This Is Not How You Make Love
I felt as though I might have been in the worst possible Hell. The pain, the second day, was worse. Not unbearable, but I was sore. Bruises covering my leg where Crowley had gripped me, neck covered in small marks, the bite on my shoulder stinging every time my shirt moved or I showered. And the guilt…the damn disgust at myself, it was worse. The pain a constant reminder of what happened, every time I moved, every time I walked. And Bobby…he was happy. He was actually happy because he had gotten out of the deal, outsmarted Crowley, knew how to kill demons. It was damn near impossible to actually play along with it. Smile and laugh and agree to go out for dinner and celebration.
But I did manage. I pretended to smile and laugh and covered any mark Crowley had left with clothes and makeup. I managed damn well because Bobby was becoming more relaxed too. He didn't even ask how I was doing as often as he used to. And in a few weeks I managed to send him off. He had a hunt and a friend to visit for a few days and I was in desperate need to get hammered those days. Maybe kill enough brain-cells to make me forget what happened in the junkyard. Crowley never once having contacted me since then. Or maybe I was trying to avoid him? "Accidently" losing my phone, keeping myself around Bobby more often than not. I was coward…and a damn pathetic one at that.
With Bobby gone, I nearly emptied the liquor store for the coming weekend. Renting movies, buying junk-food. That's what I needed, right? To just…stop thinking for a while and watch a few movies and forget. Except that when I did finally drink myself into oblivion, I didn't fall on the sofa and watch television until I passed out. Because like a parasite, Crowley had invaded my mind. Making me think of the way he had felt, the way he made me hurt and the way he had me see stars and I found myself craving him. Craving Crowley like a heroin addict.
Half stumbling through the house I found Bobby's bowl, dropping ingredients in, doing my best to find them all and not screw up the summoning ritual I had to look at more than once. My mind was gone and if rationality did try to speak, I'd quiet it with another swing of whiskey. I cut my hand, poured the blood and hunted for a lighter. Nearly stumbling to grab it from the fireplace, burning my thumb a bit as I lit it and dropped it into the bowl, watching how the flames burst to life. That odd smell filling the air for a moment before dispersing. Before it had even died down I turned to look at the room.
My mind was gone; the second he appeared it was gone. I stared at him, a scowl on my face, eyes narrowed. And for once, Crowley wasn't smirking. Just looked at me, frowning slightly. Before he could get a word out I had walked up to him. Hand gripping his tie, yanking hard to bring him down enough so I'd be able to kiss him. Forceful and needy and demanding, tongue pushing against his lips. Crowley grunted, hands on my arms. It took a second but he finally pushed me back, his breathing heavy and staring at me like I had just sprouted another head.
"Are you bloody wasted?" he barked, his voice rough, loud in my ears. Nearly making me flinch.
"Yeah, now shut up." Again I grabbed his tie, pulling hard and quick. And again Crowley staggered forward, his lips landing on mine. Addicting…he was so fuckin addicting. His taste, the way he felt. That smell of scotch and sulfur when he was this close to me. It filled my lungs and sent my mind to soaring heights, a low groan leaving the back of my throat, hips grinding forward. And again, Crowley pulled back, staring down at me with rage and unmistakable lust.
"This isn't something you—"
"Conclude et futue me." I murmured, the command almost hinging on a plead, laced with unmistakable annoyance. Shut up and fuck me.
Crowley stared, his eyes flicking around my face like he was searching for something and again I pressed myself closer to him, ground my hips into his. Needed him…I needed him and I craved him and the pain and the guilt he made me feel. I think eventually he saw that in me because he gripped me hard by the hips, shoving me back forcefully against a wall. His lips hard and rough…making an almost instantaneous moan rise from my throat as my back arched against him.
The roughness…that's what I needed. I didn't want him to be gentle or sweet or pause and ask if I was okay. I wanted nothing more than hatred and lust and make things as they were supposed to be. Just a fuck…not some sick need to comfort him. Again I pushed against him, hands gripping at his suit, keeping him close to me, doing what I could to keep him from talking. I didn't want him to talk or try and rationalize this or ask if I was mental. I just...needed him.
"Lotus," Crowley growled, the voice actually sending a jolt of fear from me as he forced me back again, his eyes dark and pupils blow wide. Making a sick grin spread on my lips, hips grinding forward to feel him through the clothing. I saw how he shuddered at the sensation, how his jaw flexed with an attempt to keep in control.
"Just…just don't fuckin question it…I want this, alright?"
"You're drunk." He tried to reason, again I pushed my hips against his and saw how his lips parted slightly, fingers tightening their hold on me.
