I catch her easily, like I’ve been doing it my entire life. Her legs wrap around my waist, tight enough that I wonder if my belt will leave an imprint beneath the leggings on her pale skin that I can trace later with my mouth.
Her lips slam into mine with no hesitation, no battle for control. Just pure want, affection, and admiration pouring from her lips and sinking so deep into my skin that I know I’ll never get her out.
I don’t want to.
I cup her ass, squeezing because it’s impossible not to, keeping her on me even as I pull away from her mouth to eye the stairs. I climb them, hoping I don’t send us both careening back down in my clumsy hurry.
She never stops, her mouth achingly sweet in little presses and licks against my neck, my chin, and my collar bone with her hand tugging lightly at my button down. I’m worried she’ll rip the buttons in her haste. I think I’d like her to.
My room is directly across from Freddy’s, the two on the right side of the second story, whereas Bennett claims the entire left half currently.
I slam into the side of my door jam, knocking us both into the door and wall like a small set of dominoes.
“Shit,” I start cursing, pulling her off of my neck to make sure she isn’t hurt.
She’s smiling, teeth bright against lips that are now flushed and swollen. I want to make every part of her flush, to match the slight pink running down her cheeks, neck and towards her chest that I can just see beneath the white long sleeve she’s wearing.
“Sorry. You okay?”
Sadie laughs, leaning in to kiss me again, tightening her legs around my waist. The groan that etches from my mouth doesn’t sound human, but I can’t help it. Her laugh. Her smile—that damn mouth of hers.
I kick the door closed behind us, tossing her lightly onto my bed.
“Where are your brothers?” I feel like kicking myself for asking, in the middle of this moment, but I’ll be damned if I take any more time from them.
“With Rora at the dorms.”
She’s stripping before I can say anything else, her shirt disappearing somewhere off the end of my bed, just a thin blue bra in its place. It looks soft, and I find myself frozen, waiting to see what happens next.
I’ve dreamed about this moment for months; dreamed about Sadie for months. It feels surreal to really have her here.
“Take off your shirt,” she demands. My hands work at the buttons furiously, slipping; and I’m sure it isn’t a turn on, how uncoordinated it is. So, I slow down as I slip it off and lay it across the desk chair in the corner.
I reach for my belt, settling just in front of her perch on my bed. But her hands knock mine out of the way, reaching for the buckle and slipping it out. It hits the ground with a thud that I barely hear over my racing heartbeat.
My jeans come off, leaving only black boxer briefs that she pauses on, before her hand tentatively reaches for the bulge beneath the fabric.
She’s touched me many times, always with her hand, usually while my fingers played between her thighs; but this is the first time I’ve let her really touch me, without trying to shift the focus to her.
She grips along my length, caressing me slowly.
Then, Sadie peers up at me. Gray cat-like eyes and a patch of freckles I know better than the back of my hand. Her mouth parts, my name whispered like a caress before she reaches for my waistband. A determined look passes over her face making that crinkle in her brow appear and I’m suddenly worried I’ll come before I’m even inside her.
I pull her hand away—ignoring the little frustrated growl she releases—and step closer, moving over her.
The lamp on my nightstand is the only light in the room, making a dusk-like glow around her as I press her back into the mattress.
“Your bed is so comfortable,” she moans as I settle my weight between her thighs.
“Sleep here forever, then,” I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the skin beneath her ear. I can feel the goosebumps ripple across her arm where my hand rubs up and down her skin.
My hand trails up her shoulder, pulling the little strap of her bra down until the soft, thin fabric reveals her small breasts to me. I suck in a breath at her perfect, pinked skin, leading my fingers across her little pink nipples.
“S-so good,” she whispers, her hands stretching up into my hair and pulling gently. I smile, obliging her silent demand and pressing my mouth to lick gently across her nipple.
She cries out louder than I’m expecting and my hands closes over her mouth as I look at her, grinning wildly.
I stretch back to hover over her and lean in towards her ear.
“The entire hockey team is in my kitchen,” I whisper, my hand trailing her side to tuck against the soft fabric of her thong, tugging it down over her hips. “So, maybe I should let you scream as loud as you want, Gray. Then, there’ll be no mistaking who exactly you belong to.”
“Oh god,” she whimpers, shoving my hand off her mouth, but gripping it in her own hands like a lifeline. “Rhys.”
“Fuck, I love that.”
She says my name again, as I press my fingers against her, finding her hot and wet. I glide into her easily, still as shocked as the first time kneeling beneath her in the showers, at how perfect she feels.
She comes, a keening sound from her lips before she’s sucking on air, pulling my hand to her mouth to bite on my fingers.
