Usual disclaimers: I don't own these characters, just find them very fun to play with. Same apology as before as I inform all to read at your own risk at my spelling mistakes.
Of course, Rachel never made it easy for him. Once she realized he as putting her into a position where she'd have absolutely no power, she struggled a bit. It only made Trent want her more and he pressed himself against her back, bringing her wrists together to hold then firmly in place above her head. He may not be a vampire, but elves had impressive strength. Enough to hold a feisty red-head in place. His body pushed hers into the cold tile and he was rewarded with little gasps even before he began to nibble softly at the nape of her neck. She tasted salty from sweat and he groaned into her skin.
He knew she was more than ready when he drew back and reached down his own body to his trembling need. His own skin burned with lust and his shaft throbbed to be touched. He angled himself while she tipped her hips back to aid in his desperate entry. There was nothing slow or soft about this penetration. One moment he was behind her pointing in, the next she was locked around him, her tight sheath gripping him fiercely. They both cried out, their voices hoarse as it echoed off the walls.
Before she could recover, Trent began to move. His thrusts were hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping skin made a passionate rhythm with their moans and cries the harmony. He held her hands in place over her head until he knew she was too far gone to resist. His hands smoothed down the wet flesh of her back, kneading and caressing, his fingers made her skin white where he held her. First her shoulders, then down her spine, reaching forward to caress the outline of her breasts where they were pressed firmly against the wall and finally down to her hips, forcing her back as he thrust in to make the strokes that much more powerful.
The sensation as amazing and Trent felt he would die from the sheer pleasure of it. He could feel her instinctively tightening her muscles when he thrust in and loosening them when he eased out. Oh, god, she felt so good. Then it got even better when she climaxed, screaming against the tiles and twitching and clutching her opening around him. He almost lost control, almost came with her and he had to fight his own body to keep the momentum going.
Once she finished riding her orgasm, Trent pulled out as suddenly as he'd originally thrust in. He smiled when he heard her moan and pressed his lips against her ear to growl in return. She shivered for him and he spun her around. The look on her face was priceless, everything Trent wanted in one beautiful expression. Her eyes were closed, her brow pinched and her mouth slightly open. Little whimpers escaped those lush, kissable lips and he didn't deny himself. Even while he reached to cup her firm behind and raise her off the ground, his mouth devoured hers. His tongue reached so far into her mouth that he was surprised she didn't gag. That has possibilities, Trent grinned to himself.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms held his shoulders while he fed at her mouth. The angle was perfect and allowed Trent to push back into those tight folds once again, those movements still as forceful as before. Rachel could do nothing but take him, her back pressed into the cold tile and her weight supported solely on him while he pounded inside her. By her cries alone he'd have been able to tell that she was about to climax again and this time, he could not deny himself. When she began to shiver against him and her nails clawed at his shoulders, her legs clutched him to her and her voice came out in harsh screams, he echoed her cries and his rhythm faultered. Her climax came like a tidal wave, her slick fluids dripping down him even while the hot water caressed their flesh. The sensation alone would have been enough but her screams and nails in his back helped him along while he cried her name in a hoarse scream and emptied himself into her.
For a while, neither of them moved. They trembled against one another and Trent's legs felt as though they may give out at any time, but he held her against that wall while their breathing slowly turned to normal. He watched her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face. Slowly he watched the shine of climax fade into a glow of contentment. When she finally opened her eyes and looked back at him, a slow smile spread over his lips. "Did you say we needed to talk about something, Miss Morgan," he said in a trembling voice.
At first she just frowned at him and Trent thought for sure he'd be in trouble. He never let her down, of course, still fully sheathed inside her with her back against the wall. He figured she could do less damage if she couldn't move. Then, suddenly, she was laughing and doing wicked things to him while he still held himself inside her. Trent groaned and nearly dropped her, his head coming to rest on her shoulder.
"Oh, sorry Trent," she cooed condescendingly. "Is that distracting? I wouldn't want to do that." And she continued to laugh, her arms and legs pulling him closer and her mouth coming down to grin against his shoulder.
"If you don't stop that, Morgan," he growled, feeling himself pulse back to full life, "I'll have you again right here on the shower floor. In fact, I think I'll do that anyway." Rachel squealed with delight and mock fear when he spun her down and almost slammed her against the floor. He slowly began to move inside her when there was a soft knock against the bathroom door.
"This had better be an emergency," Trent growled while he continued to move slowly inside Rachel. She made little whimpers as she felt every ridge and vein of him sliding in and out of her overly sensitive sheath. He knew he didn't need to speak any louder if it was Quen and if it wasn't, he didn't much give a damn. He was all but lost in the sensation of her soft skin and vice-like grip on all things lower.
"I don't mean to, er, interrupt, Sa'han," came Quen's voice through the solid oak of the door, "but Rynn Cormel is waiting to see you in your office."
Rachel ran her nails down Trent's chest as he held himself above her on his palms and Trent shivered almost not catching Quen's words. "Tell him I'll be with him... momentarily," Trent grunted, thrusting deeper.
"I do hope not," the very busy elf heard while he moved inside his red haired witch.
Trent grinned and began to move with more purpose. He leaned down, doing a press-up move just over her body, her nipples dragging back and forth over his chest. She shivered for him and turned her head to the side. "I regret that I do not have more time for this," he whispered into the soft, slick flesh of her neck, his lips leaving light kisses, "but I promise that I'll make it up later." She groaned and Trent took it as acceptance and began to move faster. It wasn't quite the brutal tempo that he'd have moments before, but it was certainly anything but gentle. With their already sensitive skin, it didn't take long before they were screaming each other's names into the steamy air.
Trent rolled over, gasping for air while he lay next to her on the hard tile. He felt himself twitching on his lower abdomen and he was amazed he had not lost the will to move. This woman was a drug. After a few moments of collecting himself, he turned, finding Rachel still incoherent from her orgasm. He grined and placed gentle kisses along her shoulder and arm. "Feel free to clean up, but do not leave the compound," he growled. "We still have that talk you wanted."
"God, Trent, haven't you talked enough?" Rachel asked and Trent was absolutely certain she didn't mean anything verbal while he collected himself off the floor, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom.