Rating: Strong R for language and sexual situations. It's also quite dark so be warned.
Author's Notes: While I love Summer and Seth together, a part of me has always been intrigued by Summer and Ryan. I've wanted to write a story with them 'together' for awhile now. My intention was to write something sweet and light, however, it ended up being dark and angsty. But overall, I think it's rather fitting.
She knows it's wrong even as she digs her fingernails into his shoulders and clenches around him.
He smells of cigarette smoke, sweat and sex, an intoxicating combination she craves more than Versace or her favorite Hermes handbag.
Doing this in the poolhouse with Seth asleep in his room just a few yards away is risky, but both of them are too far gone to care.
The first time it had happened had been after a party. She and Seth got into an argument. She'd been drunk and upset. Ryan just had another fight with Marissa. She can't recall who had initiated it first. All she remembers is Ryan's strength and power as he'd fucked her against the wall with bruising force, and how she had never come so fuckin' hard in her life.
Summer loves Seth. His innocence, the laughter he inspires in herself and others, and how he looks at her like the most beautiful creature in the world.
But she also craves Ryan. The roughness of his calloused hands against the tan smoothness of her skin. The sounds of his grunts resounding in her ear when they fuck and the taste of his salty sweat against her tongue.
Summer loves Seth for his innocence but she craves Ryan for his darkness. The same darkness that mirrors the one buried deep within herself. They understand each other. What it's like in a broken home. Alone. Overlooked by those that are supposed to love you. Summer understands Ryan. And, more importantly, she knows Ryan understands her.
His hands fist almost painfully in her raven locks and she arches against him, her breasts pressing against his chest as their sweat-slickened bodies continue to move against one another.
There are never any words uttered between them. No empty "I love yous' or words of endearment. Just the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, her stifled cries and his primitive grunts of pleasure.
That's how they like it.
Anything else would make it real. And neither of them are ready for the repercussions.
She watches through heavy lids as Ryan dips his head and captures her nipple between his teeth. Summer doesn't try to stifle the moan of appreciation that leaves her bruised, swollen lips.
The sound carries easily in the otherwise silent room and she painfully fists her own hands in his short, blonde locks. Her other hand digs into the smooth flesh of his upper arm, breaking the skin and drawing blood.
But it only makes him fuck her harder.
He stops suddenly, withdrawing from her slick, silken core and her eyes pop open.
She doesn't hide her panic as her gaze rakes the room, terrified that they've finally been discovered.
She knows it's a fear they both share. And one that will one day come to fruition.
But before she can dwell further on the wrongness of their actions, despite how fuckin' good it feels, Ryan kisses her. She moans appreciatively as his tongue plunders the soft, dark cavern of her mouth before entwining his tongue with her own. She deepens the kiss, growing more desperate as they vie for dominance. Moaning in disappointment when he finally pulls away from her, she feels him throbbing against her thigh and the urge to have him inside of her again is overwhelming. She doesn't say anything as he sits back on his heels, his lower body straddling her own. And, she doesn't resist when he wordlessly turns her onto her stomach and uses strong, sure fingers to grip her hips and pull her onto all fours. She feels his hardness gently probing against her, teasing her, before finally sliding back inside. She bites her lip, drawing blood as he stretches her.
She whimpers, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as Ryan pulls back before slamming back into her. Fingers trembling before tightening around the sweat, soaked sheets beneath her, Summer allows Ryan to manhandle her body. She doesn't protest when he tangles his hand in her hair and pushes her head down into the mattress. All she does is turn her head to breathe. The cool dampness of the sheets feels wonderful against her overheated skin and she closes her eyes.
Re-opening them, she can just vaguely see that his own eyes are closed in pleasure from her position, and she clenches her muscles in response around him. She moans appreciatively as his free hand slides around the curve of her hip between her thighs were she desperately craves it. Her breath hitches in her throat and that only makes him stroke her faster.
His movements have become erratic as he plows inside of her and she's close. Vaguely aware of him gritting his teeth out of her peripheral vision, and of the muscles in his arm cording with each thrust, she feels him plunge inside of her a few more times before exploding, his fingers never losing their rhythm. The sensation of him coming, combined with that of his thumb and forefinger as they pinch her sensitive flesh, are enough to send her careening over the edge. His name leaves her lips, part sob, part scream, as she clenches vice-like against him and he shouts softly.
She never comes as hard as she does with Ryan.
Exhausted, she doesn't protest as he collapses against her back, his weight pressing her down into the soft mattress. Sated, she trembles lightly as he brushes aside her damp hair from her neck, and lightly presses his lips against the nape of her neck, the simple action strangely intimate and tender before rolling off of her.
Her cheek pressed against the Egyptian cotton sheets, she wills her body under control while staring blankly at the wall in front of her.
The silence of the room is broken by the sound of rustling and the shifting of the mattress beneath her body as she hears him rise.
Rolling onto her back, she silently watches as he dresses.
She reaches for the clothing he hands her, aware of his eyes boring into her as she slides the lace material of her panties over slim, tanned legs and reaches for her bra.
The guilt starts to set in now, like it always does when they've been together. She knows he feels it, too. Once how she made the mistake of staring into his eyes right after one of their trysts. She vowed to never do so again.
She looks up briefly now, sees his impassive face staring down at her. But even in the dimness of the room, she can see his guilt reflected in his ceruleum orbs, despite his stoic expression and she quickly looks away and reaches for her purse.
They don't bother to exchange words. It would just cheapen the moment further.
She walks past him and out into the cool night air, the glass doors shutting quietly behind her. Her heels click against the deck floor and she pauses momentarily to stare up at Seth's window. The familiar sting of tears rise against her lids and resumes her rapid pace to the car she parked three blocks away.
Summer loves Seth. His innocence. But she also craves the darkness.
End.