Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: The final chapter.
III.
This is wonderful. Theta's wonderful. This is their first time making love and it's everything she hoped it would be. He is gentle and thorough and exactly the sort of lover she'd always imagined she'd have.
The way he fits between her thighs and fills her, stretching her wide and making her toes curl in pleasure. This. This. This. She moves with him, panting as he thrusts into her. Hands and hips and lips all over her, covering her, marking her, claiming her.
She is his, finally, fully. She was been waiting for this, for him. Everything about their relationship has been so right, so perfect that sometimes she wonders if she's dreaming. But, oh, oh, how could she be? She could never have imagined someone so unexpectedly right for her. She doesn't deserve him, doesn't know how she managed to attract the attention of someone like him, but she doesn't care – oh, fuck, she couldn't care right now.
Everything about this moment is as it should be – his breath on her face, his voice whispering in her ear, his body lean and hard against hers – he's everything she wants.
…Except she can't get another man out of her head.
…
She's everything he hoped she would be, soft and yielding and perfectly pink and yellow. She's fantastic, the way she opens her heart and her body to him, welcoming him at last, at last.
They've only been seeing each other for a few weeks now, but it feels like much, much longer. Their relationship has been a whirlwind, but he feels like he's known her forever. She fits into his life like she was meant to be there, like there was a void that until now he had been trying to fill with all the wrong things – a square peg for a round hole.
(No, he thinks, horrible metaphor.)
He trembles as he holds himself above her, in her. Fuck, she feels amazing. He can't help think of tightness, even tighter than her slick, hot muscles around them. He is used to going slow, to waiting.
(Again – no, he gives his head a little shake. Think about Rose, Rose, Rose.)
When he does move, it's an even, steady pace – in and out – smooth strokes, fluid and controlled. He doesn't want to hurt her by moving too fast, too rough.
(Stop that. Stop it! Get your head back in this game.)
…
He's perfect. He really is, but perfect isn't what she wants right now. She doesn't want slow and tender; she wants him to fuck her. She aches for him to move fast and hard and rough and now. She needs more, more, more. She scrapes her fingernails down his back to his bum, hoping to inspire him to move faster.
Please, she whispers. Please.
He groans in answer as his hips move erratically against hers, stuttering in their rhythm, creating a deliciously unexpected friction. She wraps her legs tighter around his hips.
Yes, she breathes in his ear. Oh, yes…
…
She is going to be the death of him – an exquisite death, but a death all the same. He'll never be able to hold back if she keeps doing that, with her fingers and her wanton little whispers and her legs so smooth and tight around him. He just wants to make sure this is good for her. He's not sure what she likes, how much is too much, but he can't hold back anymore. He's tired of trying to.
He drops his mouth to the curve of her shoulder and bites gently, picking up the pace of his hips.
…
She feels it building, a coiling heat in her belly. Finally, he's moving, giving her what he needs. She can't do slow and gentle, can't get off to his sweet lovemaking. She wants to be fucked, fucked like a drunken slut in an alley.
She hates herself for thinking so.
…
Without thinking, he pulls out, flips her over, and enters her again, his thrusts rough and hard and merciless. He grips her hips and slams home over and over and over. Oh, he can't stop. He needs this, needs this, needs this to come.
He hates himself for thinking so.
…
This – this was what she wanted all along. She gasps, clenching the sheets in her fists, pushing back against him.
…
This – this is how he wanted her, on her knees, letting him have control, letting him take her like this.
…
She is close, so goddamn close. Just a little more…
…
Any moment now, he knows it's all going to end.
…
Oh god, oh fuck, oh…
…
This is it, this is…
…
She cries out.
…
He curses, groaning.
…
Bliss.
…
Relief.
…
But also, guilt.
…
He feels ashamed.
…
She was thinking about Harry.
…
He'd been thinking of Koschei.
…
She curls into his side, hiding her eyes from him.
…
He holds her, wondering what it was they just shared.
…
She's not sure of anything.
…
He knows he loves her.
…
I love you.
…
I love you.
…
Secrets.
…
Lies.