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ibelongtowrath · 4 years

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I Forgot To Say “Goodnight” - MLQC Gavin (NSFW)

Summary: It's been a long day of investigating the mysterious illness that seems to be plaguing Loveland. Gavin brings you home, only to be stuck for the night from an impromptu quarantine. Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Gavin x Reader, Gavin x Female Reader (1st person) Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, fluff and smut, eventual smut Word Count: 4,406

Read on AO3

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic, and I had to go big by writing a smut one! I hope you like it!

It’s late, almost midnight, so everything is quiet as Gavin and I walk through the door of my apartment; almost eerily so, adding to the already dismal mood I’ve been in for the past hour. A whole day spent investigating, only to end up with no answers as to the mysterious illness that’s been going around Loveland. People have been falling ill left and right, with seemingly no explanation as to why. Evol powers have been getting out of control lately in Loveland, the amount of incidents skyrocketing exponentially since last month.

Before I enter the door behind Gavin, I steal a quick glance across the hall, and just as quickly, look away and walk through the doorway. It’s been weeks, and not a single word from Lucien.

He might have an idea what’s going on. Lucien...

Suddenly, the memory of his betrayal flashes before me. Raw anger and sadness grip my heart for a split second, and I have to suppress a gasp. The thoughts weigh down on my mind, and I feel a sigh escape from my lips. I can’t think about this now. I can’t.

My eyelids suddenly feel heavy, as though they’re made of bricks, and I’m struggling to keep them open. Giving in to the fatigue, I allow myself a moment of sweet darkness as my lids close slowly. Gavin, sweet, sweet Gavin , catches my arm as I stumble forward.

“Are you okay?” he asks, studying me, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Yeah,” I answer, opening my eyes further. “I’m just...tired.” My eyes meet his, their honey-colored amber hue daring me to get lost in them. He squints slightly, then lets his eyes soften as he relaxes his brow. He releases my arm once I’m stable and standing up straight. I lean against the counter, studying him as he faces me.

“We’ve had a long day. That’s understandable. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”

I nod in agreement. I take a second to admire the way his light brown hair falls messily, but carefully at the same time, across his handsome face. I know he has to leave soon, now that he knows I’m safe.

But... I kind of wish he doesn’t have to leave.

I shake my head furiously at the absurd thought, mentally picturing myself crumpling it into a ball, and throwing it away. I had been dealing with these confusing feelings for a while now; stowing them in the back of my mind, not quite sure how to sort them.

Gavin is always there for me, when I need him most. He’s always ready to rescue me, telling me that as long as I’m in the wind, he can find me. It was difficult trying to reason with myself as to why my heart pounded harder, harder every time I thought of him. I’m always the damsel in distress, and he’s always my knight in shining armor.

I realize Gavin’s still looking at me, and feel the heat of shame rush to my cheeks, even though he has no idea what I was thinking. The dimmer switch is on low, casting a hazy light over the kitchen. I silently pray that the lighting gods have blessed me, and Gavin can’t see the embarrassment written on my face. I wonder if he thinks these things about me ...I cough abruptly, then look up at him.

“Thank y-”

The shrill, ear-splitting sound of a siren suddenly interrupts my gratitude. I instinctively clap my hands over my ears, wincing at the sound. Gavin looks around, assessing the situation calmly. He’s so good at this, and I’m...not. He looks at me, then turns towards the door.

“Stay here,” he demands as he goes to leave the apartment. As he opens the door, the wail of the siren shrieks louder. He steps out the door, and the alarm ceases. I sag in relief. Glancing out the window, I see familiar red and blue lights, flashing brightly against the dim light of the apartment. Gavin turns back around to look at me again, stepping forward, and-

“Attention. Attention. ” A loud male voice stops us yet again. “ Please remain in your respective homes. We are enacting a temporary quarantine until further notice, effective immediately. There is no immediate cause for alarm. Please remain in your home, and do not leave under any circumstances. We anticipate opening the building back up again sometime tomorrow. Thank you.”

What is going on? Is it this serious ? I shake my head. I can’t help but wonder if Lucien is in his apartment, and secretly wish I could ask if he has any idea what’s happening.

I hear the click of a door being closed, my head turning towards the sound, and realize it’s Gavin. He reaches his arm behind his head, gazing towards the floor, an impassive look on his face. It finally hits me, the fact that he is unable to leave, and will have to spend the night. I feel myself blushing furiously again, silently cursing myself for my earlier wish.

Be careful what you wish for, dummy …

I inhale deeply, attempting to control the frenzied chaos of the varied emotions swirling around inside of me. My eyes meet his, and he gives me a reassuring smile.

“Looks like I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll be able to protect you a little bit longer,” Gavin says. I feel a wave of gratitude overtake all the other feelings, and I’m finally able to focus. “Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, returning his smile. “I’m sorry, my couch probably isn’t all that comfortable…” I trail off, because my next extremely intrusive thought slams its way into my head: We could share my bed …

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” There’s that reassuring look again. The way his face softens when he looks at me just about does myself in. Afraid I’m going to suddenly collapse into a pile of bouncy Jell-O on the floor, I force my legs to move to the closet, where I grab a blanket and a spare pillow for Gavin to use. I fold the blanket gently over the couch, placing the pillow on one of the arm rests.

I must look nervous, and I do feel a bit shaky; suddenly Gavin crosses the room just then, and gives me a soft, reassuring squeeze of my shoulder. I startle a bit, then look up at him. A sense of calm comes over me. I truly feel safe whenever he’s with me.

Looking back at the couch, I cough again. “If you need anything else, just let me know. Oh, and, if you need to…,” I trail off again, trying to quell the heat threatening to betray my calm exterior, “you can use the shower. I have plenty of towels in the linen closet, and if you don’t mind smelling like lavender, the shampoo and conditioner are yours to use too. Oh, and there’s a spare toothbrush.”

He laughs, patting the top of my head. “You’re always thinking of everyone else before yourself,” he tells me. “Go to sleep. You need it.”

I look up at him, grinning. “Okay, Officer Gavin.” I salute him, and he laughs again as I walk away towards my bedroom. I open the door, close it gently, then run and collapse onto the bed, a deep sigh escaping me. I feel my eyelids grow heavy again. I’m exhausted, and ready to welcome the sweet, dark embrace of sleep.

A few minutes later, I hear the click of the bathroom door closing, and the swish sound of the shower turning on. Just then, I realize I never actually said “good night” to Gavin, and, being the way I am, it bothers me. I resolve to wait until he’s out of the shower, then tell him. It will make me feel better, especially since I barely got to say “thank you” for always being by my side.

About twenty minutes pass. The water shuts off, and a few minutes later, I hear the bathroom door open. I cross my room, open up the door and walk out. Cheerfully, I pad my way over to the living room.

“I forgot to say goodn-”

Immediately, the sight in front of me causes the part of my brain that controls my speech to fizz out. Gavin is standing in the living room, with only a grey plush towel wrapped around him, sitting low on his hips. His arms are raised, drying off his hair with another towel. The ripple of his strong, muscular shoulders flex with the movement of his arms. Several scars decorate his deltoids, tempting me into tracing their outlines; to feel the stories hidden deep within them. At the sound of my voice, he turns around. He looks surprised, but the look quickly turns into something else that I can’t quite place.

