So, this is a carefree chapter full of fluff.
Yeah, let's just call it fluff.
P.S It's not fluff.
Enjoy ;)
She invited Stefan over for dinner. She said she will cook. He laughed. She punched him, and he winced, noticing her punches are getting harder every time her fist meets a part of his body. He accepted the invitation.
She so kindly asked Jeremy to get the fuck out of the house for the night, and when he asked her to save him a piece of whatever she's making, since they have home cooked meals so rarely, she blushed like a red chilly pepper and pushed him through the door.
"Welcome," she got on her toes to kiss him on the lips after she opened the front door once she heard the doorbell ring.
His lips tasted like honey.
"Here," he raised his hand in the air once she detached her lips from his and fell back to her feet, "These are for you," her look falls on the bouquet of white roses in his hand.
She wraps her fingers around the thin, transparent paper in which the roses are, and a wide smile appears on her face as she buries it in the roses.
Roses are not her favorite flowers, but they will do. She wonders does he know her favorite flower. Has she ever mentioned it before?
"Thank you," she thanks him genuinely, opening the door wide enough for him to come in.
He eyes her in her over sized shirt and denim shorts which are barely visible under the dark blue shirt. He thought about how fucking sexy she looks dressed like that while stepping in the hallway.
He bit his lower lip.
"I have a surprise for you," she says as she takes the vase from the table and goes to the kitchen to fill it with water to put the flowers in.
"Oh?" he grins.
She takes a wash cloth from the kitchen counter and comes closer to him. "No peeking!" she exclaims while indicating him to turn around.
He may not be as smart as she is, but he knows when a hot girl tells you she has a surprise for you, you do everything she asks you to do.
"Close your eyes," she orders him as he turns around. So he closes his eyes. The next thing he knows she's tying a cloth around his head, over his eyes. He keeps quiet until she's done, though.
"How am I going to see the surprise with this thing over me eyes?"
She giggles.
She planned to stop doing that. She failed.
"You're going to guess," he can hear some noise.
"And what am I guessing?" he wiggles his lips, trying to detect the sound.
"What are we having for dinner, of course," the last sound he hears is her putting something on the top of the kitchen island in front of him. "You can start guessing now," she orders.
He wiggles his lips, trying to get a sneak under the cloth because he sucks at guessing, until he realizes there's no way to see anything, she tied it too well.
"How does it taste?" he asks the first thing he can come up with. Her answer will allow him to categorize what she prepared for them.
She giggles. "Depends on your mood."
Or maybe not. The food that depends on your mood?
"What color is it?"
She keeps quiet for a moment. "Skin color," she finally concludes, "There's some pink on it as well."
Hmm.
"Is it a cupcake?" he asks proudly.
She laughs lightly. "Cute, Stefan."
Is that a no?
"Is it big?" he licks his lips.
"Oh yes. Huge," she says seriously, "Human sized even."
What the..?
"Elena," he frowns, putting his fingers under the cloth tied over his eyes, "What's going on?" he unties the cloth, and when it falls from his eyes, he gasps.
She's lying on the kitchen island, her head propped on her elbow, her hair falling over the better part of her torso, naked.
Well, not completely naked, she's wearing some thin, transparent pink lingerie.
"You seem disappointed," she furrows her brows.
Disappointed? Is she insane?
"So, it's a table buffet," he cocks his eyebrow in her direction, smirking.
She laughs lightly.
He walks over to her, puts his hands under her knees and pulls her over to him.
"So, what did I do to deserve this.." he puts his fingers under the hem of her panties, "Feast?" he smirks.
"Well," she bites her lower lip, "Remember the car?"
Haha. Does he remember the car?
He just nods.
"Well, since I crossed one of my fantasies off the list, you should do the same."
He has no problems with that.
He pulls her panties down, slowly, over her legs. When he starts lowering his head in between her legs, she bucks. He looks up at her, confused.
"What are you doing?" she asks baffled.
Isn't it obvious?
"Well, I came here to eat.."
"Oh," she blushes, turning her head away.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just," she can't even force herself to look at him, "No one ever did that to me."
