Title: Quid Pro Quo
Pairing: Bianchi/Dino
Summary: Dino Cavallone has a broad-minded sense of fair play.
Notes: Adult for smut. 1214 words.

Quid Pro Quo

When Dino first raised the question, Bianchi gave him a long look and said, "You first."

She hadn't actually expected that he would say, "Well, okay," though in retrospect, she decided that she probably should have. The man was absolutely dependable when it came to matters of quid pro quo.

And that was why he was currently sprawled face-down across their bed, knees spread wide and a stack of pillows under his hips, gasping every time she twisted her fingers inside him. "God," he breathed as she slid a third finger into him and curled them, "God, Bianchi..." He had his cheek pressed against the sheets and she could just see the way his lips parted for every breathless sound he made.

She twisted her fingers again, watching the muscles ripple up and down his back as he shuddered. Sweat slicked his skin and darkened the hair at his nape and temples to honey-gold, and he flexed his hands against the sheets as she worked her fingers in and out of him.

The conclusion was obvious. "I think you've been holding out on me, Cavallone," Bianchi told him, punctuating the pronouncement with a light smack on the upturned curve of his ass.

The sound he made then—something between a groan and a gasp—made her raise her eyebrows, intrigued, even as he pushed back against her fingers. "Hold still," she said, bringing her free hand down again, more firmly this time.

He closed his eyes and moaned for her, open and deep, and wasn't that interesting? "You have been holding out on me," she murmured, delighted, and slapped his ass again, hard enough to raise the color in his fair skin. Dino groaned something inarticulate in reply, his entire body shuddering. "I hope you realize that we're going to have a long conversation about this later."

But later was the operational word there. The gentle buzz of the vibrator seated at the base of the strap-on he'd selected (as Bianchi had pointed out, it was his ass) was starting to be less of a pleasant enticement than a cruel tease. She brought her hand down one more time for good measure, firm enough to drive a hoarse grunt out of Dino's throat, and let her fingers slip free of his body. "Now," she said, a little husky with how into this he was getting, and stroked some more lube over the strap-on itself. He opened his eyes as she did, looking over his shoulder at her, watching her, and that made another throb of heat pulse through her. Bianchi shifted herself onto her knees, sliding the head of the strap-on against him. "Yeah?"

"Please," he said, like a prayer, and groaned again as she began pushing it into him, working the blunt thickness into him with each slow back-and-forth roll of her hips.

Bianchi groaned, too, as that changed the way the base of the strap-on pressed against her, bringing the thrumming vibrator into more solid contact with her clit. "Fuck," she gasped, settling her hands on his hips and holding them when he tried to drive himself back against the strap-on and sensation spiked up her spine. "Jesus, slow down."

Dino laughed, breathless. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" he asked, grinning at her over his shoulder. "C'mon, it's all right. Give it to me."

"Such a long talk," Bianchi promised him.

Whatever he might have said to that was lost in the sound he made as she pushed all the way home, pressing against him and panting as the base of the strap-on rubbed against her. She held herself there for a moment, grinding herself against him as he knotted his hands in the sheets and pressed himself back against her hands, against her, and then let herself move, rolling her hips against his as pleasure, thick and visceral, uncoiled itself along her nerves. Dino moved with her, flexing under her hands to meet her thrusts and groaning his pleasure.

She was beginning to wonder whether he was even going to pursue the quo for this quid. But that was a question for later.

In the meantime, there was the slick heat of his skin under her palms and the way her throat was dry with panting, the pleasure building and redoubling on itself every time she sank the strap-on into him and the base of it pressed against her clit, the hum of the little vibrator sending sensation climbing her spine, until she couldn't maintain that steady rhythm any longer. She groaned when pleasure seized on her, bucking against Dino as it closed on her, relentless, until she had to pull back, retreat from the way the strap-on pressed against her.

He protested, whining something nonsensical as she slid free of him. Bianchi leaned over him, gasping for breath and fumbling with the strap-on, fingers clumsy until she found the switch and killed the thrum of the vibrator. The absence of that vibration was as intense as its presence and wrung another throb of pleasure out of her.

Dino shifted under her palms, possibly not entirely of his own volition. "Little help here?" he panted.

"Hang on." She sucked in a breath, a deep one, and let it out slowly as the dizzy rush of pleasure receded again, watching him rock himself against the pillows. Yeah, no, they could do better than that. "Turn over for me."

She couldn't really blame him for how quickly he obeyed, and wasn't that a pretty sight to see? He was flushed and glassy-eyed, lips red from where he'd been biting them. He whined again as she looked him over, taking in the tangle of hair clinging to his temples and the rapid rise-and-fall of his chest, and she had to smack his hand when he began to reach for his cock. "Hands off."

"That's not fair," he protested, even as he reached up and closed his hands on the sheets over his head.

Bianchi laughed and ran her hands down his legs, fitting them under his knees and pushing them up, spreading him wide open and holding him that way. "Baby, who said anything about fair?" she asked, settling between his thighs and sliding herself home again. It was almost too much sensation to handle, but it was worth it for the way he threw his head back and groaned for her, gripping the sheets with white-knuckled hands as she fucked him. "God, look at you," she breathed, shifting the angle of her thrusts, and a bit more, and there, that brought his back off the bed and a cry flying out of his mouth. She did it again, and again, until he went silent and taut under her, mouth open on a silent gasp as he came all over himself and his body wrung down around the strap-on. Bianchi groaned for him, another wave of heat rippling through her as she watched him, all golden and undone and hers.

"You know," she said, a little while later, once they'd come down from the edge and gotten themselves settled, "you could have just said."

Dino's shoulder shook under her cheek as he chuckled. "Yeah, but this way was more fun, don't you think?"

And really, Bianchi didn't see how she could disagree.

end

Because sometimes, a gal just needs to write about Dino Cavallone getting nailed. Ahem.