I am absolutely floored, and nearly have to grab the doorway to prevent myself from falling to the ground. The beautiful, intricate muscles I could see when his shirt had accidentally lifted, are finally on full display. His broad, strong shoulders and his chest are still slick with a slight sheen from the water.

His arms are perfectly sculpted, as are his chiseled six-pack abs; they, too, glisten with tiny beads of water, dripping over the taut ridges of his abdomen. Even the muscles around his clavicle are taut and defined; I want to bury myself in his neck and breathe him in.

For a split second, I let my eyes drift down to his low-hanging towel that shows off a delicious, tantalizing line of muscle by his hips; that perfect v-line, driving me crazy, and in the middle of it, I can see the happy trail of fine, light brown hairs that travel from his navel down to where I can’t see...but I wished, more than anything, that I could.

“I, uh, I...I forgot to say ‘goodnight,’” I stuttered. My face is so hot, it feels like it could burst into flames at any moment.

The impassive look on Gavin’s face quickly softens. He relaxes his arms, resting the towel around his neck. He smiles, taking a step towards me.

“You’re so cute.”

Okay, now my face is absolutely flaming . I can only imagine that my skin tone looks akin to a tomato at this point. Quickly, I turn around to retreat back into my bedroom. As I’m turning, I feel Gavin’s warm hand grip my arm, gently forcing me to turn back towards him. Up close, the sight of him is even more disorienting, and I can’t help but look down where the towel is hanging off of him.

Suddenly, his hand moves from my arm, tracing the curve of my neck. He cradles my face in his hand, gently moving my head from its downward position so that I’m looking straight up at him. Our eyes meet, and this close, I can’t help but to fall in deep; deep into those beautiful, honey-colored eyes that I never want to look away from. The only way I can describe the emotion in his eyes is...hungry.

His lips part slightly. His thumb traces over my lips, surprising me with how soft his skin feels. I can smell the relaxing lavender perfume of the shampoo in his hair. I feel myself compulsively leaning into him, our bodies now pressed together. I want nothing more than to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine.

Gavin leans in, lips soft on my neck. He kisses it gently. Slowly, methodically, he kisses my neck again, making his way to my jawline. He gently presses me forward, so that my back is leaning against the arm of the couch. Finally, he presses his mouth to my own, which I part slightly, ready for him. At the touch of his lips, I feel a burst of heat travel down my body, and it feels as though I am blooming under his touch. His lips are surprisingly soft, and I don’t want it to stop.

I bite down gently on his lower lip, and his tongue makes its way to meet mine. I hook my left leg around his waist and he pulls his tongue away, while a soft moan escapes his lips. My arms are around him, and I dig my nails into his shoulders, as if he’s anchoring me to that spot; I don’t want to move, or for him to stop, for that matter. Surely, he can feel the pounding thump, thump of my heart against his chest.

His mouth presses down on my neck again. I feel his hand gently reaching under my t-shirt, gliding along the curve of my waist; the touch sending shivers up my spine. Gavin’s hand travels further up, up, and he cups my left breast, causing a small moan to escape from my lips. I can feel his toweled erection between my legs. My own excitement starts to thrum, and I can feel the arousal drenching my underwear.

At that moment, Gavin pulls away. I feel suddenly cold, the absence of his body on mine almost like a shock to my system. I pant slightly, aching for his touch again. He holds his head in his hands, shaking it furiously.

“I can’t...I’m so sorry,” he says, walking towards the front of the couch. He sits down, still holding his head, which is hanging low. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. God, I…” he trails off.

My legs are a bit shaky, but I make my way over and stand in front of Gavin. He drops his hands into his lap, looking up at me. His eyes widen, and I know he’s drinking in the sight: my lips are pink and swollen, my hair messily falling around my shoulders, and eyes full of desire.

“Gavin...I want you. I need you,” I tell him. He doesn’t say anything as he watches me move towards him. “I don’t want you to stop. Please.” Feeling bold, I don’t let Gavin answer; instead, I straddle him, my legs on either side of his waist. He inhales sharply, then grins, his mood visibly shifting.

He presses himself against me again, and I feel his soft lips against the curve of my right breast through my t-shirt. Every touch feels like sparks igniting on my skin. I feel so powerful in that moment, so bold and sexy. I pull away from him briefly, cross my arms to grip the bottom of my shirt, then lift it above my head and off onto the floor. Gavin’s breath hitches, and I feel his arms reach around my back and onto the hook closure of my bra, undoing it so smoothly I barely feel it come loose.

I let the straps fall off my shoulders, and the bra drops to the floor, my breasts now completely exposed. Gavin puts his mouth to mine again, and I grind my hips against his legs, pushing closer, both our bare chests now pressed together.

The fire returns, shooting straight from my heart down to my hips, and landing between my legs. The desire I feel burns deep; all I can think about is Gavin and his body, and I feel his hardness pressing against me again, which only helps to stoke the fire within. His mouth travels downwards towards my breasts again, while he stops along the way with short, tender kisses against my hot skin.

His right hand caresses my left nipple gently as his lips make their way down, and I groan. Then, I feel his lips on my right nipple, his tongue flicking at it gently, and I shudder slightly with the pleasure of it, small goosebumps forming on my skin. I lose track of time, with no idea of how long we’ve been pressed together like this; eventually, Gavin pulls away from my breasts and makes his way back to my lips, his tongue meeting mine again, hot and heavy with lust, almost greedily.

Gavin leans back then, pulling our bodies apart, and I look at him. The yearning, raw desire written all over his face is so satisfying. I hold his amber gaze steadily, and he leans in towards me, mouth next to my ear. He nibbles lightly on the lobe, making me bite my lip to hold back a whimper. Suddenly, he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he places me on the kitchen counter.

“How badly do you want me?” he whispers, his voice husky, leaning into me, asking the breathy question directly into my ear. His breath tickles deliciously. The throbbing heat and desire between my legs won’t stop growing, and I can feel how wet I am with the anticipation.

“I could tell you,” I purr, my voice dripping with honey, “but it would be much easier to show you.”

I take his hand and guide it under my soft shorts, letting his fingers hook gently underneath my underwear. Gavin’s breath hitches again, and his fingers venture in further, gently massaging me. The fire is now an inferno, impossible to put out. Then he slides two fingers inside of me, and I cry out in pleasure.

“Mph!” My moans are muffled by his tongue on mine. Gavin’s fingers curve upwards and down, in a come-hither motion, and I lean back on both my elbows onto the counter; my back arching, my body writhing in the thrill of it. I pull him closer to me, and he leans into my neck, biting the skin gently and sucking. I move my hips along with the rhythm of his fingers, and the delicious mix of pain and pleasure drives me to the edge. I cry out again as the orgasm shudders through me, my nails raking across the skin of Gavin’s shoulders.

I come back down, breathing heavily. Gavin removes his fingers from inside of me, and I grab his hand, sucking on his fingers with my tongue, tasting myself. I’m so hungry , hungry for more of him; more of his touch that sears my skin. At that moment, he tugs my shorts down my hips, taking my panties with them. They drop to the floor, and he looks at me then, taking in the sight. It’s a gaze filled with such raw desire, and he swallows, all thoughts of the self-control he was trying to have earlier completely erased at the sight of my pretty pussy on full display, the evidence of my arousal dripping down my thighs.

I let my hand trail the fine hairs of his lower abdomen, retreating into the towel still somehow wrapped around his hips. He’s rock hard, and I wrap my fingers around his dick gently, teasing them down the shaft until my thumb circles the head, caressing it lightly. I repeat this a few times, feeling the slick wetness of his pre-cum on my finger. I grin, and Gavin moans into my neck.

