. You lost track of time without the benefit of vision, not that you minded.

You shifted your weight again, still relaxed as you rode him, still maintaining breaths that were steady and unharried. The head of his cock ground up against your cervix, coaxed a little mewl of satisfaction from you. Every steely inch of his shaft moved by a matter of degrees, a subtle, sensual massage that left your plush walls quivering with the expectation of more, even as you savored what he was already giving you. The lips of your cunt parted voraciously around the thickest part of him, flush with the bed of coarse, curly dark hair that was soaked and matted by now with the accumulated evidence of your pampering. The way you could feel him throbbing, feel his tinny heartbeat in the veins tracing his length whenever you clenched around him, was all it took to let you know that he could explode inside you at any second.

You were tempted to peek down at him, desperate to know what he looked like, suspended on the edge of climax while he stubbornly waited for you to join him there. When your hands crept up to consider your blindfold, his intercepted them with a sharp tsk.

"I told you, just focus on what feels good," Isaac sighed. The words came out more desperate than scolding.

You dipped, wiggled your hips greedily to jostle his cock inside you while you pressed the skin of your bare chest to his, yearning upward to search for his lips.

"Seeing you would feel good," you purred seductively.

You stole the luxury of a real thrust, drew up and off his unbearable stiffness, only to slide back down again to envelope him in excruciating hedonism. The quick flare of obscene pleasure as he thoroughly stroked your plush walls made your breath hitch, made you forget what you were saying. You did it again mindlessly, then one more time before you settled fully and reared upright to grind down, pressing him mercilessly into the grip of your deepest reaches. You loosed a wanton, fiery moan at the all-consuming sensation, settled there with him abducted into the perfect spot and made a rhythm of the slow, easy motion. Isaac helped automatically, one foot braced on the mattress so he could lift his pelvis, offer you his cock at the angle that would seat him the deepest inside you, allow you to ride him while expending the least effort.

You could hear every harrowed breath he curated, deep inhalations marred by stutters of exertion when he released. He had been tightly wound between your legs for a long time now, shaking with the effort of holding back and holding on. You were highly impressed that he'd managed to stave off his own orgasm for so long in service of chasing yours. When you leaned forward again to run your hands along the delicious expanse of his torso, prickling beads of sweat slicked beneath your palms. He was burning incredibly hot, considering how slowly you'd paced your coitus.

"Isaac," you sighed at his ear. "I don't want you to be disappointed, babe. With me or yourself. If I can't get there, I mean. It's just a personal quirk, it doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong."

"There's no biological basis for you not to experience orgasm," Isaac insisted stubbornly. Then he mouthed the slick skin at your neck, scorching breaths tickling the shell of your ear while the tone of his voice shifted, became sultry on a dime. "Anyway, no pressure, remember? We're just taking our time, having fun... you're still in charge. Just keep doing what feels good... don't worry about finishing. Unless you're tired and you wanna stop?"

"I warned you already, I could go all night like this," you giggled.

"Me too," Isaac assured you. "Just stay in the moment with me. Tonight's about the journey, right? Not the destination."

He kissed you, long and languid, rocking his pelvis up to meet yours in subtle, dazzling increments. Each minute thrust and pivot landed with enough force to leave you seeing stars behind the blindfold while you melted into the hedonistic affections Isaac lavished you with. His hands swept over every curve of your body he could reach, following planes and tracing trails he had long since memorized. His tongue flirted with yours, teased and tested against the entrance of your mouth while his patience waited for you to dictate the next expression of your shared ecstasy.

You languored with your lips fixed to his for a long time, moaning the decadence of your union while he did most of the work beneath you. His cock slid diligently into and out of your spoiled cunt, every intentional motion dragging him soothingly over nerve endings that craved his presence like a flower craves water. Each understated bump of his obdurate head to your cervix stoked the fire of your passions, fed the urge to feel him fucking you hard and fast. You tucked your face into the taut crook of his neck, moved your hips to meet his advances and heighten each impact into an eruption of bliss. The sensation spread through your belly, sparkled out through your limbs and collected in your lungs.

Your fingers flexed thoughtlessly in his curls while you panted, open-mouthed and suddenly desperate against the column of his throat. You could practically feel his smirk as held you tighter, masked by his quick, shallow gasps of exertion and the moans he couldn't contain any more than you. The cradle of his arms felt heavenly, but you instinctively chased a change in the angle of his impacts. You pushed upright for a final time, leaned so far that his heaving knees became a support that you were grateful for while he took over completely. His hands on your hips held you firm while he bounced you on his cock, his groans and cries filling the air in concert with yours as he travailed upward at a hectic, lust-driven pace.

You'd never felt so close to falling apart before and Isaac could tell. The unhinged, keening edge in your high moans, the scourge of your nails mindlessly marking his flesh, the clamp of your thighs around his straining waist, the spastic roll of your body as you yearned into his hard, quick upward thrusts...

Already stretched thin by the effort of fucking you higher, Isaac risked slowing his wild pace to sneak his thumb down between your legs. He swiped generously over your clit, every stroke hard, sloppy and hasty. You screamed his name while electric pleasure surged out to consume you, blazing through your veins, boiling deep in your gut, tingling and simmering down limbs that suddenly felt weak and fatigued. Your moans truncated sharply, gasping, almost panicked breaths all you could manage while Isaac guided you through the throes of a euphoria more intense than anything you'd ever experienced in your life.

You saw white and dizziness washed over you in a cruel wave. The next thing you knew, you were collapsed against Isaac's chest, shaking helplessly and whimpering in his embrace while he crooned and chuckled at your ear, prideful and grateful in the same ragged set of recovering breaths. His hands soothed over your fraught, overworked body, his lips grazing and lathering every part of you within easy reach. You were too shocked to do anything but go along when he urged you onto your back, gently tugged at the blindfold.

You blinked up at Isaac, eyes adjusting to the light to find him beaming down at you with the smug countenance of a cat lounging in a bed of yellow feathers.

"Still think it's 'not a big deal'?" he teased you softly.

You cleared your throat, nearly recovered from the mental haze of abandon, though the post-orgasmic high that gripped you could only be described as transcendent.

"You were right, I have been missing out," you realized wonderingly. "And to think... I just thought everyone was over-exaggerating."

"Now you know," Isaac purred at your ear. You knew him well enough to understand that he was holding himself back from an 'I told you so'. You let it slide, still floored by the blissful chemical confluence wreaking havoc throughout your body.

"Now I know," you giggled. "Fuuck, Isaac, that was really good..."

You pulled him close, rewarded him with the most intense, careless kiss you'd ever given a boy.

"Now... no rush, of course," he mumbled between swipes of your tongue across his lips, "... but when you feel like you can take me again, it's my turn. I really, really need to-"

"Well, wait!" you protested. "Wait, hold on just a minute."

You pinned him back against the mattress and he let you, even with his eyebrows shooting up inquisitively.

"Hold up?" he wondered.

"Don't be so eager to finish," you chastised him. "I thought it was about the journey tonight."

"It- it is, but, like-"

"Isaac, that felt amaaazing!" you sang jubilantly, covering his body with yours while he blinked up at you in disbelief. "You can do one more with me, can't you?"

"One- one more?" he gaped, horror tinging his incredulity.

"Yeah, make me come for you one more time," you grinned excitedly.

You mounted him smoothly, slid down his body to grip his brutally hard cock. The way he seized up when you touched him was a demonstration of his harangued state, the quick, immediate hike of his breaths betraying how badly he really wanted to let go and finally come.

"We've already been going for- I need to- fuck, I don't know how much longer I can really last!" Isaac whined.

The face he made when you dragged his stiff, aching member through your slick folds was almost pained, tense and drawn with the effort of restraining himself. You sympathized, but bit your lip. For once, carnal greed overshadowed your typical sexual generosity.

"You can do it for me," you crooned, leaning down to press a line of encouraging kisses to his neck, marked by visibly straining veins and coated in salty sweat. You took him inside again and the sound he made for you was raw and ragged, almost more agonized than pleasured.

"I- I... ohh, fuck!" Isaac moaned.

He slung an arm over his face, hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow like another glimpse of your sensuous body moving over his would finish him on the spot. You moaned with him, the stretch of his engorged member against your orgasm-ravaged cunt a new, nigh untenably delectable experience. You were sensitive and somehow able to feel more of him than ever before. Or maybe you were just feeling him more potently, every unyielding inch of him caressing your already abused walls and lavishing you with unrelenting ecstasy. You moved experimentally and drew a series of profane, unhinged moans from Isaac that you matched shamelessly.

"Mm, you feel so- god, you feel so good, filling me up so- so- oh, Isaac!"

"You're gonna... I can't... you're gonna kill me," he groaned in exasperation. "You're spoiled, you know that?"

"What's the matter, I thought you were happy to spoil me rotten?" you challenged him feistily. "What happened to 'going all night' and 'enjoying the journey', or 'doing what feels good'? Hm? I thought you said I was in charge tonight..."

"Yeah, but I- nng! Ugh! I don't know how much longer I can-"

You were too far gone to answer him further, already too immured in your selfish depravity to comfort his repressed desolation with anything more coherent than a branding, imperious kiss.

Isaac surrendered to your whims, committed to white-knuckling at least one more round of sexual excess for the sake of your satisfaction.

There was a mystery pervert terrorizing Nevermore academy.

A promising Da Vinci yourself, you weren't trying to put yourself in the crosshairs of whoever it was. All you wanted to do was pass your classes and bide your time until graduation. Just a little longer and you would be able to drag yourself out of the adolescent hellscape that was high school.

When you first heard the other girls discussing the mystery groper in hushed tones in the quad, you walked a little faster. You had better things to do than indulge their flights of fancy. Anyway, they were probably just imagining things, you thought somewhat derisively.

Until you felt a hand on the small of your back in class one day.

The sensation was subtle, but unmistakable. You jumped a little and it dissipated just long enough to make you doubt your own senses. Were you imagining things too?

Then you felt fingers on your thigh under the uniform skirt that was mandatory at Nevermore.

Your indignation flared, but you held your rage in check for a few crucial seconds while your eyes darted around the classroom. You weren't the only Da Vinci present. Who was harassing you? Who would have the nerve to be so flagrant with their inexcusable little prank?

Puzzlingly, none of the other Da Vincis were really moving their hands. One was, right up at the front of the class, but you could clearly see the pencil frantically scratching down notes on the desk in front of him. That ruled him out as a suspect right off the bat. As a Da Vinci, you knew better than most that there were limits to your ability. Multi-tasking wasn't impossible, but no one at Nevermore was advanced enough to pull off a trick like molestation at the same time as such precise note-taking.

You shook yourself in your seat, the movement effective enough to disperse the psychic energy creeping its way between your legs. You seethed for the rest of the class, creating a mental catalogue of the possible suspects.

Someone was messing with you and they were going to pay.

The second time it happened you were in the quad studying. That phantom tingle crept down your spine again, unseen fingers brushing your hair aside to caress your neck. You looked up, whipped your head around as your heart pounded and the sensation crept lower. Someone nearby was stealing a gratuitous fondle of your breast. You clenched your teeth, suffering the intrusion just long enough to take stock of your company. It was a nice day out. Once again, there were too many possible culprits.

One face stuck out among the common factors. Once again, that Da Vinci who always sat at the front of the one class you shared. Isaac Night. Everyone at Nevermore knew his name, knew he was supposed to be brilliant. You'd never spoken to him personally. Reclusive as you prided yourself on being, he was even more of a loner than you were.

Once again, you dismissed him as a possibility. He was using his telekinesis to sketch something idly in the shadow of the werewolf statue dominating the yard. No, it had to be one of these other losers... but who? No one was moving suspiciously.

You shook yourself as hard as a dog trying to dry itself. Whoever this was, you were going to make sure they regretted adding you to their pool of victims.

The third time, you were nearly incensed enough to start breathing fire. The same class, the same slew of dumb faces, the same motionless hands that couldn't be the ones sliding around under your clothes like an infestation of termites.

Motionless hands from all the Da Vincis in the classroom... except for Isaac Night.

Possibility nagged in the back of your mind while you watched him take notes with his ability. Why not just write them out manually like the rest of your outcast cohort? Was he really that much of a show-off, that proud of his ability?

You watched his fingers more closely, noticed the pose of his hand. His pinky finger moved in concert with the rhythm of his pencil. His index finger trailed at a lazier, subtler pace. Your eyes narrowed. You all but held your breath, measuring the speed of the invisible hands stroking the insides of your thighs. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was the same tempo he kept with his index finger.

Was he that advanced, that he could multi-task so insidiously?

Your suspicions were raised higher than your hackles and the ghostly fingers were sneaking far higher than you cared to let them.

Isaac Night wasn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve.

You crooked your index finger with a distinct air of malice, lifted a textbook off the desk behind Isaac. Its owner had dozed off in class. You levitated it over the mess of curls barely contained by slick gel, let it hover for a fraction of a second, then dropped it on the other Da Vinci's head.

Isaac yelped and cursed. Everyone in the classroom gasped, but most importantly, you didn't fail to notice that the stroke of unseen hands over your skin disappeared entirely.

"Who did that?" the professor demanded.

When everyone else turned to look around, you played along, quizzically shifting your gaze from one classmate to the next while Isaac grumbled and rubbed the top of his head. You met his dark eyes across the room in the confusion. You couldn't keep the scowl from falling across your face. He regarded you with dumb shock for a split second; then broke out into a mischievous grin.

