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celestialspecial · 10 months

Text

Blood Rush

Warnings: Mentions of Blood/ 18+ themes

The pounding beat of the music seemed to reverberate down to the earths mantle. An intense light show swam across the crowd lighting them up in vivid reds and blues, purple tones intermingling on the dance floor.

The entire club was packed to the gills, heat, sweat, and sounds drowned together in one large overwhelming assortment. The entire establishment felt like it was shaking down to its foundation from the pounding bass.

So many warm bodies all in one place. Billy let his eyes close as he leaned over the side of the railing looking down at the crowd. If he focused he could pick out conversations going on all around him.

He didn’t need to strain, no, to their human ears they had to yell. His pale hands gripped the metal pole tighter as he sniffed into the heavy air. Filled with so many different fragrances. Perfumes, sweat, the stench of sex even emanated from a few of the private vip booths.

A lilting soft scent wafted over his nostrils. It was airy, sweet but not overpowering. Whatever it was had his mouth watering. It was blood. But not just any.

He let his sixth sense drift outwards, hoping to pinpoint exactly where the smell was coming from. Ignoring the ache in his stomach, hungering for whatever delicious morsel was unknowingly going to become his next meal.

The next song started and the strobe lights flickered over the packed interior. He could feel the pulse from the DJ booth, the whole floor felt like it was moving as people jumped up and down.

In his earlier days this place would’ve drove him mad. The bursting colors, unconfined smells, the droning music. And the thirst for blood. He would’ve gone mad.

Now it was the only place he could zone out. Far removed from reality. The one place he could fade into the background and pretend. Pretend he wasn’t what he was.

You could feel the buzz start to wear off as you downed your next glass of water, the sweat streaking across your forehead. You brushed at the strands stuck to your face in a futile attempt to cool down.

You could see some of your girl friends still out on the dance floor, the vodka had in fact, helped them dance better. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous penis headbands two of the them wore.

Then Cassie in her short white dress with a ridiculously large sash starting “Same Dick Forever.” The micro veil now very askew on her head.

“…and three waters please.” You smiled at the bartender. You were doing your best to be the mom friend by drinking less but you knew there was no way to get the group back to their respective apartments if you had to drag them.

Another surge of that intoxicating scent rose up from beneath him, this time a little stronger. It had Billy, craning his neck this way and that searching for its source.

Outlined in his enhanced periphery he could see another two or so vamps sniffing into the air as well. Red eyes threading through the crowd greedily.

I don’t think so.

This catch was his. If only he could find them.

“Awwww is this for me?!” Izzy slurred taking the water from your hand. You watched half of it spill onto the dance floor as she regained her balance from holding the cup.

“Yes. Waters all around! Drink up!” Passing the other cups out to your friends and watching them sip something non-alcoholic.

You couldn’t help but giggle, smacking a palm to your forehead as Cassie took a long swig then made a face, realizing it was actually just water.

“What gives?!”

“It’s 3 am, and I promised your fiancé I’d have you home. In one piece.” You emphasized the last part, knowing that would get Cassie to relent.

“Ughhhhh fine.” But she was smiling, her eyes still significantly glazed.

“Alright, bathroom break then one more dance until our Uber is here.” You corralled them off to the side as you whipped out your phone, scanning the latest price increase from Uber and Lyft.

It was more than you wanted to pay but you needed to go home, and there were so many people leaving the clubs right now.

After hitting confirm you could feel it. A cold pin prick crawling up your spine. A quick glance around and you realized no one was touching you, but it felt like it.

All you could see were groups of people dancing as magenta light poured over the establishment in waves. No one.

Izzy said something to Meg and Cassie chuckled but it was all muffled to you. A loud pounding in your ears, your heart rate kicking up a notch.

What the-?

Then you looked up to the balcony where the vip booths and other dancing patrons occupied. A man was staring down at you.

Black eyes and raven hair. Pale skin that absorbed whatever new flash of color the strobe lights were sending out. He didn’t blink as you continued to stare at him.

He was handsome. Not the usual handsome you liked, but a cold almost threatening kind. Jaw set on edge and slicked back hair, almost too uniform to be in a club.

The discomfort in your chest growing with each second neither of you looked away. You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweat drenched hair aside, praying a cool wind from one of the fans would wipe away the cold sweat gathering on your skin.

His nostrils flared and you stumbled backwards, knocking into Izzy and the rest of her untouched water toppled to the floor.

“Hey! What gives?”

“We need to leave now.”

“Why?” Cassie asked, sobering slightly at the hint of panic in your voice.

“There’s a man up there watching us.” You turned to point but he was gone. You brows drew together. “What the fuck?”

“Oooooookay. How many shots did you do while getting us waters?” Cassie giggled, nudging you with her shoulder.

“None I swear, I just-“ a small beep from your phone rang out, “driver is now arriving. Ok guys, we gotta get out of here.”

It was no small task getting the rest of the bachelorette party out, more like herding cats, but you did it as quickly as possible sparing a few extra glances over your shoulder in the process.

Billy had pushed away from the railing and was descending the curved stairs down to the first floor. The second he’d spied the girl below he knew it had been her he’d smelled.

Was he planning to kill her? Suck the blood from her body like he originally intended? Why did he feel like that was no longer an option?

Her wide eyes had pinned him to the spot, and an arousal grew within him, the feeling he got when a hot meal was within reach and something else. Something that brought him pause.

The other vamps hadn’t located the exact scent yet so he needed to move before they noticed him gone. There was something delectable about whatever blood ran through that girls veins.

Untainted, pure. Not pure in the traditional sense of white dresses and sacrifices to volcanos, but something deeper. Bloodlines dating back centuries could give off smells unlike anything else.

Reaching out Billy could practically hear her thrumming pulse calling to him through the darkened club. He licked his lips imagining sinking his fangs into that soft skin, her scent overwhelming him.

Drinking deep, that lifeblood coating his tongue. There were so many vital arteries he could choose from. He ached to bite into her thigh, tasting the sweat on her skin in the process.

A roiling in his stomach set him on edge, only this time it wasn’t from hunger.

Some bouncer pushed past him, shouldering Billy to the side and for the first time since he was turned, Billy stumbled.

Catching the wall only at the last moment. Placing a steadying hand on the bricks to his side, leaning against the cool stone.

A hand shot to his forehead as he felt a shooting pain streak across his vision.

What in hells name?

The Uber pulled up as best it could to the crowded sidewalk. A Prius, way smaller than the picture had looked on the screen of your phone.

Izzy tripped on the curb sliding into the backseat followed closely by a hiccuping Meg. Cassie grabbed the passenger’s side door before stopping.