“Wait,” he groans, and backs away. “Not here.”

I can’t help but look at him in that moment, his breathing labored, desire wild in his eyes. I hop off the counter, my legs a little unsteady. I take Gavin’s hand in mine, and lead him into my bedroom, the lights still off. Out of habit, I pull the door closed, even though I live alone. The window is open slightly, a warm breeze caressing our bare skin as we walk towards the bed.

Gavin sits on the bed, grabbing my hips and pulling me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him again. He finally undoes the towel knotted around his hips, and his cock springs out as the fabric pools underneath him. I grab him again, stroking him gently, smiling devilishly at the delicious feeling, knowing I’m doing this to him. Suddenly, Gavin stands up, lifting me with him, and gently lowers me down onto the bed, spreading my legs with his knee.

“You came already, but I'm feeling generous, so I’m going to give it to you again,” Gavin coos. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, but all I know is that I want him, desire him in a way I’ve never felt about anyone else. He presses his mouth to my navel, planting kisses as he makes his way down the contours of my body. His lips leave a trail of fire down my abdomen.

His lips graze my inner thigh, and again on the other side. My pussy throbs with the anticipation. The feeling of it is so delicious, so tantalizing, I hunger for more. I feel Gavin’s tongue between my legs, licking and sucking my clit ever so slightly, driving me wild with the pleasure of it.

He pulls his tongue away, replacing it with his fingers. His thumb begins to circle my nub, and I cry out. His fingers find their way back into my pussy, and they plunge in and out of me. His tongue resumes its rightful place licking around my clit at the same time. I feel the orgasm start to crescendo, and instinctively buck my hips against Gavin’s face. He hooks an arm around my leg, holding me down, not missing a beat of pleasure. I relax my body, and as I reach the climax, I feel a gushing between my legs.

“Gavin!” I cry out. I lose control then; legs shaking, my body nearly spasming with the orgasm, arching my back, and then pitching my body forward. My legs still parted, Gavin comes up, then leans forward and presses his dick against me. My legs are still shaking, and I’m so, so wet. I can feel the fluid dripping down the bottom of my thighs.

“Good girl,” murmurs Gavin into my neck. His dick presses harder against me. He thrusts into me then, filling me up with himself, and I gasp at how big he is. I’m so wet, so ready to take him in, that it doesn’t hurt; just a slight pressure, and it feels so good. He begins to thrust back and forth, leaning over me, lips pressed against my neck, groaning softly. I arch my back and he lifts my hips up, making the angle deeper.

My arms are around Gavin’s neck, and I thread my fingers into his soft, still slightly damp hair. He continues slamming into me, moving his mouth down lower as he does, tonguing my nipple. The feeling has my blood thrumming with the pleasure of it, my entire body electrified; then, suddenly, he pulls out. He’s panting heavily, raking his eyes over my body as I’m in this compromised position. He leans over me, stroking my face gently; a gesture that doesn’t match the hungered, lustful look in his glistening amber eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you feel so good...I was about to bust and I’m not ready yet.”

I sit up on my knees, facing him. “Let me ride you, and I bet it’ll be even harder for you to not lose it.”

He grins, challenging me, and we switch positions: he lays on the bed, and, finally, straddling him, I’m in control. I lower myself onto his cock leaning over him to press my face into his neck, and begin rocking my hips back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. He moves with me, our movements in sync, hands on my hips, guiding me up and down with the tempo of our own song. My head is in the clouds, filled with ecstasy; the feeling of power that comes with knowing that I’m in charge of his pleasure. I feel so amazing, so sexy; something I haven’t felt in months, and I’m relishing every second of it.

Gavin keeps his hands on my hips as I move up and down slowly, then a little faster. “Ugh, fuck, fuck …” I hear him murmur after a little while. I lean back, curving my body slightly, opening up the angle a bit. My breasts are bouncing with our in-sync movement. I feel Gavin move his hand from my hip, further down; taking advantage of the angle, he begins to circle my clit with his thumb again.

I’m still sensitive from the previous orgasm, and, mixed with the pleasure of his cock thrusting in and out of me, feeling my pussy tighten around him with anticipation. I dissolve into the pleasure, like a spring coiling tightly, and then releasing; the delicious wave of fire and lightning coursing from between my legs all the way up into my chest.

“Gavin,” I whimper, leaning over him once again, and he kisses me gently. We resume our previous rhythm, and I know he’s getting close. He grunts, deepening the kiss, then shudders slightly and moans against my lips as he emptied himself into me, filling me with his seed.

Gavin pulls out, and lays next to me on the bed, cradling my face in his hands. He cups my cheek, and I nuzzle my head into his hand.

“Gavin…,” I whisper, not quite sure what to say. He kisses the top of my head, stroking my hair gently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into my hair. I bury my face into his chest, both of ours rising and falling with the same rhythm. It’s so late, and suddenly I feel so worn out, and so comfortable in his embrace, that I feel my eyelids flutter. I can’t keep them open anymore, and, with Gavin stroking my hair, fall into a deep sleep.

When I wake, it’s light out. I rise slowly, leaning on my arm, and notice the bed is empty next to me. Gavin ? He probably got called out on a mission, and had to leave. I walk out of my room and into the living room, glancing at the unused blanket and pillow still sitting on the couch. Smiling, I pick them up to put them back into the linen closet. On my way there, I see a small yellow note, decorated with gingko leaves, folded on the counter. Confused, I pick the note up and unfold it carefully.

Good morning , it says, in Gavin’s handwriting. I grin unabashedly, closing my eyes, remembering his touch. As though in answer, a warm breeze trickles through the open window, gently reminding me that Gavin is always with me, no matter where I am.

#mr love queen's choice #mr love gavin #bai qi #mlqc smut #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc gavin #love and producer #mlqc bai qi #mr love dream date #fanfiction #smut

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anonymousoneshots · 6 years

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Storylines

Dean Ambrose X Reader

Rating: 18+ (Strong Sexual Content/Language)

A/N: This is lengthy. Like, really lengthy. I’m thinking about making a part two based on how well this goes over. Be sure to send me feedback and reblog like crazy, babes! xxx

WARNING: Don’t let the lengthy beginning and fluff fool you! This post contains intense erotic fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

“My god! Mark Henry with a huge body slam to Ambrose! Guys, Ambrose might be in trouble after that one...”

The hammering of your heart drowns out Michael Cole’s voice as your mind races. This is it. The moment that will define your place in the WWE and hopefully kick-start your career. You’re currently rocking on the balls of your feet with your eyes closed, breathing deeply through your nose and out through your mouth. You’re less than two minutes away from your TV debut. First impressions are everything. What if I stumble? What if I don’t get the belt to Dean in time? All of the worst possible scenarios are flashing through your mind on a high-speed film reel. One minute away now. You open your eyes and glance over at the stagehand waiting to signal you through the black curtain. You’ve run out of time to think. 20 seconds. You squeeze your hands together and take one last steadying breath as you’re signaled to make your entrance. Your entrance music reverberates throughout the arena, in sync with the thudding in your chest.