You had found your mystery groper.

"You won't do that again."

You caught him in the hall after class let out, hands on your hips, stance squared with anger rolling off you in waves. He looked you up and down like he was seeing you for the first time. His inspection only made you angrier. Had he not bothered to look at the people he was tormenting while he got his twisted kicks?

"No idea what you're talking about," he smirked.

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you're the mystery pervert," you snarled in accusation. "You're going to knock it off, you hear me?"

"Like I said," he chuckled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The confident set of his sharp, pale features and the smugness radiating off him screamed an unspoken double meaning at you past the bustle and rush of your fellow students.

What are you going to do about it, huh? You can't prove anything.

"Look, I might not have any hard evidence," you scowled, putting a finger in his face boldly, "But you won't touch me again. If you do, I promise you'll live to regret it. You got that?"

Something sinister twinkled behind his deep brown eyes. His smile widened enough to show you some teeth, an unnervingly animalistic display. With an unpleasant little jolt, you realized he had taken your words as some kind of sick challenge.

"One last time... I don't have a clue what you're going on about," he all but purred. "But I pity the creep who catches himself in your crosshairs. You've got some bite in you."

He pushed past you, much more of his long body sliding against yours than was necessary, even accounting for the crowd of students pushing their way to and from classes.

You swallowed hard, your rage mixing with the unwilling stirrings of tantalization.

For a pervert, he was kinda hot. In a creepy, off-putting, sociopathic way.

You made your way to class the next day with nervous flutterings unsettling the bile in your gut. There was Isaac, sat at the front of the class with his pencil ready, attention fixed ahead as studiously as ever. You knew better than to think you had scared him off with your threats.

Halfway through class, you breathed a little sigh of relief. All Isaac seemed to be doing today was taking notes. You glanced around surreptitiously. None of the other girls seemed bothered. Had your warning been effective after all?

Your pride inflated, only to be trampled a second later when something tickled your ankle. You shook your foot a little, but the feeling persisted. With a tight frown, you started looking around for things you could throw psychically without attracting too much attention.

Then the fingers became more aggressive.

You had to stifle a shocked little gasp as they dragged unceremoniously over your underwear, perfectly at the apex of your thighs. You clamped your legs closed immediately, only for the unseen force to press them apart again abruptly. You shot a harsh glare toward the front of the classroom to find Isaac taking notes with his left hand for once. You couldn't see his right, but you knew it was under his desk, fingers occupied with their sordid little dance. His expression was neutral, betraying no hint of his crime.

Fingers crept past hems, your bare skin prickling with reflexive pleasure at the touch. Unamused, you focused your attention on Isaac's pencil, determined to wrest it from his grasp and stab him with it. He gripped it harder, note-taking ceased while the two of you battled silently. The telekinetic war didn't distract him from his quest to sully you. Conjured fingers slid through the slick collecting helplessly between your legs and you swallowed a wretched little moan at the feeling. One slipped inside of you and you jerked in your seat like someone was electrocuting you.

You bit your lip hard, clenched your right hand into a fist at the same time as your cunt clenched around the stimulation swirling around and around against your trembling walls. Your ability surged, strong enough to hoist Isaac's pencil high into the air above his head. He refused to let it go, so his hand shot straight up into the air. You caught yourself panting in response to the phantom sensation of him fucking you in class with firm strokes of long, lithe fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Night? You had a question?" the professor asked.

Isaac's concentration was finally broken enough to release you from the grip of his powers. He stammered, pulled his hand back down with excessive force and blurted out the first question that came to mind. The class laughed because it was a little on the absurd side. You didn't laugh. You were too busy catching your breath and fuming, shifting uncomfortably in your seat while wet arousal seeped through your clothes.

He didn't try it again and when class let out, he all but sprinted from the room.

Later, alone in your room, you finished what he'd started. You coaxed out a gasping, thrashing orgasm with your own fingers and his smug face floating behind your closed eyes. Half of your conscience was angry with him, the other half with yourself. Never one to accept defeat, your clever mind began to formulate a counter-strategy while you washed up and recovered.

Class the next day was electrifying while you waited for Isaac to show his hand.

Do it. I dare you. Go ahead and do it.

You glared at the back of his head, waiting, waiting, waiting. You tapped your foot impatiently. Had yesterday been enough of a close call to scare him off his perverted antics for a while?

You giggled out loud when you felt a hand on your stomach. The professor called on you to ask if you had a question, but you shrugged it off and he moved on quickly while Isaac pinched one of your nipples and kept pretending to take notes. You swallowed your excitement when you caught a glimpse of the cocky little smirk he couldn't quite keep off his face.

My turn, you thought, vengeance dripping deliciously from your smile. You tolerated the airy palm pressing against your breasts long enough to slide your right hand under your desk. You crooked your fingers, watching Isaac like a hawk for any sign of his reaction.

Isaac twitched, surprise wiping the smirk off his face completely when he felt fingers close around his neck. He shifted uncomfortably, loosened his collar with his left hand, adjusted his tie and cleared his throat quietly. You thought he would back down, but instead, his grip on your body tightened. You came within a hair's breadth of crying out when he twisted a nipple hard enough to hurt a little.

Subtly then, you thought stubbornly. You were determined not to abandon your plan, even if provoking him so aggressively had proven to be a dangerous prospect.

Isaac gulped so loud that you heard it across the classroom when you slid the force of your ability slowly down his chest under his clothes. In retaliation, he went straight for the kill. You bit down on your left hand as his fingers spread your folds wide, their pads swirling threateningly over your eager entrance. Neither of you could keep the pace of your breathing steady as each of you refused to be the first to break.

Isaac was already hard when your phantom hand rubbed over the front of his pants hard enough to chafe. You were already soaked when he thrust what must have been at least two fingers deep inside you. Isaac's notes trailed off into illegible scribbles while your teeth marked the side of your hand. Both your eyes were glazed over, fixed ahead as you invested all your attention to the psychic battle of wills that your oblivious class had no clue you were waging.

You closed your fingers around his erection, pulled it straight down the left leg of his pants so you could stroke it fully from tip to base. Isaac leaned forward in his seat, covered his mouth with his left hand while his leg twitched erratically under the influence of your projected touch. You leaned back in your seat, legs falling open wider on impulse while the surge of his phantom fingers sped up excruciatingly. Bliss gripped you both in a chokehold while you each struggled to control your breathing enough to avoid attracting attention.

What started as perverse, one-sided harassment had escalated into a silent game of chicken. The unspoken rules were understood simultaneously by both parties. Whoever broke first would lose.

You squirmed in your seat, clenching around invisible fingers while your eyelids fluttered deliriously with ecstasy. You swiped your thumb over Isaac's slit, catching a bead of precum that you slathered over his throbbing head enthusiastically. The meagre lubrication almost broke him. He shifted his weight desperately like a caged animal, panting softly while his fingers worked frantically in reprisal. You groaned out loud when he found your clit, abused it ruthlessly while he stretched you wider. Drawn by the soft sound, the professor looked your way. You flashed him a tight smile, nodding along like you had the faintest idea what the hell he was drabbling on about.

Isaac had found a distinct advantage in your twisted little contest. Your chest heaved, your eyes rolled back into your head. You knew it was only a matter of time before you came right here at your desk. The only question was, could you do it quietly enough to stay in the game?

You needed an edge, something to level the playing field. Vision blurring from carnal euphoria, you could only think to go faster. Simple, but effective, you noted with smug satisfaction. Isaac all but doubled over at his desk, mouth falling open as his hips twitched spastically.

"Mr. Night! Are you quite alright?!" the professor demanded.

"I'm fine!" he snapped, the words terse and strained. He straightened in his seat stubbornly, running his left hand through his hair to brush it back out of his face. The distraction caused his rhythm to falter, afforded you a much needed reprieve from the incessant, insistent stimulation driving you closer to climax one agonizing second at a time. He started up again before long, but it was already too late. The match was decided.

"If you're not feeling well, you can consider yourself excused," the professor said generously.

"I'm f-fine!" Isaac keened, leaning forward on his elbows as a sound close to a whimper tore from the base of his throat. "Just... a cramp... ooohh!"

Snickers ripped through the classroom. You couldn't help but giggle along a little, elation filling you. You were the only one who knew Isaac had just finished, cum soaking through the leg of his dark pants in a subtle, sticky stain. He pivoted in his seat to fix you with a brief, resentful glare. You crossed your arms over your chest and leered back at him, undaunted and smirking your victory.

Class ended far too soon. This time, you blocked his egress before he could flee.

"Get out of my way!" he hissed, still seething with defeat and humiliation.

"Oh, don't be a sore loser," you taunted him cheekily. Pleased as you were with your success, you were still painfully turned on, upper thighs coated with slick in the wake of your brutal, unresolved fingering. "I was just gonna say... I might be behind the greenhouse later tonight. You know. If you felt like finishing what you started today..."

The flabbergasted, uncomprehending look he fixed you with melted into an insufferable grin after a few seconds while your classmates streamed out around you.

"And reward you for that little spectacle?" he tsked.

"Mm, I see, you can't get it up in person," you mocked sassily. "Oh well... guess I'll just have to take care of myself behind that greenhouse tonight."

He scoffed, but couldn't come up with a retort fast enough. You turned your back to him, giggling triumphantly as you skipped through the halls.

Your soon to be ex-boyfriend squirmed nervously in an armchair that didn't belong to either of you. It was Isaac Night's, as was the room you now found yourself in, naked as the day you'd been born. Isaac was as naked as you were, lounging lewdly on the edge of his bed with a distinct air of self-satisfaction while he waited for you to make yourself comfortable. If he felt self-conscious in the least, he hid it masterfully. This could have been the most casual rendezvous in the world for all the stress he betrayed.

While you stood awkwardly a foot from his bed, uncertain of where to put your hands, he was laid out on full, confident display. One elbow poked into the give of the mattress, the fingers of his hand lost in the raven tangle of curls that framed an eager, curious face. Caramel eyes took stock of your body with a muted appreciation, more akin to a man browsing in an art gallery than a boy staring down a conquest waiting to be taken. You gulped hard, avoided looking at him directly as chagrin threatened to overcome your spite. Motion in the periphery of your vision gave you an excuse to direct your gaze at your idiot boyfriend.

"Knock that off!" you scolded him when you caught sight of his hand creeping between his legs.

Unlike you and Isaac, he had all his clothes on. He fixed you with a sad pout. Your scowl only deepened in response, unsympathetic to his apparent misery.

"You were the one who made the wager," you reminded him caustically. "Now you're the one who'll have to reap the consequences of such a bone-headed stunt."

"I didn't think I would lose," he protested lamely. "And- and I won't lie, I... I also never thought you would go along with it in a million years even if I did."

"I wasn't going to," you admitted. "But ironically, the best revenge I can think of is to make you watch while I pay the price for your moron behavior."

"Pay the price?" Isaac chipped in, wounded by your phrasing. "What's the matter, you don't trust me to show you a good time?"

"Don't make this about you, you're a foot note in this story at best!" you snapped. "This is about me, him, and the principle of the thing."

Admittedly, that wasn't entirely true, but you weren't yet willing to lose face in this exchange. Not while so much was still uncertain.

"Look, you've made your point, babe, I'm sorry, alright?" your boyfriend whined. "I'm a dumbass, I can't deny that, but I'll never-"

"Accept a bet and put my sexual favors up as the stakes?!" you demanded furiously.

"Ah, just to be clear, he was the one who proposed these stakes," Isaac pointed out smugly. "I was the one who accepted, actually..."

"What did I just tell you?!" you demanded in exasperation.

Isaac's grin only widened. Despite yourself, your gaze swept down the long, bared expanse of his sinuous body. A salacious thrill shot through you at the sensuous sight of him, poised and waiting for you on the bed. You'd always been attracted to Isaac Night. If your idiot boyfriend would have had the nerve to make his bet with anyone else, you would have kicked both men in the balls and been done with the whole sordid affair. As it was, you were more eager to let Isaac collect his prize than you were strictly amenable to confessing out loud.

The sparkle in Isaac's dark eyes when they met yours suggested that he suspected your willingness, poorly concealed beneath your facade of indignant reticence.

"Foot note, right," Isaac purred. "Your boy's touching himself again, by the way."

You licked your lips, resentment overshadowed by the lust boiling deep in your gut as you indulged the long-standing desire to see Isaac naked. His frame had always seemed lanky and thin clothed, but nudity did him the favor of revealing lithe, subtle lines of muscle and straining tendons. You couldn't help your arousal any more than the boys in the room.

"If he won't behave, we could always kick him out," you pointed out feistily.

"Huh?!" came the unhappy background reply. You didn't dignify it with a response.

Isaac smirked at the proposal, almost more enticed by the idea that you wanted to get him alone than the prospect of punishing your ex. He sat up on the bed, beckoned you closer with crooking fingers and parted lips.

"I thought the whole point was to make him pay for disrespecting your autonomy," Isaac reminded you. "Anyway... if you let him stay, it could prove educational... don't you want me to show him the right way to please a girl?"

You drifted closer tantalizingly, invited his hands to explore your body while turmoil fluttered through your belly, spite battling with the reflexive need for privacy.

"Why should I care if he picks up a trick or two?" you reasoned, heart pounding as Isaac's teeth clamped down over his bottom lip with anticipation. "This is the last time I'll ever let him see me naked anyway."

