"Oh Veronica."
Brown eyes, brown hair, perfect lips, soft skin. Veronica Sawyer was the perfect girl. She was beautiful. Inside and outside. At least Jason Dean thought so. Her eyes? closed. Her mouth, slightly open. JD's left hand in her underwear, his other one stroking her soft cheek. Small moans escaped her perfect lips, her hands shot upwards and tangled into his hair. He was giving her no mercy, not holding back, wanting her to scream his name, needing her to...be pleased.
Once it hit her hard, harder than any bullet, she groaned, and he slowly removed his hand from the warmest area on her body. Smirking at her, watching her gather her senses and come back to reality, she glanced at him, and rolled her eyes. "Why so cocky?"
Jason Dean gently kissed her, grinning. "I just love how beautiful you are when I touch you. I love how I can make you squirm, just from the movements of my two fingers. I love you. All of you."
Veronica inhaled, and looked at him. "Jason Dean, I love you too. But don't start with your passionate bullshit right now, I need to change my underwear." She stood up, fixing her skirt and walking to the restroom. JD watched her, sitting up on her bed and staring at the tent in his jeans. Veronica's parents were on a trip, giving no explination about where, but Veronica knew they would be gone long. Which is good, so she could get it hard as much as she wanted. And Jason Dean was more than willing to give it to her.
With a flush of the toilet, and a door opening, Veronica trudged out, groaning, running her hand through her short hair, dramatically lying face first on her bed, JD going down with her. "Tired, love?" She rolled onto her back, then looked over at him. "No... bored." He sat up, staring into her face with longing. She blinked, and stared at her ceiling. "What are we doing with our lives? We killed Heather Chandler. What will we do when everyone finds out it was us? What are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go? I just..." She sat up too, glancing into his eyes before continuing. "I just... want a normal life... with you... I want us to get married... travel the country, staying in hotels, making love at every single one because god, I can't get enough of you. I do love you. But i feel so... just... not so very." JD sighed, his mouth forming a straight line, and his eyes not meeting hers. He did'nt know what to say. What to do. She waited for a response, but did'nt get one. She was about to say something, before JD quickly kissed her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, as she willingly spread her legs, moving onto his lap, the tent in his pants forming again. Once they seperated, Veronica rested her forehead on his, her small hands gripping his shoulders. JD stared into her eyes, reality hitting them like gunshots whenever his erection hit her crotch. She looked downwards, breathing hard, her white panties showing a damp area, and JD moved his arousal against her again, making them both moan softly. He thanked the sweet lord above that she wore skirts most of the time. Making it easier to just "do it" instead of fumbling with jeans.
JD wore pants though. He pulled his zipper down, his grey boxers not hiding anything from her. She smiled, fumbling to pull them down as quickly as possible. Slipping off his blue flannel too, she mumbled in frustration, struggling to take off his grey tank top. Once she finally did, he kissed her again, nearly ripping off her blue cardigan, along with her blank crop top. His fingers stopped at her lacy black bra, his lips at her neck, her breathing rapid. After that short pause, he slowly pulled it down her shoulders, throwing it somewhere, their lips meeting again, his cold hands softly groping her warm breats. She gasped into his lips, softly grinding down on him, and thats when it was too much. They needed eachother. Now. Blue skirt flying across the room, white underwear too. Grey boxers mixed somewhere into that. They stared into eachothers half lidded eyes, her nails digging into his back as he slowly slid into her.
They loved doing this. Not because it felt good, but because it felt like they were one. Like they were the only people on earth. Despite everything, despite the mental health of Jason Dean, despite the murder and anger and fighting, they needed each other in every way possible. They could do this, be so in love without caring about what they've done. But it hurt Veronica, it hurt a small part of her because it was wrong.
He thrusted a few more times, growing weaker as his peak hit him, and with a strangled moan he came into the rubber, her orgasm following soon after. After a few seconds, he pulled out, and kissed her neck, softly, before taking the condom off and lazily pulling the sheets over them. "I love you." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you too." She replied, gently running her hands through his hair, combing through the knots.
He breathed into her collarbone, kissing the red marks he left. The marks that claimed her as his. "Our love is God, Ronnie." He whispered, before they fell asleep.