Unexpected Domino Effect - Brielle & Domino.

[Afterhoursclub]

“Gahh!”

A short gasp, just mere moments before their figures intertwined together in an intimate, steamy embrace- completely controlled by the model and his deep desires of conquest. The fire of resistance had been extinguished, replaced by mere compliance, rightful acceptance… and why not, some sort of self-indulgence in the moment.

His grip grew tighter, clenching her naked breast with force, sending a myriad of stimuli across Brielle’s figure. Causing her body to shiver and heave, still in Domino’s hug. Until suddenly, this one travels lower- pulling himself even deeper into her. “Hmph…!” dragging a low moan out of her lips, her head shoots back despite the strong hold of the other hand against her scalp, before falling right back, once again crossing stares with the model, biting her lower lip while completely lost in the heat of the moment… the heat of their steamy exchange… eyes filled with sudden sparking anger with lustful hints.

Her body moved in unison with his, following the same rhythm as they continued with the primal ritual; her arms came up- nails digging deep into his back, more a reflex than an attempt to hurt him. Ragged breaths matching his… a fast heartbeat shared by both-

There was a clear mutual desire lingering in the air… growing more and more evident the longer they stayed glued to each other. No point in denying it… no case to fight against it anymore.

[CyanDimitrik]

Everything feels like an encouragement; everything. This is the natural result of their conflict, their clash. It was a chord struck from the get-go, at the very start - when Brielle opted to be flirtatious and dance with danger. There's no doubt in his mind that this is a possibility she foresaw. And thanks in no small part to that bold approach to their match, it became manifest. And now, even that look in her eyes - somewhere between anger and desire - rings too similar to the heat they shared in the ring. It's an aphrodisiac. A lure. The graze of her fingers against his skin may leave light scratches against sweaty skin for a uniquely stinging sensation, but everything about this contact has included some level of pain and strain.

Their bodies entangled and connected, Domino leverages his body firmly against her. Defined pectorals mash firmly into her breasts, his head turning to begin covering her cheek in kisses. His hips roll against hers, brushing upwards to tightly surround himself with her warmth, and smoothly lowering again only to pump upwards again. Each push rhythmically presses her lower back into the lockers, every meeting of their hips in full heralding the tightest pressure.

Heated breaths sweep against her skin, and his lips begin trailing downwards. By the time he reaches the corner of her jaw, his fingers slip from her hair in favor of reaching lower and hooking her thigh to draw her leg upwards, hitching the knee closer to his side.

[Afterhoursclub]

Brielle simply let herself go… taken away by the heat of the moment… and the heat of her intimate encounter with Domino. Ragged breaths, quick pulse, and sheer desire for each other… all qualities shared with her new passionate acquaintance… all the fighting, the struggling, the vicious battle both in the ring and in the locker room had told each one everything they needed to know about the other… and had brought them both to this exact moment.

“Hmph…” another grunt escaped Brielle as the intensity of the moment was doing a number on her, despite the goth gal being actively part of it now. Clawing at the man’s back as this one seemed to be indulging himself with the slick skin of her cheek, filling her with provocative kisses. Picking her leg up to further press himself onto her. Squeezing her both against the lockers… 

Whoever these belonged to would find a rather unexpected surprise, with the door starting to dent with the sheer force applied to it by the two entangled fighters.

“Aghh…” a low moan, feeling a wave of stimuli running across her figure coming from the sensual tension below. The goth’s hands shot up, coiling around the man’s head and breaking his frenzy of kisses. Brielle pushed him down, burying his face deep in between her naked breasts, almost sealing his face off from the entire world. She pressed harder and harder with each second. The devilish Brit was unable to completely concede, her mischievous nature never leaving her despite how “dominated” she might be… it was just a part of her at this point.

She knew how agitated Domino was, almost as much as herself… cutting off any air intake would only drive him closer to unconsciousness just as long as she managed to keep the lock tight enough.

[CyanDimitrik]

Of the various ways their encounter could unfold, this was assuredly the least expected. Of course, everything about it had been from the start. He couldn't have expected her to want to continue fighting backstage after their match, he couldn't have expected the tension to escalate in this way, and even after she'd submitted to him, he couldn't have expected her to manually bury his face in her breasts.

Out of the many mixed matches Domino has now wrestled, this is the first time someone has tried this on him. Sweating, soft hills of flesh surround his face, burying him in heaving heat in no way lessened by his own tight, panting breath. He doesn't slow down the work below, but rather the feel of her struggling - in her own way - causes it to intensify. Her leg is gripped harder against his hip, while the stroke within her hastens, rhythmically slamming her backside into the locker as pressure builds.

His face squirms, every motion pushing his features into one breast or the other. Breathing is more difficult now, but he's daring to not resist. Not yet. Rather, impulsively Domino opens his mouth to capture a part of her right breast in his mouth. The flesh is teased with the tease before - pressure! A bite! Firm and tight, not enough to break skin, but assuredly enough to be felt and even with a bit of pain to go with her pleasure.

[Afterhoursclub]

The tension, the exhausting and intimate embrace of their figures, builds up to the main climax. Was all of this planned right from the start? Did any of them think about this turn of events back when their eyes first met in the lonely locker room? Or, even further back... when they first met inside the squared circle earlier that night? Maybe deep inside... locked in the most obscure part of themselves... hid the faint version of each one who imagined so; god knows that the thought crossed Brielle's mind at least once, but her own competitive persona kept it from lingering any longer than necessary.

However, now... all doubt had been completely erased. Reality had set in... unlocking their deepest desires right then and there.

She remained glued to his figure, intertwined in a passionate union reserved only for lovers, those lost in the romanticism of a reciprocal courtship

And yet, love was hardly involved- no, this was something more primal and ordinary than that; they desired each other... and there wasn't anything they wanted more.

"Hmmph!" A loud moan escaped Brielle's lips, sensing the stroke speeding up, her back hitting the cold locker door repeatedly, keeping a tight choke around the man's head, forcing his face deeper into her attributes. She wasn't ready to let go... not when they were so close... so, so close to each other.

"Gahh!" Brielle peeled her eyes as soon as the bite came, intensifying the myriad of stimuli even more... her legs moved up, wrapping around Domino's waist in a tight coil, like two thick snakes surrounding prey. Soon, he was carrying her entire weight, keeping her up with the help of the lockers behind them. The Goth squeezed even harder... stronger than ever, with both legs on his form and her arms around his head.