“Wait, there’s not enough room.” She squinted into the vehicle. You licked your lips, begging your brain to think of another plan.

“Sorry ladies, my cup holder doesn’t go up in the back. Damn things stuck, supposed to get it looked at next week.”

The man gestured to the back seat where sure enough the cup holder had dropped into where a middle seat should be.

“We can wait for another one.” Cassie suggested, hand beginning to loosen on the door handle.

It was late and if you waited any longer it’d be $300 for any type of transport and be over an hour wait.

“You guys go. I’ll get the next one.” You didn’t want to, but you were the only one sober enough to use the app and the streets were busy enough while you waited for your ride.

“Are you sure?” She looked hesitant, Izzy was already passed out asleep in the backseat.

“Yes, go. Tell Dan he’s welcome.” You tried to smile reassuringly but it felt forced.

Cassie noted the struggle in your voice but before she could push back, you opened the door and gently nudged her inside.

“Text me when you get home!” She shouted through the lowered window as the car pulled away.

Shit.

Your fingers felt stiff as you tried desperately to find another rideshare, hell you’d pay through the nose for a cab at this point.

Then you felt it again. That icy sensation tingling along your spine and up your neck.

Whirling around all you could see was throngs of people rushing past into cabs, or onto the next bar that was open.

A swirling mass of coats, hats, vibrant clothes in the hustle and bustle and then a flash of white. A pale face. A familiar face.

The man who’d been looking down at you from the club. People moved in and out, obscuring your vision of him but there he stood.

You willed your feet to move, but your body betrayed you in every sense of the word. Run. Move. Anything.

He was moving towards you now, each movement fluid and calculated. Why hadn’t you just shoved yourself into that damn car with your friends?

What had possessed you to just…not get in?

Somehow the neurons in your body started firing again and you were able to turn tail and run. Bolting as fast as you could down the sidewalk. Weaving in and out of groups of people.

Where the hell were you going? It didn’t matter, you just needed to move. To get out of there as fast as possible. Your sneakers splashing through a puddle as you rounded a corner.

A small convenience stores lights called to you from just a little ways away. You could get in there and call for help. Call the police.

Your arm began reaching out even before you could realistically grab the door handle. Fingers stretching, so close!

Then a hand shot out, grasping your wrist and tugging you into the dark alley to the side. You tripped over your own feet, tumbling to the ground, skirt catching on the rusted edge of a dumpster.

The vice remained on your arm, but now laughter accompanied it.

“Well aren’t you a sweet little thing?” A large hulking man hovered over you, bald, with a stained shirt, beady eyes that seemed to glint red in the moonlight. He smelled sour, a thumping in your chest increased.

As if he could hear the uptick in your heart rate he chuckled to himself. Sniffing the air, bear paw of a hand holding you tightly.

“You smell delicious.” You shuddered understanding the implications, tugging your wrist even though it was futile.

“Let me go!” You screamed even though you were sure no one could hear you.

“Not a chance precious.” He grinned, an evil look danced across his face, mouth parting and then you could see two glimmering white fangs. Elongating before your very eyes.

Then you knew this was it. It was over. You wouldn’t get to see Cassie get married, see Izzy get her graduate degree, you’d never buy your own house or settle down yourself.

Your eyes squeezed shut waiting for the end. But then you heard a shout and suddenly your wrist was freed and the man before you was rolling across the pavement.

His own attacker on top of him, the sounds of a scuffle and tearing flesh.

You crawled off to the side, your fingers felt numb against the cold pavement. You could hear the brawl happening to the side of you but you tried to ignore it.

Instead attempting to lift your body up, willing your knees to stop shaking so you could stand. So you could run.

A shout rang out, bouncing off the enclosed space and the bald man stumbled back a few paces. A huge hand grasping the side of his neck where blood was shooting out in spurts.

That ice water chill shot through your veins once more, the dark haired man stood back facing you, panting. His shoulders rising and falling underneath his stained hoodie.

The other man, no- vampire, pulled back eyes darting to yours.

Narrowed as if second thinking his retreat but the snarl that came from your protector-reassured the idea that leaving was the best idea.

The words froze in your mouth, was thank you enough? Could you even form a coherent thought right now? Heart still racing.

The dark haired man looked back at you and the shudder that ran through your body nearly knocked you back to the ground.

Blood soaked the front of his sweatshirt and smeared along his mouth. A mouth that held two sharp canines, equally covered in red.

His eyes looked wild, scratches marred his clothing from the fight. A lump in your throat tightened watching the drop of blood drip from his mouth into a puddle at his feet.

You felt along the wall to your side, desperate to stabilize yourself and begin running again.

You weren't sure how, maybe he could read thoughts, you'd never met a vampire before. But he was on you in less than a blink.

His hands gripped your biceps, pushing your back into the wall behind you. His eyes were so black you couldn’t see the pupil, but when the light caught on them from a passing cars headlights you swore they were red.

Your body was frozen to the spot, limp in his grasp.

“Why do you smell so goddamn good?” He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, snarling against the heated skin.

His scruff scraping against you, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up the column of your throat.

The noise that escaped your mouth must have pleased him, because you could feel him muffle a sound of amusement against you.

Billy had been a vampire for so long now, years of practice controlling his hunger and urges but this girl seemed to unravel all that.

If he’d been newly turned he would’ve torn into her throat without a second thought. Allowing the hot blood to flow unencumbered into his mouth.

It took almost all his control to not just bite and drink all that he could. Pulling back, his once slicked back hair now falling into his face.

Framing his pale skin and dark blood red eyes, fangs protruding as he huffed a laugh at her expression. He must’ve been quite a sight. Torn from the pages of horror comics.

Her heart was thundering in her chest, those gorgeous eyes wide and beautiful full lips parted in fear but, hell, what would they look like parted in ecstasy?

Billy could feel his pants becoming tighter just at the thought. No. He needed a taste. Something to whet his appetite, nothing lethal.

His thumbs rubbed at the exposed skin on her arms where he held her firmly in place.

“Please let me go.” She stammered, it was soft, pleading. It tugged at a long forgotten part of him that remained from his time as a human.

It almost worked.

“No I can’t do that. Not yet.”

Leaning in Billy kissed the side of your neck. Sucking a long slow spot where your shoulder met in a delicate crease. Another delicately placed kiss to the clavicle, working his way up to nip at your ear.

Your treasonous body relaxed into his grasp, turning to soft putty under those strong hands that still held you in place.

His eyes fell shut, smothering a groan against your skin as he could smell your own arousal dampening between your legs.

Why was this girl making things so much harder for him?

Some vampires chased their prey, claiming the fear and adrenaline pumping through their victims bodies was the closest they could get to a high they had experienced as humans.