"Serves him right. You're too gorgeous for the likes of him anyway," Isaac breathed admiringly. His eyes raked over you, gleaming with lechery so intense it approached the avarice of a petty thief eying a diamond choker in broad daylight.

You could be nothing but disgustingly pleased with the attention.

Isaac touched you with restraint, eagerness leashed for the sake of torturing your audience. His hands teased across your body, fingers tickling, palms sliding up from your waist across quivering, sensitive skin until they cupped your breasts. He held your eyes the entire time and the purposefulness behind his explorations made you forget you weren't alone with him for a brief second.

"I can't watch this!" your ex groaned, lurching to his feet.

Your displeased scowl was all the direction Isaac needed. He flexed his wrist, twisted the fingers of his right hand and forced your ex back into the chair, arms stuck fast to the rests as futile complaints filled the air. Isaac met your eyes, searching for approval with an eagerness that you devoured hungrily.

"Or did you want him out?" Isaac wondered.

You shook your head wordlessly and dipped to reward his contribution to your contrived debauchery with a sloppy kiss. You ignored the escalating sounds of your ex-boyfriend's protests, focused on the smug upward curvature of Isaac's thin lips and the way his fingers dug enthusiastically into the small of your back, urging you closer. You swept your hands indulgently over his body, mapping unfamiliar planes and foreign declivities. His lean, sculpted form was ripped straight from the ether of your fantasies, deposited jarringly into reality for your rapt appreciation.

You drew in a harsh gasp at the sensation of his mouth traveling down your body, wet, hungry and hot against your collar, your breasts, your ribs, your navel. Isaac's signature intensity was on full display as his focus turned entirely to the cause of your arousal.

A queer gratitude thrilled within you, sang your licentious resignation with the absurd scenario. You'd been admiring Isaac Night from afar, silent and reserved, for years. You never would have had the nerve to approach him with solicitation on your own. You couldn't contain a sardonic little smirk at the thought that your ex-boyfriend had unwittingly done you a favor by dragging you into his idiotic little wager.

Isaac's attentions were rough, performative as he lavished your subtly wavering flesh. His eyes kept flicking up to yours, appraising your inapt enthusiasm, constantly wary as though the slightest hint of discomfort on your part would put an end to the production instantaneously. Your satisfaction with his advances must have been apparent in your expression, because he only grew more eager with every upward glance. Emboldened, his teeth came out to play, teasing the sensitive span approaching your thighs while he squeezed your ass and urged you even closer.

"Are you sure you don't want me to kick him out?" Isaac murmured.

You gulped hard while your ex whined despairingly in the background. There was something tender in Isaac's expression that tempted you to abandon your designs for the other boy's torment in favor of getting this one completely alone. Savagery, pettiness and the magnitude of the slight against your pride held you back, bolstered your resolve.

"No, he deserves every second," you scowled. "Make him regret it for me?"

Isaac's mischievous smirk leered up at you as you returned his questioning touches. The brief appearance of his tongue as it slid across his teeth was seductive and disturbing, his perversion on full display as he leaned back for you. You loomed over him, one knee resting on the bed at his side while you pulled his mouth back to yours and slid your free hand down his torso ravenously. You brushed his stiff cock in passing, the sheer heat of his arousal eliciting an uncontrollable moan from you as his tongue teased yours and his teeth scraped over your lip in bold instigation. His legs fell open wider for you even as you took your time groping lower at a leisurely pace.

Isaac remained patient while you slowly worked your way up to touching him, gathering nerve while your nails grazed the inside of his thigh lazily. He rewarded you with a low, pleased hum when you finally palmed his erection, drew back to watch while you familiarized yourself with the shape of his excitement. He slid, silky, searing and unyielding against your hand, a slight upward inclination of his hips underscoring his restrained enthusiasm. Titillation at exploring the anatomy of a prospective new lover thrilled through you, electric and even more forbidden than usual for the groaning audience at your back.

Spite filled you in depraved conjunction with lust. You tightened your grip on Isaac's cock, ran your free hand admiringly down the arm casually supporting his weight while he caught your gaze again. The sparkle in his eyes was conspiratorial, like you were two partners in crime. The malicious cause of exacting vengeance on your ex felt more like a game than a sin.

You cast your gaze back to the squirming, moping ex-boyfriend in question. If you caught him enjoying the show, you were resolved to kick him out. As it was, he seemed appropriately miserable, so you turned your attention back to Isaac. The vital pulse of veins through his member was telling, his eagerness exposed by the moisture beading at his slit as you rubbed the sensitive head and smeared it around like lotion. The hum of his pleasure peaked into a quiet growl and he surged back up to confiscate control from you. One smooth, simple motion dragged you down into his lap, a second deposited you on your back in the span of two or three quick, ragged breaths.

You let Isaac take the lead, content to function as a prop in the theater of your ex's humiliation. Isaac seemed to know what would cause him suffering better than you did and you were only too happy to play along. Especially since the path of retribution ended with Isaac prying your legs apart, ducking to taste the evidence of your willingness with a wanton moan of rapture.

"Fuck, she's wet for me," Isaac panted, rising long enough to flash your ex an insufferable grin. "Can you see from back there? Huh? Here..."

He hiked your knee higher, dragged two fingers through your slick and smeared the moisture along your thigh in demonstration. You rolled your eyes, dubious at first, only for Isaac's tongue to quell your doubts in the next breath. It flicked out obscenely to tease your clit while his firm grip kept you open and helpless for his intrusion. You could only moan and spasm, your whimpers of pleasure drowning out your ex's whines of protest while Isaac licked and fingered you. He was fervent, making absolutely sure you were ready to take him while he taunted your impotent audience with the frustration of watching another boy touch you.

You were tempted to feel disappointment when Isaac pulled away, only for it to fade instantly as he meticulously arranged you on the edge of his bed. He posed you on your side, slid behind you and encouraged you to spread out for him like a flower in full bloom. His intentions couldn't have been clearer. He was engineering a perfect view of your despoilment, curated especially to enhance your ex's ongoing humiliation. You shivered with delight as Isaac's lips ravaged yours, held your attention perfectly hostage.

He pinched your nipples until they peaked for him, kneaded the tender flesh of your breasts until you were moaning unabashedly into his open mouth. The steel of his arousal pressing insistently against your ass ensured you were wetter than ever before as you leaned back to slot neatly into the cradle of Isaac's degeneracy. You ached to feel him entering you, shuddered with delight at the thought of how he would feel filling you up.

He broke the kiss and leaned over your body, frustrating you with dalliance as his lips skimmed over your twisting form. You fisted one hand in his sheets while he lapped and sucked at your nipples, bit and lathed over your ribs, threatened to mark your throat with the vigor of his rapacity.

"Isaac!" you complained exasperatedly.

"Ready for me?" he teased, just loud enough to let your ex hear. He gripped the base of his cock and dragged it through your yearning lips, teased your clit with the ridge of the head, tormented your quivering entrance with proximity.

You hummed your approval, nodded zealously as your entire body tensed with delectable anticipation.

"Let me hear you, tell me you need it," Isaac coaxed you. The brief redirection of his glance implied a double meaning.

Let him hear how bad you need me.

"Please, Isaac, I need you you so bad!" you mewled, your slight smirk betraying the game even as you contorted with the effort of chasing the friction between his cock and your soaked cunt.

"Yeah?" he grinned, rubbing harder and digging the fingers of his free hand into your thigh, further exposing you and the spectacle of his slow, fervid grind against your desperation.

"Yeah!" you gasped, only half-performing. Your body burned with desire, with the genuine urge to take him.

"Do you need me inside you?" Isaac purred, still teasing, still dragging the sordid spectacle out torturously. "Need me filling that tight, sweet little pussy for you? Hm?"

He smacked his length against your wet folds, forced a series of depraved moans from you as you thrust and writhed against him.

"Yes, Isaac, I- fuck, please give it to me!" you whimpered.

The way he crushed his lips to yours was possessive, urgent as though he couldn't stand to hear you begging for one more second. He finally gave you what you wanted, entered you with breathtaking roughness undermined severely by the fact that he matched your high, pretty moans breath for breath as he bottomed out. Your senses swam with the ecstasy of such thorough fulfillment after so much teasing.

"Tight," Isaac noted breathily at your ear, pausing to let you adjust. "Used to something smaller, I take it?"

His cockiness would have been infuriating under any other circumstances, but your emotional register was already overwhelmed by the lethal combination of unadulterated lust and pure vengefulness gripping you. It was easy to melt into his embrace, to arch back against his body and grind wantonly into the thrust of his hips against your ass. Your head spun with dizziness while he teased your nipples and scraped his teeth over your pulse. You loosed a high, intentional moan, basked in the attentions he lathered you with.

"Fuuuuck," Isaac sighed, hiking your leg higher still to afford himself better access. "Fuck, you feel so good... look at you, taking it so perfectly for me... that's right, lemme hear you... tell me how good it feels when I fuck you..."

And you did. You whimpered his name, whined your pleasure as he carved his way gradually deeper with every slow, unyielding press of his throbbing erection into your slick heat. Isaac was bigger than what you were accustomed to, stretching you a little farther every time he drew out and pushed in again. He bathed your form with incrementally escalating carnal greed that left you rasping for breath and begging for more. His lips periodically interrupted the deluge of your gratitude, locking against yours with a hunger that seemed more driven by genuine desire than contempt.

The way Isaac kissed you was confusing, the steady tempo of his defilement suspiciously closer to lovemaking than the ravagement he purportedly intended it as. His tongue in your mouth felt like a claim and the bite of his fingers into your flesh felt like possession. Every heavy drag of his cock against your fluttering, overworked walls felt like a devotion to your euphoria, no longer an orchestration for the benefit of a forgotten observer. The repeated impact of his head against your deepest, most ravenous reaches was unraveling you sooner than you'd anticipated.

You were rendered incoherent and oblivious with alarming speed, left in delirious pieces held together only by Isaac's fevered embrace. His voice, soft and intimate at your ear, kept you grounded and hoisted you higher at the same time, drove everything but his presence from your mind as your senses spiraled rapidly into luxurious abandon. He wrapped and filled you both at once, stirred and settled your passions in the same sultry breath, devoured and displayed your undoing with rabid lips and teeth that tasted like aggravated, unrequited desire.

"God, that's it!" he moaned hoarsely, breath hot against your clammy skin as he labored behind and inside and around you. "Fuck, you're gorgeous when you scream for me, let me hear you... close? God, I can tell you're close, you're squeezing me so damn tight, so fucking- come for me, babe, fuck! Let me feel you, I wanna feel you come on my cock, do it for me..."

Isaac sank his teeth into your heaving shoulder like he felt the need to gag himself before he could give too much away while you cried out and arched into the delicious impact he fed you with every escalating thrust, every unhinged slap of his arousal against yours. The heat of him enveloped and permeated you, coated you in his sweat while wet pooled and spread at the site of your frenzied union, soaking your thighs and his exorbitantly as he kept slamming into you tirelessly.

Isaac clutched you close while he pushed you over the edge of your climax, bore it with victorious glee when your fingers twisted thoughtlessly through his hair and your nails dug viciously into his wrist. He fucked you through it, slowed his pace when your throes peaked and your keening cries hit their highest point. Despite the relaxation of his body against yours, you could still feel him hard and throbbing inside you, moving against your clenching, oversensitive walls in a sublime, patient massage.

"Good?" he wondered, panting for breath in the wake of his exertions as he loomed over your shoulder.

You twisted vigorously, demanded his lips imperiously while his hips kept moving in a slow, grinding rhythm designed to soothe your fervor in the wake of your explosive orgasm. Your entire focus was on Isaac, his cock stroking your spent cunt languidly, his hands sliding over your satiated flesh, his tongue sweeping over your sore lips like a balm.

"Jesus Christ, are you two gonna wrap this up, or what?!"

The irritated comment reminded you for the first time in a while that you weren't alone.

"What's the matter, in a hurry to be somewhere?" Isaac snarked. "Or can't you even last this long?"

"Fuck," you grumbled discontentedly. "I forgot he was still here."

"Hey!" your ex grumbled.

Isaac grinned wide and raised his right hand.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he purred. "If I get rid of him... can I still keep you a little while longer?"

His telekinesis unlocked the door and forced your whining ex to his feet. Isaac plied you with a little extra incentive, as though you actually needed any more convincing.

"Stay a little longer, and I'll make sure you finish at least one more time," Isaac promised suppliantly. "Betcha I can go a lot longer than he can..."

"Fine by me," you sighed contentedly.

Isaac forced the other boy out of the room, slammed the door on him and clicked the lock shut. As soon as you were alone, he rearranged your positions, covered your body with his in missionary so he could deepen your kiss and surge back between your legs. You could only moan your approval, fingers dancing down the straining plane of his back as he settled above you with an air of satisfaction that suggested this was what he'd really wanted all along.

"I have a confession to make," Isaac murmured at your ear. He drew back to meet your eyes, somehow more intense than ever as the motion of his hips between your legs slowed to a crawl and his fingers laced through yours intimately. "I've always been jealous of your stupid, cuck boyfriend."

The admission was the farthest thing from surprising after the rigors of lovemaking he'd just subjected you to. You smirked your own satisfaction, affirmed his grip on your hand by squeezing back, encouraged his slow thrusts by wrapping your legs around his waist securely.

