A/N: Hey guys, here is the next chapter. There's some more kinda smuttyness so watch out ;)
Happy reading!
The next morning when she opens her eyes, she's greeted by Stiles looking back at her. He grins and kisses her chastely. "Good morning."
"Mmm, morning" she replies sleepily, a small smile playing on her lips. His left arm is draped over her, his fingers drawing intricate patterns on the bare skin of her back. She wonders how long he's been up, if he slept well, and how long he's been watching her. She sighs, feeling happier than she can remember feeling in a long time.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks her, searching her eyes.
"Oh nothing." She replies, then thinks better of it. "Everything." She smiles.
"I always used to imagine this," He says. "What it would feel like to be with you, like really with you."
She watches him closely, her right hand absent mindedly playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. "Is it everything you imagined?" She wonders out loud.
"It's better." He breathes. She widens her smile, and he moves closer to her to kiss her again.
Yeah, it is better than I imagined too. she thinks, his lips are warm and pliable on hers.
She sighs when he pulls away, resting his forehead against hers. After a few minutes, that seems like no time at all, she uses her voice again. "We should probably pick up from last night, my mom will be back today." She says reluctantly.
He squeezes her tighter and shakes his head. "In a minute." He protests.
"Stiles!" She says, trying to pull away from his embrace.
He laughs at her. "Fine." He says, releasing her. "Come on."
She gets up from the bed and walks over to her dresser, where she pulls out a bra, a purple tank, and a pair of grey sweats. When she turns around after getting dressed, Stiles is looking at her, already dressed in his jeans, with his eyebrows raised.
"What?" She asks.
"I just never thought you'd even own sweatpants." He chuckles.
She rolls her eyes at him. "Oh shut up." She retorts. She really only has the one pair for lazy days like this, but she doesn't tell him that.
She pulls her hair up in a loose pony tail and sighs. He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. He places a soft kiss to her neck, and she feels goosebumps travel from her neck all the way down her arms.
She turns around to face him, that look of desire back in his eyes. She puts her arms around his neck and kisses him again, lips fitting together perfectly. She deepens the kiss and sighs into him, enjoying every second.
He slowly breaks away from her before he speaks. "Lyds, do you wanna clean up or are you looking for round two?" He smirks.
"Would you just stop talking?" She replies, and kisses him again before releasing him and sauntering out of her room.
She can hear him laughing at her as she makes her way down the stairs.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Once Stiles has his clothes back and Lydia's are put away, they end up laying on the end of her bed again.
Even though last night was amazing, she still doesn't know exactly where they stand or what they are. She's suddenly aware that she's not okay with not being with him.
Who would have guessed that?
He's focused on playing with the ends of her ponytail, her strawberry blonde hair tangled in his fingers.
She sighs and decides she needs to have this conversation before she loses her nerve, and before the outside world invades theirs again.
"So, what is this Stiles? She whispers.
He brings his gaze to her face, with those brown eyes that bore into her, like he can see everything she doesn't want the rest of the world to see.
"I don't know," He says tentatively. "What do you want this to be?"
"I don't know either." She says.
He sits up and she follows suit, crossing her legs in front of her. He scoots closer to her and picks up her hand to lace their fingers together.
"Well, what do you know?" He asks.
I know I don't wanna share and I don't wanna give this up, she thinks.
"Me either." He says, and she realizes she wasn't just thinking the words.
She blushes and looks down. "I didn't realize I said that out loud." She laughs nervously.
His other hand lifts up her chin so he can see her again. "Just be honest, you don't have to hide from me you know." He says.
She gives him a weak smile. "I know, I just still don't really know how to do that. The only person who knew me like that was Allison."
At the mention of her best friend, her eyes start to gloss over. They both know that loss and how much it still burns. He nods slightly and she can see the pain of it on his face.
"I know you." He whispers after what feels like eons of silence. "More than I think you even know yourself."
"I'm beginning to think you're right." She replies softly.
"I didn't say anything because I'm not sure how you'll take it, but do you remember what you said last night after we..?" He asks her, unable to compete the question. He looks more vulnerable than she's seen him look before, like he might break if she denies it.
"I do." She reassures him. "And I meant it."
"Okay." He nods. "Good." He drops his hand from hers and brings it to the back of her head. Then he pulls her to him, and kisses her desperately.
God I could get used to this.
She deepens the kiss, pouring her emotions into it. She wants him to know how she feels so he doesn't have to ask.
It's like their conversation continues without them saying any words. They seem to agree on one thing.
They both want this, whatever it might mean.
He turns her slightly, then lays her on back on the bed, never breaking their kiss. She brings her right hand into his hair, the other roams his back. She lets him into her mouth, and is filled with his familiar taste.
He kisses her like she'll never be his again, like this is all of her he'll ever get. Her emotions overwhelm her, kissing him back with the same passion.
His hands shed her of the tank she's wearing, which ends up on the floor at the foot of her bed.
His touch is different than the night before; it's more intense and caring and soft vs. the rough and desperate. He kisses his way from her lips to her neck, collarbone, chest and tummy. They're searching this time, like he wants to map out and memorize every inch of her with his lips.
She pulls his shirt over his head and starts to do some exploration of her own. She catalogues the feel of his muscles, the dips and rises of his body, they way they feel and they way he reacts when she touches him. He's fleshed out much more than when he took her to the dance; she remembers the feel of him dancing around the gym - but he's not chiseled like some guys who work at it.
She looks back up at him, and he locks eyes with her. It's different than the first time, which was lust filled and unknown. This is completely different and at the same time, exactly like before.
He brings her out of her sweats and she undoes his jeans, leaving nothing between them but her bra. He strips her of that too, before he rolls over to grab protection from the side table, much more confident than yesterday.
He rolls back on top of her and kisses her again deeply, his right hand partially in her hair and his thumb stroking her cheek. She feels so loved she could die.
When he enters her this time, it's like two pieces of the puzzle are finally fitting together. She sighs his name and she feels him smile in the crook of her neck.
They move together in sync, pouring feelings into every kiss and movement. He moves his lips from hers to her collar bone, finding that sweet spot again. He spends time on it, learning exactly what makes her gasp.
She decides it's time to roll him over, and he gasps in return when she does.
"God Lyds."
She smiles down at him, and they lock eyes. She starts to find her own rhythm, and he matches her thrusts. His hands hold her hips, thumbs grazing over her belly.
She feels herself getting close and he must sense it too, because he flips them back over. He rolls his hips to hit the spot he discovered the night before, and she falls apart underneath him as he releases his own orgasm inside her.
"I love you." He whispers as he comes down, and she finds herself whispering back "I love you too."
She can feel his breath on the skin of her chest as he rests there, and she doesn't want him to move. She feels like she should savour the moment somehow.
He goes to pull out of her but she resists, and uses her hands to bring his face to hers. She places a kiss to his lips before she allows him to move again.
He cleans himself and comes back to rest beside her, skin on skin and his arm draped over her. She feels her heart still beating fast, and she swears she can feels his too. He nestles his head in her neck, pressing light kisses to the hollow of her throat.
This is what love feels like. She thinks, knowing that this definitely wasn't just sex. He just made love to her, and her to him. And nothing will be the same.