Billy disagreed. Pleasure tasted so much sweeter than fear. That metallic tang was pleasant when you were a newbie. A fresh kill that had you feeling dangerous and all powerful.

But desire? Lust? There was no comparison. It trumped all other emotions flooding the system when he fed. It made him feel truly alive and lulled his generous donors into a blissful relaxed state.

In a swift movement, he had your hands pinned overhead. Holding them tight against the brick wall. He was so close to you now, his breath scattered the few stray strands of hair that had fallen over your shoulder.

A strong muscled leg inched between your own, spreading them apart millimeter by millimeter. You bit your bottom lip so hard it drew blood.

Dark eyes immediately darted to your face, sniffing the air once. All while keeping both your hands pinned with his inhuman strength, the other hand drifting to capture your chin.

Holding it in place before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You cursed yourself as shockwaves of pleasure soared through your bloodstream. Both of you moaning at the sudden sensations.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The man before you pulled back at that. Eyes that had been fixed on your lips now lazily drifting over the rest of your face before making contact with your own.

His thumb grazed your lip that was now swollen from where he’d sucked the rivulet of blood free.

“No.” He paused, as if to say something else but then thought better of it. At that you felt your body relax, sinking against his raised leg.

His knee rose further up, pressing into you firmly enough you gasped at the contact. He bounced it higher, your sneakers scraping desperate for purchase onto the ground, but they no longer made contact .

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to have some fun with you.”

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

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Teeth

Part 14

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst by the buckets.

'We should talk.'

'I'd rather not.'

It's been two days.

Two days since you've been in his presence, avoiding every mention and sight of him, making yourself as scarce as possible.

Two days since you kissed him.

Your body heats up at the memory. The way he grabbed you, held you close, returned your feverish kisses with some of his own.

You look down at your phone, swallowing when you see the read receipts light up on the message you just sent.

In true Billy fashion, he doesn't respond.

What a fucking pain in the ass, you think angrily.

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto your desk and throwing yourself into your work.

This time, you're not worried about possible fallouts, he'd definitely kissed you back, right?

Fuck, what a kiss. Your toes curled at the memory, a spot deep inside you aching, emphasizing the emptiness inside of you.

It was too much, the knowledge of what his mouth tasted like, the feel of his passionate hands on your body.

How could you ever hope to forget that it had happened? Did you even want to?

The answer was no.

You didn't want to forget it, and you didn't think it was a mistake either.

But it definitely wasn't a good thing.

Especially now, when your relationship had grown more strained in the last two days.

Friendship, what a dumb word.

If you weren't still upset with him, you'd probably go back up to his office and grip him by his stupid tie once more.

You think about kissing him again, kicking one leg over his hip, grinding your body against his. Maybe you'd slip between his legs and pull his thick cock out of his pants-

You gasp, blinking back into reality, aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for minutes now.

You swallow, clicking the document away with a sigh.

You toss your head back in your chair, take a small stretch, try to remind yourself why you were mad at Billy.

Right, he was too indecisive. One moment he holds you close and tells you the most amazing things, the next he's avoiding you.

If you followed through on any of your fantasies with him, there was a high chance that he'd ghost you afterwards.

He probably just didn't like you as much as you'd hoped.

It was a painful thought.

He was watching you.

Like the world's biggest creep.

Billy didn't completely understand why you were angry with him, but it was killing him inside. He needed to know, he needed to fix it.

It had been two days and he hadn't seen you in person since. You'd become very good at avoiding him.

The absolute torment of seeing you everyday to not at all and all he had was the memory of a kiss that still made his lips tingle and his cock hard.

Now, the only way he could see you was on the little camera feed tucked into a corner wall of the office workspace area.

The camera quality was grainy, really just put in and not monitored unless there was an issue.

Billy had opened the feed five times in the last two days.

It was getting ridiculous, he didn't want another day to go by without trying to talk to you. You'd given him a rather clear message to leave you alone, but he couldn't, not after knowing how hurt you were, and definitely not after he found out how sweet your mouth tasted.

Like fucking strawberries.

He needed to make amends.

You regret not going out tonight when Amy had offered. You could have been at a nice bar right now, sipping on a fancy margarita, laughing with your friends.

But you’d turned them down.

Why the fuck had you turned them down?

Friday night, and you’d just decided to take a bath and lie in bed.

It wasn't so bad, you reasoned, you only wished you were with them because you were in bed. If you'd been at the bar, you'd be sitting there, wishing you were here instead.

You smile, your therapist might praise you for becoming that level of self aware.

When there's a knock at your door, you raise your head in surprise.

Logically, it could only be one person. The one with the appropriate security clearance to make it up to your door without you being informed beforehand.

You take a deep breath, wondering what he would possibly want to say to you at a time like this.

You’re greeted with flowers.

You see them before you see his face, pink and white tulips, wrapped in a rustic brown paper and some thread that’s looped tightly around your chest just comes loose at the sight of him.

What did you address him as now? William? Mister Russo? Billy? What did you call your boss that you’d kissed in a heated rush in his office during working hours?

“Hey.” Is all you end up saying.

He says your name in greeting, looking down at the bouquet in his arms for a second.

“May I come in?”

May he? Was this a good idea?

You nod, pulling your door wider and sidestepping to let him in.

“Is there… something I can help you with?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He comments, avoiding your eyes.

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” You agree.

He finally turns to look at you, something unnameable in his eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

You give him a smile of apology, eyes drifting to the tulips still in his arms.

“Those for me?”

He nods, extending them out to you.

Your hands brush as you take them, turning away from him to find a place for them.

“They’re beautiful,” You state, “How did you know they were my favourite?”

"I didn’t.” He says, the awkwardness between you is as palpable as if it were a third person standing in the room.

He's silent as you take your time, searching for the appropriate vase to put them in. You press your nose to them and hum happily as the soft petals touch your cheek.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer, turning to him.

He swallows.

"No. Why are you avoiding me?" He presses, going straight to the point.

You grin quietly into the flowers.

"I feel like you avoided me first." You hedge the question, looking eagerly at him for a response.

He looks a little irked, looking away from you and taking a deep breath, pretending to study your apartment.

"That's what this is about?"

"In part, you just kind of piss me off in general."

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment, still not meeting your eyes.

"Well this is confusing, considering that you kissed me." He challenges.

You wanted to rage at him, curse his stunning looks and captivating personality for pulling you into him, and this mindset of affection toward him.

Instead you suck in a breath.

"I feel like everytime we get close- as friends- you just… you pull as far away from me as humanly possible."