"Ex -boyfriend," you corrected him smugly. "And if we're being honest now... I always wanted you more anyway."

You knew it was going to be trouble from the minute Isaac Night spotted the mark peeking up past your turtleneck sweater.

As careful as you'd been to hide your little tryst from everyone, Isaac noticed everything about you. You spent a lot of time being flattered by that fact, but for once, you found yourself wishing he would respect your privacy a little more.

To make matters worse, you were in class when he took it upon himself to investigate.

You stretched idly, yawning wide with sleepiness from last night. The relieving crane of your neck felt incredible, but it also exposed the barest portion of a salacious little mark. Alarmingly, you felt the tell-tale sensation of telekinetic force swishing around your throat. Someone yanked your collar down, then gasped harshly enough for you to hear them all the way across the classroom.

You squealed with surprise and dismay, then grabbed your collar hastily and shoved it back up all the way to your ears. With your neck scrunched down as close as possible to your shoulders in a posture of indignant defensiveness, you rotated in your seat to fix the most likely culprit with a furious glare. Isaac looked shell-shocked, arms crossed over his chest while he stared back at you from two rows behind.

The two of you had an arrangement. Tit for tat, quid pro quo, an eye for an eye. Discreetly, you slipped the ring off your middle finger beneath the desk. It was more than a decoration or an accessory. It was a charm that held your powers in check to make your telepathy bearable, both to yourself and others. Isaac winced as your consciousness collided with his with all the delicacy credited to bulls rampaging through china shops. You executed the psychic equivalent of hoisting the messy, haphazardly organized drawer of his mind and shaking it out upside down.

Isaac didn't protest, just closed his eyes and turned his focus inward while you invaded his mind. He knew the rules. He had violated your autonomy. You didn't always care when it came to him, he had permission that no one else in the world did. You did, however, demand your pound of flesh in return. You refused to give without taking in equal measure. Isaac knew that about you and he respected it.

More than respect, you realized for the first time as his emotions assaulted you. Isaac adored your brutality, the uncompromising aspect of your nature that, in his eyes, set you leagues above your peers.

You were flattered, but not enough to halt your ingress of his warped, labyrinthine neural network.

As per usual, Isaac's thoughts weren't simple and there was a lot you didn't understand. You were still impressed by his capacity to multi-task, his ability to hold concurrent disparate threads of inquiry in his mind simultaneously. Genius, indeed. He was thinking about five big things at the moment, including how he needed to think about anything in the entire world other than what he had just been thinking about.

I heard that! Spit it out, Night! you shot his way angrily.

Make me, he thought intentionally, the sentiment echoing in his mind as he doubled down on his resolve over and over again. The resonant loop drowned out whatever else had been on his mind, almost like he was filling his own head with static noise to cover up whatever he felt the need to hide.

You gritted your teeth with frustration. As tempting as it was to force your way through his mental layers and pry the truth out of his obstinate psyche, that approach wasn't without risk. You didn't want to leave Isaac in a vegetative state. Anyway, the background noise, the inane, unending chatter of the other student's minds was already starting to grate on your nerves.

Grudgingly, you slipped the ring back on your finger and fixed your attention back to the front of the class.

"Who did that to you?" Isaac demanded when class let out. It was your last class of the day. Of the entire week, in fact.

"Not your business," you purred. Isaac adjusted his grip on his books, walked faster to keep pace with you. The scowl he wore twisted his handsome features into a mask of spite.

"It is my business," he insisted. "You're my friend. It's my fondest privilege to watch your back. So spill the beans, who had their mouth on your neck?"

"Watch my back, please! You mean stick your nose in my business!" you rolled your eyes.

"Oh coooome oooon!" he whined persistently. "Tell me!"

Isaac pestered you through the halls until you caved to his nagging.

"Fine!" you groaned. "Meet me at our spot. I need to get out of this uniform before I asphyxiate."

Isaac smirked his satisfaction as you parted ways.

Your spot was a willow tree down by the lake had become a secret, convenient, sacred place you and Isaac shared with no one else. You came here separately when you needed to get away from it all, together when you needed to vent about your week. The gnarled, bending bark of the tree played host to a deep hollow that he had lined with tarp a long time ago, forming a secret, weather-proof little compartment. You arrived before he did and peeked inside to make sure there were no squirrels invading your little stash. Satisfied that your goods were untouched, you pulled out the tattered blanket that had held witness to many a deep, long conversation between you and your best friend.

It didn't take long for Isaac to join you, parting willow fronds with a wave of his hand ahead of his arrival, imparting a subtle drama to his entrance that was characteristic of the moody scientist. You lounged on your elbows, watching the stagnant surface of the water that got a bit browner every year. Isaac settled down cross-legged at your side, easy as breathing.

"Isaac, make it pretty," you requested.

He didn't need any more context. Long-standing experience allowed him to understand exactly what you wanted. He extended his right hand palm up and started drawing dirt, leaves, silt and debris from the water in a good fifty-foot radius of where you laid. Gradually, the surface cleared until it was so crystalline you could see the bottom. Tiny fish and tadpoles flitted past, aquatic plants waved and drifted, ghostly and vibrant green under the water. A turtle drifted past, turning in a few circles that made it seem like he was confused about what had happened to all the muck.

"Aw, do you like it better, little guy?" you cooed, even though the turtle definitely wasn't paying attention to you or Isaac.

Isaac chuckled at you, then flung the disgusting, beach-ball sized chunk of waste down the bank. It landed in the water with a splash that sent waves rippling out far enough to disturb the patch of water Isaac had just cleaned for you.

"Better?" he checked.

"Perfect," you sighed.

"Now, cough it up," Isaac demanded. "And take that scarf off, let me see the damage."

"Sure, doc, sure," you acquiesced mockingly. You obliged him, tilting your head back so he could inspect your neck with a drawn, unhappy expression.

"First things first. Who?"

"Cory Hills."

"Ugh, what a loser," Isaac exclaimed in dismay. "Really? Hills?"

"Really. Hills," you affirmed, toying with your scarf. It was too warm out for the accessory, even as night threatened to drag the reticent sun completely beneath the horizon. Its rays hit your eyes, dazzling you for a moment with their brilliance. In the next breath, Isaac waved his hand and the willow tree's delicate branches formed a screen that protected you from the rebellious rays of a sun that didn't want to set yet. You didn't bother thanking him for the gesture. It was what you'd come to expect from him.

"You could do so much better than Hills," Isaac growled. He picked up a stick and poked it into the water, swishing it back and forth with sharp, angry motions while he drew one knee up to his chest and hugged it tight with his free arm.

"Relax, I'm not gonna start dating him," you chuckled. "It was a one-time thing."

"Still... I mean, come on, what happened to standards?" Isaac groaned.

"I mean, standards get loose in the dark," you rationalized, too smug to be ashamed.

"Dark? How far did this go, anyway?" Isaac pressed.

His piercing gaze ran you through like impalement, held you captive like a prisoner of war, demanded details like a military interrogation.

"Easy on the inquisition, Isaac. This whole thing was my business to start with, but how far it did or didn't go is definitely my business," you pointed out.

You could see frustration swirling behind his dark eyes, offense, and strangely...

You sat up, tipped his chin with one finger while you searched his gaze with renewed curiosity. It was Isaac's turn to squirm under the intensity of your examination.

"What?" he finally prompted.

Past the haze of his anger and indignation, Isaac was unmistakably hurt. You had more than enough experience reading people to recognize the little spark of jealousy that backlit your friend's eyes.

"There's more to this than you being offended on my behalf because you think I lowered myself," you accused him. "I felt it when I read your mind earlier, too."

You had long suspected that Isaac's feelings for you ran deeper than he was willing to admit, but you weren't one to coax forth a hidden truth. You knew better, had been burned before. Still, maybe this one was finally close enough to the surface... you wouldn't need to dig it out so much as lightly dust off the top layer of soil.

"You know, I've been alone for a long time," you observed. You left your fingers under his chin, held his gaze captive physically while his pupils dilated wildly in response to the blazing sunset and the stimulus of your touch, your closeness. "Maybe it's time for me to start dating."

"If you start dating Hills, I'm going to shun you," Isaac threatened.

"I won't start dating Hills," you reassured him.

"Oh, I see," Isaac smirked. "He was a bad lay, then."

"Don't fish for more details," you chastened him. "You won't get any."

Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed to catch in his throat. He swallowed hard, his frown intensified for a minute while he thought hard. You waited patiently.

"Take your ring off," he requested abruptly.

Your eyebrows shot up. It had been a long time since Isaac explicitly invited you into his mind.

"Why?" you wondered, toying with the accessory. A protective silver plating over a compressed aluminum core, it was your shield. You liked to think that the knight engraved on its broad face was your protector, your advance guard warding off the overwhelming mental din of the world.

"Take it off and find out," Isaac dared you. His voice was soft, the words uncharacteristically reluctant. If you didn't know better, didn't know how certain Isaac always was of himself, you might have been tempted to think half of him was hoping you would refuse.

"Fine. But you don't get to complain if I see more than you want me to," you warned him, preparing to slide the ring off.

"You can see everything this time," Isaac all but whispered. Despite his surrender, his hand fisted in the blanket beneath you like he was grounding himself, steeling his nerves.

You pulled the prophylactic off, slipped it into your pocket. Isaac's emotions seeped into the atmosphere and you picked them up like a shark catching the scent of blood in the water. His tumultuous mind quivered when you gave it your full attention, its usual stoicism completely discarded. You gasped helplessly at the depth of devotion, the intensity of adoration, the fervor of desire you felt cradled at the forefront of Isaac's conscious thought. You were accustomed to multiplicity within his brain, to formulas and calculations you had no hope of comprehending, to hypotheses, to grand designs and spiteful, witty little jabs. Isaac's intentionality betrayed itself when he fixed his eyes to your lips, parted with surprise. He had thrown everything else away for a long enough to let you see something he had no hope of verbalizing.

You saw yourself through his eyes and you knew how bad he wanted to kiss you. He remembered years and years worth of times when he'd wanted to kiss you, thought about telling you how he felt, thought about taking things further than the bounds of your friendship dictated. You might have suspected little stirrings of tender emotion from him in the past, but never, ever, in a million years could you have imagined the true depth of the obsession gripping the boy you'd only ever thought of as your best friend.

You stared into his soul a little too long and you felt the pulse of panic that gripped him because he was interpreting your shocked inaction as hesitance or something even worse.

This was a terrible idea, he thought glumly.

"Isaac," you sighed.

Your kiss was mercy and your lips wiped every thought from his mind. For a single, pristine instant, you were shrouded in absolute mental silence, alone with your thoughts as completely as if you were still wearing your ring. Isaac almost ceased to exist. You waited patiently for him to return to you, pulled back just long enough to slip the shield back on your finger.

"All these years, and you can still surprise me sometimes," you told him while he dragged in a breath like he'd forgotten to breathe.

Isaac surged forward, gripped by elation, trembling fingers finding their way around your body to pull you close by the lakeside. His kiss was possession and part of you wished you would have let your minds tangle together for a little while longer. You pushed the thought aside, reminded yourself that your ability was a dangerous razor's edge. You couldn't afford a mistake and the abandon with which Isaac devoured you was hardly conducive to caution.

You returned his passion, let him push you onto your back on the blanket. His hands grew steadier with every inch of your permission even as his breath came harder, the straining mechanics of his heart clicking furiously to keep up with the invigorated rush of his blood.

You sighed your pleasure while Isaac indulged years worth of fantasies across your body, deft fingers finding their way beneath your clothes while you paid his explorations back in kind. It felt strange, not in an unpleasant way. Just because you'd never thought of Isaac intimately didn't diminish the sensuality of his pale, cold, smooth skin under your palms. The curls that were so familiar to you already felt like home when you laced your fingers through them to pull him impossibly closer. The taste of him was completely alien, sharp and almost bitter. He tasted nothing like Cory Hills, that much was certain.

Isaac's lips drifted lower, but he stopped to growl unhappily as he was met with the reminder of your hookup.

"I would never leave a mark on you," he commented, tongue lathing soothingly over bruises and bites that were at their most distinct.

"What if I wanted you to?" you teased. You enjoyed the way your words made his breath hitch, the way you could feel him getting harder between your legs at every cue you fed him.

"There's no space for my mark," he grumbled pointedly.

"Don't be jealous," you chided him. "You should have said something sooner."

"How much of you did he get last night?" Isaac demanded, unable to help himself. He needed to doggedly pursue the antagonistic thread until his burning, spiteful curiosity was sated.

You bit your lip, considered your response for a few long seconds. Then you dipped to tickle his ear with your tongue, to warm it with your breath when you spoke.

"Nowhere near as much as you're about to."

Isaac's jealousy flew out the window, violently evicted by the lust your words stirred in his gut.

"How much of you am I about to get?" he pressed slyly. His hands were dissatisfied with merely being under your clothes. He started stripping you slowly, drew back to watch your expression for any sign of protest.

You helped him take your shirt off and that made his mouth fall slightly open in wondering reverence. You tugged at his hems in turn and he didn't dare resist.

"How much of me do you want?" you murmured, letting your voice drop to a sultry hum that he only heard because you were back at his neck again. You sucked hard enough at his pulse to draw a short moan from him, bit around the mark playfully.

"You know I want everything you have to give," Isaac demanded.