You burst onto the Monday Night RAW stage with the most intense level of exhilaration you’ve ever felt. You stop in the center of it all with a cunning grin and look around at the thousands of members of the WWE Universe. Taking in what you can, you start making your way to the ring. Your eyes bore into the dumb-founded look that’s made its way to Mark’s face as he watches you from his current position, leaning forward on the middle of the ropes. In the corner of the ring, Dean is pulling himself up using the turnbuckles, that cocky laugh forming at his lips as his tongue hangs out. You steal a look at your on-screen partner as he finally makes it to his feet, silently willing Henry to turn around, beckoning him with his hands. You’ve done your part. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, girl?” Henry yells at you as you simply stand your ground outside the ring, a broad smile framing your face. A few seconds pass. Why hasn’t he turned around? Finally, Mark turns and finds himself face to face with Dean, ready for the kill. Your smile disappears the instant he does so. You walk casually to the time keepers area to pick up the Intercontinental Championship, just as Dean’s music fills the arena, signaling the end of the match and solidifying that Dean has retained the championship. Jojo’s voice chimes through the speakers as you hand the title to him through the ropes.

Looking up at him, you smile again, genuinely delighted, realizing everything went exactly as it should have. Dean winks at you and celebrates his win with the Universe as you look on, folding your arms across your chest and beaming, smiling like a fool. Dean hops down from the ring apron and lands beside you, sliding his free arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him. He gives you a small kiss on the cheek, turning his head saying, “You did prefect, [y/n].”

Finally making it backstage, your emotions burst and you throw your arms around Dean without thinking, delightful laughter over-taking you. Dean’s a bit surprised at first but instantly gratifies himself by lightly lifting you and swinging you in a small circle, letting his title fall to the floor. He gently places you back on your feet as you loosen your arms from hugging him and settle your hands on his shoulders. The smile on your face lights up your eyes, and before thinking, you exclaim, “Oh my god, I could kiss you.” Realizing what you said, you instantaneously pull your arms away from him, flush with embarrassment. Red faced, you stare at the floor while attempting to fix your word vomit with, well, more word vomit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I don’t mean that I want to kiss you or anything. I just meant- And it- Well, it’s not that you’re not attractive, I just- And the hug, I’m sorry-“

Dean, an amused expression on his face, isn’t stopping you from rambling. Why am I still talking? Why isn’t he stopping me? Yup, I’m still talking. Holy shit, [y/n], shut up. You snap your mouth closed and glance up at him, visibly wincing at how terrible this whole situation has become. Being fairly new to the locker room and getting paired with Ambrose was huge. You don’t want to jeopardize anything when it comes to your career. Which means you probably shouldn’t be leaping into your co-worker’s arms and shouting that you want to kiss them.

“Hey, it’s alright. You got reason to be excited. Just when most women are excited, they want to do more than kiss me, ya know?”

Oh my god. Say something. You can’t move. You can’t speak. The version of you you’ve tried so hard to leave behind is very much present tonight. Suddenly, you’re back pedaling three years into a timid child with a school-girl crush. Dean’s gaze is unfaltering and does nothing but intimidate you further. Swiping his tongue across his lips, he stops staring at you and bends over to pick up the title you made him drop. I wanna die. I wanna die. Standing back up with a smirk, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze and turns to head to the men’s locker room. As the pressure of him being so close subsides, you regain enough composure to pipe up, “Sorry, again.” You dare to look up from the floor while he pivots around. Walking backwards now, he grins and says, “Don’t worry about it, Darlin’.”

————————————————————————

Darlin’. You’re staring at your blurred reflection in the ladies room, steam fogging the mirror from your hot shower. That one word, among other things, has been running through your mind since Dean’s championship match. Wiping the mirror with your hand, you study your damp hair, watching it curl from the steam. Looking away with a sigh, you grab another towel to finish drying your hair with one hand and tighten the one around your body with the other. Heading out of the shower area into the locker room, you remain towel-drying your hair and begin humming to yourself as you make your way across the floor barefooted to get dressed.

“[y/n].”

You startle and nearly drop the towel from around your body. “Shit,” you say, as you find your grip before it falls and whirl around. Oh my god. Your heart is hammering in your throat. Your face starts burning as you fidget uncomfortably and attempt to look at his face instead of your bare feet. “What are you doing?” you mange. Your voice sounds distant, like you’re detached from your body and listening to yourself speak through a glass wall. Dean stands up from the bench casually, something flickering in his eyes. Instead of turning away at the notice of how flustered you are, he holds his tongue between his lips and smirks, eyes trailing from your toes to your damp hair. “Well, fuck.” Your knuckles are white from how tightly you’re gripping the towel. He tilts his head to the side a bit and tries to study your face and gage your reaction, but you’re too stiff and don’t dare tear your gaze away from the floor.

“I, uh, came to thank you,” he says.

Thank me? It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth. “Thank me?” you utter quietly, eyes finally darting up from their spot on the floor. Not moving any closer to you, he shifts his position and puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. You know, for helping me out tonight with the win.” Relaxing a little bit, though fully aware you’re naked under this tiny towel, you finally meet his eyes.

“Just doing my job. Not that I wouldn’t have wanted to help you out anyway. I mean-“ God damn it, don’t do this again, you psychopath. “You’re welcome.”

He’s pretty amused again, and starts toward you. “Do I make you nervous, or are you always this unsure of yourself?”

“Today just made me nervous in general.”

“What, because of your debut? You seemed pretty kick-ass out there to me.”

“That was the adrenaline. Trust me, I was a complete disaster inside.” Wow, he’s close. And here I am, in this towel. This tiny towel. Jesus, this is so inappropriate. “I don’t believe that. You can’t feign that kind of confidence, darlin’.” That word. Instinctively you squeeze your thighs together, in a failed attempt to stop yourself from getting turned-on. Dean notices your tell immediately, and that tongue of his is once again placed between his lips. “You doing okay?” he asks, as he take one small step closer to you.

“I’m just in this towel. And you’re here. And, wow. I’m just gonna go change because this is clearly uncomfortable for you-“

His lips are on yours in one swift motion, stopping you from rambling this time. The kiss is gentle, as he holds his lips to yours as you relax. He pulls back a few inches, his hand now resting on your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and you feel breathless. “I can promise you, I’m not the one who’s uncomfortable.” You exhale the breath you aren’t aware you’ve been holding, and it comes out shuddered as you ache for his lips on yours again.

“You kissed me,” you whisper.

Dean laughs softly and flicks his tongue out once again to wet his lips. He takes his hand off your cheek and pulls himself up straight, away from you. You instantly feel the loss of this presence. The kiss was sweet and it lasted only a moment, but you’re still left breathing fast with your heart racing. Dean steadies his eyes on the rise and fall of your chest now, before glancing back up to your eyes and taking a step backwards.

“Anyway, tonight went great. You’ll do alright around here.” With that, he turned on his heel and was heading towards the door, your body screaming no. Think about what your doing, [y/n]. Don’t stop him. Really, just let him-

“Dean, wait.” He stops abruptly, and slowly turns around, a sly smile present on his face.

“What’s on your mind now, Darlin’?”

