[Third Person Pov]
MJ's fingers curl into the fabric of Peter's shirt, her knees pressing against the cushions on either side of him. The couch creaks softly under their shifting weight. Peter's hands hover near her waist, unsure where to settle. His breath comes quick against her lips, uneven from the way her mouth meets his again and again.
Their hands move frantically, fingers fumbling with belt buckles and button flies as the heat between them intensifies. Peter's breath hitches when MJ's nails scrape lightly down his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching beneath her touch. His own fingers finally find the button of her shorts, popping it open with practiced ease despite his racing heart. She arches into him as his hands slip beneath her top, rough fingertips tracing the warm skin of her back.
"Fuck, MJ," Peter murmurs against her mouth, the words soft and strained. His thumbs brush the undersides of her breasts as he pulls her flush against him, the hard line of his arousal pressing between her thighs.
MJ's shirt hits the floor in a smooth motion, the fabric whispering against the hardwood as Peter's hands immediately find the clasp of her bra. She gasps when he pulls her against him, her bare skin pressing against his chest as she moves down to his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below his ear. Peter's fingers tighten on her hips, pulling her harder against him as she bites down gently.
"Jesus," he breathes, his voice rough with want. He rolls his hips up against her, the friction sending a jolt through both of them.
Peter groans as she sinks her teeth into him again, sharper this time, and his hands slide down to her ass, gripping hard. She makes a small sound into his neck—half moan, half laugh—and her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging. The couch gives another protesting creak beneath their shifting weight, but neither of them cares. The only thing that matters is the heat between them, the way her skin burns against his, the way she arches into every touch like she can't get close enough.
"Peter," she murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at him. Her hair is wild around her face, lips swollen from kissing, eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
The fabric of their remaining clothes clings to them for a moment before falling away, discarded in the heat of the moment. Peter's boxers ride low on his hips, straining against the hard line of his cock as he rolls his hips up against MJ, his bare skin sliding against hers. Her lace panties rub against the damp spot forming between her thighs, the friction sending a jolt through her entire body.
She grits her teeth, biting down on his shoulder as he grinds up against her again, the slick heat between them intensifying. Her nails dig into his back, her body arching into his as he rocks against her, the rhythm becoming almost frantic.
Peter's fingers tighten on her hips, pulling her down harder as he moves against her, his breath coming in ragged gasps against her neck. She can feel the muscles in his arms straining as he lifts her, guiding her movements, the two of them moving in perfect rhythm despite the growing intensity between them.
"I need you," she breathes into his ear, her voice thick with desire. Her hands slide up his chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath his skin as she moves her hips in slow, deliberate circles. The groan that tears from his throat sends a shiver down her spine, and she grinds down harder, seeking more friction, more connection.
Her fingers brush against her soaked panties, pulling them to the side with deliberate slowness, revealing the slick folds beneath. Peter inhales sharply as she wraps her hand around his cock, guiding it to her entrance. Her fingers glisten as she strokes him, coating his length in her arousal, teasing the tip against her clit in slow, torturous circles. A low groan rumbles in Peter's chest as she moves her hips, lining him up exactly where she wants him.
"You succubus, you'll really be the death of me" he breathes, his hands gripping her hips as she sinks down onto him inch by agonizing inch. She throws her head back with a gasp as he fills her, stretching her perfectly.
Her legs tremble around him, her body adjusting to the fullness as she rolls her hips experimentally, seeking that perfect angle. Peter's fingers dig into her skin, his face contorted with the effort of holding himself still, of letting her take what she needs.
"God, you feel good," she whispers, leaning forward until their foreheads touch. Her hair falls around them like a curtain, and he reaches up to tangle his hands in it, pulling her mouth back to his. Their tongues meet again, slower this time, more deliberate. He tastes like salt and want, and she swallows the sound he makes when she shifts her weight, taking him deeper.
Her nails rake down his chest as she lifts herself up slightly, then sinks down again, setting a slow, sinful rhythm. Peter's breath comes in ragged gasps, his body tensing beneath her with every movement. His hands slide from her hips to her ass, squeezing as he helps guide her movements, pushing her down harder when she reaches the base of his cock. The wet sounds of their joining mix with the creak of the couch and the gasps escaping MJ's throat. Every nerve in her body is alight with the stretch of him inside her, the friction building as she grinds down on each downward stroke.
"You like that, huh?" she murmurs, her voice rough with pleasure.
"Do you even need to ask?" Peter grunted with a smirk.
Peter thrusts his hips up with focused intensity, each movement sending a shockwave through MJ's body. Her ass ripples in response, the round flesh quivering as he drives himself deeper inside her. The muscles in her thighs shake with the effort of meeting his thrusts, her toes curls as she rocks against him. Each thrust makes her tits bounce, the hardened nipples brushing against his chest as he grunts with effort.
He growls, his voice thick with need. His hands slide from her hips to grip her ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he guides her movements.
Tension builds in her body as she feels her orgasm approaching, her fangs beginning to elongate in her mouth. She moves faster, riding Peter harder, her claws scraping down his chest as she feels the familiar pressure coiling tighter in her core. When the waves finally crash over her, she bites down on his shoulder, her fangs sinking into his skin as she cries out, her body convulsing around his cock.
Peter groans at the sharp pain, his hands gripping her ass harder as he drives into her one final time. His own fangs extend as he finds his release, biting into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his hot cum filling her in pulsing waves. The bite sends a jolt of heat through both of them, the pain sharp and electric. MJ gasps, her whole body locking up around him, every muscle contracting as she comes apart in his arms. Peter's hands slide from her ass to her back, pulling her down harder onto him, grounding her through the violent waves of pleasure that roll through her. She can feel the pulse of his own release inside her, hot and thick, and it only makes her clench tighter, drawing out both their orgasms until neither can breathe.
Her fangs retract slowly, her breath coming in shallow pants against his shoulder. The taste of blood—his blood—on her tongue makes her dizzy, but she doesn't pull away.
She licks at the wound slowly, deliberately, her tongue moving over the punctures with exacting care. The blood coats her lips, copper and iron and something uniquely Peter filling her senses. His body tenses beneath her, muscles going rigid as he watches her with heavy-lidded eyes. She pushes herself up, her palms flattening against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her skin.
The blood in the corner of her mouth catches the light as she stares down at him, her breathing still ragged from the aftershocks of her orgasm. His hands remain at her waist, holding her gently, his own breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
"I don't know what came over me," she breathes, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her skin. Her voice is husky, still thick with arousal. Peter's gaze darkens as he watches the movement, his cock twitching inside her despite having just come. His hands slide up her sides, fingers tracing the faint pink marks left from her nails.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs, voice rough. His thumbs brush over her collarbones, one resting against the fresh bite mark on her shoulder. He leans up slightly, pressing a kiss to the spot where his fangs broke skin. She shudders at the touch, her body still sensitive from their intense coupling. The taste of his blood remains on her tongue, and instinctively she leans down to press her mouth to his, sharing the flavor between them. Peter moans into the kiss, his hands moving to cup her face as she deepens it, his tongue swiping against hers. He can taste himself there—metallic and musky—and it sends a fresh jolt of arousal through him.
He rolls his hips up, still semi-hard inside her, drawing another gasp from MJ. She breaks the kiss to look down at him, her dark gaze alight with fresh hunger. "Again?"
"Always"
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