You chuckled a little at his imperiousness, how cocky he'd become so quickly.

"I think you might want more than I have," you quipped. It was only half a joke. The intensity of the emotions you'd felt in Isaac's mind intimidated you a little. You gave yourself grace. How could you possibly reciprocate them on a dime?

You also doubted yourself. Could you ever feel that strongly about anything? Even Isaac?

His fingers between your legs and his mouth on your breast distracted you effectively from your depressing line of thought.

"You can have some of me to make up the difference," he mumbled, tongue and teeth playing with your pert nipple while you gasped and moaned at the stimulation. You would typically have been loathe to let him have the last word, but you were too busy palming his erection through his underwear to be bothered by something so petty. The sounds of his pleasure vibrated against your skin, tickled the nipple he had between his teeth, took your breath away with their force. You gripped him harder, determined to hear more of those sounds, to feel them.

"God, you have no idea how long I've been fantasizing about this," he groaned, pressing into your strokes enthusiastically.

In fact, you had a pretty good idea from what he'd shown you, but you held your tongue. You held his in the next breath. Heavenly as his lips felt on your flesh, you demanded them against your own, stole another taste of him while you pulled him free of his underwear. You both tensed with anticipation when you guided him forward, dragged him inside of you with a breathy little cry of ecstasy.

"Isaac!"

His name was a thoughtless moan, his lips an unnecessary gag, his grasp on your body a possession you felt like he would have carved into your very soul if he could figure out how. You moved together under the willow tree like either of you knew what you were doing, the breeze dancing over your bare skin while you threw your arms around him and he surged against you like a wave rushing to slap against the shoreline.

Your name fell from Isaac's lips like a hymn, your legs clamped around his waist like a prayer for more, your heart pounded against his chest like a call to worship. You had never heard his tick so erratically, burn so hot or flare so bright.

Isaac buried himself deep inside you to finish, but you didn't even realize that was what he'd done until after he pulled out. You narrowed your eyes at him, concerns and alarm apparent in your features. He just laughed breathlessly and kissed you again, comfortingly this time.

"Relax, I got you," he murmured in assurance. "Here."

His right index finger twitched with subtle, exquisite control and you felt something strange stir inside you. In a queer display of warped tenderness, affection offered as servitude, Isaac pulled his spend from your body with his ability. You burst out laughing while he smiled down at you, way too pleased with himself.

"Isaac, that's gross! Get rid of that!" you snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth as you met his shining eyes.

"What, don't you want to taste?" he teased. Even as the words left his mouth, he flung the little alabaster orb away toward the setting sun.

"Ew!"

Despite your protests, there was something tantalizing to his proposal. You slipped the ring off your finger just long enough to project an image into his mind. Isaac shuddered with desire, let his eyes slide shut while he savored the thought of you with his cock shoved down your throat, his orgasm pulsing into your waiting, willing mouth.

"Maybe next time," he prompted hopefully.

"Maybe next time," you assured him.

Isaac's entire brain lit up like a christmas tree at the thought that there would be a next time. In the next thought, you realized he wasn't finished with you yet.

What a great idea, you projected, spilling your eagerness directly into his mind while you laid back and parted your legs wide for him.

Isaac went down onto his belly with a grin, looking up to catch your gaze just before his face disappeared between your thighs.

"Leave the ring off," he requested. "Let me feel firsthand if I'm doing a good job or not."

"You look like something exploded in your face," you noted casually.

Isaac whirled around to bear down over you, menace rolling off him in waves. You couldn't see his eyes past his manufacturing goggles. If you didn't know him so well, it would have been a frightening spectacle. As it was, you knew better than to think for a moment that he would hurt you.

"It did!" he growled. He tore his gloves off and hurled them to the floor, came out from behind his goggles. The sight of the clean patches around his eyes, sharply contrasted with the black marks covering the rest of his face, made you giggle a little. You stifled the sound behind your hand, but not soon enough to appease Isaac. He fixed you with an intense scowl.

"Is something about that funny?!" he demanded.

He ripped open his singed lab coat, shrugged out of it in one fluid, aggressive movement. Your eyebrows shot up at the sudden expanse of his torso, bared in the blink of an eye. You bit your lip while he glared at you, broke eye contact with him so your gaze could rake hungrily over his long, lean figure. Isaac might have been the biggest nerd at Nevermore, but he had a little more definition in his stringy muscles than you would have given him credit for if you never saw him naked.

It made sense when you thought about it. He was always working and even with the benefit of telekinesis, his projects could get fairly physical.

"My eyes are up here!" Isaac snapped, indignant hands posted on his bony hips like sentries while you longingly eyed the grooves trailing down past his belt. The smooth mechanical motion of his heart seemed especially out of place whenever you looked at him with a lustful perspective. The jarring, unnatural lack of flesh over its polished chassis wasn't a turn-off, but it was always shocking enough to bring you back down to reality from the haze your fantasies.

"I'm sorry," you sighed. "Look, it's not funny that you got blown up, I promise. But..."

You snickered again when you met his eyes.

"Take a look in the mirror, Isaac," you urged him. "You look like a reverse raccoon."

Isaac grumbled, but turned around regardless. He scowled at his reflection, wiping ineffectively at the black streaks.

"Come here, I'll help," you offered.

"You'll help," Isaac scoffed. "Unless you have any idea how to stabilize the formula I'm working on-"

"Oh come on, Isaac, you know science is my worst subject," you groaned. "Come here, I'm serious. I can help in other ways..."

The trailing conclusion of your sentence was intentionally tantalizing. It was Isaac's turn to quirk an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. You resisted the urge to giggle at the sight with every ounce of discipline you had. Isaac was rendered terribly comical by the mask-like state of his dishevelment. You tapped one index finger to your lips and beckoned him coyly with the other. He came, stalking up with agitation still vibrating under his skin. Isaac stepped right up to the edge of your bed, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for you to clarify the role you intended to play.

You rolled onto your back and reached out, extended your arm until your fingertips just barely brushed his skin. You watched his eyes follow the path of your hand as you traced a slow line down his abdomen, hooked a single finger behind his belt and tugged gently. You were suggesting his advance, not quite requesting it, certainly not demanding it. Isaac's eyes followed the line of your arm. By the time they met yours, they were shining with a savage light you'd never seen there before. It sent a shiver down your spine comprised of equal parts desire and anxiety.

"You don't want to help me that way," Isaac warned you. Despite his words, his voice was so low you had to strain to hear it. You could see the front of his pants tightening. The sight made your breath hitch. You tugged again, but he stood his ground. "Not right now."

"I always want to help you that way," you insisted sweetly.

"I'm riled up and fucking pissed right now," Isaac countered harshly. "It'll be too rough."

You gasped when he seized your wrist, grip bruising. You understood at once. He wanted you to have a taste of the violence you were asking for. He wanted you to know what you would be in for if you didn't back down. A thrill shot through you that went straight to your burning, quivering core. Far from deterrence, Isaac's wrath only served to arouse you further.

"What, worried you'll break me?" you managed.

You responded to his crushing grip by slipping the other three fingers past his waistband and closing your fist. His sharp inhalation when you pulled could either have been surprise or delight. This time, he caved to your persistence by an inch, bent one knee and rested it on the bed while he stayed standing.

"I'm not in the mood to hold back," Isaac rasped. You licked your lips, squirmed under the intensity of his gaze while your nipples perked and tingles raced up and down your skin leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

"Don't hold back, then," you sighed. "I can take it."

The savage light behind Isaac's eyes intensified, sharpened to a razor point by lust. You could feel the heat coursing under his skin past the fingers you had under his waistband. Near your wrist, you felt something stir, hard as steel under fabric. Isaac released you, slapped your hand away and started unbuckling his belt.

"Strip," he ordered tersely.

Excitement raced through you, stopped in your gut to collect in a heavy ball before it exploded again and sent anticipation screaming through your sinews as you hastily complied with his command. Isaac was undressed while you were still in your underwear and to your dismay, he stopped you by grabbing a handful of your hair. You yelped while he pulled you closer abruptly, slapped your cheek with his rock-hard length while you whined, half in complaint, half in commendation.

God, why was it so hot when he was rough with you?

"Too slow," he tsked.

"Not fair, you were already half-"

"Shh, shh, open that smart mouth wider for me," Isaac instructed. "Just a quick test, huh? Let's see if you can really take it as well as you think you can."

A shudder of provocation ripped through you and and your mouth fell open obediently. Isaac thrust inside like he owned it, like the offering you made him was something he was entitled to. The sounds of his pleasure were coarse, loud groans and strained grunts as he held your head in place with both hands while he fucked your face. You closed your eyes tight against the reflexive tears stinging them, struggled to catch a breath past the merciless pace he set. Isaac cursed and moaned while your hands flew to his thighs, gripped him for support without daring to push him back. As desperately as you needed to breathe, as selfish as he was being with his invasion of your throat, you resisted the urge to beg him for moderation.

After all, you'd told him you could take it.

You choked on the tempo of Isaac's rage, gagged every time his tip impacted the back of your throat. You swallowed a few times, recollected your resolve even if your composure was unsalvageable at this point. The taste of him was overwhelming, filling your mouth unbearably while he rutted wildly, carving his way deeper with every beastly thrust. No matter how much of him you tasted, you always craved more. You were so turned on it was almost painful, slick pooling in your underwear while you rubbed your thighs together, desperate for relief. You wondered with dismay if Isaac was planning to cum down your throat. Despite the sick thrill that fluttered through you at the thought, your body spasmed with grief at the idea that you might not get to feel him inside you this time.

God, if Isaac felt this unhinged in your mouth, restraining himself just enough to avoid your teeth, what would he do between your legs?

Just when you thought you might actually black out from the lack of oxygen and the crippling lust causing your dripping cunt to squeeze tight every few seconds, Isaac pulled free of your mouth with an obscene, watery pop.

"Turn, turn!" he snapped, rough hands guiding your body as you scrambled to oblige.

You heard fabric tearing, felt the sting around your hips as Isaac ripped your panties off and covered your body with his. His arms caged you, one around your chest, one palm flat against your stomach while he undid the clasp of your bra with his teeth.

With his fucking teeth.

You screamed when he surged into you, bottomed out in one vicious thrust. Your shrieks only grew louder when his teeth sank into your shoulder while he growled his abandon against skin it felt like he was piercing it with the force of his bites. You were right to assume that Isaac was only warming up when he ravaged your throat. The insane force of his cock slamming into you made it impossible for you to shut up, shouting insensibly as you shook in his inescapable hold. Isaac's hands were restive, bruising on your flesh as they roamed with a manic hunger that put the most depraved heights of your lust to shame.

Isaac hadn't lied when he promised not to hold back. You sobbed a little, fists clenched in the sheets as you desperately fought to hold up under the onslaught of his incensed assault. He was hurting you, teeth marking your body, fingers tearing at soft flesh, hips slamming against your ass at the most brutal pace humanly possible while you arched and cried beneath him helplessly.

Fuck, but it hurt so good.

You'd never thought of yourself as masochistic before, but you couldn't deny the willingness of your degradation, the degenerate depth of your submission as Isaac rampaged over your body. Unbelievably, he shifted the angle of your frenzied tryst and found a deeper place inside you to abuse, took everything you had to give him and then demanded more without a shred of regard for whether he was giving you any pleasure in return for the euphoria he received. Despite his selfishness, or perhaps because of it, you came undone beneath him with a suddenness and intensity you'd never experienced before in your life.

You tried to bury your face in the sheets to muffle the screams of climax that surely would have echoed throughout all of Nevermore. Isaac didn't let you. He yanked your head back, sank his teeth into your neck and moaned his mindless rapture while he went even harder, pulled your thigh a little higher while he carved a depth inside your poor, aching, pulsing cunt that couldn't possibly have been natural.

Isaac fucked you through your high with single-minded intent, battered your prone form until you couldn't even tell whether you had finished cumming or not. You couldn't stop shrieking his name, couldn't stop shaking, couldn't catch a breath past the suffocating ecstasy and the overwhelming pain and the way every single nerve ending in your body was either singing or screaming under the pressure of Isaac's persistence. Bliss and agony made for strange bedfellows, intoxicating and excruciating at once.

Then without warning, it was Isaac's turn to scream, nearly driven feral by the time he surrendered to his own orgasm. You felt him throbbing inside you, clenched around him with every last bit of strength you had, determined to milk him completely before he could even think of pulling out. In the last frenetic seconds of your rage-driven sexual catastrophe, his hand covered yours with aching intimacy. When his shouts died down, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and collapsed atop you to pin you against the bed in a sweaty, exhausted embrace.

Slowly, you caught your breath and your pounding heart managed to settle back into something approaching its regular rhythm. Behind you, Isaac stirred, still panting, sweat dripping down his face so profusely from his exertions that the soot from the earlier explosion was running like over-applied mascara in the wake of a tragedy. He pressed his lips to your pulse, trailed kisses lazily down your spine and then back up again.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, voice shaking harder than your taut muscles. The hand that wasn't holding yours caressed your body, soothing in the wake of his furious fervor.

You nodded. You didn't trust your voice yet.

"You're sure?" he pressed. He rolled you over gently and hovered over you, inspecting you critically like he didn't believe you. With a little frown, his thumb cleaned tears from the corners of your glistening eyes.