You let out a long sigh, leaving the bouquet of tulips in their spot on your kitchen counter, moving to plop onto your couch in a dramatic flourish.

You grab one of your throw pillows, setting it in your lap and squeezing tightly.

“Of course I’m avoiding you,” You continue, “I’m just expecting you to pull away again.”

You look at him for a moment, as he takes in your words. You can almost watch him process them, eyelids fluttering as he maybe debates internally.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, coming to sit beside you on your couch. His eyes are earnest and warm, and it takes you by surprise.

You honestly doubted he’s said those words to many people.

“I push you away, I do, when I first offered you the job, you said that you weren’t interested if I was only doing it to get involved with you.”

He swallows, he looks so nervous that your heart almost breaks for him.

“I just didn’t want you to think that was true.” He continues, “You’re a good employee, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to, and I find that very dangerous.”

“Billy.” You say in a measured tone, waiting for him to stop avoiding your gaze and look at you directly.

“I believe you. You’ve made it very clear that you think I’m good for the job and I respect that.”

You can feel something shift between you, the animosity turning into understanding.

“I want to know you better too.” You finish, voice soft, earnest.

He blinks quickly, looking away. You can’t help your body’s response to him, the memory of his mouth on yours sparking up ill-timed tingles.

“I don’t want anyone devaluing your work because we’re close.” He responds.

Chest constricting, you smile sadly.

“I- that means a lot to me. But, people will find any excuse to do what they want. I just want to be true to myself and let the pieces fall where they have to.”

He looks at you, the corners of his mouth pulling subtly upwards.

“So, you forgive me then?”

You reach for his hand, covering it with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze.

“Of course I do.”

He turns his hand upward, interlocking your fingers, eyes drifting down to look at your joined hands.

Tingles spread from where he touches, moving from your arm all the way up to your chest. You gulp, looking at him, studying his face, remembering the kiss.

That damned kiss.

You watch him take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. It’s a long and heated moment and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t pull back.

You don’t know who moves, or if you both do, like magnets being pulled into each other, a force of attraction that cannot be seen with the bare eye, cannot be felt by anyone else other than you.

He’s so close that your noses almost brush. You can feel his warm breath dancing across your skin in little puffs.

"We, we um," You try to focus on anything other than his lips, looking into his half opened dark eyes as you try to speak, "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No?" He asks softly, a little tilt of his head and you watch his eyes drop to your lips, "Why's that?"

"Because..." You trail off.

Because I can't keep myself in control around you, you want to say.

Instead, you close the distance between your bodies, leaning in to kiss him.

A low sigh leaves the back of your throat as your lips meet. You feel your stomach flip happily at the reunion of your mouths.

He groans, the vibrations tingle against your lips, his large hand rising to cup your jaw, warm thumb stroking over your cheek.

You move closer, till you're almost in his lap, your fingers twitch nervously as your hands rest on his chest, sliding their way up into his hair.

You try to fight the urgency, the impatience scratching at the back of your head to just take and take and take.

Your lips part, gently tracing the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip for only a second before pulling back.

He makes an abrupt sound, drawing back suddenly, breaking the kiss. His movements are so surprising that you lean away from him and allow him the space to stand.

Your heart squeezes as you look at his back.

You're almost afraid to ask.

"Is everything okay?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment, raising a hand to rake through his hair.

"Yes, just wanted to check- are you sure about this?"

You blink.

"Yes, I am... are you? It's okay if you don't like me that much, we can stop."

He spins around as if you've said something positively absurd.

"Like you? You think I don't like you?"

You look down sadly, smoothing a hand over your knees.

"Well, yeah, you, you dismiss me sometimes as if you're not interested. It can come across as dislike, or even a little mean."

"Mean?" He says, taking long strides to stand before you, your head tilting down to follow his form as he kneels before you.

He looks at you for too long, and you have to look away or melt into a puddle under the pull of his dark eyes.

Carefully, he raises his hands to cover yours, smoothing over your skin with the tips of his fingers.

"When I'm around you, I'm usually using every ounce of strength I have to stop myself, to hold back so that I don't scare you off."

He swallows, tilting his head, his eyes locked on your joined hands.

"I want so many things, and you most of all. I've just been shit at showing it."

"You really have." You agree.

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

You raise a hand, cupping his cheek softly, thumb exploring the pout of his lips, the scratch of his beard.

His eyebrows draw together, he leans in, rubbing his bearded cheek into your hand.

"I'm worried," He whispers, "That I won't be able to stop."

"I trust you." You say to him softly, reaching up with your other hand to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt.

"And I don't want you to stop."

You pull him in then, his body pressed to yours as you seal your lips together in a heated rush. Your body trembles with the sensation of having him all around you, so close like he's the layer of air surrounding you.

His hands cup your cheeks, blunted fingers gripping tight, daring you to be apart from him for more than the space of a breath.

Your insides unfurl with something akin to delight, your toes curl. You lean into him more, accepting anything he's willing to give, and answering with desire of your own.

You fight to keep the kiss slow, enjoy the way his mouth moves sinfully on yours.

But it's too powerful, this need you have for him, you want to scratch and claw and submit and surrender and take and it just turns like a tornado in your head until you're biting gently on his bottom lip, tugging on it with careful precision, body pulsing as you hear the low sound that leaves him.

He draws away for a moment looking at you with even eyes.

"You torment me." He whispers, pressing his lips to yours once more, any pretence of slow and careful being thrown out of the window.

You torment me too, you want to say.

He rises, pushing you back until your body lies flat on your couch, and he hovers above you. You keep his mouth firm to yours, fingers tangled in his soft hair, exploring his back and shoulders, and when you part your lips again, jutting your tongue out playfully, you're delighted when you meet his tongue in return.

Your legs on either side of his hips gripping him tight, daring him to pull away from you as he kisses you senseless, your tongues dancing together in wet bliss.

"I could kiss you all night." Billy says between kisses.

You nod, humming in agreement, pulling his mouth back to yours.

Your skin tingles, his careful fingers tracing your cheeks and moving down your neck.

You arch your body against his eagerly, so willing to give every part of yourself to him.

He slides his hand into the space between your arched back and the couch, keeping your body curved into his, your breasts rubbing against his chest, you wiggle your hips in an attempt to ease the near painful ache between your thighs.

You feel his cock then, stiff against his pants, and he groans into your mouth when your hips chase the firm sensation.

He whispers your name against your lips, a warm, broken sound of a man losing control of himself.

"Billy," You gasp, foreheads pressed together, resisting the heat of desire pulsing between your bodies, "I need you."

You feel his entire body shudder.

He nods, nose brushing yours as his lips move away from yours, kissing your jaw instead, and then the curve of your neck.