"So? You were pissed last time…I call it even." I shrugged, a wanton groan leaving my lips when I felt his slacks tighten. "For the love of fucking Lucifer, Crowley…don't turn into a fuckin' saint now of all times."
Crowley dipped his head down, his teeth sharp on my neck to leave a mark, working quickly with his tongue and lips to make me moan in satisfaction. "Bloody fucking tease is what you are, Lotus." He growled against my neck, slowly working his way to my lips. I craned my neck, wanting that taste of scotch and sulfur on my tongue. Craving it to the point where it almost hurt.
"I'm not teasing, Crowley…I'm wanting." I murmured, honesty in my voice as I did my best to focus on him. To look him in the eyes. This was the sort of closure I needed. Just a fuck…to make things nothing more than just a mindless fuck.
"Bloody nymph." He finally growled, though his lips had stretched into an all too familiar smirk. And his lips were on mine, rough and greedy and demanding. Making my back arch from the wall against him and fingers wind in his suit, pushing him slightly to walk. I almost thanked god for Crowley accepting the proposal and not calling me a dimwit before vanishing. I wasted no time, working the large buttons of his suit-jacket, tossing the useless clothing somewhere on the floor. And in turn Crowley's hands had slipped under my shirt, a momentary break in the kiss as he pulled it off. Leaving my skin with the sensation of burning from where he had touched.
What was I doing…god, what was I doing? Wasn't once enough? The aftermath, the guilt that made it hard for me to function right. And yet, here I was again. Not wanting to stop, groping at any bit of him I could reach, his suit his skin, his hair. My breathing shallow, skin on fire from desperation. And I felt him stumble a few times, kissing back quick and fervent, gripping my thighs and back as he walked. Another moan ripped from my mouth, muffled by his lips, fingers tugging at his shirt. "Fuckin…teleport you fuckin' bastard…" I managed to choke out, voice thick with desire and anger.
He grunted in response and I felt the shift of air, his lips still pressing to my neck and chest. Sharp nips that would send bursts of pain, soothed quickly by his slick tongue. Another moan drawn my lips. I tilted my head up, back, eyes open to stare blankly at the ceiling. Hart beating so quickly I was sure it would beat right through my chest. My fingers pushed at his shirt with desperation, wanting to feel his skin, feel every twitch of his muscle, the warmth he radiated. "Take it off…please take it off." I pleaded in a desperate tone, the haze of alcohol and desire making my mind spin madly.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating against mine as he moved forward, lowering me to the bed, kneeling on the mattress. "All you had to do was ask." He growled, his voice impossibly low, accent thicker than I had ever heard it be. He bit down on my shoulder, drawing a wanton moan from my lips before he pulled back. I watched his fingers work the buttons, quickly pulling the shirt off his torso, tossing it carelessly to the side. My eyes wandered greedily, lingering on the scars and tattoos that his vessel had.
Before I could reach out he dipped his head down, lips like liquid fire against my skin. Following my collarbone to the dip in my throat. Quick and hot kisses running down between my breasts. Making me twitch and arch and twist my fingers into the sheets, breathing ragged, burning my lungs. I felt his tongue, dragging down my stomach, around my navel. Again a quiet moan left my lips, shoulders pushing back into the mattress as I arched toward him. Pushing my hips against his and the feeling of his hardness made my toes curl, breathing shallow and hitching in my throat. In return Crowley moaned, the sound vibrating against my stomach, making my hands fly to his shoulders. Fingers greedily groping at newly exposed skin.
"Bloody fuck Lotus…I'll fuck you so bloody hard you'll scream like a whore." Crowley growled against my stomach, his tongue pressing into my stomach as he dragged it up, back to my lips. Hungry and forceful, mixing pain and pleasure and roughness into a single cocktail of bliss. Causing a violent shiver run down my body, as I ground shamelessly against him.
"Always…making promises." I managed to groan when he moved from my mouth, lips moving to my breast, working his lips and tongue and teeth against the flesh. Making me writhe beneath him, hands trailing quickly down his back, his sides, chest, stomach. Down to his trousers. He groaned against me, the sound low and vibrating when my hands brushed against the tightness in his slacks.
"Promises…barley started and you're moaning like a bloody whore." He growled with a dark chuckle as I worked to get his belt undone. The task suddenly impossible, fingers fumbling to get the damned thing loose. "You're going to have to work at undoing a man's pants." He grunted in annoyance, pulling back and pushing my hands out of the way. He was quicker, much quicker. I watched him, watched as he let out a quiet groan when he removed his pants, kicking them off to the side. Not wasting a second he dragged his hands down my torso to my jeans, undoing the zipper and button before sliding both panties and jeans off. Calloused fingers dragging down the length of my legs before he discarded the clothing. Smirking, his eyes dark, tongue darting out to lick his lips, palms running up my legs to push them apart, sliding forward, pinning me to the mattress as he dipped his head down to kiss his way up. "Bloody wonderful." He murmured against my neck.
