John carries Sarah through the open doorway of their bedroom. The feel of the night ocean breeze filters in through their window, tickling his skin with goosebumps. God how he loves this girl. And not just because he thought she was beautiful and out of his league and he wanted her, but also because she was smart and stubborn and determined and fiercely loyal. She was everything he thought his partner would be and he was determined never to let her go.
John pushes her swiftly backwards until her back hits the mattress, his other hand winding into her hair at the last moment, shielding the back of her head from potential harm. There's something desperately appealing about the care in that thoughtful little gesture, a sharp contrast to the harsh press of his hand to her breast, but before she can do more than whimper her approval he pulls back. John pulls his shirt off in one swift motion. She's looking up at him with love and adoration in her eyes. Those beautiful eyes he gets lost in.
He leans over her, both hands on either side of her head, supporting himself with his arms. Their foreheads touch and for one still moment they stay that way, breathing together, melding into one. And then her lips find his in one swift movement. She is lost. And she wants John B. to be her anchor.
He tastes like the sea and smells like fresh cotton, salty from the waves he surfs and fresh from the laundry they dry in the sun.
She is enthusiastically pulling him closer to her, enveloping him, her lips desperately seeking his. And John Booker Routledge came undone. He needs her like he needs air, or water, or hell, anything.
And her body is responding to him, telling him that she feels the same way. She is all heat and flailing limbs, clawing at his back, arching her body into his. She pulls him down, down until he is completely parallel to her body, touching every nerve, leaving her on fire.
Luckily he doesn't mind. In fact, Sarah suspects he rather likes her little possessive streak. He certainly makes no effort to remove her grasping, greedy hands from his neck and when she nips at his lower lip he only groans a nonsensical, vaguely pleased note in the back of his throat, his hands starting to creep upwards, tickling her ribs as he traces a path. The rough pads of his fingers from years of fishing and hard work on the soft skin of her body feels so impossibly good.
He takes his time undressing her, moving achingly and frustratingly slowly. Sarah seems unsatisfied with his pace, and pushing him off her, she rips off her own top, unclasping her bra in a practiced motion, baring herself to him. John's answering groan reverberates all the way to the ceiling above them and right back down, right to the very tips of her toes.
He snakes his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. Both of them moan as their skin makes contact. John wastes no time now. He is kissing her everywhere. He starts at her perfect mouth. He kisses and nips and teases as she writhes beneath him. He then begins trailing his lips along her jawline, brushing back and forth achingly slowly. He moves to her neck, licking along the hollow of her collarbone, reveling in how soft her skin is. The scent of her intoxicates him. He is drunk off this moment. He wants it to last forever, but he knows his body couldn't make the same promise.
He moves to her breasts, the ones that fit perfectly in his hands. He kisses, licks, nibbles, and tugs. He tortures her breasts so sweetly until she thinks she might explode. Her breath is loud and gasping, and her moans have grown more and more incoherent.
He wants to see more of her. He tugs her shorts off, barely taking the time to look at her panties before they're removed too.
He moves his mouth back up Sarah's body. As he reaches the dip between Sarah's breasts, he looks up at her face, seeking further permission. But her head is thrown back, her fingers clutching the sheets on either side of her, and she had a smile on her face. Not even really a smile, a satisfied smirk. John couldn't help but grin as well.
"Yes," she says, whimpering the word as he lowers his head to her ribcage, tracing the hollows with his tongue. She seizes his head, dragging his lips back up to hers. "God, baby, yes–"
He makes a guttural noise, the sound going right to the core of her, right where she's been aching for him for hours now. Days. Always.
She sucks in a breath, her eyes fluttering closed as he ducks his head and presses a series of feather-light kisses against the inside of her thigh. He traces a slow, tortuous path, every press of his lips landing a little higher, a little closer, and then, just when he's almost where she needs him he suddenly moves his head away, dropping right back down to where he started.
"John please!" she all but screams.
He growls his approval for the sound of his name on her lips, and suddenly it's too much for her again – too good – to look down and see him there, hovering, looking at her like she's a goddess on earth.
He is loving her, worshipping her, his heart feeling like it might explode from the emotion. He never knew it could be like this. He never realized that one seemingly insignificant day of running from Child Protective Services would lead to his association with this girl. That fate would intervene and gift him the honor of loving Sarah Cameron. And being loved by her in return.