He gasps silently, but decides not to comment on it.
"Well, there's a first time for everything," he says instead.
She nods. "Just go gentle with me," she half demands, half pleads.
He smirks. "Always," and then, his head goes in between her thighs.
When she feels his breath, she gasps, because it's so close and so cold, and she's not used to that feeling. And when she feels his tongue probing into her, she separates her legs some more.
At first, it's weird. Her body is tense, even though he tries to relax her by holding her legs with his hands and caressing her skin with both of his thumbs.
After some time, he succeeds, and now he has to hold her legs because they feel like jello, and if he doesn't, they will collapse on the island.
"Mmm," she says, a pleasurable smile evident on her face.
She has no idea what he's doing to her, but she needs him to continue doing it. She never wants him to stop.
He tightens his hold on her legs, slowly pulling her closer to him.
By now, her mind is a big blur, of words and images, and soon, there's nothing by blackness. Her eyes fall shut and she bucks her hips.
She moans loudly when he hits the spot.
"Uh," she yells, thankful they're alone, and that the walls are thick.
Her hand flies on the top of his head, trying to keep him where he is.
"Stef," her fingers go through his hair, "Don't move," she half orders, half begs, "Right there," her voice is melodic, sweet, maybe even too sweet. Like it's not even her own.
He lets go off her legs and, somehow, she manages to keep them up. One of his hands falls on her left thigh, and the other travels over her stomach to her chest, slightly squeezing her breasts.
"Oh," that comes as a surprise to her, additional pleasure.
Everything is becoming more intense. Smell, temperature, noise coming from the outside, pleasure. Soon, she's aware of everything, but at the same time she can't concentrate on anything else but pleasure.
She pleads and begs and she's not sure what she begs for but she keeps calling out his name nevertheless, in between panting and moaning.
"I love you so much," she pulls his hair lightly, but he doesn't react to her actions. Is that allowed to say? Is it proper? Is it a mood dropper?
Doesn't seem to be.
"Oh my God," she screams, pulling her legs wide open when electricity goes through her whole body. "Stef, please," she cries out.
Her cheeks are red. Her whole body is. The sweat on her skin is prickling her stomach. She never knew a person can get sweaty by just lying in place.
She feels like her spine is going to protrude through her back, like every bone in her body turned into jello.
Then she tenses. Pulls on his hair a little rougher. Closes her legs around his head. Her muscles ache. Her heart is pounding like she's been running a marathon. Her eyes shutter to the back of her head.
She realizes she's coming, and her voice gets stuck in her throat.
Soon enough her body relaxes, her legs falling on the side. Her voice finally escapes her tightness of her throat, but all that comes out is sharp and repetitive breathing. He raises his head and looks at her face. Red, sweaty face. Her chest is rising and falling fast, continuously. Once he removed his head, she closed her legs back up.
She rolled off the kitchen island and landed on her feet, remembering the time she was ashamed of someone to seeing her naked. Not with Stefan. He seemed to appreciate her nakedness.
She stood in front of him, pushing him against a counter. She pulled his shirt over his head.
Sex with Matt was rather boring compared to this. Lights turned off, under the covers, always the same position. She felt some pleasure, though, and she thought that's how it's supposed to be. He was her first and she didn't know anything better.
And now she was having sex under the light of the day, completely naked, in the middle of her kitchen.
After unzipping his pants, she pushed them down his legs, alongside his briefs.
"What has gotten into you?" he asks confused while stepping out of his jeans and briefs.
"Funny," she smirks at him while pushing him onto the kitchen island.
He wasn't trying to be funny.
"No pun intended?" he watches as a devilish smirk makes an appearance on her lips.
"Get up," she orders.
And it was kinda hot.
He was pretty sure not taking orders from a hot girl during sex was a violation number 345 or so in the guy code, so he did as he was told.
She climbed on the kitchen counter and sat on top of him, leaning herself on top of him and kissing his chest. He had put his hands on her back, pulling them up and down, squeezing her ass lightly, pulling his finger over the trail of her spine, feeling her shiver on top of him as he did so.