I quivered under his touches, every breath burning my lungs, never enough. His sucked on a spot below my jaw and I felt his hand slide down my stomach to the apex of my legs. A quiet, drawn out whine leaving my lips when he pushed his finger inside. Legs quivering, hips rising against his hand. I felt the slight shiver he gave off, pushing his finger in harder before drawing it out. Sitting back as he drew the finger between his lips, eyes closing. I thought my mind was going to go at the sight. Breath caught somewhere far down in my throat. Crowley let out a quiet growl, pulling his finger out and leaned over me, pressing his chest hard to mine and sealed his lips over my neck again. I felt him ground against my hips, his length against my warmth. My legs were shaking as they pressed against his sides, mind so far gone he could've asked for my soul and I would've given it to him. "Deus," I managed to groan, fingers pushing into his back. Wishing the feeling would never end. That after all this, I'd just cease existing. Because I was pretty damn sure this was about as good as I'd ever feel.
My entire body was begging for him, no words needed. Arching toward him, quivering, writhing under every touch he made. He was making my nerves hyper-sensitive. Alcohol doing nothing to dull the feelings, skin feeling as though it was submerged under dry-hot sand. "You want me, Lotus?" Crowley growled against my skin, tongue dragging across my neck as he looked at me. Fingers curling around my hips. "Look at me…lift your hips a bit more, love…that's a fuckin good girl." He praised, lips curled up in a sinister smirk. His eyes so dark I was sure they were nothing more than the color black and when he ground me against his member I let out another wanton moan. Desperation pouring from my every pore, wordlessly begging to stop the torture.
"Stop…stop fuckin' teasing Crowley, please," I pleaded when he didn't move further. Fingers desperately clawing at his back, running through his damp hair, trying to bring him closer. My pride gone…it was like I never even had it. Like I was nothing more than his starved whore. It was degrading…and I drank it up like it was some sort of nectar. My fingers traced his temples, his jaw, his neck, shoulders, arms. Hips lifting just as he had told me to do, his hands pushing my legs apart a bit more.
"That's right, love…keep begging me." He growled, his eyes never once wandering from mine. I felt how he adjusted himself, his fingers digging hard into my hips. "Keep saying my name, like that…bloody good girl," he praised and Jesus, his words were like a life source. He pushed forward then, sliding in slowly, making my head push back into the mattress as my body curved and arched. A quiet scream leaving my lips. Crowley didn't stop, not till I felt his hips pressed against mine. He bent over me, lips pushing against mine to swallow my moans. "Fuckin' hell, Lotus…fuckin…hell…you're so bloody good for me..." he was buried inside me and all I could do was grip at his back, pain tearing again. But the pleasure more-so.
The way he groaned, how he said my name…it was addicting. The worst sort of drug. It could've hurt more than was bearable and I wouldn't have told him to stop if only to hear him say my name again. "Fu…fucking hell, Crowley…don't…don't fuckin stop…" I managed, words nothing more than breaths against his ear followed by drawn out whines. It hurt…and I wanted that. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted him to use me in the worst way possible just so this would be as it should. Because this was how it should've always been.
For what felt like an eternity Crowley didn't move, pressed in me, his grip impossible on my hips. Feeling as though he was going to shatter the bone at any moment. I felt his chuckle, vibrating against my neck as he pulled back. Fingers of his hand twisting harshly in my hair to bring me up a little. "That's bloody right Lotus…say my name like that…lift up your hips some more…oh bloody hell." I felt him draw out, a quiet groan escaping his lips before he pulled me up for a kiss. Swallowing another cry as he pushed in, the same excruciating slowness, making me writhe against him in agonizing ecstasy.
Curses and praises rolled of my tongue alike, Latin and English and other select languages. But above all; his name. I said his name like it was a prayer, like it was the only thing that mattered or made any sort of sense. Murmured and moaned against his lips. I felt him smirk. Knew the way I was acting was nothing short of amusing to him. But did I care? No, course I didn't. Even if I might not have been utterly drunk, I somehow doubted I would've acted much different. He was making my mind spiral with desperation and passion, tearing me from the inside out. "That's it Lotus…fucking…good…good bloody girl…feel so bloody good around me." I felt him quiver under my hands, his muscles flexing as he found a slow, rhythmic pace. Groans drawing deep from his chest, his lips swallowing my moans and whines, fingers digging hard into my legs, keeping my hips pressed against his.