“Could you just-“ You stop mid sentence, breathing in deep as you noticed his smile shift into something more. Something you’re really craving at this moment. “Could you maybe just, thank me once more?” Your mouth is parted slightly as you’re breath steadies, as you challenge him with your eyes. He bites his bottom lip slightly, before turning back towards the door. Your stomach plummets. Oh my god, how could I be so foolish? I’m pretty much oozing desperation, girls must do this around him all the time. The first kiss was just a comfort kiss, not an invita-

Your train of thought halts as Dean opens the door just to check the halls, before shutting it with a flick of the lock. Shit. He turns to face you once more, leaning back against the door. He nods his head up at you, his eyes falling back to your chest as he says, “How would you like me to do that?” Aware of his gaze on your breasts, you make a point to annunciate your breathing, rising your chest high with each breath and letting if fall slow.

“I don’t think you thanked me properly.”

He stops leaning against the door and holds his tongue between his lips as he strides toward you, his hand moving to rub the bulge forming in his jeans before he’s standing in front of you. He lifts your face towards him with his finger under your chin. You instinctively close your eyes and part your lips, ready for his lips to meet yours once again. They don’t. You open your eyes to look at him expectantly, but as soon as you do his hand falls and he grabs your shoulders, pushing you backward with him until your back is pressed against the lockers. “That’s not how this works. Tell me what you want.”

“I just meant that you kissed me and maybe...” you say breathlessly, eyes locking with his as your sentence trails off. “Maybe what? Come on, [y/n]. If you tell me what you want maybe I’ll deliver.” He places his hand on your cheek again, and actually does kiss you now. Another gentle kiss, but this one is twinged with a bit more heat than the one before. You move to place your free hand on his neck to pull him in to deepen the kiss, but he stops as soon as you touch him. “Dean..” you start, but he interrupts you by asking, “You want to know what I want?” All you can do is wait for his answer, time at a standstill.

He leans closer to you now, his voice husky in your ear. “I want to taste you. I want to see what those titties look like without this towel.” You squeeze your thighs together once more, attempting to ease the building ache. “I think you want me to taste you, too. Didn’t think I’d notice how you’ve been squeezing those legs together? Your pussy is just aching for my head between your thighs.”

That elicits a small moan from you. “Tell me what you want, Darlin’.” Your body is screaming for him. “You. I want you.”

“Me? Nuh-uh. I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Dean-“ You’re practically squirming against the lockers at this point. “Just- please.”

“Please? Please, what?” He has you completely pinned against the lockers now, his hands on either side of your head, his face inches from yours as he whispers in your ear. “Do you want my dick?”

“Yes.” You grip the front of his jeans with your free hand, bringing his body into you. You feel his member press against your bare thigh through his jeans, making you whimper once again. “Take me, please.”

Dean glances up at the clock on the wall above you before looking back to you. “We got ‘bout two minutes before the other ladies head here. That’s not enough time to get me off. But that’s more than enough time to take care of you,” he says as he take one hand from the wall and places it on the inside of your thigh, moving slowly towards your core. Oh god, yes. You close your eyes and exhale, bracing yourself for the pleasure. His hand inches up and stops centimeters away as he feels the slickness at the apex of your thighs.

His lips are pressing against your jaw as his breath hitches in your ear. “Fuck. Your pussy is dripping for me. What do you want me to do?” You moan softly. “Touch me,” you whimper, as you begin to spread your legs apart. His finger tips are grazing our opening. It’s too quiet as you anticipate his touch, the ticking of the clock growing louder.

You cry out as he plunges two fingers inside of you, your voice piercing through the stillness of the locker room. His lips are moving from your jaw to your neck and back again, sucking and nipping in all the right places. “Oh, fuck,” you pant, as his fingers move in and out at a steady pace. You grip the back of his shirt for support as he hits deeper each time, his fingers curling as he starts to pump faster, your breathing labored.

“Oh, god, please-“

Suddenly you’re empty. You grip the front of his shirt and pull him towards you roughly, pleading with him silently. He chuckles and says, “Patience. I just wanna taste you when you come.” He leans in to kiss you, hungrily this time, as his hands grasps the bottom of your towel and yanks. You gasp as it falls out of your grip to the floor, leaving you completely exposed, the cool air tingling your hardened nipples.

“Damn, [y/n]. If we weren’t so damn pressed for time I’d love to cum all over these,” he rasps, as his hands grip both your breasts and squeeze. Your eyes flutter closed as Dean starts to sink down, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he goes. His hand leave your breasts now and slide down your sides, resting on your hips as his face is level with your pussy. He lightly taps the the side of your ass for you to lift your leg, and you oblige, placing your leg over his shoulder and your hands in his hair.

You push his head a little bit closer to you, wetness pooling at your core. “All this for me?” He slowly licks up your thigh, starting where your pussy dripped. He stops before hitting your opening, repositioning himself further underneath you. He wastes no more time as his tongue darts out between your folds. You let out a load moan as his tongue finds your clit. Dean flicks his tongue over it as you breathe faster, already nearing your climax.

“Oh. Mm, yes, Dean!” He focuses on your opening, tongue fucking you ruthlessly. You’re panting and writhing in his grasp, climbing higher and higher. He brings the hand that’s not holding your ass up to circle your clit, making your body jolt at his touch. He rubs harder and faster, delving his tongue in deeper than you thought possible. Your body shakes as you bite your lip and moan loudly, ready to burst.

“Dean, baby, don’t sto- FUCK! I’m, I’m c-” You feel it happen as everything disappears around you, the clamping of your walls making it hard for Dean to drill his tongue in and out, the over-stimulation of your clit causing a fire to rip across your abdomen. You scream out his name as your senses explode, riding his face as you start to come down. He takes his fingers away and circles your opening once more with his tongue before dragging it up to your clit, lapping up every drop from your orgasm. As your breathing finally begins to slow, he kisses the top of your pussy lightly, before sliding your leg off his shoulder and placing it on the floor. You place your hands on either side of his face as he rises to his feet, a cocky grin forming on his face. You take one hand away and shakily slide it down his torso to the top of his jeans, reaching to palm him. But his hand grips your wrist as he pulls your arm back up and places it on his chest. He rests his forehead against yours and says, “We’re out of time, Darlin’.”

You sigh as he pulls away from you, craving so much more. “I gotta go take care of this.” He places one last kiss on your lips, saying, “Until next time?” Giggling, you playfully push on his chest.

“That’s not part of the storyline.”

#wwe #reader insert #one shot #wwe one shot #wwe x reader #fan fiction #fanfiction #dean ambrose #ambrose #dean ambrose x reader #ambrose asylum #x reader #hounds of justice

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

Text

Dublin street chapter 9

Dru laughed, hugging me close. “You’re crazy… but I love you.”

…The walls closed in on me as my chest squeezed tight. I wheezed trying to draw breath.

I was dying.

The panic attack lasted longer this time, those words refusing to allow me to focus.

Eventually, I struggled through to reality, pushing the memories back and allowing my body to breathe.

When it was over, I wanted to cry more than I had ever wanted to cry in a long time. But crying would only make me weak. Instead I stood up on shaky legs and tread the memories into the kitchen tiles. By the time I changed and slid into bed I pretended it was all forgotten.

***

“You had another panic attack?” the good doctor asked softly.

Why had I mentioned it? Nothing good could come of it. She’d never be able to put a spin on what happened. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Selena. What triggered this one?”

I stared at my feet. “My friend.”

“Which one?”

My best friend. “Dru.”

“You haven’t mentioned Dru before.”

“No.”

“Why did Dru trigger a panic attack, Selena?”

My eyes slowly lifted to her, raw pain burning through me. “Because she died.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And it’s my fault.”