"I'm fine," you assured him, voice breaking a little from the strain you'd put on it during your mad session of violent lovemaking.

"Promise?" he murmured. His lips returned to your neck to soothe the vivid marks left in the wake of his animalistic passions.

"Isaac, that was fucking amazing," you sighed, forcing arms that felt like overcooked noodles to wind around his body as he lathered you with affection that felt suspiciously apologetic.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever cum so hard in my life," you gushed, running your nails gently down his back while his palms smoothed over your sore thighs.

"Good," Isaac purred, his tone and expression both saturated with satisfaction. "I can get you some water, if you want."

"Maybe in a minute," you smiled. "Can you just keep... mm, that massage feels so good."

"Anything you want," he assured you.

"How about you? Are you okay?" you checked. You wiped his face with the corner of your blanket, cleaning the worst of the sweat and soot from his handsome features.

Isaac laughed at you outright.

"Best I've ever been," he promised. "I really, really fucking needed that. Thank you."

He offered you a kiss that overflowed with gratitude and weary tenderness.

"Me too, I think," you realized. "We should do it again sometime."

"I won't recover from this for at least a week," Isaac threatened.

"Thank god," you groaned. "I didn't mean, like, soon, you know. If you need a week, I need at least two."

"So I did hurt you," he scowled.

"Well sure, but... how sick is it that I really fucking enjoyed it?" you sighed unabashedly.

"I don't think that's sick," Isaac countered cheekily.

"No?"

"No. I think it's hot."

You often found yourself drifting too far into fantasy. Once again, you shook yourself. Centaurs. Right. You already knew enough to pass your exam, but you needed to stay enough in the moment to keep nodding along with what Isaac was explaining to you. You hummed your understanding, focused on his voice to distract yourself from the sensuous quality with which his long, graceful fingers leafed through your assignment. His voice might have been a better anchor, a heftier tool to moor you to reality, if it wasn't so breathy, every word chosen so intentionally, that impressive vocabulary of his on full display.

God, you did so adore a man with a large vocabulary, even more so if he knew how to use it well.

"Right, so the digestive tract has... what? Why the look?"

You started giggling helplessly because while Isaac was talking, you zoned out incredibly hard, lost your awareness in the lush mass of his curls and his bottomless obsidian eyes. You weren't about to admit that to him. The more time you spent together, the more you began to suspect that your initial assessment was inaccurate. Isaac wasn't alone because his peers shunned him, because they fled in fear of his smoldering shadows or his quiet, roiling storms. Isaac was alone completely by preference, entirely by election. And yet, something about you called him to your company.

"No, I was just thinking about this time I had a horse riding mishap," you chuckled, covering deftly with a story loosely connected to the material you were learning about. You patted yourself on the back mentally for the quick save. "I'm sorry, go on."

"Horse riding mishap?" Isaac demanded. "Hold on, you can't just gloss over something like that. What's the story?"

"What? No, it's humiliating!" you gasped theatrically. It wasn't that bad, actually, but you were going to make him work for this story if he wanted to hear it. At least a little, at any rate.

"Aw, come on, it can't have been that bad," Isaac persisted. "You know I won't judge."

"Well, your patience and forbearance thus far have been extraordinary," you allowed him. "Fine then. It wasn't really all that exciting, though. My uncle has a ranch, so I've been riding horses since I was young. Once, when I was like, ten, a horse threw me- and! I swear to god! That it did this on purpose! It threw me into a duck pond!"

"On purpose?" Isaac grinned. "That doesn't sound very likely."

"That horse hated me!" you insisted. "And it was smart enough to know better than to really hurt me... but it didn't want me riding it anymore, I can tell you that much."

"Mm, sounds like an ungrateful, illogical beast," Isaac mused dreamily. His gaze was a little glossy, far away as if his imagination had run away with him. "I'm just saying, if I was lucky enough to have you riding me, I wouldn't buck you off."

"Right, right. Wait, what?!"

You nodded along automatically, then backtracked after you processed the words. Isaac snapped back to reality with a little jolt, a deep blush coloring his cheeks as his eyes focused in on yours again.

"What?!" he gaped. "No, no, I just meant- Well, I, um..."

You put your hands up, shushed him hastily. This was good, this was perfect. This was what you had been waiting for, you could feel it. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the chance to walk it back. You grabbed the verbal slip with both hands, determined to spin it out for all it was worth.

"Isaac... do you want me to ride you?" you asked coyly, batting your lashes at him with all the seduction you could muster on a moment's notice.

You never thought you would hear a nervous laugh from Isaac Night, but there it was. The sound of his anxiety rang out in your dorm room, high, keening, bordering on manic.

"What?! No! No, I wouldn't- I would never- How could- to even... suggest..."

Isaac stammered, stuttered, then finally cleared his throat. He coughed a few times, pretended to go through your homework while he struggled to regain his composure. Your blithe phrase had shattered it like a glass screen. You watched, amused while he fanned himself with the papers and stumbled over his words.

"I mean, not if... unless you like... wanted to?"

Isaac was all but hiding behind your homework. You pulled the papers down with a finger, met his eyes again with a grin that you hoped wasn't too terribly lecherous.

"If I wanted to, would you let me mount you?" you purred.

"If you wanted to?" Isaac repeated carefully. "Very hypothetical."

"Sure. Hypothetical is the safest route," you allowed him. "So hypothetically. Let's say... I don't know. Maybe I missed riding. Missed the feeling of... a strong, hot, panting stud between my legs..."

Isaac was so flustered you almost felt sorry for a minute. His teeth latched onto his lower lip, cheeks crimson, curls falling in his face. The picture you painted was exciting you too, tempting you to back down with the lewdness of your provocation. Still, you committed to your seduction resolutely. You took comfort in the idea that this scenario was absurd enough that you could always write it off as pure teasing if he didn't rise to your bait.

"I, uh... can't claim to know that much about it," Isaac admitted. "Horseback riding, that is! I've, um... I've never tried it, you see. That is to say, just that... I never really got the chance, I guess."

Your eyebrows shot up at the double entendre shining through in his admission. Intrigue gripped you, forced you to wonder if he was talking about a position, or the entirety of the act?

"Oh come on, you've got... you have the form for it," you pressed, sticking to your innuendo to be on the safe side. "You've never done it?"

"Hey now, not everyone's uncle owns a ranch," Isaac protested defensively.

Your head was honestly spinning. You weren't sure if you were talking about sex or horses anymore and you didn't dare resort to bluntness to settle the matter. Instead, you cleared your throat, straightened your homework to give yourself an excuse to breathe and look away from Isaac. Not that you wanted to, but you'd never seen him so out of his element before. The sight was honestly turning you on way more than was conducive to keeping a level head and a clever conversation.

"Well, do you want to try it?" you asked coyly. "Riding."

"Who doesn't?" Isaac sighed with a roll of his eyes. "But... like you said, horses will throw you if you're not careful. Easy to get hurt if you don't know what you're doing."

There was the cocksure, condescending, quippy Isaac Night you were used to. Happy as you were to see him again, you immediately realized that you kind of missed his sheepish, reticent, flushing counterpart.

"You're supposed to be the horse in this analogy, remember?" you reminded him gently. "And you already promised not to throw me."

You caught his gaze again, caught the amused smile in his eyes at your quick response.

"Well, it's not as if the horse has nothing to worry about," Isaac pointed out astutely. "Spurs seem painful, for one. And I'm not sure how I would feel about a bit in my mouth, either."

"Hm, good thing I'm a gentle rider," you purred. "Would you believe it, I've even gone bareback before."

Isaac's breath caught in his throat again. He broke your intense gaze, fixed his eyes to his ring while he twisted it nervously around and around his little finger. You decided he needed a little push. He liked banter too much. If you let him have his way, you would talk your way around sex until one or both of you blacked out from sheer desire.

"Sounds hard," Isaac murmured.

You leaned in closer while he inspected his signet ring like it was something he'd never seen before in his life, like he was wondering how it had snuck onto his finger. By the time he looked up, you were close enough for a kiss, but still holding back, still waiting patiently.

"Is it hard?" you countered, matching his low tone, though your voice had no hope of going that deep.

"It's... honestly, so much harder than it should be," he replied, the equestrian thread of your banter hopelessly lost.

The impossibly sultry tenor of Isaac's nervousness was almost more enticing than the red pulsing under his cheeks that now seemed a permanent feature. Would your tutor ever go back to his usually pallid shade? You found you didn't mind his face on the ruddy side, especially not when it was owed to your bold advances. Isaac still maintained enough grace under pressure to cope, but his composure was suffering just enough to show you a few cracks, a little vulnerability, the tiniest insecurities.

Isaac's mild shyness was riling you up unbearably, egging you on far past the point when you probably would have backed down otherwise.

"Why don't you let me help you with that?" you all but purred. You got even closer to him, let your hands rest on his knees while your cheek brushed against his. The heat of his face touching yours and the way his legs parted for you, easily, reflexively, had you biting your lip.

"Hold on," Isaac protested half-heartedly, barely loud enough to qualify as a whisper. "Hold on, I'd be a bad tutor if I let you get distracted by-"

You couldn't wait anymore. You interrupted him with a kiss that escalated incredibly quickly. Before you knew it, your hands were thrust deep into his hair and his were tugging your hips, urging you onto his lap. Isaac kissed you back like he'd been fantasizing about it for as long as you had. At this point, you didn't put it past him. You felt his erection, stiff and straining between your legs under both your clothes and you hummed your satisfaction while your tongue played with his. When you pulled back, Isaac was breathing hard, hair disheveled, eyes bright and fixed raptly to yours.

"I know the subject matter," you confessed. "I just wanted to get you alone."

Isaac's eyes darted around in a quick zig-zag while he processed your admission.

"I kind of wondered when you already knew so many of the technical terms," Isaac noted.

If you let him, he would keep you talking all night. You fixed your lips to his again, ground against his lap and drank the helpless little whimpers you coaxed from him with the action. With all your most sordid, forbidden fantasies coming to life beneath you, it was your turn to feel your cheeks getting hot. You whimpered right back as the sensation of his clothed arousal rubbing against yours sent sparks of desire and pleasure racing together through your body.

You wondered if you were going too far too fast when you started undressing Isaac, but he shrugged out of his blazer cooperatively, shivered when your palms met bare skin. You caressed his chest, sighed your ecstasy as you gripped his shoulders, swept your hands down the length of his leanly muscled arms until you reached his wrists. Your journey was pure indulgence and Isaac didn't seem to mind. His fingers mirrored your quest for nudity. While you were distracted by exploring the planes of the body you'd been longing to see uncovered for so long, Isaac relieved you of nearly everything you were wearing.

Isaac drew back long enough to look at you with lust burning behind his eyes, parting his lips, now pink from being kissed. His eyes raked over your figure covetously and his hips jerked up against you. The movement felt involuntary, seemed to surprise even Isaac, but the way it thrust the bulge of his erection against the apex of your thighs left you mewling. You might have been embarrassed by the vulnerable, high sounds he was forcing out of you, if you didn't feel him get even harder in response to them. Isaac repeated the motion, slower this time, controlled and intentional. Your hands finally made their way back up to his shoulders, held on to stabilize yourself as he kept rutting between your legs, eyes glued to your face while he drank in every reaction he elicited from you.

You hated to break the rhythm he was finding, but if he made you any wetter you were going to slide off his lap entirely. When you stood, Isaac seemed devastated for a minute, only for his disappointment to vanish when you urged him up as well. It was a short trip from your desk to your bed and your fingers undid his trousers before you guided him there. You wanted to giggle at the little bouncing motion Isaac was subjected to when you shoved him down on his back, but he hastily kicked his pants off the rest of the way and the sight of him completely naked on your bed killed your amusement. You moaned instead, slipped out of your soaked panties and surged forward to tangle your body with his.

Isaac's fingers between your legs felt sublime, amazing. You rewarded him with high gasps and sultry little moans that he drank down like wine. His lips against yours felt frenzied, rushed. You weren't having it.

"Whoa, boy," you laughed playfully at his ear. "Settle down for me, stud."

Isaac moaned heatedly against your neck, but he did comply. He slowed, even if he didn't relax at all. The tension coiling through every muscle in his body was delectable and you wished you could run your hands over every taut inch he had to offer.

And why not, you wondered. Since you finally had him here just the way you wanted him...

"So eager," you tsked at his ear. "I'm flattered, but let me feel you, Isaac."

"You can do absolutely anything you want with me," Isaac assured you, a little quiver lacing his voice that threatened to break it. "Just please, please don't stop now!"

You took your fill of his body hungrily while his long fingers soothed the desperate ache between your legs long enough to stave off the overwhelming grip of carnality. Your mouth left his to blaze a wet trail down his left arm, licking over veins, teeth grazing over his bicep, lips sucking sensuously at the inseam of his elbow. Isaac's impatience reminded you unironically of a horse's. The way his body strained under yours, taut muscles drawn tight, ready to snap into movement at any minute. Your hands soothed down his sides, around his hips, massaged his shaking thighs, encouraging him to hold steady for you just a while longer. Just like the horses you used to ride, Isaac was ready to burst into motion at any second, but your anticipation of his release was extraordinary, completely unlike anything you'd ever felt preparing to ride an animal.

