Lovely To Sleep With You
Word Count 5.8K. Joel Miller x f!reader. Immediately follows Lovely To Be Rained On With You but can be read alone. After getting caught in the rain and seeking shelter in a cabin, you fall asleep in Joel's arms only to be forced awake to a horrifying sight. We learn how Reader and Joel met and Ellie's there too.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, post-outbreak, canon-typical violence, smut, fingering female receiving, oral female receiving, finger sucking, unprotected piv, creampie
a/n: once again I am publishing this despite feeling it is not polished enough but I'm tired of it sitting in the drafts lol. Thank you in advance for reading, liking, and reblogging, it really means a lot. #chantersboardwritessometimes for other written stuff
Can be found on AO3 if you'd prefer to read it there
Lovely To Sleep With You
The dangerous torrential storm has finally weakened to typical bad weather. Rain batters the cabin, its weathered roof leaking and forming puddles on the dull and damaged flooring. The room is heavy with moisture, filling the space with musty air. The insistent wind shakes the windows and whistles through small opened spaces.
Night had descended. Yesterday’s crescent moon was gone and replaced with utter darkness. The heat of the day was gone too, causing a chill in the air.
You lay against Joel on the old, sagging mattress with your cheek against his chest. You are both dressed only in your undergarments, your wet clothes scattered around the cabin with the hope they would dry by morning. Despite your bare body pressed close against his warmth, a shiver runs through you. Joel rubs a rough hand over your thigh and drapes your leg over his waist, pressing you even closer to him.
“I can start a fire,” he says tiredly, thinking of breaking down the old furniture for firewood. You lift your head and press a kiss to his neck. Your hair, still damp from the trek through the rain, brushes against his shoulder. A pang of guilt washes over him. He should do more to make you comfortable.
“We shouldn’t risk it,” you say, yawning as you return your head to his chest to listen to his beating heart.
Joel tightens his arms around you in response. He hadn’t seen signs of raiders or infected around, but you were right. There was no need to call unnecessary attention to yourselves.
You sit in silence with Joel’s chest rising and falling beneath you as his palms mindlessly rub patterns on your skin. He marvels at how soft you feel against him. His hand runs down your spine, over the curve of your behind, then over your thigh. Your body fits so perfectly against his. Why had he waited so long for this?
Why had you?
“When did you know?” he asks, his hands finding their way back on your waist.
You lift yourself up to look Joel in the eyes. “When did I know what?”
He places a warm hand on the back of your neck and rubs small circles with his thumb. Joel always had a hard time expressing himself. He had an even harder time getting others to express themselves.
“When did you start…” he pauses, mulling over his words while he commits your face to memory. Your confusion is still evident in the way your eyebrows scrunch together. Your lips are slightly parted and he swallows at the recollection of those lips pressed against his. You are so beautiful, he thinks. Really? Why had he waited so long? He decides to just blurt it out. “When did you start likin’ me?”
Your beautiful lips curl into a smile before emitting a soft giggle. The sound fills his chest with a lightness he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. You return to your spot on his chest, your sleepy eyes falling shut. “The first night we met.”
Joel is caught mid-yawn by your confession. “Seriously?”
“Mmm-hmm,” you mumble, already drifting off to sleep. “‘member that night?”
Joel closes his eyes, the exhaustingly long day catching up to him. “Yeah, I do.”
----
Ellie drags her feet, her worn sneakers picking up the dry dirt and leaving a plume of dust behind her. The sound of the coarse ground crunching underneath her is deafening in the quiet of the cool night.
“Ellie!” Joel scolds. It’s been fifteen minutes of nothing but the maddening noise.
“Joel!” The teen says back with a wag of her finger, her tone seeping with mockery.
Joel inhales deeply and takes a moment to compose himself. “Lift. Your. Feet.”
Ellie pouts. “But I don’t wanna trip again,” she whines. “It’s so fucking dark. Can we stop for the night? Please?”
Joel looks down at her. He could see in her posture that she’s tired. Truth be told they have been walking for some time, but the landscape had been mostly barren and too exposed. Joel felt it was unsafe to settle here.
“Just a bit longer,” Joel reassures. He points to a lone, single story house in the distance, the only appropriate shelter he could see. “We’re almost there.”
Ellie straightens her back, lifts her feet, and quickens her pace. “Good. I’m exhausted.”
