I've decided that I'm going to post these in my own order. I'm writing them all out of order, so I think I'm going to post them out of order as well. (: So anyway, I didn't know which one to post, so at the request of garrys-wife on tumblr, here's the next one!

(oh and remember that T rating I gave this challenge? Yeah, totally applies for this chapter riiight here. Don't worry, nothing graphic!)

Prompt Word #26: Passion

He would pick her flowers. Red roses, and blue roses, since they were so important to them. She would thank him, and wrap her arms around his neck, like always. He would return her embrace, and then give her a peck on the lips. After a fit of nervous giggles from her, he'd give her another kiss. And another. And another. Until soon they were both participating in a heated war of tongues.

His hands would rest on her hips while hers traveled up his chest and settling on his shoulders. She would angle her head to deepen their kiss, and he would begin moving with her to lay down. She was on her back, and he was straddling her, their lips never parting. His hand slipped underneath the fabric of her shirt, gently caressing his thumb on her hipbone. He could feel her shudder and he enjoyed the moan that escaped her throat.

Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, and he let his other hand rest on her bare thigh, slowly traveling up the smooth, pale flesh. The way she squirmed underneath him only made him want more. He wanted to hear her scream, hear her beg.

Their lips parted, and he trailed his mouth down to her neck, grazing his teeth against her sensitive flesh. Her hands wrapped around his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. His lips pressed firmly against her neck and ran his tongue over it a few times, before he began sucking at her skin. She gasped, angling her head so he could have better access.

His right hand rested at her thigh, his fingertips threatened to wander underneath her skirt, and his free hand traveled up her body, all the way to her shoulder. He trailed it down her arm, and met her hand, intertwining their fingers together.

"G..Garry..."

...

"Garry?" Ib's voice called to him.

Garry sat up from his couch, blinking in surprise. His face was burning up—due to the massive blush that now covered it, he presumed—and his level of arousal was skyrocketing. His trembling hand pulled at the covers, bunching them up at his waist. He swallowed hard.

Finally, his gaze set on Ib. "You were rolling around a bunch," she explained. "Were you having a bad dream?"

"N-not a nightmare," Garry explained to her, still trying to hide his arousal. He felt like the entire blanket wasn't enough. "Just a... just a weird dream."

Weird? Yes. Bad? ...maybe not so bad...

Ha! Yeah, in Garry's dream, you can choose whether or not Ib is still nine years old in the dream. But in the waking world, she is. I, personally, like to think she's still nine in the dream because I'm a total Ibcon... er, I mean, it makes Garry feel awkward, and I like making Garry feel awkward. :3 Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and stay tuned for more!

Also, if you drop a review, please leave a little note about which prompt you'd like to read about next. :3 I appreciate it.