***

I woke up just before noon and was immediately blasted by memories of the night before. Memories of Justin and the taste of what was possible between us. In an effort to forget, I spent lunch talking around in circles about Adam with Ellie, and fighting off the nerves that kept zinging in my belly every time I thought about Justin’s promise to come see me that night.

I was just getting ready to head in for a bath when Ellie’s phone beeped and she cursed as she scrolled through a message.

“What?” I asked lazily, as I put away our lunch dishes.

“Justin’s been pulled into the office again, he’s missing another family dinner. I’ll have to put up with twenty questions from my mum asking if he’s alright.”

I ignored the disappointed pang in my chest. If Justin was working tonight he wouldn’t be coming over after all. I should be freaking rejoicing. “Your mom really looks out for him, huh?”

“Well Justin’s mum is a selfish, vain, money-grabbing witch who flitted in and out of his life whenever it suited her. He hasn’t seen her in years. So… yes. My mum looks out for him because his own mum doesn’t.”

How could his mother not care about him? He was Justin Carmichael for Christ sake. “That’s unbelievable. I can’t imagine doing that to my own kid.” Not that I’d be having any.

Ellie gave me her sad eyes. “Justin looks a lot like our dad. Justin’s mum, Evelyn, really loved him. He ended things with her abruptly. Settled some money on her. When she told him she was pregnant, he said he’d look after Justin, but he didn’t want anything to do with her. When she looks at Justin, all she sees is the man who broke her heart and so she’s never been very loving. Ever. Justin spent the school years at home in Edinburgh with a distant but controlling father, and his summers flying around Europe watching his mum hook up with rich idiots who didn’t have time for kids.”

My heart ached for little boy Justin.

And I made the mistake of letting it show on my face.

“Oh, Selena…” Ellie breathed. “He’s okay, you know.”

I don’t care. I jerked back from her soft expression. “I don’t care.”

Her lips pinched together but she didn’t say anything. Instead she stood up, and when she walked by me she squeezed my shoulder.

I stared at the sink, wondering how I’d managed to do this to myself. Where had the mask gone that kept everyone at bay? Why did it keep slipping off whenever Ellie or Justin were around?

Feeling out of sorts, I grabbed my phone and headed into the bathroom to soak in the tub and drown it all out with some tunes, but as I was getting undressed, my phone rang.

Justin Calling.

I stared open-mouthed at the screen, trying to decide whether or not to answer it. I let it ring out.

It rang again.

And I just stared at it again.

Two minutes later as I sank into the tub, thinking I’d escaped, Ellie banged on the bathroom door. “Justin says pick up the phone!”

My phone rang and I closed my eyes. “Fine!” I yelled back and reached over for it. “What?” I answered.

His deep chuckle rolled over me seductively. “Hello to you too.”

“What do you want, Justin? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Ellie says you’re in the bath,” his voice was low. “Wish I was there, babe.”

I could almost feel him there. “Justin. What. Do. You. Want?”

He gave a huff of amusement. “Just thought I’d call to let you know I can’t make it tonight.”

Thank you, Jesus!

“I’m having a problem with a few suppliers on this development and it put us back a few weeks. I don’t know when I’ll be free this week, but I guarantee the moment I get some time, I’m coming to see you.”

“Justin, don’t do that.”

“After last night, there’s no denying the promise of what’s between us. I’m not backing off, so rather than coming up with a new defense – which I’m sure I’d find highly entertaining – just give in, babe. You know you’re going to eventually.”

“Have I mentioned how annoying and arrogant you are?”

“I can still smell and taste you, Selena. And I’m still f**king hard.”

My stomach flipped and I squeezed my legs together. “God, Justin…” I breathed without thinking.

“I can’t wait to hear you say that while I’m inside you. See you, babe.”

And after that parting line, he hung up.

I groaned, my head falling back against the tub.

I was so screwed.

~12~

You know on those nature shows when the cute little meerkat is strolling along on its four cute little meerkat legs to get back to her burrow where all her little meerkat politics, drama and family await her, and this big-ass eagle comes swooping overhead…?

The smart little meerkat runs for cover and waits that big-ass eagle out.

Some time passes, and the meerkat finally decides the eagle got bored and went off to scare the crap out of some other cute little meerkat. So, the meerkat crawls out from her hidey-hole to carry merrily on her way.

And just when that little meerkat thought she was home free, that big-ass eagle swoops down and catches her in his big-ass claws.

Well… I know exactly how that little meerkat felt…

***

Justin didn’t call again, or text, or email. I spent the next few days keeping busy, fighting with my manuscript, erasing chapters that an eighth grader could have written, cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, and taking advantage of the distraction that was the Edinburgh Festival with Ellie. We hit the Theatre Big Top in The Meadows to catch the show, The Lady Boys of Bangkok, and damn, were those some pretty boys, went to the Edvard Munch exhibit out in the west of the city at The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, and we bought cheap tickets to this young, up and coming comedian who was stuck in a dingy room in the dated building of the Student Union at the university main campus. Being in the union brought back a lot of memories of Rhian, James and I hanging out in there. I tried to let myself enjoy the crowds of the festival, the tourists everywhere, the smell of coffee, and beer, and hot food everywhere. Peddlers on the sidewalk, peddling their wares—jewelry, posters, random mementos, flyers everywhere.

I also paid a traumatizing visit to my therapist and spoke about Dru for the first time.

Yeah. I didn’t want to think about it.

Suffice to say by the time Thursday rolled around I’d managed to convince myself that Justin had only been playing with me. After all, if he’d been serious he would have at least texted me to make sure I hadn’t forgotten him, but nope. Nothing. Nada.

I’d changed my shifts at work from Thursday, Friday, to Friday and Saturday nights so I was free to hang out at home. When Ellie told me she was staying with her mom that night because she felt like hanging out with her family, I stupidly didn’t think anything of it. I was unprepared. I was relaxed, thinking Justin had forgotten about me.

I stuck my stupid head out of my stupid hidey-hole.

That’s when Justin swooped in like a big-ass eagle.

The apartment was silent except for the sitting room, where I was curled up on an armchair, sipping from a glass of wine and watching Zack Snyder’s 300. I realize now what a bad idea that had been. All those rippling muscles and the languid side-effect of the wine… I blamed it all for what happened next.

“You know you should really lock the door when you’re home alone.”

“Shit!” I jumped, spilling wine all over my jeans. I shot out of the chair, glaring at Justin who stood in the doorway, looking un-amused. What did he have to be pissed about? His favorite jeans hadn’t just gotten ruined! “Jesus C, Justin, for the last time would you freaking knock!”

His eyes dropped to my stained jeans before flicking back to my face. “If you promise to lock the door when you’re home alone.”

I grew still, taking in his serious expression. Was he… concerned about me? I frowned, and dropped my gaze as I put my almost empty glass on the coffee table. “Fine,” I murmured, unsure of what to do with that.

“Ellie’s gone for the night.”

My eyes shot to his face and I found him watching me intently. He was wearing a suit, but he looked a little rumpled, like he’d been working for hours and had come to see me without making a pit stop. My stomach flipped as realization dawned. “Did you orchestrate that?”

The left side of his mouth quirked up. “For future reference, Ellie can be bought with a box of champagne truffles.”

I was going to kill the traitor.