---
Joel is already armed with his pistol when they walk across the porch to the front door of the house. Ellie stands behind him, her hand fisted around a blade, ready for whatever may be behind the door.
Joel wishes this wasn’t second nature to him. He hates that it’s second nature to Ellie. The hypervigilance, the violence, the terror. None of this should be normal.
Joel turns the door handle with ease and pushes the door open. He raises his pistol as he crosses the threshold. He quickly scans the room for danger but only finds a dusty living room. It’s obvious the place was picked through and deserted long ago. Drawers are left hanging out of a desk against the wall, a pile of books rests near an overturned bookcase, shards of a broken mirror shine against the moldy, old carpet.
He walks through the house with Ellie a safe distance behind him, while room after room is searched and found just as empty as the one before. He glances at her when there’s only one room remaining, its door nearly closed against the frame. Ellie tightens her grip on her knife and gives Joel a nod before he nudges the door open with his foot.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Joel instinctively pushes Ellie back as he looks across the room and sees you.
———
You’re sitting on the floor by a small pile of pillows, a threadbare blanket is puddled by your feet. Your bloody hands shake as they hold a gun pointed at Joel’s chest. Despite the fear that tightens your throat, you square your shoulders. You stare at the man, stare at the gun pointing back at you.
He takes you in, his eyes looking past the barrel of the gun and towards your blood soaked arms. He can see where tears have left streaks down your dirty and bruised face. He looks into your wide eyes and sees the panic there. He’s all too familiar with that panic.
“We mean no harm,” he says, making no attempt to lower the muzzle trained on you. “We were only lookin’ for a place for the night.”
You say nothing. Too afraid to talk, too afraid to do anything at all.
“We’ll leave,” he takes a cautious step back. “We’ll find somewhere else.”
You watch him take the girl’s hand as he takes another step back. The gesture is protective and filled with care. It makes you envious. How lucky is this little girl to have someone protect her? He pulls her behind him, keeping the line of your gun only on him. You look into his eyes and in that moment you think he might be just as terrified as you are.
“Wait,” you whisper, lowering your weapon. You can let them go. You should let them go. In this world one wrong decision is the difference between living and dying. But something about them feels right. Something about them feels safe.
You point your weapon to the side and pull the trigger. The gun clicks, the firing pin striking against nothing. There’s no ammo. You haven’t had ammunition in weeks. With the charade of force exposed, you chuck the useless weapon aside.
“It’s not loaded,” you say, hoping your intuition was right, hoping this man shows you mercy. The pair stand still, neither advancing or retreating. You can tell the man is calculating the situation, weighing all his options as his eyes flit between the discarded gun and your open bloodstained palms. You try to push the scale in your favor.
“There were awful men around here before.” You wipe your hands on your thighs attempting to rub away the gore. “Were,” you emphasize. “You should still stay here. It could be dangerous out there.”
His eyes narrow. “It could be dangerous in here,” he says, but you notice the subtle change in the way his shoulders have relaxed.
You shake your head. “I don’t think you believe that.”
“Maybe I could be dangerous,” he says, his hostile words softened by the lilt of his accent.
You pause, looking him over. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, exposing muscled forearms and clean hands. The hair that curls around his ears leads to a strong jaw cushioned by a closely cut beard. Despite the scowl etched into his face his brown eyes are warm and soft.
“I don’t think I believe that.”
You watch each other, seconds ticking by with nothing said. In the far distance the distinct screech of a clicker rings out. You raise your eyebrows in a silent statement: See? It is dangerous.
“I’m Ellie.” The girl still guarded behind the man says. She ignores the man’s grunt of protest and peeks her head around him. You give an encouraging smile and she steps beside him. She places a hand on his wrist and lowers his gun. “And this is Joel.”
You nod your head and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you,” you say, and you truly mean it.
A moment passes while Ellie looks at your arms. “Shit. That’s a lot of blood,” she says. “Are you hurt? We have bandages--”
“That’s enough,” Joel pulls the girl behind him again and motions down the hall. “Go out there.”
“But Joel--”
“Go. Now.”
In a huff Ellie turns on her heels and heads down the hall. Joel returns his attention towards you. With his fingers still wrapped around his gun he gestures down at you.
“People did that to you?” he asks. “You hurt?”
You shake your head understanding what he is truly asking. Are there bite marks underneath all of that? Are you infected?
