all_inclusive | I want you bad

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I want you bad

She's starting to get twitchy.

Generally, it's not like Johanna ever goes for a very long drought without getting what she wants. She's secure in her body, aggressive, and back home, just famous enough that one look could get her into bed with any man she likes. Here, though, it's not as easy. She's not so easily recognized and when she's as aggressive as she usually is to get what she wants, it gets met with shyness or nerves or a general rebuff.

It's starting to make her twitchy and Johanna gets violent pretty quickly after. It means her axe is going to find something to get embedded in if she can't find someone to make her sweat and scream soon. If she can't do it horizontally, she's going for next best thing, which is why she's coming back from a ten mile run around the grounds, panting and glistening and feeling her heart racing. It's not exactly what she wants, but it's not a bad distraction for now.

Grabbing a towel, she wipes the sweat from her forehead as she spots a figure on the horizon, grinning a little wider. "Even better," she notes to herself, "the kind of distraction I could grow to like."

She licks her lips and runs the towel over her neck as she squints, trying to get a better view of who's approaching, but she already knows that it'll be better than running laps. Maybe today's the day she stops being so twitchy, after all. Her luck's got to start changing sometime.

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Johanna smiles coyly, enjoying the way she holds his gaze even though he clearly doesn't feel so ready to get naked. Shame. It's why she likes Finnick so much. He's always ready to put himself on display. "Do you do a lot of swordwork, then? I'm pretty handy with an axe, but all sharp points are familiar for me."

"I prefer a bastard sword," Jon said, "Though I've done knives and arrows too. There's just something comforting about the heavy grip of a sword. It feels solid and safe."

"Maybe if you get a knife that's built the right way, after this, you and I can sweat together a little more," she encourages, having been missing someone to fight against properly. "I promise, I won't go easy on you." In fact, she thinks she could earn a little more respect for Jon after a good fight.

"I have the feeling you'd almost rather kill me than kiss me," Jon agreed, laughing a bit. "You're certainly what I'd describe as fierce."

Beautiful, terrifying and fascinating - it had been a while since Jon had encountered all three in one person.

"Don't worry. I don't aim to kill anyone for a while." Right now, she thinks the only blood she wants to spill is if someone comes for her. It's either the Capitol or another enemy, but she doesn't think she's taking a life randomly. She may be sharp and fierce and a killer, but she's not a murderer. "So that leaves the other option," she replies coyly.

"A kiss with a fist, more like," Jon said, giving her an appraising look. She was fierce, this woman, and that warmed his blood like nothing had for a long time. Starks had ice in their veins, or so it was sad, but Jon was having trouble remembering that at the moment.

"If you want my fist in your face after my lips, you just have to ask nicely," Johanna says, sweet as pie as if she's back to being that innocent little girl that she'd faked to save her life. "Like I said. Don't worry. I wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours. You're very nice to look at."

"I've been told I'm prettier than some men's daughters," Jon said, laughing warmly. "It's nice to know that wasn't a false compliment."

He drew a little closer to her in the water, touching her shoulder lightly. "May I kiss you, my lady?"

She holds where she is, her arms draped out in a wide spread and she invites him in with nothing more than a steady lick of her lower lips. "You're very polite to ask," she promises, leaning forward, "but you really don't have to."

"You should always ask a lady her leave to be touched," Jon countered, leaning in and cupping her face in his hands.

"That is how you know she truly wants you."

He's polite, too. Well, maybe she can break him in a little better, but that leaves a second impression to be seen. Still, when he does that gentle little face-cupping crap, she pounces, lunging forward to kiss and bite, trying to guarantee that he's not walking away without marks.

She was fierce, this Johanna, and it just made Jon want her even more. He had never had much use for the fine ladies whose fathers were trying to make matches for Robb and, instead, had always liked the girls with a bit of spirit and spite in them.

Jon wound his hands in her hair and kissed her back, trying to meet her fury with his own.

He needs to be more aggressive, but Johanna figures if he's not going to do it without a little coaxing, she can help out if that's what's holding him back. She bares her lip, grinning as she uses more teeth, biting on his lower lip as she pounces to pin him against the other side of the hot tub.

Finnick would just say this is why she hasn't got herself a boyfriend. He wouldn't be wrong.

It was violent and a little messy but Jon was all right with that. He had a lot of pent up feelings from denying himself something just like this for well over a year now. He gripped her wrists tightly and pushed back against her, splashing water out of the tub.

If she wanted aggression, she would get it measure for measure.

She tips her head back with unrestrained joy, cracking her neck back and forth as he pins her back, exposing her neck in a way that might be seen as dangerous and suicidal to anyone that knows the arena and knows of the risks they take. He doesn't, though. He doesn't even know who she is, what she's done.

"That's a good boy," she compliments, in a low coaxing tone.

Jon felt like he should possibly be offended at being praised like a dog but he wasn't. Not when he was this wound up and this close to actually releasing some of the tension he'd carried for so long.

When she tipped her neck back, he scraped his teeth along the length of it, not caring if he left marks. He hoped he did, actually.

It still wasn't enough, but Johanna felt like she could get a little further. "Lean back," she insists, her eyes aflame with need as she grabs hold of his shoulders to take advantage again, climbing into his lap and holding himself above him, not sinking down just yet. "And say when," she adds.

Jon leaned back and closed his eyes, bracing himself for just how good it was going to feel after so long.

"Now. I need you now."

Johanna twines her fingers into his hair and grabs tightly to guide her as she sinks down, right onto his cock. "You feel good," she exhales, already feeling the tension start to bleed out of taut muscles where she's been holding it in for so long.

"Better to please my lady with," Jon said, gripping her hips and holding her in place. "It's been a long while for me. I would say be gentle, but. Neither of us particularly want that, do we?"

"Only if you plan to disappoint me," is her honest, bared answer, digging her fingers into his shoulder to get a better grip, bending her head over to suck a mark into his neck when the prospect of leaving marks appeals to her so very much. If he has to walk around hiding it, then so be it.

And if he lets it stay visible, then even better.

"I never disappoint," he assured her, letting out a low groan at the feel of her teeth.

"Going to mark me up from one end to the other?"

"I like a little roughness." She likes proof of what she can do. She digs her nails into his back and rides down a little harder than before, laughing breathlessly and wildly, her eyes a blaze of satisfaction and glory as she works him into giving her a good time. "You can do it, too."

Jon sunk his teeth into her shoulder as a response, bucking his hips up underneath her. This was an outlet for a stress he didn't know that he carried and as random as it was, he hoped it could happen again and again.

For now, though, he was content to live in the moment.

She wraps her arm around his neck to shift her angle, working to ride a little slower and prolong the feeling, clenching around him as she slides her fingers through his hair, pleased and determined, refusing to let anything stop her from enjoying this.

"Can you still think?" she gets out breathlessly. "If you can, we're not doing enough."

I want you bad

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