You cry out, his teeth worrying your skin, scraping against your sanity, soothing with gentle swipes of his tongue.

You feel yourself tremble, and tremble further when he moves down your body, frustrated hands pushing your dress up your thighs so that the bunched fabric settles on your hips.

He doesn't move for a moment, and you raise your head in worry to see him staring at the space between your parted thighs intensely.

"You don't have to." You whisper, misreading the expression on his face.

His dark eyes meet yours, he tilts his head for a moment, before his eyes drop to your clothed cunt once more.

"It's not that." He says, his hands starting at your ankles and sliding their way up your legs, "I've just thought about this a lot."

You bite down on your bottom lip very hard, trying to remain focused, and not beg him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

His hands stop midway between your knees and your ass, and he looks up at you.

"You want this?" He asks.

You almost groan in frustration.

"Yes, yes I really do."

"Tell me."

You gulp.

"Tell you?" You ask, your head too disoriented to focus on what he's asking you to do.

"Tell me you want me to lick your cunt."

A little needy sound leaves you at his words. You clench around nothing, gathering your thoughts for a second before you speak.

"Billy," You finally whisper, "Please, lick my... cunt."

A devilish smile pulls at his lips.

"Of course." He hums, his hands resuming their upward trail.

He grips either side of your underwear and you tilt your hips up, watching him anxiously, trying to read every expression on his face.

You know you're wet, that you've most likely soaked the gusset of your panties with your arousal.

You study him, as he tugs your undergarment off your legs and lays his eyes on your bare center for the first time.

His lips part, eyes dark as he looks at you. You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

Your breath catches as you feel the tips of his fingers graze your wet slit. Your mouth drops open at the gentle sensation.

His thumb finds your clit easily, grazing the swollen bud and you let out a harsh sob, back dropping onto the couch, unable to hold your body up.

"So. Fucking. Pretty." Billy says, so clearly that it makes you ache even more for him.

You groan when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, leaving careless tingles in the wake of his mouth, he kisses his way over your skin, and there's a short moment of pause where you feel a puff of his breath against your aching core before his mouth is on you.

A sweet kiss between your legs, a gentle promise to ease the ache inside you, and then he extends his tongue to slide against your clit.

It's like lightning, the speed at which the pleasure fills you, passing through you, amplifying, with the careful stroke of his tongue.

He groans between your thighs, his first taste of you leading to palms gripping at your thighs, fingers pressing into soft skin to keep you close.

His next lick is firmer, over and over again his tongue swipes over your clit, he makes another low moan, and the next glide of his tongue starts at your entrance and trails up to your clit.

You mewl, hands moving to cover your mouth, then down to cup his hands in yours, any attempt to process the delicious burn of pleasure blooming under your skin.

You sigh his name, you swear he answers with an easy swipe of his tongue.

It’s too much, embarrassingly so because he’s only just begun and here you are- already on edge for him.

Your resistance is futile.

His tongue claims ownership of your most delicate parts.

You never stood a chance.

Panting, your nails clawing at his hands, hearing his low voice hum in bliss between your thighs.

You make another soft groan of his name, it’s all you know, all you can remember in the hazy confines of your mind.

How is his tongue so skilled? How can he kindle you so easily? You are firewood and he’s a spark and now you’re burning just for him.

His beard tickles your thighs, you realised he’s paused his torment to kiss at your skin.

You’re helpless to it.

You can hear each desperate breath you take, it echoes in your ears, and then you let out another whine as he kisses your dripping cunt once again.

Filthy wet sounds as he takes care of you, tantalising groans as his tongue explores between your thighs, mapping places he’s only ever been in your mind.

The inferno rages, and when his lips massage your clit, sealing around it easily, his tongue playing with your swollen bud, you feel feverish with the euphoria.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to tell him, an attempt to get him to understand.

He already does.

Groaning, one hand unfurling from around your thigh to reach his way up your body.

He tugs at your dress, pulling the strap off your shoulder and tugging it as far down as it will go. His tongue doesn’t slow as he pulls at your clothes, until one of your breasts is exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck.” You cry as he cups your hot skin, thumb finding your peaked nipple easily and dancing his thumb over it.

You feel the pleasure arc it’s way down your spine, joins with his tongue, threatens you with pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

You have one brief moment of sanity, where you’re acutely aware that your body is on a precipice, ready to fall at the next touch of Billy’s tongue.

All you can think in that one small moment is, Oh my fucking god.

And then you fall.

Frantic gasps as hot waves of pure pleasure crash over you. You feel the walls of your cunt spasm, clenching rhythmically around nothing. Every movement of your body is involuntary, each tremble and shake is something beyond your control.

Billy keeps the pleasure focused on you, helping you through your orgasm and into barely bearable territory.

He stops his torment when you whimper, pulling his messy mouth from your equally messy cunt, giving your breast another affectionate glide of his hand before pulling back.

You raise your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, watching him lick your arousal off of his lips.

You look at each other for a long moment. There’s that worry in the back of your mind that a clear line has been crossed so severely that it cannot be taken back.

If he has any inkling of your current train of thought, he doesn’t show it, leaning in instead, his fingers gripping your chin softly to keep you close to him.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of the night with my head buried between your thighs.”

Your breath hitches, you clench around nothing.

He smiles, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, observing your rumpled state, your dress pushed up to your hips, one strap falling off your shoulder, exposing your breast. You look like a proper mess where he still looks mostly put together.

You wanted to change that.

You sit up, sliding your body off your couch and standing on shaky legs. His eyes follow your every movement, and when you bunch your dress up, and tug it over your head, you try your hardest not to be shy about it.

He’s seen you touch yourself before, your mind supplies helpfully, it’s nothing to be naked in front of him.

It definitely helps, the reminder that he’s fucked his fist to the sight of you. You stand naked in front of him now, watching his every expression.

His eyes roam your bare skin, your body tingles at the feeling, his eyes as warm as a gentle touch on your skin. There’s just something about the moment, an understanding, a level of appreciation that’s so potent you can almost feel it.

He stands, takes a step in your direction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Billy says, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yeah?” You ask, raising a hand to cup the smooth underside of your breast.

When he takes a step toward you, you take one back. You can tell he’s intrigued by the idea of it, the slow chase.

“Of course you are. You make it hard for me to think when you walk into a room.”

He takes another step, and you mirror his movement.

“That sounds awful. How do you put up with me?” You tease, taking more steps back, slowly guiding him into your bedroom.

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I think about pressing you to the first flat surface and making you mine.”

A shiver of delight goes down your spine.

“Is that why you’re always so mean? Because you’re thinking about fucking me?”