Especially because Justin looked so damn good. That and the fact that the costume department for 300 had done a number on my libido caused the hormonal wreck that stood before Justin. I willed myself to take Dr. Pritchard’s advice and stop thinking fifty steps ahead. I told myself all the time that I was living life in the present because planning a future was just so terrifying. But while I lived my life in the present, I constantly worried about what awaited me tomorrow, and I think the good doctor was suggesting I take my own damn advice and live for today.

But with Justin?

It was too dangerous. I already knew I didn’t want a relationship with him.

“I take it you weren’t expecting me?” Justin asked as he settled himself on the couch.

Not wanting to appear intimidated, I slipped back into my seat on the armchair. “No. I managed to convince myself through wishful thinking that we were done with whatever that was that happened before…”

He shrugged out of his jacket. “You mean when I dry humped you against a wall?”

My jaw locked with irritation. If he’d been a character in a book, I would have hated his dirty mouth. As it was, my body loved his dirty mouth. No need to tell him that. “You know, Justin, I’ve watched you over the last few months and you’re such a gentleman to everyone but me. What’s with that?”

“I want you in my bed. Gentlemen are boring in bed.”

Good point. “Gentlemen are gentlemen in bed. They make sure you’re having a good time.”

“I’ll make sure you’re having a good time, and that you’re okay with everything we’re doing. I just won’t be well-mannered about it.”

Stomach flip, belly squeeze. “I thought we already discussed this. You and I are not happening.”

He frowned at me, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together between them. His shirt sleeves were rolled up again. It was like he knew what that did to me. “We haven’t discussed anything.”

I sighed heavily. “Justin, I like you, I do. Yeah, you’re an overbearing ass and you say whatever is on your mind without filtering out the filth, but you seem like a good guy, and you’re a good brother to Ellie.” Our eyes caught, and I almost flinched at the pang of attraction that zinged across my chest. “Ellie has become a really good friend and I love living with her here. I don’t want to mess that up. And I don’t want to be in a relationship. With anyone.”

He looked at me so long in silence, I didn’t know if he was actually going to ever respond. I had just decided it might be best to leave the room and Justin to his thoughts, when he relaxed back against the couch. His eyes darkened. I knew that look. Uh oh. “Good thing I’m not proposing a relationship.”

It was safe to say I was completely confused. “Well, what are you proposing?”

“Just sex.”

What? “What?”

“You and me. Just sex. Whenever we want. No strings attached.”

“Just sex,” I repeated, feeling the words roll around my mouth and brain. Just sex. Sex with Justin whenever I wanted with no strings attached. “What about everything else? Ellie, the apartment, the whole gang hanging out?”

Justin shrugged. “None of that has to change. We’ll be friends who hang out and have sex with each other.”

“And what would we tell people?”

“It’s nobody’s bloody business.”

I tilted my head, exasperated. “I meant Ellie.”

“The truth.” He eyed me carefully. “I don’t lie to my sister.”

“She won’t like it.”

Justin chuckled. “I don’t give a flying f**k if Ellie likes it or not. In fact, I’d prefer it if my wee sister stayed clear of my sexual business.”

“That’ll be kind of hard since the person you want to have sex with lives with her.”

That didn’t bother him in the least. “Your bedrooms are on opposite sides of the flat. And you can always visit my bed in my flat.”

Hmm. Justin’s apartment. I was curious to see it.

No! No, stop it! “I can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Stomach flip, belly squeeze. I closed my eyes. I could feel his body pressed against mine again, feel his tongue stroking mine, and his hand gentle but firm against my breast. Oh God. My eyes flew open and I found his gaze had softened on me. “Just sex?”

I could tell he was trying to stifle a smile, like he knew he was winning. “Well… almost.”

What? “Almost?”

“I need someone to accompany me to business dinners and whatever inane social events Morag has scheduled me to appear at. It would be nice to go with someone who wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal or a diamond necklace at the end of the night.”

“That’s not just sex. That’s like an arrangement. Like the arrangement you usually have with all those Barbies you date. Which brings me to why me? Justin, you’ve got a lot of money and you’re not exactly hard on the eyes—although I doubt you need me telling you that and giving you something else to be a cocky bastard about—so why not go out and get one of those tall, skinny blondes who will jump at the chance of jumping you?”

Surprise flashed across Justin’s face and he dipped his head down. “One: because they need me to care about them. They want me to talk about my feelings, and they want me to buy them shit. We’re talking about taking that out of the picture, which works for both of us. And two: seriously?”

I frowned, wondering what he was ‘seriously-ing’ me at.

“Well,” he shook his head, grinning now, “You always surprise me.”

“How’s that?”

“I just assumed you knew how sexy you are. Apparently you don’t.”

Wow. I flushed inwardly and rolled my eyes at him, like his words hadn’t penetrated my steel armor. “Whatever.”

My blasé answer didn’t deter him. He was determined to answer my question. “No, you don’t look like my usual woman. And yes, I like long legs. And yours are short.”

I glowered at him now.

Justin grinned. “And yet they still gave me a semi-hard on in the taxi when you were wearing those little shorts. And again when you wore them at Elodie’s and Clark’s.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head, enjoying himself. “You’ve got great legs, Selena. An amazing smile when you use it on occasion. And fantastic tits. And yeah, I usually date blondes. But you’re a blonde. I think.” He laughed when my glower turned full on glare. “Doesn’t matter about the color. You never wear it down, and I can’t get the thought of you beneath me, and that hair spread out across my pillow while I move inside you, out of my head.”

Oh. God.

“But I think mostly it’s your eyes. I want something from them no one else gets from them.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, my voice low, almost hoarse. His words had affected me as deeply as any aphrodisiac.

“Soft.” His own voice had deepened with the highly sexual atmosphere. “Soft the way only a woman’s can be after she’s come for me.”

I gulped inwardly. Outwardly, I tilted my head to the side with a wry grin. “You’re good with the words, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m good with my hands. Will you let me give you that?”

I laughed and his grin widened, wicked and beautiful. I sighed, and shook my head again. “It sounds like more than just sex, Justin. You’re asking for companionship. That’s complicating things.”

“Why? It’s just two friends going on a few dates and having sex afterwards.” He sensed my unmoving doubt on that one because he shrugged. “Look, when have I ever gotten serious about a woman? I want you, you want me. It’s hanging over what should have been a perfectly nice friendship, so let’s just deal with it.”

“But adding date nights into it? Doesn’t that extend the time period on this thing?”

I thought I saw a flash of annoyance in his eyes, but it was gone with a flicker of his lashes. “You want to put a time period on it?”

“A month.”

And then he grinned, realizing I was giving in.

Shit. I was giving in.

“Six.”

I snorted. “Two.”

“Three.”

We stared at one another and as if it suddenly occurred to us we were talking about how long we were intending to explore a sexual relationship with each other, the already hot tension between us burned deeper, and thickened the air. It was like someone had lassoed a rope around the two of us and was tugging and tugging, trying to draw us closer. An image of us in my bed, naked and writhing, flashed across my mind and my body instantly responded. Panties sufficiently damp, my ni**les joined the party and tightened—visibly. Justin’s eyes dropped to my br**sts and started to smolder before they returned to my face.

“Done,” I murmured.

His next question was unexpected but practical. “Are you on the pill?”

I’d had irregular, heavy periods so yes I was on the pill to stop that. “Yes.”

“Have you been checked?”

I knew what he meant. And after my last sexual encounter and the whole not remembering what the hell had happened, yeah… I’d been checked for STDs. “Yes. Have you?”

“After every relationship.”