She is squirming above him still, pushing her center towards his face, which was still directly between her legs. They have not done this before, and John B. is nervous. He wants to be good, he wants her to enjoy it. He has talked to JJ and Pope about this of course, but the abstract is entirely different from doing the real thing.
He moves his head, lining up directly with her folds. He looks up at her, their eyes locking. His eyes ask her, and she nods her head, giving him the permission he didn't have to vocalize.
And then his mouth collides with her. She is hot and wet and tastes amazing. He tells her as much and she whimpers in response.
His head moves between her thighs as he sweeps his tongue in lazy, slow movements, the ones he would do forever if he could. Sarah knows she won't last if she keeps watching him.
He swirls his tongue around and around, leaving no part of her unexplored. She is writhing now, hands gripping his hair, urging him onward. John is mesmerized by Sarah in her passion. How the carefully constructed girl he loves comes undone because of him. He feels powerful, proud.
He keeps doing this, even after his tongue tires, for as long as she wants. Whether it's 10 minutes or twenty or an hour, he would give all of himself to her.
Suddenly she gasps.
"John, John, I'm close, I'm so close, please keep going, please don't stop I -"
A shriek rips from her lips as she crescendos, her juices flowing freely into his mouth, which he swallows happily. She is panting above him, coming down from her high.
"That was . . . . so good, better than I ever expected and I love you so much- -"
He silences her with a kiss, open-mouthed and filthy and everything she wanted from her first love. From him.
She pulls back, grinning mischievously.
"Okay Vlad, your turn."
She flips their bodies, so she's now above him, looking down at her incredibly gorgeous boyfriend.
"Sarah are you sure? I know you've never done this and I don't want to pressure you."
She loves him for asking.
She doesn't even respond, just pushes up onto her hands and knees and with one swift movement, takes him into her mouth.
His hips immediately buck against her with the sensation. He growls like a man possessed. His fists clench the bed sheets as he practically lifts them off the bed from the power of his pleasure. Sarah bobs up and down, fully tasting him. She is surprised how much she enjoys it. He is hard as granite, yet his skin is so soft. He is completely smooth, making it easy for Sarah to slide her mouth up and down the length of him. John begins to shake underneath her, quaking with the intensity of the feeling. But then he abruptly stops her and grabs her face, pulling up her chin to meet his face.
"Do you want me to fuck you Sarah?"
Just the offer alone – issued in that low, rough voice that he has never used before – is enough to make her knees weak. She gives in at once, grabbing him once again and rolling him on top of her. And she doesn't tell him that the answer is yes, she shows him.
She spreads her legs for him and frantically nods her approval. For this. For him. For anything he wants.
He kisses her roughly, his hand on her throat, and she feels her cheeks heat at the realisation that she can taste herself on his tongue.
Dropping her head to his neck, she presses her lips to the bare skin at his open collar, kissing a haphazard, artless path up towards his jaw while her hand moves between them, guiding him to the very core of her, which is so ready for him.
She really shouldn't like it – his rough treatment, but when he stares hungrily at her dishevelled state she can't find it in her to be anything but desperately, shamelessly pleased. Curling a hand around his neck, she drags his lips back down to hers, trying to tell him with her tongue what she can't quite find the courage to say aloud – that she likes it when he loses control like this. She likes being the reason for it.
Sliding one arm around her waist, he kisses a swift path down her neck to her breasts, dragging his tongue against the exposed skin until she can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but sink her hand into his hair and hold him there.
"Hmmm… Sarah I'm not sure," he said. "Are you ready for me?"
Sarah nearly screams as he slips one finger inside of her.
She writhes beneath him, her hair wild against the pillow, her limbs quivering, and her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to regain control over her body.
Another finger slides into place next to the first. "So warm," he whispered. "This part of you will always belong to me now, do you understand?"
She snaps her head up and down, frantically nodding as her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Sarah. Look at me."
Her eyes meet his, seeing the glazed and lustful look that she knows must be reflected on her own face.
He looks into her eyes for one long moment, and she bites her lip, waiting for him to fulfill what they both want.
And then he plunges in. To the hilt.
It doesn't hurt at all. In fact, it thrills her. He is taking her in a way she never knew she wanted. He is just rough enough, while obviously still watching her reactions for any signs of discomfort or displeasure. But he finds none. She is an animal, hungry for more of him. She thrusts her hips up, meeting him stroke for stroke, somehow hungry for more.