I want to be inside of her, so desperately I have to close my eyes and focus not to spill in my boxers like a teenager.
I know I can love her. I just don’t know if she’ll let me. And for now, this—her like this for me, soft for me. That’s enough.
As I slip my boxers off, she slides her bra completely off, bared beneath me. I lean over her to grab a condom from my nightstand and take a minute just to admire her, the back of my hand coasting her stomach and resting on her hip.
She’s staring too, but there isn’t that fervent need in her eyes like there usually is, like she might explode if I make her go any slower.
Her small hand grips my chin lightly, pointing my eyes to her—the move so similar to the times she’s attempted to take control before, but then her soft mouth parts on a breath and she asks, “Are you sure?”
My chest aches and I copy her move, except my hand caresses and cups her cheek. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
I almost say I love you but manage to strangle the words in my throat because I know she’ll think it’s ridiculous.
She smiles at me, her eyes vibrant in a way I rarely get to see, before they haze over at the first push of me inside her.
“Fuck,” she gasps, her hands pressing my shoulders for a second and I pause, a mix of apprehension and pride swirling. “God, I really forgot about how big you are. You’re going to tear my poor pussy.”
I kiss the bridge of her nose, sliding slowly in another inch. “Don’t be ridiculous, kotyonok. You can take it.”
She pulses at my words, moaning as the discomfort disappears and a little writhe of pleasure moves through her body. Another moan pulls from her as I press all the way in.
“Seems like your little pussy wants me,” I manage to grunt, but my voice isn’t rasping with sex like I intend. It’s grappling for some semblance of control as she grips me like a vise.
“I want you,” she clarifies, and it breaks the leash.
My hips snap, working into a steady, quick pace.
It’s almost ridiculous how much such a little thing can move and wiggle around beneath me. She’s driving me insane to the point I snap my hand out and steady her with a light grip on the back of her neck.
A grip she uses to pull me closer, forcing my weight more heavily onto her as I falter in my perfected pace, barely holding myself up on a knee.
“I’ll crush you.” I chuckle into the mess of her hair tickling my nose, pressing my hand to the mattress to lift up.
“I don’t care.” She smiles, a little giggle. “Please. Harder.”
Please. Giggles.
It’s never been like this before, so simple and perfect and playful. More than sex, something else is forming between us.
I work my body around hers, like a snake winding around her waist easily, lifting her off the bed and into my arms. So she feels closer to me without my entire body crushing hers.
The strong muscles of her legs grip my waist in a way that’s so comfortingly familiar, I nuzzle into her.
“I’m gonna come,” she says, her tone so breathy it’s almost a whisper.
“Come,” I whisper, my hand gentle against the top of her sex between her body. “That’s my girl. So good, baby.”
My words only drive her off the cliff faster, and I’m leaping right behind her, my body frantic with life and feeling and everything I’ve buried as I catch her mouth and move her hips up and down my length, coming so hard I’m sure I’ll black out.
When it crests, I keep her close and she wraps her arms around my neck, skin damp. Her head falls back against the cradle of my hand, eyes lazy as they take me in. She’s sleepy and sated, but I’m still wired. Peaceful, but desperate not to take my hands or eyes off of her for a second.
This is where she usually disappears and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.
“Shower?” I ask, combing back her hair. She nods and doesn’t wiggle or complain even once as I lift her and carry her to the bathroom. Only a hiss of breath as I ease out of her and lean her body towards the cool tile wall of the shower, making sure the water is warm enough.
I step under the spray first, pulling her carefully so that she’s the one under the water, using my soap and hands to suds up her body, gently cleaning and slightly playing with the tender space between her legs until she’s gripping my shoulder with her hands and stubby little nails.
I make her come again, slow and soft, and she rests against me as I wash her hair. Her eyes never leave mine, despite the languidness of her body, she seems in awe of me.
It makes my chest throb.
The way I feel about her is real, so deep it feels like a cord loops from inside of me to her, tethering me to her. But Sadie’s an enigma, all steel walls and eye rolls. I don’t know how deep this is for her, and I’ll be damned before I scare her off with my level of need for her.
I’ll take any of her she’ll give to me—a dog begging for scraps, until she lets me in. I’m patient.
I can wait.
Once we lay back in the bed together, naked and warm beneath my blankets, I stroke her back even as she faces away from me and scoots closer to the edge.
“I’m not really a cuddler,” she argues over her shoulder, biting on her lip.
“Okay,” I acquiesce.
But I wake up with her little body pressed to my chest early the next morning, and blissfully cancel every alarm to fall back asleep with her in my arms.
