With her hands at his back, each small touch leaves burns against
it, the desire for her is all to real, and he can no longer blame it on
these ' comforts. ' Even if that's all he has ever known how to comfort
someone. With actions, instead of words. Maybe she could teach him.
He's never been a gentle man. Not like this. For his kids? Of course.
But this— no, this is all new. It's filling a bubble in his chest that would
need to POP. Or he would pop.

The touches were toxic. She was toxic. ( so far from it. ) He craved her
more and more, touches even MORE. He's got all of her, with her sadistic
ways could be so fucking TENDER. Her tanned skin looked so delicious
under him, he could run his tongue all down it and he so thrilled over it.
Knowing what she tasted like, he'd be in sin. Tom's listening to her
breath hitch at his slow movement, grinning lightly against her lips, teeth
nipping at her lower lip, tongue dancing slowly with hers, while he moves
inside of her slowly, so slowly it seems as if the world out there didn't even
exist.

A man could dream.

An arm is sliding down her side, his hips thrusting in and out slowly,
filling her completely, repeating. This sensation starting to blow him
away, this feeling. All of it. All of her. Hand placing around her side,
fingers wrapping around her, overwhelmed in his mind Rachel Scott
taking over him completely.

XXXXX

There's nothing in her mind but him. Nothing. There's no apocalypse,
no cure, no vaccine, no bruises, not bullet wounds. All there is here is
her, him, and what's happening in this moment.

Her hands travel up and down his back before one hand cups his cheek.
The tender kisses, the tender way he's taking her, everything is standing
still. Her stomach is in tight knots of pleasure, and her heart isRACING
despite how slow they're moving together. If she didn't know better she'd
call this something so much more intimate than sex. This isn't sex, this
is a whole other level of feeling and pleasuring one another. There's
no wild rush, no slap of skin. They move together as one. It's p u r e.

It's the utter opposite of what they just did. She loves the way he switched
gears, wonders if this is how he prefers it. She wants to ask, catalogs it in
her mind for later. Right now she wants to focus on the way his thrusts feel
against her walls, the way his body rubs against her sweet bud, pushing
her so close she might go sooner than she expected. There's something
about the slow pace that's making her even hotter.

His fingers clutching her side does make her writhe in delight, the first
movement her body has truly made under him; she has let him lead,
let him decide speed, rhythm, everything. Not that she's complaining,
he can take her anyway he wants and she's going to gladly accept.

She is enamored by how slow an he's going, and she's so right
there
, on the edge. The softest of moans escapes her swollen lips,
followed by his name, whispered, said ever so y, hand caressing
his cheek, eyes opening to watch his face.

"Tom,"

XXXXX

The build up was going to rip him APART. With each gentle movement
of his hips, each way his fingers gripped her skin, each way his lips
glided across her skin, this—- was going to consume hi e.
It felt as if they were in slow motion, compared to what their precious
fuck was just like. This wasn't– this wasn't just two people screwing
anymore. And perhaps he should change it. But the thought of that
alone has it already in pieces, dismissing it entirely.

It was sweet. It was innocent. It was pure.

His mouth is leaving hers, trailing kisses down her jaw line, nose pushing
her chin to the side to give him access, his hot breath against her skin,
teeth just ever so lightly nipping at the skin on her neck, his head still
gliding across her skin, not finished kissing the exposed skin, making a
trail of different kinds of kisses down the top of her chest, to her collar
bone, and shoulder.

With his name moaning out of her mouth, he nearly comes.Nearly. Sliding
his hand down to her leg, gripping the skin– his hips fall into a quicker pace,
deeper, meeting her hips every single time as the need for his release
gets stronger with each thrust,chest burning with complete desire as he hits
every single nerve he possibly can inside of her. Cyan hues open, mouth along
her chin, lifting his head up slowly, his hips rocking harder and harder. Fingers
are on his cheek, and he lets out a shaky breath not sure if he can handle this
feeling.

'God damn, Rachel.'

XXXXX

He's moving harder and faster against her now, hand on her leg, and
she's beginning to crumble as his eyes meet hers. Her name on his lips
rocks her all the way to her soul. She rubs his cheek with her thumb,
determined not to take her eyes off his and when she comes, she wants
him to see everything he's doing to her, inside and out.

Her other hands grasps his broad shoulder, clinging to him, her other leg
sliding up over his hip, her toes running down his calf. Her heart feels like
it could pound right out of her chest and she's forgetting to breath, lost
entirely in his deep blues and the feelings building inside her, her climax
rising to the peak before she falls. Small moans are falling off her lips,
soft,
and despite how much she wants to come around him again,
wants him to feel it, she wishes this would never end.

And then her eyes widen, instead of closing, in pure bliss as she comes
around him in sharp spasms, her walls quaking around him. Unlike
last time, she doesn't move, simply stares at his eyes, mouth open,
moans of ecstasy escaping, his name always mixed in there, more
than once. The leg rubbing his calf, hooks around his knee, and this
time there's no nails digging into him, just soft fingers holding on
for dear life. She feels incredible, like she's g o n e, lost in his
eyes as she quakes around his hard length. This orgasm shakes her
to her very core but she can barely move, doesn't want to break
this tender moment.