“Obviously.” He answers, before raising his arms above his head and pulling his shirt off in one magnificent display of muscle.

You let out a little squeak at seeing him up close, you almost run toward him, instead of backing away from him.

Even with his shirt off, he looks so magnificently dangerous that you can feel how bad your arousal is for him. His chest is broad and lined with a delicious amount of muscle, his biceps are near perfection, and your body tingles for a taste. A trail of hair from the spot below his navel into his pants makes you flushed with heat. You imagine briefly what is cock is like, remembering absentmindedly the time he assured you that he was bigger than the large dildo sitting in your nightstand.

What makes him more delectable is the scars that cover parts of his body. There are some on his left shoulder, what looks like a bullet hole in his lower abdomen. You gulp, acknowledging the fact that his flaws only make him more perfect, more mouthwatering.

You almost forget that you’re naked, only gasping in surprise when your back comes into contact with the chilled surface of your bedroom door.

He lets out a slow breath, palms pressed to either side of your body, not close enough to touch, but just enough to make you feel trapped, his warm breath on your skin.

“You want this?” He checks in, tilting his head to the side to observe you.

You nod, looking up at him, he nods along with you in a slight mocking manner.

“I want to hear you say it.” He murmurs, his fingertips tracing your shoulder gently, goosebumps on your skin as he works his way down your arm, taking your hand in his.

Your mouth parts in surprise when he presses your hand to the outline of his cock. You can feel the raw size of him, hot and stiff against the palm of your hand. You realise, in the back of your mind, that he really was large- bigger that you’d initially thought.

“Tell me you want me.” He pleads.

You gulp, hands exploring the stiff erection in his pants, your fingers squeezing around the sides to get an approximation of his girth. Your clit aches with just the idea of his size.

“I more than want you, Billy, I need you. Inside me, so deep that I never forget the feeling.”

He nods frantically, unable to hold himself back, he leans in to kiss you.

You throw your arms around his neck and enjoy the slide of your fingers against his hot skin.

He breaks the kiss for a second, lowering himself to grip your thighs. You wrap one careful leg around his hip, and upon his insistence you transfer your weight fully onto him, his hands supporting your naked backside.

You cling to him as he lifts you, desperate, body aching for more and more of his touch.

You’re not sure how he does it, and you have no time to marvel at his strength before he grips your jaw, bringing your mouth back to his.

You sigh, cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching at his beard, feeling the hairs tickle your palms. You melt into his body, feeling him groan as his mouth moves over yours.

He walks you into your room, and you have no care for your surroundings, your hands too busy exploring his back and shoulders and anywhere else you can get your hands on.

He bends, placing you gently onto your bed, his hands rising to cup your cheeks, and then making their way over every inch of your shoulders.

“God, you’re so soft.” He rumbles against your mouth. You gasp when his palms cup both your breasts in his large hands.

“I could just touch you all damn day.”

He’s so talkative now, and you find yourself loving each word that leaves his lips.

“Touch me all day, lick me all night- when am I getting fucked?” You tease, hearing him laugh into your mouth.

“When you ask for it.” He says decisively, pressing you onto your back.

It’s like he can’t leave your mouth, pulling back for a moment, only to draw back to your lips in a heated rush. It makes you laugh, your body readily receptive to him.

He kisses your neck and jaw, electric tingles all over your skin, desperate shivers as he cups your breasts, pushing them together and kissing over them.

You gasp, writhing below him, his mouth on your skin feels amazing, he works his way down and you gasp, your thighs spreading easily when he moves to settle himself between them.

He doesn’t say another word, his tongue reuniting with your clit, swirling careful circles around your heated bundle of nerves. You gasp, arching your back, fingers drifting into your hair.

“Billy!” You gasp, and the vigour of his tongue increases until he’s just flat out making out with your cunt.

Your head swims, pleasure in every essence of your cell and you feel a lone finger drift in careful circles at your entrance.

“Fuck!” You cry, feeling his finger hovering right at your entrance for a long moment. He’s mean, his fingers tormenting you as his tongue licks over your clit at a steady pace.

“Please,” You sob, tilting your hips up, trying to chase the pleasure he’s not yet ready to give.

You try to breathe through it, squirming beneath his body, his hand grips your hip, thumb moving in firm circles to keep you calm.

You shudder in bliss when his finger sinks halfway into you.

It’s not enough, and too much all at the same time. His breath on your mound, his tongue laving lazily at your clit, he curls his lone finger partially upwards, scattering pleasure before withdrawing his finger.

“No,” You cry, “Please please please please fuck me Billy,” Your breath hitches, “I need it so bad.”

You feel him hum, before his finger re-renters you.

“Poor sweet girl.” You think you hear him mumble from his spot between your thighs, and then he begins rocking his finger in you so gently, that it’s almost more of a micromovement than anything. Yet somehow still, he manages to give you pleasure.

“Please please please,” You keep whispering, afraid that he’s going to stop giving you what you need, what you crave for and dream about. He’s every fantasy come to life, tongue rolling over your clit wetly, an easy rhythm of pleasure that he draws out from you leaving no thoughts in its wake.

A broken sound escapes you, desperate, aching, and you think he almost feels apologetic with the way he lines up a second finger against your entrance.

It’s debauchery, the way his fingers feel, broader and longer than yours could ever, makes you feel so insanely full when he carefully pushes two digits all the way into you.

He fills the deepest parts of you, erases any sense of emptiness, makes you forget that you’d ever craved fullness in the first place.

And then his fingers start to move.

Your breath escapes you in a hot rush, mouth dropping open as he starts off slow, painfully slow, rocking his fingers into you, curling them up, making sure you feel every little movement.

His tongue is still playing with your clit, you feel like crying, you’ve never felt this way before.

You say his name, one hand moving from his hair, over to where he grips your hip. You want to hold his hand, and he obliges easily, fingers linking with yours, make you feel so much warmer and safer with him than ever before.

I’ve got you, he seems to say with his actions, go ahead and fall for me.

And of course you do.

Cunt spasming around his fingers, desperate cries leaving your mouth as he winds you up and helps you through your second release.

You whimper, little gasps leaving the back of your throat as your body shudders with the oncoming pleasure. He keeps pumping his fingers into you, and you can almost feel the smile he has on his face, pressed to your cunt. You squeeze his other hand in yours tightly, his thumb smoothing over your skin even then.

When he detaches from your heated centre, you sit up quickly.

You lean into him, pressing your mouth to his frantically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. He tries to help you, one hand trying to work at the button while the other grips the back of your head, but you only get in each other’s way.

You laugh into his mouth as you both fumble, but silently thankful when finally you get his pants undone.