Once the pain was beginning to fade I let out a frustrated cry, digging my nails as hard as I could into his back. Feeling a rivulet of sweat run down his spine. The pain was fading…and I need it. I need that pain like an addict needed his heroin. "Crowley," I growled, eyes opening to look at him. Head pushed back, chest heaving with the struggle to breathe. "Fuckin…stop…stop holding back…and fuck me." The words came through my teeth, hungry with desire, and lust, and anger, and everything in between. Hips bucking forcefully against his, making me gasp with the sharp jolt of pain and pleasure.
For a second I thought he was going to pull away fully, surprise in his eyes. But it faded quickly when I had pushed my hips against his, a wicked, sinister smile spreading on his lips as he grabbed my hips and quickly pushed into me. "You want me to fuck you, Lotus, is that what you want?" He chuckled, sound low, words almost slurred together. Again he thrust forward, hard and fast, another cry tearing from my lips. "And people say I'm filthy." He grabbed my lip between his teeth, the pain sharp, and a second later I tasted blood in my mouth. But it was only a momentary sensation before he begun slamming into me at a gradually growing pace, his hips moving smoothly, flaring pain in me again and again. Pushing my mind to the brink of insanity with the ecstasy he could make me feel.
Despite my own moans I heard him grunt, sounds growing in frequency, felt how his hand groped and dug into my thigh and hips for leverage. He pulled my leg around his waist for a better angel, one that made me see stars. It was hell. It was absolute, wonderful, hell. The pain, the pleasure, the heat…it was all so wonderfully unbearable. It drove away my thoughts, my rationality. The guilt and everything that had made me feel nauseous last time. I cried out his name against his lips, back arching more, if that was even possible at this point, and rocked my hips against his in time to meet his thrusts. Intensifying the feeling agonizingly more, setting already raw nerves on fire with what felt like never-ending shocks.
"Good…good fuckin' girl, Lotus, just…just like that. Fucking good girl." His hips moved harder and faster with each thrust, the unflattering sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. But I didn't hear it, not really. All I heard was my own heart, his praises, his grunts. Every one of his moans he let slip through sounding like a goddamn symphony in my ears. My nails drug down his back with each thrust and when I slunk forward, the angel allowing him to bury down even deeper, I felt his cry against my neck. The sound alone making me moan, his hips rocking into me roughly, sloppily now. And when I pressed my lips to his shoulder I tasted the saltiness of sweat and sex and everything that he was.
Even his name wasn't making sense anymore. My body moving on its own accord, no actual rhythm, no control. Just a need to bring me closer to release. I couldn't get a word out, not a syllable. But the pressure was building, fast and hard. And my head pushed back into the mattress, a cry tearing from my lips as I came. My hips shoving roughly against his, needily, muscles twitching and clenching around him and leg tightening impossibly around his waist.
It seemed that my own orgasm drove Crowley into his, his hips rolling against mine, making the maddening pleasure I felt course through me again and again in white-hot waves. I felt his hips rocked into mine, bucking wildly, nothing but groans and exclamations and shuddery breaths murmured against my skin. My body felt wracked in pleasure, consuming my mind making me cling to him and welcome his maddening thrusts. My lips parted in the throats of ecstasy that pushed through me with a vicious force. It was a while…a long while before I managed to think of anything other than Crowley's name.
He had stopped thrusting my now, crouched over me and quivering and still buried to the hilt inside me. I sucked in breath to keep conscious, eyes opening to stare blankly at the ceiling, slowly finding Crowley's face. A hint of a smirk on his lips, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He leaned down, pressing his lips to my throat, sucking the skin beneath my jaw into his mouth before running his tongue over it to sooth the spot. "You're bloody wonderful," he chuckled, sound dark and low, his voice raspier than before.
It was painful to breathe, painful to move. Painful to think, even, my head still swimming. And for once…I couldn't have cared less what was happening around me. Couldn't find the regret to settle in or the guilt. It was something like a numbness settling in me, fingers slowly easing from his back to run down along his sides, resting just above his hips. Part of me not wanting him to pull out. I didn't say a word in return, leg slowly unwinding from his waist, limbs still shaky.
Catching my eye Crowley smirked, eyes seemingly foggy, and he hummed out a groan when I pushed my fingers through his damp hair. Pressing into his scalp, making his eyes flutter close…I could've even sworn he pushed back against my hand a little. "Bloody wonder…" he murmured, words slightly slurry and soft. He dipped his head down again, pressing a kiss to the hollow of my throat as he pulled out, his groan vibrating against my skin. Fingers easing from my hips as he slowly lowered me down and collapsed next to me with a quiet grunt. He heaved a sigh, one arm slipping behind his head as he adjusted comfortably on the bed, eyes sliding shut.