“Then I guess we’re good to go.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before Justin was standing above me, his large hand reaching out for mine, his face determined, serious. His eyes blazing.

“What? Now?” I squeaked, totally unprepared.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You want to wait?”

“I just… I thought I’d have time to get ready.”

“Get ready?”

“You know… perfume, nice lingerie…”

With a grunt of amusement, Justin took hold of my wrist and hauled me out of my chair. My small body slammed into his and his arms came instantly around me, holding me to him. A hand slid down my hip and around to my butt. He squeezed it lightly and pressed me against him, his erection hard against my belly. I stifled a moan, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. They glittered down at me. “Babe, nice lingerie is for seducing a man. I’m already f**king seduced.”

“Okay, but-”

His mouth cut me off, crushing against mine, his tongue seeking immediate entry. His kiss was deep and wet and it said ‘this isn’t a date, this is sex’. That was fine by me. I groaned and slid my arms up around his neck and Justin took that as my acquiescence.

One minute I was on the ground, the next I was in Justin’s arms, my legs around his waist, my hands in his hair as we kissed and bit and nipped and licked at each other’s mouths, learning the taste and feel of one another.

“Fuck,” Justin responded, the burr of the word vibrating against my lips.

No time to complain about him leaving my mouth, I felt the air blow through my hair and we were moving into the hall, down the hall, into my bedroom and then I was falling. I hit the mattress with a surprised ‘oof’ and stared up at Justin indignantly. “Was that necessary?”

“Strip,” he answered gruffly, unbuttoning his shirt with quick, nimble fingers.

My sex clenched. My jaw did too. “Excuse me?”

He stopped what he was doing and leaned down over me, his hands on either side of my hips on the mattress, his face in mine. “A second proposal: when we’re f**king, you don’t argue with me.”

“Bu-”

“Selena,” he murmured in warning.

My eyes dropped to his mouth, the mouth I wanted back on mine. If that meant not arguing during sex, fine. I’d just argue with him when we weren’t having sex. “Why do you insist on calling me Selena?” I made sure my tone wasn’t argumentative, just curious. Because I was curious.

His lips touched mine, soft, gentle, and he pulled back, those pale blue eyes of his bright with heat. “Selena is a girl’s name. Possibly a tomboy’s name.” He smirked. “Selena, on the other hand, is a woman’s name. A really sexy woman’s name.” He pulled back. “So strip, Selena.”

Okay. He could call me Selena.

I sat up and lifted the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. I threw it across the room and took a moment to watch Justin strip out of his own shirt. It dropped to the floor and I watched it, before letting my eyes travel back upwards. I smiled in anticipation at the sight of the hard-on tenting his pants, and then my mouth went dry as I took in his naked torso.

Justin worked out. Like really worked out.

The waist of his pants hung low showing off his flat stomach and the sexy v-cut of his muscles there. I bit my lip. I wanted to touch him. My eyes followed his six-pack up to a strong chest and broad-shoulders. And it was all nicely wrapped up in unblemished golden skin.

“Fuck, Selena.” I looked up and found his gaze blazing even brighter than before. “If you keep looking at me like that, this is going to be over far sooner than I’d like.”

Hmm. I liked that. I liked that I had power over him. “Well, we can’t have that.” I grinned saucily, and reached around to undo my bra. The cold air hit my naked br**sts as I dropped the bra off the side of the bed and this time I was treated to Justin’s perusal.

His eyes drifted from my chest to my face and suddenly he looked a little angry. I stiffened in surprise. “Do you know what it’s been like for me since that day in the flat? Sitting across from you in bars, at dinner, knowing that underneath all the attitude is every man’s f**king fantasy.”

Oh, he was good.

His eyes narrowed as he reached for the buttons and zip on his suit pants. The zip slid down loudly. “I’m going to make you pay for making me wait to have you.”

The throbbing between the legs got worse. Sounds good.

I reached up and unwound my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in all its glory, shivering as the need in Justin’s eyes sharpened. “Fine,” I agreed huskily.

I don’t know which one of us got our pants off faster after that, but one minute I was trying to take back some control with all my sexy attitude and hair. The next minute I was panty-less on my back, my br**sts pressed against Justin’s chest, my thighs spread open to accommodate him between my legs… and I was staring up into his eyes, breathless with anticipation.

“What are you waiting for?” I murmured.

His gave me a wry smile. “For you to back out.”

I huffed in annoyance. “I’m naked aren’t I?”

“So? You have been before.”

“Justin!” I hit his shoulder as he chuckled softly, and his laughter caused his lower body to move–that long, thick, delicious c**k of his sliding down over my belly and back up again.

I gasped at the pulse of pleasure the tease of the action caused and Justin groaned in answer, his lips falling on mine. I’m sure the kiss was meant to be slow, sexy, tormenting. It started out that way. But weeks of forestalling this moment had made us both a little impatient. The kiss grew aggressive, bruising, my hands gripping tight to his hair, his hands kneading my waist, my ribs, my br**sts. My br**sts were particularly sensitive, and when his thumb brushed my nipple, my hips jerked against him.

“You like that, babe,” he murmured, not really asking since the answer was obvious. His lips trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, my hands slipping out of his hair to his shoulders as he stopped at my right breast. He placed a soft, deliberate kiss to the rise of it and I swear I stopped breathing. Another kiss. Another.

“Justin…” I begged.

I felt him smile against my breast just before I felt the wet heat of his tongue against my nipple as his lips closed around it, drawing it in deep. A sharp lance of lust shot through my sex. “God, Justin!”

He did the same to the other breast and I found myself tilting my hips into his, more impatient it seemed than even he was. Then again, it had been longer for me.

“Babe,” his voice rumbled above me as his hand slid down to my hip, stilling me. “Are you wet for me yet, Selena?”

Yes. God yes. “Justin…”

“Answer me.” I could feel his hand moving downwards; felt the graze of his fingers high on my inner thigh, teasing me. “Tell me you’re wet for me.”

When I thought about this afterward, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t embarrassed by his question, or his demand. Or how turned on I was giving into that demand. I’d never had a lover speak dirty to me during sex, but it was working for me. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered against his mouth.

Satisfied he kissed me, a deep, exploring kiss, and his tongue slid over mine as his fingers travelled an inch higher. I jerked at the first touch of them brushing against me. No one else’s fingers had been down there in a while. In response Justin’s kiss grew harder, his touch gentler. My lips broke from his in a moan as he slid his thumb into me, finding my clit and pressing down on it.

“Baby, you’re so f**king wet,” he groaned, his head falling to the bed beside mine, his lips on my neck as his thumb slid out of me, replacing it with two thick fingers that slipped slowly inside my channel. My knees fell open as I reached for more, my hands clinging to Justin’s naked back as I surged up for that ‘more’.

“More,” I pleaded.

And he gave me more, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. He rose up on his other arm to look down at my face as he worked me towards orgasm.

“Yes,” I sighed, feeling it coil and tighten.

And then his fingers were gone.

“What-”

“You’re not coming until I’m inside you,” he told me, his features harsh with need as he pinned my hands to the bed. “I want to feel you come around me.”

Well I wasn’t going to argue with that.

I held onto my sigh of pleasure at the feel of his throbbing c**k at my entrance. He rubbed against me, teasingly, and I wanted to grab his ass and force him inside. But he held tight to my wrists, grinning as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. As torture, he circled his hips, teasing me more.

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