Your open-mouthed kisses dipped lower and lower, curved around his ribs, ticked his heaving navel, traced the subtle lines of his pelvis. Isaac held his breath as you moved down, leaned up on his elbows to watch, enraptured. He groaned when you skipped past his yearning cock to tease the sensitive insides of his thighs instead. He bucked a little and you lightly smacked his hip on reflex. The sharp crack of flesh against flesh startled him, if his harsh intake of breath was any indication, but the way his stiff member twitched made you suspect he enjoyed it.

"Still, still for me," you teased him, lathing your tongue so high he was almost hyperventilating from the hope that you would put your mouth on his arousal. "And breathe, stud."

"Fuck, I like it when you call me that!" Isaac admitted. His fingers gripped your sheets, but he did as you told him, steadied his breath obediently.

"Good, that's good," you praised him. "That earns you a treat..."

Isaac's steady inhalations were ruined when you ran your tongue up the underside of his shaft, wrapped your lips around his throbbing tip. He gave a deep moan, hips yearning up toward your mouth in a motion that was too smooth to be a thrust, too restrained to qualify as rutting. Isaac held himself back with exquisite control and you hummed your approval around his cock while you took him deeper.

Isaac was panting mindlessly by the time your lips made their way back to his. You were still stroking his length with one hand, working his spit-slicked erection with long, loose, twisting strokes.

"You forgot to breathe again," you chided him gently. Your lips pecked his, waiting for his canting inhalations to even out again. He forced them into something resembling a steady rise and fall. The way he was putty in your hands was enough to make you feel high.

"I know I said I would be gentle," you murmured at his ear. You tightened your grip on his cock, wrecked the careful measure of his breaths with your lips as you milked a series of helpless, degenerate moans from your tutor. "... but I can tell you've never been ridden before, stud. I'm gonna have to break you in properly."

Isaac thrust his enthusiasm into the palm of your hand, ran his hands greedily over your body while you moved to straddle him. You settled high, the slick of your arousal smearing obscenely over his stomach. You stroked him generously a few more times, then relinquished your grip on his cock so you could guide his hands firmly to your hips.

"Like this."

Isaac watched reverently, entranced while you moved your hips over his stomach, rubbed your pulsing, aching cunt hard against his skin for relief. You held back your moans, hands racing up your own body as you emulated the sensual motion that you would reward him with if he could be patient. You were only teasing him, but he played along happily, fingers tightening on your flesh enough to guide your rhythm.

"Good," you purred, caressing his wrists to let him know you liked it. "Then you already know I won't be doing all the work, stud. Now if you feel this..."

You dug your heels gently into his thighs, just enough for him to feel it.

"... you go faster. Understand?"

Isaac nodded hard, swallowed desperately, transfixed by the undulation of your body over his.

"If I swat you..."

A light slap to the side of his hip drew a hiss from him, but he was still nodding along, still spellbound by your sensual splendor.

"... you slow down again."

As fun as it was to keep riling him up, to keep making him wait for what he wanted, you were desperate to feel Isaac filling you. You slid lower, heard him stop breathing again when you dragged his length through your soaked folds. He brushed your clit and you couldn't hold back a moan of anticipation.

You and Isaac moaned in concert when you took him inside, slid down to encase him nearly to the base on your first try. He was big enough that you couldn't quite take him all the way without swaying your hips, wiggling him back and forth through your cunt as you settled down to mount him fully. Your moans grew marginally higher when he hit your backmost reaches. Isaac's deepened impossibly as his fingers dug into your hips thoughtlessly.

You gave yourself a moment to adjust to the wide stretch of him, the depth he carved into your body that was breathtaking, almost painful. You were both sent straight to elysium when you started moving, slowly at first while your thighs shook with pleasure and your hands braced on his chest. Your eyes wanted to flutter shut of their own accord, but you forced them to stay open so you could watch the devastation playing out over Isaac's stricken features. You'd never seen a man look so gone, eyes glazed over, mouth open wide, hair falling wildly over his face. He kept his gaze glued to your pussy while it swallowed and released his cock over and over again. The languid, easy pace you set covered every inch of him in your slick, matted the mess of dark curls at his base with wetness that compounded with every stroke.

You broke your posture just for a minute so you could lean down and ravage his lips again. Isaac met your vigor with his own and lifted his hips subtly to compensate for the distracted stutter in your rhythm. You pressed your heels into his thighs just to see what would happen, whimpered your delight into his mouth when his thrusts sharpened at once.

God, of course he was a quick learner.

Isaac seemed like he wanted to take over, but you were enjoying his submission too much to let it go so easily. You reared again, swatted his side as you took over. Isaac whined his disappointment, but settled anyway. You rewarded him with flesh, pulled his hands up to your breasts while you danced slowly over his lap. You sped up gradually, indulging your own wild, ravenous lust as every impact of his head against your cervix, every excruciating drag of his shaft across your convulsing walls hoisted you higher. Your moans grew louder, control slipping from your fingers like a halter as you leaned back far enough to force his cock to press perfectly into your sweet spot with every thrust. You braced your palms on his thighs, threw your body back again and again to slam your hips into his.

Isaac's moans were as rabid as yours, his nails leaving trails over your skin as his hands devoured your heaving form and his hips snapped up against yours on raw instinct. The faster you moved, the harder your body ground against his, the more unhinged his low, resonant vocalizations became. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. Isaac pushed you over when he moaned your name, begged for your attention past the haze of your hedonic abandon.

"Fuck, I can't... gonna cum, need you to slow down!" he panted, hands frantic on your body as he plead for reprieve.

Your nails dug into his thighs while you shook and clenched tight around his cock, going even faster for a few dazzling, dopamine-fueled seconds while you came for him. Isaac watched, enthralled once he realized what was happening. His hands on your body soothed rather than instigated, guided you gently through the throes of your climax until your rhythm faltered and you sighed your relief to your ceiling.

"That was good!" you panted. You leaned forward again, kissed him exuberantly and dug your heels in hard. "Now you! Fuck, lemme feel you cum for me!"

You didn't let him breathe past the intensity of your lips on his. You devoured the keening melody of his orgasm like you needed it more than air, like your tongue in his mouth could sustain you for the rest of your life if he let you keep it there. It was Isaac's turn to tremble, to quake beneath you as the power drained from his thrusts along with his spend, leaving him heaving beneath you. You squeezed your legs around his waist one last time, savoring the way his muscles relaxed against yours, the tension finally dissipated in the wake of your mutual release.

"God, I fucking missed riding," you groaned against his chest, playing with his hair while he caught his breath at last.

"You can ride me anytime you get the urge," Isaac murmured playfully. His hands played up and down your back, tracing the groove of your spine, fingertips counting vertebrae while you massaged his scalp.

"Well, staying in practice is important," you mused humorously. "We should really do it regularly... you have to maintain core and leg strength to be any good at it, you know."

You could tell Isaac had something clever to say, but you craved his lips too much to let him get it out. He sighed his surrender, still pliant beneath you, still willing to let you have your way with him while your mouth ravished his.

Isaac's desperation was a delicacy you would have been all too happy to savor raw and uncensored, but his fumbling hands were doing neither of you any favors. More to the point, you had let him steal as much control from you as you were willing to part with. You were sated for the time being, the after-tremors of your climax rippling pleasantly across your body. You were ready to take the reigns back from him and he seemed ready to surrender them. He shook subtly with unsatisfied desire, grappled with buttons and clasps like they were the forces of evil incarnate sent to personally torment him.

"Ugh, stop!" you sighed, allowing condescension to rule your tone even as he defeated his belt buckle. You swatted his hands aside, seized him by the hips and shoved his back against the greenhouse wall. The glass shook with the force of his impact while he grumbled his discontent.

"You said you would return the favor," Isaac panted, his scowl softening into something closer to a pout.

"And I will," you reassured him. "Soon enough."

A flick of your fingers sent his hands flying up over his head, wrists crossed. He flexed experimentally against the hold of your telekinesis, but didn't fight its grip or retaliate with his own ability. You took his concession as approval and forged ahead.

"Your tongue felt so good inside me," you sighed, rubbing your palm against his straining erection while he watched with wide eyes and breath that stuttered and heaved past parted lips. "Even better than your fingers. So don't worry..."

You kept massaging his bulge with one hand while the fingers of your other popped open a button, teased him with a torturously slow drag of a zipper. He watched you, wide-eyed as though there was a miracle unfolding at his feet instead of a blowjob.

"Just be good for me," you purred, holding his stricken gaze while you freed his cock from layers of fabric. "And I'll take care of you, too."

Isaac was too transfixed to even moan and you hadn't even started yet. Had he even heard a word you'd said? You were forced to wonder while you stroked him light and slow, savoring the sensation of soft skin sliding over the strenuous hardness beneath. Your mouth watered and fresh arousal fluttered in your groin. It was a battle to take your time, to resist the urge to ravage Isaac the way he had you.

Control wasn't about roughness. It was about finesse and discipline.

"I'll be good," he breathed, the words so low you almost didn't hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

"Good means you'll do anything I tell you to," you gloated, squeezing him a little harder with every pass of your hand over his fevered length. You glanced up one more time to see his head tipped back against the glass, eyes closed while he trembled under your ministrations. You watched with glee, listening raptly while his voice cracked and the force of his desire smothered every trace of his pride.

"I'll do anything you t-tell me," he affirmed, the words a hoarse, reverent rasp. "Just don't stop touching me that way."

You thought breaking him in class was euphoria, but this surrender was a hundred times better than your orgasm.

"Good boy," you hummed seductively. "Now open your eyes and watch."

Isaac's immediate, eager obedience made you want to scream, but you swallowed your elation and flicked your tongue out to tease his slit. His hips jerked reflexively, earning him a harsh tsk and a sharp slap. Your firm hand left him panting, quivering in your grip while you shook your head in disapproval.

"I didn't give you permission to move," you scolded him, halting your attentions. Your power had dissipated from around his wrists, but he didn't dare move his hands from where you'd pinned them above his head. "Apologize."

"Fuck! I'm sorry, please!" he whimpered through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to!"

"You won't move again until I tell you to."

"I won't! God, please don't stop!" Isaac moaned.

You bit your lip, shaking with desire at the spectacle of his willing subjugation. You didn't know if you had the strength of will to keep up appearances long enough to finish what you'd started.

"I won't stop," you assured him, resuming your attentions. He released the breath he'd been holding in a rushed, stuttering gasp, his frame shaking with the effort of holding himself back from rutting into your touch. "Not when you're being so, so good for me..."

The mindless sounds Isaac made in response to the praise were unhinged and they shot straight down between your legs. When you wrapped your lips around his head, he cried out like you'd bit him, curses escaping him that sounded stark, too loud in the open air and the darkness shrouding you. You kept stroking his shaft, a long, generous massage while you tongued his leaking slit and swirled languid circles around his sensitive tip. You could feel his pulse thrumming through prominent veins, vibrating into your mouth. You hummed in satisfaction, dug your nails into his hip to help hold him back from thrusting down your throat, to remind him that he didn't have the permission he needed for such an act. You could tell he was thinking about it and he confirmed your suspicions mere seconds later when the incomprehensible stream of curses, moans and pants he issued solidified into a salacious, enticing narrative.

"... fucking hot, s-so wet, shit, let me- Nng! God I wanna fuck you, please, please, just let me-"

Isaac broke off, surrendering to a high, keening string of gasped whimpers when you took him a little deeper. You bobbed on his length, amused by the way he acted like you were torturing him instead of pleasuring him by taking him in halfway. The way he throbbed between your lips and slid over your tongue was driving you crazy. All you could think about was how incredible it would feel if you did let him fuck you the way he was begging to.

"Please... please..." he managed, all but choking on his desperation.

You pulled your mouth off him with a wet pop, tongue darting out to sever the sticky string of saliva trailing between your mouth and his yearning cock. You rose, eliciting a deep groan of disappointment from him even as your body slid flush against his and your hand kept working up and down his length. The slather of spit made it easy, every stroke a twist that rewarded his submission from base to tip with carnal satisfaction.

"You don't even know what you're begging for anymore," you noted. Your free hand tangled in his hair to demand his vacant, hungry stare. "Such a good little whore."

Isaac's moan was feral, degenerate, thoughtless while he leaned into every aspect of your touch like there was some warped, perverse freedom in letting you have your way with his body. Maybe there was. His mouth fell open in anticipation when yours approached, but you didn't kiss him again. Your tongue flicked out to caress his lips from a distance, savoring the subtle flavor of his heavy, bated breaths.

"Come on, then," you prompted, grip tightening on his cock and in his hair simultaneously. You couldn't tell if the noise he made was a moan of pleasure or a groan of pain. "Be good and tell me what you want. Maybe I'll think about letting you have it."

Isaac's eyes slid shut while he shuddered with depraved bliss.

"All I want is to- fuck, please let me put it in you!" he sighed. "Please, I want to- want to be good for you... please just let me fuck you..."

You shivered with ecstasy, with the rush of power and the overwhelming crush of desire. Cocky, confident, quiet, withdrawn Isaac Night, the smartest boy at Nevermore, the biggest prick you'd ever met in your life and here he was on his knees for you. You rewarded him with a kiss, harsh as a slap, deep as a stab wound, fiery as arson.

"Fuck, good boy!" you all but growled into his mouth.

You turned and dragged him with you, reversing your positions against the greenhouse. You hiked one leg up around his waist, guided his hands to your thighs while his lips glued themselves to your pulse like worship.

