fic: give and take (xmfc, girl!charles/erik)

[schmerica]

introductory and mumblemutter both suggested fisting porn when I asked for prompts last week, so this is for them. ♥

Give and Take
by Pearl-o

X-men: First Class, girl!Charles/Erik, NC-17, ~1300 words. Mutant roadtrip setting. Vaginal fisting.

Summary: "So," Charlotte says, "how long until you can go again?"

*****

Erik rolls off of Charlotte, landing on his back with a thud. The bedclothes have been kicked aside, scattered every which way across the mattress and floor. He's covered with sweat along his neck, his back, his arms, and now that he and Charlotte are separated he can feel it rapidly cooling all over, even in the warmth of the night. He takes in a deep breath, holding it for a long second before letting it out, trying to get his respiration back to its normal rate.

"Wow," Charlotte says. She makes a noise that's probably supposed to be a whistle, then stretches, letting out a pleased-sounding moan. "Don't let that go to your head or anything, mind you," she adds, propping herself up on one elbow so she can look over Erik. "You're arrogant enough already, I don't want to exacerbate the problem."

Erik laughs. He can count the number of times he's truly laughed over the last few years. He doesn't think he's ever laughed in bed.

Charlotte grins at him and leans down to kiss him, a slow deep hello. She drags his lower lip away with her teeth before she pulls away. "So," she says, "how long until you can go again?"

"I have no idea," Erik says. His sex life, for the last decade, at least, has been largely consisted of solitary masturbation - more of a chore than anything else, his libido a distraction and an annoyance rather than a source of pleasure. It had never occurred to him to measure his refractory capacities. "What, do you still want more? You seemed well-satisfied enough."

"Mmm," Charlotte says, a wicked glimmer in her eye, "never."

If he could make it so purely by force of will, Erik would be erect again already. He wonders, for a moment, if Charlotte could do that - the force of her will is, of course, on a whole different level than anybody else's. That's a question for another time, though.

Erik rises from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Charlotte says, curious, then a moment later: Oh, as she checks for herself. Erik can hear her rearranging herself on the bed as he goes through the suitcase, searching for the small container of oil. When he finds it, he stands back up and faces her. She's arranged herself on her back, propped up by all the pillows they have, and her legs are parted, her knees bent, so he can see right into the folds and curves of her sex.

Erik climbs back onto the bed, dropping the container on the sheets, and ducks his head down to take her nipple into his mouth. Charlotte croons as he suckles her, her hands coming up to hold his head close, and he moves his right hand down to slip two fingers into her cunt. She's still so wet and open from his fucking her, still dripping with her want. She moves against his hand, quick and impatient, and he gives her another.

"Not enough," Charlotte sighs against his hair. "Not after your cock."

Greedy girl, Erik thinks. He licks at the line of freckles that stripes down her chest, in the valley between her breasts. Charlotte makes a displeased noise when he raises his head and moves his hand out of her, but even as wet as she is, they need something more. He reaches for the oil and coats his hand liberally, until everything is slick and slippery and smooth.

He watches her face as he puts his fingers back - four, this time. Charlotte's face is flushed, a redness that continues all the way down to her upper chest, and she's biting her lip. Her hair, out of its normal sleek arrangement, has arranged itself into a mass of untidy curls that frame her face on the pillow. When he flicks his thumb gently against her clit, she lets out a breathy sigh.

Don't tease, Charlotte says, and, yes, this is good, when he has her far enough gone she can't speak aloud anymore.

"How much do you think you can take?" Erik says, and he's pleased with how casual his voice sounds. He tucks his thumb in against his fingers and they slide into her easily for a few inches. He stops before his hand widens at the knuckles.

I can take anything you want to give me, Charlotte says, pride and desire and challenge and so much mixed up in her thoughts, Erik has to shut his eyes for a moment, regain himself before he can move again.

He pushes in, and he'd be concerned about the groan that escapes her, worried that he was hurting her somehow, if he couldn't still hear her thoughts, don't stop don't stop don't you dare. Once they get past the knuckles, the thickness of his thumb, it's suddenly easier, as her body pulls him in.

It's unbelievably tight, unbelievably full. He can't imagine what it feels like for Charlotte.

"I'm going to move," Erik says, and he waits for Charlotte's mental nod of acknowledgment. The shifting of his hand is tiny and careful, but it makes Charlotte cry out loudly, her hand grasping out to grab his free arm, her nails digging sharp into his wrist. When he does it again, she comes, shaking and sobbing, while he holds himself absolutely still.

She falls back against the pillows, finally, and opens her eyes. "Jesus Christ almighty," Charlotte says. She blows a tuft of hair out of her eyes. "No more. That's enough."

Getting his hand back out is harder than getting it in was. It's a slow, slow process. By the time they're finished, Charlotte looks absolutely wrecked. Erik can't do anything but stare at her for a long minute.

He gets up then, goes to the bathroom and washes his hands, puts away the oil. When he comes back to the bed, he picks the sheets back up off the floor and pulls them up over the two of them. He turns the lamp off, using his power, and it's dark in the room. It's dark in the room.

"You're not going to go to sleep without kissing me?" Charlotte says, sounding outraged.

Erik smiles to himself and rolls over, curls himself around her and kisses her soundly.

"Oh," Charlotte says, laughing, "of course, now you're hard again." Her hand wraps around his cock, proving her point; Erik hisses. "And what are we going to do about that, now?" She strokes him lazily, as if puncuating her question.

Erik shuts his eyes tightly. "It's fine. You're exhausted. We can just sleep."

"Oh my darling," Charlotte murmurs, close against his mouth. "What did I tell you before? Everything that you can give me." She kisses him, still stroking his cock, and after a moment she pulls away. She throws the bedsheets back again and moves down his chest and his abdomen in a trail of biting kisses, until she reaches his erection. She doesn't tease at all, just opens wide and takes him inside her glorious wet mouth.

When was the last time you had a blowjob? she projects to Erik. He can't form an answer for her, and he can feel the sudden realization in the Oh that follows. All right, she sends, even as every lick and suck is killing Erik a little bit more. Just lie back, then, and let me take care of you.

It goes against all his instincts, giving up his control like this, but somehow, here, for Charlotte, he wants to. Erik clenches his hands tightly in the bedsheet and he stops thinking entirely.