(((Hey guys! I know it's been quite a while since the last time i posted a new chapter but you know how it is...
I've been rewatching the O.C. Season 2 episodes and came up with this idea.
WARNING!!! This story is not what it might seem- if you can't handle it, don't read :)
For the rest of you: I hope you enjoy. I'd love a review... i've planned some other stories like this one but i'm not sure if you would like them ^^ so tell me what you think about this one! (pretty pretty please))).
They stumble to the bed, the alcohol in their system making it rather hard to walk straight anyway.
She moans when she feels his hands running all over her- she has missed those hands on her body. She has missed this kind of attention altogether.
When he uses one of his hands to pull her closer by the small of her back and their groins meet, she gasps. He's missed her too.
Finally hitting the edge of the bed, she feels him lowering her down so his weight is resting on hers while his lips never leave her neck as he places hungry kisses all over it.
She wants him to look at her, make him see the lust and desire in her eyes, but she doesn't want to miss the feeling of his soft lips on her heated skin ever again. And so she tells him.
It has been so long.
She knows that she has missed him emotionally for a very long time now, so long that she has almost forgotten how it would be to hear him say I love you, but the physical need for this very man runs deeper than any feeling she has ever felt before.
They have had rough patches in the past, of course they have, they aren't always all over each other like they were when they first met, but the appearance of his ex-girlfriend made things so bad after that disastrous summer that she couldn't even tell you when he last touched or kissed her.
He pulls her out of her thoughts when he bites gently into the flesh just above her breasts. She watches her hands as they run through his messy black hair, before she throws her head back in pleasure as his rushed kisses continue.
"Kirsten" she hears a muffled moan and loves how desperate he's sounding.
Kirsten has wanted to hear this kind of desire in his voice for so long now, that this very moment makes her want him even more. If that is possible.
She winds her slim legs around his robe-clad body, pushing their groins once again closely together to get a better feel of him through their clothes.
"Oh God" she cries out when his fingers find their way under her silk top, loving how he doesn't waste time before massaging her breasts.
Kirsten usually prefers when he's slow and gentle and she can feel that special chemistry between them, but since it has been so long, she needs to have him exactly the way he's being now. Fast. Desperate. Passionate.
She doesn't even complain when he rips her top right off her body. And it's one of her favourites.
His hands immediately find their previous place on her upper body and in this moment she wishes she had worn a dress to that stupid wine tasting instead of her white jeans.
Kirsten knows him and therefore doesn't doubt that it wouldn't have taken a second for his talented hands to find their way inside her underwear. And inside her.
She finds herself desperately tugging at her own jeans, trying to get the disturbing piece of clothing off her body while his hands and mouth are still concentrated on the upper part of her body.
She mutters under her breath when her alcohol clouded mind wouldn't allow her to open the button. She hears him chuckle lightly at her desperation. His hands quickly join hers and pop it is open. Kirsten lifts her hips, wanting him so much that it physically hurt not to have him closer.
While his head finally leaves her neck and trails sloppy, wet kisses down her collarbone and down between her breasts, she realises for the first time that she hasn't started working on his clothes.
Smiling at the simple white robe that is still covering him, she finds the sash within seconds and pulls at it until it falls open, exposing him completely to her hungry eyes.
She can't help but gasp again- has it been really that long since she last saw him in all his naked glory?
Shaking the thought out of her head, she pulls further at the white robe until it gets flung across the room and knocks down one of the green lamps off the bedside table on its way.
Green? Aren't the lamps in their bedroom white?
She has probably really had too much for one night! Of course she has an excuse- the wine tasting- but she wonders if he has noticed how drunk she really is.
"I want you" he once again murmurs when his head is on the same level as her belly button.
His hands have long found their new positions on their thighs. Her eyes roll back in desire when it slowly registers in her head what he is about to do.
His mouth licks. Bites. Sucks. Blows. Kisses.
His hands caress. Grip. Rub. Scratch. Hold. Massage.
She screams. Whispers. Moans. Groans. Grunts. Murmurs. Cries out. Begs. For more.
It's not long before the both of them are left panting, satisfied.
Her world is spinning, partly because of the amount of alcohol, partly because of the mind blowing sex.
His sweaty body collapses on top of hers and she grips him tightly, trying to regain her regular breathing.
Her breasts are pressed against his heaving chest and she can feel how it moves quickly up and down before his breathes slowly even out.
Kirsten realises in that very moment that it was definitely not to late to save her marriage. To forgive him. To forget.
She can't accept it. She doesn't want to.
She loves him, always has and always will.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Or the amazing sex. Or simply the fact that she had missed him for so long: But Kirsten now knows that she can't lose her husband. The only man who's ever meant so much to her- the only man who has never broken her heart. Well, almost never.
But that would be in the past from now on.
She sighs happily when she listens to his slow, steady breathing. She knows that he's fallen asleep. Kirsten herself feels like she's just had a 65-hours-day even though she only left for the wine tasting a mere few hours ago.
She closes her eyes and lets sleep envelop her in a warm feeling of happiness. Satisfaction. Love.
And her world goes black.
Kirsten Cohen blinks sleepily when something rouses her from a peaceful slumber at 6:30 in the morning.
She suppresses a yawn whilst rubbing her eyes, trying to regain her orientation. She looks around the room and smiles at the incomparable feeling of a warm body pressed to hers. This was the way she liked to wake up best- wrapped up in the arms of her husband after a night of passionate love-making. Even if she had been a little bit too drunk for her own good, she would never forget the pleasure he had caused her.
She feels movement behind her, from where he was spooning her small from, and the smile on her face widens.
"You didn't go surfing" she states lightly and starts stroking his left hand which is currently resting on her stomach.
A long silence follows.
She is just about to joke about him being quiet for once when her entire body stiffens. Her fingertips are finding the bare finger on his left hand.
Kirsten feels his breath on her neck and doesn't trust herself to speak, nor to move, nor to protest, when his hands move to turn her around, making her face him.
She almost chokes on her next words, her tears blurring her vision.
Carter?
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Thank you so much for reading :)
JEN.