"Up!" you demanded, hoisting yourself higher by grabbing his shoulders at the the same time as he lifted you off the ground. You arched between him and the glass while he panted, anticipation tensing every muscle in his body as you wrapped your fingers around his cock and dragged its head through your slick folds, teasing even on the verge of penetration.

"If you cum before I say you can, there'll be hell to pay," you warned at his ear.

Isaac responded by steadying his breathing, nodding fervently. His curls bounced against your ear while his teeth closed loosely over your shoulder. You let him bite you to muffle his cries of ecstatic enjoyment when you finally took him inside.

Your composure couldn't possibly hold up against the stretch, the obscene sensation of his cock opening your cunt one inch at a time to settle deep within you. It was your turn to moan, to cry your bliss to the cloudy sky while his replies vibrated against your shoulder and his hips started moving haltingly, uncertainly against you. Isaac's fingers dug painfully into your thighs, your ass while he finally, finally fucked you against the back of the greenhouse the way you'd both been fantasizing about all night.

"Fuck, slow down!" you cursed, pulling his hair again to make sure you still had his attention.

Isaac obeyed, drew back just far enough to survey you while his thrusts slowed and his pace evened. Every dragging stroke ended with his tip bumping something exquisite deep inside you, coaxing out the chorus of your pleasure that he seemed to hang onto like a lifeline.

"God, you're fucking tight!" he hissed, speeding up again and rocking your entire body with the force of his thrusts as he slammed into you. Your moans grew louder, but your grip on his hair tightened cruelly, wrenching a little shout of pain from him.

"I said slow!" you reminded him, your free hand creeping back over his throat. You felt it when he swallowed hard, heard it when he whimpered, smirked your satisfaction when he complied with your orders like they were commandments from on high.

"Like that?" he murmured.

"Like that!" you sang. "Fuck, Isaac, you feel amazing! Just like that!"

The praise went straight to his cock and you swore you could feel it throbbing inside of you.

"I don't- I think I... oh, fuck!" he gasped, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he shook from the effort of denying his orgasm. "I can't- God, I'm gonna fucking cum!"

"Not yet!"

"I can't-"

"You can, you can!" you all but begged. Your domineering control slipped abruptly as his thrusts grew sharper again, every brutal slap of his pelvis against yours pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion again. "God, Isaac, you're being so fucking good for me! You're gonna make me cum again, don't you- Fuck! Isaac!"

Your nails dug into his scalp while he lost all semblance of restraint, ramming into you hard enough to rattle the greenhouse glass at your back. You moaned your ecstasy with wild abandon, drowning in the waves of pleasure washing over your body while he ravaged you. One last coherent thought managed to fall past your lips, driving him mad with lust as his teeth sank into your neck with the colossal effort of holding back from exploding inside you.

"Don't you want to make me cum on that perfect cock for you before we're done here?" you panted lecherously, head thrown back against the glass.

Isaac absolutely lost it. You were already there with him, clenching climactically around him while he pulsed and spilled inside you, slick and cum leaking between your writhing bodies with the obscene, unbelievable hedonism of your indulgent transgression. At some point his mouth found yours and his legs gave out. The pair of you crumpled to the grass in a boneless, fucked out heap, clothes askew, chests heaving, lips locked in a winded, stunned daze.

It took a long time for either of you to catch your breath enough to speak or gather enough composure in your muscles to move.

"So... see you in class tomorrow?" Isaac finally managed, voice still shaking while him trembled atop him.

"I see Morticia Frump's macabre fingerprints all over this gloomy excursion," you purred.

You lounged on a black gingham quilt alongside your lover. The moon was high in the sky and its bold, pale light cast the idyllic scene in silver-toned luminescence. Offset by the lesser golden glow of candlelight that waxed shy by comparison, Isaac looked like a creature dragged straight from myth while he chuckled at your playful allegation.

"I should have specified for you to leave your blacklight at home," he quipped in repose. "There's nothing for you to investigate here."

"Nothing to investigate in a cemetery?" you wondered with a raised eyebrow. "I beg to differ. Haven't you ever meandered among the deceased and wondered about the lives they lead? Who they loved, how they died, whether they're resting comfortably or being tormented for eternity?"

"Well, it's your anniversary as much as mine," Isaac ceded thoughtfully. He patted the closed basket laid out at his side. "I packed all your favorites, but if you'd rather wander the boneyard and speculate on the spent potentials interred beneath, I suppose the picnic can wait."

You giggled delightedly and leaped to your feet at once.

"You knew I would want to to explore," you accused him as he joined you upright. "That's why you chose this place for our romantic little outing."

"Maybe..." Isaac teased. "Though the Nevermore graveyard does also have the distinct advantage of being rarely visited... which makes it perfect for a celebrating couple planning to fool around a little."

"Hm, perfect... say, for the most part, who do you suppose ends up buried here?" you wondered, leading him through the creaky, ancient iron gate onto the hallowed grounds. "Staff? Surely not alumni."

"I thought you wanted to unravel the mysteries yourself," Isaac laughed.

"Interrogation is as much a valid method of obtaining information as is pure observation and deduction," you chided him. "And my date is a veritable font of unorthodox facts... why should I waste such a valuable resource?"

"Hm, it's hard to contest that logic," Isaac allowed. "Although I have to admit, you've found a gap in my eclectic knowledge. I never looked into the pedigree of Nevermore's graveyard, nor the demographics of its residents. If I had to hazard a guess-"

"No, no guesses!" you groaned. You took his hand and skipped a winding path through misty, dewy grass that he followed gladly. "You'll take the fun out of it. Come on, let's start with the big memorials! You know the angel with the clipped wings?"

"Clipped wings? That statue is just broken."

"It's not!"

"It is, I've passed it on my way up to Iago tower more times than I can count."

"You never looked close enough," you chastised him. "It's a design choice... here we are. See the ragged edges? See the the raised motifs representing the blood?"

"I'll be... you're right," Isaac wondered, inspecting the monument as instructed. "Who's buried here?"

"Helvetica Roshard," you read from the placard. "Beloved wife, cherished sister, reviled mother and daughter."

"Interesting details," Isaac chuckled.

He ran his fingertips along the stone arm of the doleful angel until his touch abandoned the frigid carving, sought the warmth of your flesh instead. He slid up behind you sinuously, breath scorching on your neck as his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close. He watched, enraptured while you read the rest of the dedication, gears turning in your head while you pieced together the most likely fate of the woman interred at your feet.

"Only a dove would be happy to be buried beneath an angel," you mused. "Clipped wings... her psychic sight was lost before her death and its unlikely she ever recovered from the experience. She died an outcast without an ability. Probably the result of some family drama or personal trauma. Doves see the light in others, the happiness in the future. If she was lost to the darkness, she would have been as blind as a lark in the night. Psychically speaking, of course."

"Mm, grim," Isaac purred at your ear, far too satisfied for the context of your observations. "I adore watching you work through your puzzles."

"Shameless boy," you giggled, swatting him playfully over your shoulder. His lips grazed your jaw, his amusement vibrating against your skin. "Show some respect."

"By respect, I suppose you mean restraint," Isaac clarified.

"Exactly. Put that lecherous appetite of yours away for later," you admonished him.

Despite your frisky scolding, you arched against his body to savor the way you slotted perfectly against the hard lines and long planes of his lithe figure. His excitement was palpable, pressing improprietously into the small of your back. Your arousal rose to meet his on uncontrollable instinct, but you bit your lip and set your resolve. You wouldn't cave to such impulses, not here of all places.

Elsewhere, by all means...

"Come on, I want to see who they deemed important enough to honor with a place in the crypt," you urged him.

You pulled free of his embrace and darted beyond his reach mischievously. He gave chase, the path of your frolic winding between tombstones and around memorials with blithe disregard for the somber atmosphere that should have permeated the grounds. Grief had no place in your company when you were with Isaac, especially not for the sake of strangers gone centuries prior.

You were out of breath by the time you stumbled into the shade of the crypt, laughter interrupted by your attempts to even the tempo of your ragged inhalations. Isaac was less strained and he paused at the threshold while you leaned against the far wall. The darkness within the squat, elegant structure was more complete, deeper, less vulnerable to the piercing gaze of the moon and her cold spears of light. You melted into the shadows like they were home, regathered your composure while Isaac lingered on the precipice of entry with his arms spread wide between pillars.

With the stark midnight radiance framing his already striking silhouette, his features were entirely lost to blackness for a moment. Your lover was reduced to poise and the expectation of movement, to the tension preceding action, the monochrome beauty of a classical, timeless work of art. The desire that always simmered through your veins in his presence coalesced, condensed into an ethereal concoction synthesized by the confluence of moonlight and silken marble at your back. It sharpened into an admiration that transcended lust, into a hunger that defied heresy and transformed your trespass into a new sanctification of the burial place.

You summoned him closer with a single finger, waited in place while he approached slowly. He seemed as entranced by your beauty as you were by his, ravenous eyes drinking in the velvet umbra that enshrouded you like a wedding veil where one would have expected a burial shroud.

"Tonight, we bless the senseless dead with the vigor of life," you declared, tone still frayed at the edges from the exertion of your romp through the headstones. "Tonight, we tantalize ashes with breath and desiccated dust with beating hearts. Do you think the interred lay envious of our privilege, Isaac?"

"I think..."

He sidled up to trap you against the wall, lost the thread of his thought between your lips. It was with relish that you devoured his eloquence, with gusto that your hands raked over his body while your moans echoed in the ghastly space. The crypt fixed your passion with unseen eyes, condemned your transgression as the invasion it truly was. You had a thought of remorse, but Isaac's fingers had found their way beneath your clothes as effortlessly as ever. Reason never deserved a place between your entwined forms while you were each lost in the sensations of the other and the somber atmosphere of the crypt could inspire no more chagrin in your twisted hearts than any other setting.

"You think?" you prompted, still curious to hear what examination of your prose Isaac might have to offer. He sank lower, dropped to his knees eagerly to worship the skin he was able to get his mouth on without fully undressing you.

"I think... you're so gorgeous that all the ghosts here are jealous of us," Isaac rasped, tongue lathing out enthusiastically to taste you. "I think the old ladies are weeping because they'll never be so beautiful again... and the dusty, dead men are trying their damndest to possess me so they can steal a touch for themselves..."

"Mm, creepy," you sighed delightedly. "Are you possessed yet, Isaac?"

"Only by your perfection," he replied coyly.

Thoughts of your prospective, otherworldly audience were hardly enough to deter you from letting him pull your clothes aside, from sighing your pleasure when he hid his face between your legs like he was shy of being seen so helpless to your sensual allure. Your fingers tangled through his hair and at first you were patient, scratching his scalp encouragingly, playing with his curls while he muffled his satisfaction in your flesh. The longer he plied you with veneration, the higher he gradually drove your pleasure, the harder it became for you to stay quiet. You clapped one hand over your mouth, tightened your grasp on him to crush him closer to the place you needed him most.

You hooked one leg over his shoulder, savored the little groan he gave at the added weight, the way he shifted to accommodate your silent demands. His fingers flexed against your flesh but never dug in, braced but never grappled, stroked without ever growing rough. Isaac was quieter than you were used to him being and you wondered if the dreadful ambiance of the baleful environment was dampening his libido.

It didn't take long for him to finish you with nothing but his tongue and his devotion and when he rose to kiss you again, you could feel the vitality of his unchecked virility straining to reach you through his clothes. The desperate edge in the way his lips worked against yours, the heated tenor of his uneven breaths, the quivering anticipation permeating his tense muscles all conspired to disperse your suspicion that he felt too guilty to fuck you here in the crypt you were defiling.

"Want you so bad!" he gasped against the corner of your mouth, hands fluttering frantically over your body like he could satisfy himself if he felt enough of you. You moaned in response to the way he ground against your thigh, struggling in vain to soothe his aching, neglected erection without undressing himself.

"So take me!" you giggled breathlessly, arms thrown around his shoulders to support yourself. Your knees were shaking in the wake of your climax, making it difficult to stay upright.

Isaac's curls bounced against your cheeks as he shook his head and pulled back to tug you urgently toward the exit.

"Not here, come on! Quick!" he chuckled, abusing his own bottom lip with eager teeth while his dark eyes drank in the sight of your willingness.

"Isaac, I'm surprised at you," you purred, teasing more than scolding. "Eating me out in a crypt isn't something you have any qualms with, but laying me down and ravishing me here is a step too far?"

"Not at all, silly," Isaac laughed. He pulled you close again insistently, traced the long groove of your spine worshipfully while his mouth wet the column of your neck salaciously. "Why would I lay you down on cold marble when we left a perfectly serviceable blanket back on the grass outside?"

You shivered with ecstasy at his consideration, pleased with his gallant line of reasoning.

"Besides," he went on, backing up and leading you out of the crypt and back into the crisp night air. "... you look like a goddess in the light of the full moon. You wear darkness like a gala gown, but would you really deprive me of a glimpse of the divine?"

"And here I thought there was more poeticism in desecration," you purred happily. "You make respectful lovemaking sound more sacrilegious than fornicating in a graveyard..."

"Respectful lovemaking?!" Isaac smirked. "I never said anything about respect... I'm planning on ravaging you in ways the dead and angels alike will weep to witness."

It was your turn to bite your lip, utterly enticed by the promise of your own impending ruin. You let Isaac lead you back through the tombstones, hand-in-hand with reprobate debauchery incarnate.