Then she propped herself up, took him in her hand, and guided towards her entrance.
When she felt him inside of herself, she gasped in surprise, something she always did, something he immensely enjoyed. Watching that expression on her face.
"People make food on these things, you know?" she started moving herself up and down, putting her hands on the top of his chest.
"Did you know that you talk an awfully lot during sex?" he cocks his eyebrow in her direction.
Her hands travel to her back and unclasp her bra. She pulls the straps down her arm, and once the bra is off she tosses it somewhere behind herself.
"Silence is awkward."
Her hair is covering the better part of her torso, including her chest, but he didn't mind. Seeing her breasts bounce under her hair as she moved on top of him was enough for him.
He had put his hands on her hips and started fondling them lightly.
They went well together. Very well. In both sexual and romantic sense.
He was like a hurricane, throwing everything in front of him on the ground as he passed by. He has been wild and careless.
And she was like a still water. Maybe too still. Watching others making waves, crashing into the ground, but afraid to do so herself.
Now he's a little bit more careful, realizing that things break when they fall.
And she's not afraid to make waves anymore because she realized she's not a still water, she's an ocean.
"Are you satisfied with your dinner?" she chuckles while bucking her hips. Her voice is husky, words barely making it out of her mouth in between loud breathing and few moans.
"I still have room for more."
She smiles, closing her eyes. "You have a large appetite."
"What can I say?" he pulls his hands from her hips to her stomach, "You're an excellent cook."
Her skin is so soft. Like silk.
Melting under his fingertips. Like butter.
So bendable when he fondled it. Like rubber.
So pure, clear. Like a sheet of white paper.
She is perfect.
"Stef," she says loudly, and he knew exactly what it means. It meant she's close. She called for his name whenever she was close.
Her eyes flutter as she starts moving faster, wilder, her fingernails scratching the skin of his chest, making him grunt.
"Just," she barely says before her eyes fly wide open, "Oh, fuck me!" her eyes lock with his, and he notices something flash inside of them.
Her smirks at her. He loved when she talked dirty, even though it was rare.
"Oh yeah?" his smirk was still present.
Somehow she found time to blush.
"Oh come on Elena," he says a little annoyed, "Don't go vanilla on me now!"
She felt annoyance in his voice, so she lowered her herself down on him and moved his hands to her ass. "Yeah," she says seductively "I want you to fuck me," she returned him a smirk.
She stopped moving her hips, deciding it's his turn to do all the work.
He started moving himself slowly, holding onto her ass.
"Like this?" he asks her.
Her fingers traveled to his hair, ruffling it.
"Faster," she brought her lips closer to his ear and whispered.
He started moving himself faster.
"Like this?"
"Faster" she said louder than the first time.
He wanted to ask her is that fast enough but he lost his voice. She wouldn't be able to answer him anyway, her voice disappeared as well.
"Any more wishes?" he asked after few minutes of hearing her pant, moan and call out for him. After his throat became wet and words found a way to slide out of his mouth.
"Yes," she managed to utter. Her chest was pressing onto his. "Make me come."
He smirked and started moving himself faster in and out of her.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck.
And then, she screamed into his skin.
He felt her walls tightening around him, and that sent him over the top.
Her hands traveled to the back of his neck and she plunged her fingers there.
He squeezed her ass roughly.
Both of their bodies tensed and relaxed at the same time.
Her body was glued to his by all the sweat in between.
They stayed in that position for the longest time. She was lying on top of him, breathing heavily, and he was holding her, trying to catch his breath.
There was a smile on the both of their faces.
"I'm hungry," he declared after few minutes.
"Stefan," she said tiredly, "I can't anymore. I need rest."
He laughed. "No, I mean I'm really hungry."
"Oh," she chuckled, "I made spaghetti before you arrived. We only need to heat them up."
"I love spaghetti."
"I know, you told me before."
He wrapped his arms around here.
"I love you more, though."
"I know," she planted a kiss on his chest, "You told me that as well."
AN: I'm not sure if I'm any good in writing sex scenes, but I believe healthy sexual appetite is important in a relationship.