He has to pull away with a grin on his face, climbing off the bed so that he can shove the material of his pants and his boxers off in one go.

You go brainless when you see his cock. Erect and near throbbing, a little bit curved, you feel your mouth water as you stare at the monster between his legs.

He was very right to tell you that he was bigger than your dildo, you swallow nervously, trying to figure out exactly how that was going to fit inside of you.

Your eyes manage to glance at this thigh, you see a deep gouge on the side of his right thigh, you tilt your head in worry wondering what could have caused a scar like that, one that runs from his hip to his knee.

It must have hurt terribly, and your heart aches for whatever malady he’s been through in his past.

You seek to give him pleasure now, crawling on all fours to the edge of your bed, looking up at him for a moment, before dropping your head to suckle at the tip of his cock.

Billy hisses.

The salty taste of his precum fills your mouth. You can’t help humming at the taste of him. Slowly, you begin to bob your head, taking as much as comfortably possible.

His fingers cup the back of your head, slightly guiding your movements with no real force behind it.

“Good girl,” He grunts, guiding your movements, you hear him shudder out a violent breath, “So good for me.”

It makes you even more aroused, to know that you’re capable of returning the pleasure he gives.

Something shifts in the next moment, and he’s pulling his cock from your mouth and encouraging you into a kneeling position on your bed.

Your eyes slip shut as his mouth meets yours, something frantic inside of him now, and you’re eager and helpless to give him what he wants.

Billy can’t fight the predator anymore. The sensation of you sucking eagerly on his cock is too much and his control has slipped beyond his scope of reach.

Your hair is askew as he guides you onto your soft pillows, silk, to protect your gorgeous hair from damage. He pauses to look at you, your obedient eyes, willing to comply with anything he asks and it fills him with an uncontrollable power. The scent of your arousal is thick in the room, the aftertaste of your mouth and your cunt mixing on his tongue until he couldn’t extract himself from you even if he tried.

He hums, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, the heat and softness of your skin filling him with too much want. He’s fighting the predator, that pushes him to claim what was already his, what would be freely given to him if he asks.

His nose brushes your cheek gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Billy asks softly, and you almost want to groan in frustration.

“Yes, please.” You say on a desperate breath, and you feel him kiss your cheek in response.

He takes your left hand in his, kissing at the tips of your fingers and you wonder if after tonight you’d be able to feel the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Fingers intertwined, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he uses his other hand to align his cock with your entrance.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks after a second, and you nod frantically, squeezing his hand and daring him to even think about stopping.

“So good for me.” He whispers against your cheek and then his cock is pressed intimately against your entrance.

He stretches you, and opens you up even further until he’s fit snugly inside of you, filling you so much that you’re not sure how you can breathe with the intrusion.

His nose brushes yours affectionately.

“How do you feel?” He asks, as if you’re capable of assembling any semblance of thought.

Your lips part, you suck in a deep breath, the very first, with his cock pressed deep inside of you.

He waits patiently for the answer.

“Good,” You breathe, “So good, Billy oh my god.” You express.

He gives a sweet little smile that manages to get you even more aroused.

“I’m glad to hear it. Ready for the rest?”

The-?

“What?” You ask obtusely.

“My cock, sweetheart, would you like the rest of it?”

You try to raise your head for some type of explanation but you don’t get very far with his body pinned against yours. His eyebrows draw together at your shocked expression.

“There’s more of you?” You whisper in astonishment.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s laughing, burying his face in your neck and chuckling away as if his cock isn’t the largest thing you’ve ever tried to take.

His laughter is sweet though, soft and lyrical and you can’t help clenching on his cock, and hearing his laughter turn into a groan, squeezing your linked fingers.

“Yes,” He gasps, lost in the tight grip of your cunt, “Yes, there’s more of me.”

Your eyes are wide, a little afraid, anchoring yourself to him in hopes that he helps you through your fear.

“Take a big breath for me sweetheart.” he guides, with a steady, calm voice, nodding his head as you accept his guidance.

“And out.”

You do as he says, and shudder with pleasure as your body relaxes fully, you feel him slide deeper, eyelids fluttering as you discover more and more of him.

Finally, when his hips are pressed squarely to yours, and his cock fills you beyond what you thought you were capable of, does he finally say your name on a heated gasp.

You cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his rough stubble, he closes his eyes and presses his cheek to your palm and withdraws a little.

The first rock of his hips takes your breath away on a frantic sound. You hear him grunt in response, grinding his hips against yours, not moving too much but easily working into you.

“Billy.” You sob, legs tightening around his hips, one hand still linked with his.

He leans down, seals his mouth over yours, rocks into you in slow, lilting movements. You hum against his mouth, feels his body all around you, deep inside of you, holding you hostage and protecting you from everything except himself.

“You take me so well.” He grunts, his hot breath on your lips.

His mouth trails over your cheek, he kisses sweetly at your neck and shoulders.

His pace increases, his delectable body over yours, giving you pleasure that you barely understand.

His hand releases yours for a moment, only to grip both your wrists and pin them above your head, held firm in one large hand.

His grip on your wrist hurts a little, only adds to the pleasure of him fucking you.

He can’t stop kissing you, delving his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth while he claims your body, hips rocking faster and faster into you the more time goes by.

He reaches a depth inside of you that you’ve never felt before, fills you with himself until you’re sure you’re the most whole you’ve ever been.

His cock pumps into you, your cunt is pulsing, sending large waves of immeasurable pleasure up your spine to fill your head. You feel your thighs tremble as the euphoria makes it all the way to your toes.

He keeps that pace, probably noticing the mindless state of you, your inability to form a single word, or produce a sound that isn't a breathless moan. You feel his influence on you in the farthest reaches of your mind, giving you more pleasure than your body can handle.

Finally, the pleasure sweetened even further, and Billy, in tune with your body, speeds the rhythm of his thrusts to match your needs. You gasp, barely able to find the thoughts, your body overflowing with absolute ecstasy and you’re almost afraid of what falling over the edge with him will feel like.

“Good,” He growls lowly into your ear, a sound you’ve never heard before, untamed, unhinged, and he’s using it to give you praise.

“So good for me.”

Your orgasm is involuntary. It’s not yours, only a response written by your body to answer his call. The sheer violence of your bliss takes your breath away, you feel your cunt clench hard around his cock, trapping him securely in place as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through you.

Vaguely, you’re aware of him groaning, but you don’t have the headspace to focus at the very moment. Your arms pinned above your head, his lips kissing at your face and neck, bare nipples grazing his chest and his cock stretching you wide.

Your cunt spasms, your body trembles, and trembles even more when he resumes his fucking, not even waiting for your first orgasm to fully subside before he’s trying to throw you right into the throes of another.