His eyes practically roll back at the way she feels around him. She is tight and warm and she feels like velvet around his cock. He groans her name over and over, fully sheathed in her. John starts to thrust in and out rapidly. He is frenzied, trying to get them both to an apex. Sarah bucks and mewls beneath him, and he feels the build-up inside himself.
"You're mine," John says hungrily, his eyes never leaving hers.
His mouth takes hers again as one of his hands snakes up to caress her breast. She is utter perfection beneath him, her hips rising to meet his, with a vigor that matches both of their rising passions.
"Oh, God, Sarah," he moans, his ability to form flowery sentences completely lost in the primitive heat of the moment. "You're so good. So good."
"John," she pants in return, "I'm not made of porcelain. I won't break. Harder, please."
Sometimes he likes this – to hear her beg. But not tonight. Tonight she doesn't have to ask. And like always, his name on her lips seems to do something to him. His jaw tightens, his movements becoming a little wilder, a little more powerful.
He begins to move quicker within her, each stroke bringing a new wave of sensation that spreads and burns through her body. His hips grind into hers, frenzied in their power, thrusting, rotating, stroking her until she was certain she must be on fire. She clutches at him, not certain whether she was trying to bring him closer to her or tear him away.
"Yes," she says, gasping her approval. "Yes – like that."
Soon he was a burning man. Sarah's moans spurred his passion, his desire to bring her to her peak. Her nails dug into his bare back, her heels locked around his hips. She began to tremble beneath him, practically thrashing about in her ecstasy. John kept pushing, whispering to her over and over in her ear.
"Come on Sarah," he rasped. "Come for me my love."
Sarah keeps taking every inch of him, loving the feel of him in her. She didn't know she could ever feel this way with anyone, but now she was feeling this with John B. and it was magic. Her eyes were squeezed together and feels herself starting to spasm around him. He's still urging her on, tickling her ear with his hot breath.
And then it came upon her, in a lightning wave of pleasure. Her body exploded, and she cried out, unable to contain the intensity of the experience. She saw stars behind her eyelids. Her limbs shook with the force of her orgasm. She screams out John's name, both thanking him and begging him to join her.
He feels when Sarah crests. Her muscles clamp down around him, squeezing him in a way that was almost painful. But it was what John needed. He had made this strong, self-assured woman beneath him reach an apex she had never had before. He was the first man to have her, and then and there he decided he would do his damndest to make sure he was the only man who ever would.
John thrusts into her harder, and then again, and again. He calls out as he climaxes, her name a prayer and a benediction on his lips, and then he collapses atop her. His cock jerks inside of her, giving her every last bit of himself.
They lay that way for several minutes, with him still inside her, as they both regained their senses.
Sarah had never felt such bliss. She felt whole, she felt complete. She gazes at John's sweat-drenched face, his mouth open as he breathes heavily, his eyes fluttering open to look at her through impossibly long lashes.
John slides up next to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her head. He has never felt this peace. It was like every broken piece of him had been put back together.
He tilts her chin up to look into her eyes. He has something he needs to say.
"Sarah Cameron for the rest of my life," he vows, "I will love you. For the rest of my life. I promise you. No matter how long that is, no matter how many years we have together. I will lay down my life for you. I will honor and cherish you. I will—" He was choking on the words, but he doesn't care. He just wants to tell her. He just wants her to know.
"I want you to carry my children Sarah. I want to watch you swell with them, and I want to worship you every single day. I want to raise them with you, not as a Pogue or a Kook, but as their own independent people. And when you are not with child, I want to vigorously make love to you. I want to hold you in my arms every night as we fall asleep and kiss you awake each and every morning. You are my best friend, my partner, my soul mate. I never knew love could be this strong or powerful. And I think I was meant to find you, so you could show me what true love was."
Sarah can't stop the tears from flowing then. She struggles to breathe. Love like this was rare. She never thought she would be one of the fairy tales. But here is her very own prince charming.
She reaches up and kisses him once more.
"Promise me it will always be like this John B. Promise me when people ask our children if their parents are soul mates, they can say yes."
"Always and forever Sarah. Always and forever."
John keeps kissing her forehead, even as he feels her breath slow. He peeks down at her, and his heart swells when he sees she is dozing against his chest. She has a small smile on her face and she is snuggled into him as much as she can be. John carefully places his hand on her head, running his fingers through her blonde hair. He feels his own eyelids beginning to droop and he pulls her closer into him.
He thinks she is asleep, but then he hears her stir and whisper:
"You really bring the heat in bed, eh John B.?"
Leave it to Sarah to always keep him on his toes.