I watched Crowley for a moment, my mind still half clouded with alcohol and an after-sex haze. I didn't want it to end…I wasn't thinking just yet and I didn't want to start. The ache was beginning to settle in, making me groan when I moved. Tearing my eyes off of Crowley I forced myself off the bed, grabbing a half-finished bottle of Jack Daniels from the bedside table before leaving the room. Never once looking back or saying a damn word. I didn't want to. I didn't want to break the illusion that all this was was just amazingly good romp. That's it…that's all it'd ever be. And that I could somehow fool myself into thinking that I wasn't in love with the demon.
Shuffling my way to the bathroom I took my time in the shower, drinking the whiskey while I washed sweat and sex off of me, letting my mind cloud. I didn't try to think, didn't want to and didn't have a need to. Let myself get pleasantly dizzy, dulling even the pain I felt. It'd hurt a damn lot in the morning, I guessed, judging by the way Crowley had held me. More bruises I'd have to hide from Bobby too. At this point I'd be spending more money on makeup than booze.
What felt like an eternity later I finally stumbled out, leaving the nearly finished bottle on the counter, a towel wrapped around myself for warmth. Wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets and sleep. Sleep for a very long time. But walking to my room, I found that Crowley was still there. Laying underneath my sheets, arms behind his head and a slight smirk on his lips when he saw me.
"Get the hell out." I murmured, my words half slurred together as I shuffled to the closet, careful not to sway.
"Lotus, you wound me with things like this. Make me feel so cheap." Crowley mocked. But his words cut through me like a jagged knife, making me sneer as I found something to swear to bed.
"Oh…does it make you feel cheap?" I slurred, looking back at him with a venomous glare. "Cheap as a junk-yard, maybe?" he didn't need it to be spelled out. I saw the frown that had creased Crowley's forehead, making him sit up a little, arms down to his sides now. "Now get out…I want to sleep." I murmured, walking to stand at the edge of the bed.
Either he was that quick or I was that drunk, but Crowley managed to wind his arm around my waist, tugging me almost harshly into bed beside him. Covers so damningly warm against my skin…he was warm too. And he was comfortable. The way he kept his arm around me, almost forcing me to his side…it was comfortable and warm and I just wanted to sleep. "Now, as much as I'd love to talk about this now I have a distinct feeling you might not remember a bloody thing when you wake up." He murmured next to my ear, his lips pressing to my shoulder as he turned on his side. "So how about you get some sleep, hmm?"
"Can't you just fucking leave?" I managed to say, words soft and drawn out. I didn't want him here when I woke up, I didn't want to talk about anything. I just wanted to leave this as it was.
Crowley's fingers were on my chin, forcing my head to the side so I'd look at him. And even drunk, I saw how serious he looked. Odd…he wasn't normally this serious, was he? "Love…we need to talk. Because at the rate you're going I'm going to lose a dear friend." He murmured, dipping his head down to kiss the corner of my mouth. I frowned, fingers on his arm, eyes trying to focus on the demon. A dear friend…was this how people treat friendships these days? "Now sleep."
I grunted in response, turning my back to him. But his chest still pressed against me, arms around my stomach like he was reluctant to let go. "I just want you to go." I managed one more time, eyes sliding shut easily.
He was so goddamn warm. Crowley's lips pressed to the back of my neck, sending a shiver down the length of my spine. "Don't make me force you into sleep, love." He chuckled, his words vibrating against my skin.
It wasn't hard to sleep. What with the alcohol running through my veins and the exhaustion from the sex…it wasn't hard. I just wished that, once I did fall asleep, I wouldn't have to wake. Because I didn't want to talk to Crowley, I didn't want to discuss a goddamn thing. I didn't want to have feelings for him either, but apparently universe was becoming a little vendetta seeking bitch and I had somehow pissed it off.
...yeah...I've got nothin' guys.
Thanks for being patient about this. Life just...sucks...in the worst way possible and I cannot seem to catch the smallest of breaks. But, I'm still writing :) So there's that at least...never mind the fact that its porn, apparently, but you know...what can ya do?
Also, if you'd like a soundtrack for this chapter just listen to Simon Curtis...basically anything by him...sets a romantic mood.
Thank you for the nice comments reviews, though. It pushes me to write more :) And does give me warm fuzzy feelings inside. I love you all!
~xxx
Sylleth