He’s harsher now, and you love it, your body revelling in the way he seems to lose control. He raises his head, you look deeply into his dark eyes. You can’t see much thought behind his eyes either, and you become acutely aware that you might be lost inside each other.

It only makes you that more desperate for him.

There’s no such thing as control anymore.

Billy’s lost any semblance of it, any memory of what it was like to be sane.

He has lost his old self, and he has found you.

All he wants now is to keep you like this, open and vulnerable on his cock for the foreseeable future. Your skin hot with bliss, little sweet cries filling his head.

He leans down, runs his tongue over the top of your breast, hears you gasp, loves the dirty way you love these things, appreciates the salty taste of your skin.

The predator in his head is synced up with him, both aspects of himself agreeing that this is where he belongs, balls deep in his mate, feeling her take everything he has to give.

He feels a completeness, that he can give you pleasure so easily, like his body was made just for you, to please you in every way possible.

He groans again, his voice beyond his control, hoping the low grovel of it doesn’t scare you, but even that makes your cunt squeeze him in satisfaction.

Yours.

He was yours.

He would only ever be yours.

He adjusts the angle of his hips, and he watches your lips tremble and your eyes water when his cock kisses a very sensitive spot inside of you.

You blubber mindlessly, sharp breaths and trembling thighs and you open up to Billy and you take everything he has to give.

You cum with a sharp cry. Eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as you try to process the bliss.

His hot breath on your skin, hips speeding up and suddenly a low grunt escapes him.

You feel his cock pulsing against your hypersensitive walls, you feel his cum, filling up the deepest spots of you and you can’t help the rightness of it.

Eventually, he releases your wrists, still deep inside of you, he braces his weight on his arms so that he doesn’t crush you.

After a moment, his arms wrap around you, adjusting you slowly so that your body rests on his, head on his chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you.

He tries to make you comfortable, the biological urge for him to stay inside of you for as long as possible is something he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know exactly how to control it.

He sighs, his orgasm still going through him, still filling you up though he doubts you can feel such subtle movements.

You burrow into him, and he hums in amusement, arms wrapping around your form, his heart pounding in his chest at how close you are.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, checking in, fingers absentmindedly reaching for the edges of your hair.

“Wrist.” You say groggily, raising your left hand to his face.

“Fuck.” He voices, his eyes landing on the subtle bruises marking your wrist, he can make out the print of his fingers where he’d curled them to grip you tightly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, pain spearing his chest at the very idea that he’d hurt you. He holds your forearm gently, examining the faint bruising.

“Loved it.” You reply simply, he can hear the sleepy inflections in your voice.

He’d hurt you… and you’d loved it?

He makes a mental note to get some ice for your wrist, and to check it in the morning to make sure it’s doing better.

Now, he places a gentle kiss to the little bruise, feeling the abnormal heat of it on his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He says to you.

You hum.

“Loved it.” You repeat.

"How is that? Is that better?" Billy asks, a little towel wrapped around a bag ice cubes pressed to your wrist.

You hum lazily, peeking an eye open to look up at him. You’re on your side, facing him, your left hand between you, bent to be in a more comfortable position.

“Doesn’t hurt.” You mumble, feeling sleep wrap itself carefully around your sated body. Your cunt is sore, quivering still from his use.

“Just a little uncomfy.” You try to explain.

He looks extremely concerned for a brief moment.

“I’m really sorry,” He tries to apologise for the fifth time.

You smile, shuffling your body closer to his, watching him focus on trying to keep his makeshift ice pack on your wrist. You kick a leg over his hip, not liking that he’d taken the time to put his boxers back on after he’d slipped from you earlier to grab the ice.

“Billy,” You murmur somberly, “I trust you, and if I really didn’t like it, I would have said something.”

“But I hurt you. Our first time together and I hurt you.” He says, his dark eyes so open and sad, hints of a frown turning down the corners of his lips.

You smile, your other hand rubbing his bicep and shoulder affectionately.

“I loved every second of it.” You whisper, unable to keep your mind conscious for a second more. You blink slowly, leaning into his body even more, heaving in a great big sigh.

“Please don’t leave.” You ask, as you tumble into unconsciousness.

He leans in, kissing the top of your head, and then your cold wrist, finally understanding that in your eyes, you don’t blame him.

His sweet girl, happy and asleep in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, curling around you, the panther purring inside of him as he falls asleep beside you.

His eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates on your bedside table. He’d pulled it out of his pants pocket and dropped it there on his way to get you ice.

You’ve crawled your way mostly onto his body, your head resting securely on his shoulder, he somehow still manages to be holding the melted ice pack on your wrist that rests on his chest, though he’s not sure if it even makes much of a difference right now.

He’s groggy, not sure if he’s ever been that deeply asleep before, absolutely comfortable, the very right temperature, the scent of strawberries wrapped around him.

He drops the towel- wrapped ice pack onto the floor beside the bed, rubbing his eyes as his phone continues to vibrate.

He reaches for it, pauses for a moment when his movement jostles you. He holds you tight as his fingers wrap around his phone.

He swallows, squints, slides to answer, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake you.

“Russo.” He answers automatically.

“Bill.” Frank says, and it’s all Billy needs to understand that something is very wrong.

“What is it?” Billy asks, “What happened?”

“My boy’s missing.” Frank responds.

You shiver with the cold, tugging your blanket up and over your shoulder and letting out a sigh.

In your sleepy state, the memory of last night comes back to you.

You smile, extending a hand out to reach for the warm body that had been nearby when you’d fallen asleep last night.

“Billy?” You grumble out, when your hand meets nothing but soft pillows.

No answer.

God, you think, if he left this time I am never going to speak to him again.

You peek an eye open, sighing when there is no deliciously gorgeous man lying mostly naked beside you.

A groan slips past your lips, you extend your body out, stretching this way and that and huffing when you accidentally kick one of your pillows off of your bed.

You weren’t going to let your hope plummet just yet, maybe he was just in the bathroom, or the kitchen, maybe he was whipping you up a cup of coffee right now.

You say his name louder this time.

After a moment of no response, you climb out of bed, searching for him, finding your apartment empty of him.

You stand in your living room, trying to reason with yourself, trying to find answers for questions that you could barely formulate.

Was this going to be like the movies? When you’d just lost hope, he would pop in with a breakfast bagel and a latte and apologise for leaving you?

You swallow, going back to find your phone and dialling his number.

Voicemail.

Your throat tightens.

Surely he hadn’t made you sweet promises last night only to break them?

When your second attempt at calling him has the same outcome, your mind spins to a final conclusion.

He’d left you.

Again.

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