“No, I’m not hurt.” You close your eyes and visions of your struggle with two raiders earlier in the day flash behind your lids. The memory turns your stomach. “I ran into some men that thought I’d easily give up my supplies.”
Joel nods but you can still sense his hesitance. “You’ll have to forgive me for not bein’ so trusting.”
“No, I understand.” You eye the gun in his hand and try once more to gain his trust. “You can check me for marks if you want.”
When his expression doesn’t change you take a deep breath and unsheath the knife from your belt clip. You handle the flat sides of the blade, still stained with blood, and offer the handle to Joel. “If it makes you feel any better you can have this too. It’s all I have.”
Joel looks at the knife and considers it. He wonders if any of this is worth the trouble. Surely he and Ellie could find somewhere else to rest. They didn’t need to stay here. They didn’t need to share space with a stranger. But then he looks into your eyes and finds sincerity there. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw genuine sincerity. With a sigh he shoves his gun into the holster on his hip and closes the distance between you. He gently pushes the knife back towards you and with a grunt he lowers to his knees.
“The girl out there? She’s very important.” Joel pauses as he looks down the empty hallway. “To me,” he adds.
You slide your knife back into its spot on your waist. “She looks like a good kid,” you tell him.
“She is,” he says and when his attention is returned to you there is a ferocity in his eyes. “I will do anything to protect her. You understand? Anything. ”
You swallow dryly and weakly nod, accepting the threat hidden in his words.
“Hey, Joel. You wouldn’t believe what I found!” Ellie comes down the hall, grinning from ear to ear, with a large bowl in her hand. “There’s a real life well in the back! You know, the kind you gotta pump and water comes out?”
“Yeah, I know the kind,” Joel says with a laugh as she places the bowl down between the two of you.
“I got some water in case you wanted to clean up.” She produces a clean piece of cloth and offers it to you. You hesitate to take it, somewhat in awe at her generosity. She really is a good kid.
Joel takes the fabric from her and motions out the door. “Go settle in. We’re leaving soon as the sun is up.”
Ellie waves her hand in a salute. “Yessir,” she says and marches back down the hall.
Joel dips the cloth into the bowl then squeezes some of the water out. “I’m gonna take you up on that offer to check you… just to be safe.” He waits for your hum of approval before he continues. “But I’m gonna clean your face first, while the water’s clean.”
You sit a little straighter and prepare for this stranger to touch you. “Yeah. Okay.”
Joel slowly raises the rag to your face and gently presses it against your cheek. The water cools your skin as droplets trickle down your neck. Joel takes his other hand and cups your chin, holding your head in place as his hand glides across your face.
His hands are large, so much so you nearly feel engulfed in them, but it surprises you how delicate he is. He moves smoothly, only applying enough pressure to loosen the dirt on your skin. He softly swipes the cloth underneath your eye with his thumb, not pressing too hard into the bruise that is blooming there.
He continues on, dunking the rag into the bowl and cleaning spots of your body with gentle, small circular movements then checking for abrasions. You watch him as he works, noticing the specks of gray in his beard and the broken face on his wristwatch. Your eyes follow the slope of his nose up to where his brows are furrowed in concentration. You notice his own face is covered in dirt and you recognize he smells of campfire smoke and sweat and greenery.
You wince when he brushes against your injured knuckles. “Sorry,” he whispers as he soothingly rubs your hand before continuing to scan your skin.
“I thought you were with them,” you suddenly say.
Joel pauses a moment to look you in the eye. “Hmm?”
“The men from earlier? The men I had to…” You leave the rest unsaid as you shake the thoughts out of your head. “I thought maybe there were more of them and they were coming back to kill me.”
You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. You have lived in this terrible world for years but nothing prepares you for the grief and anxiety that comes after you’re forced to take a life. Nothing prepares you for the fear that crushes your soul.
Joel drops the cloth into the bowl and the displaced water splashes onto the floor. His features have softened, the look of concentration replaced with sorrow. He almost whispers when he asks, “was that your first time?”
You blink and the tears roll down your cheeks. “I’ve killed many of those things but actual humans? I’ve never needed to do that before.”
Joel considers you lucky. It isn’t safe outside the QZs. Hell, it isn’t safe inside the QZs, but out here it’s different. Wilder. Thugs, thieves, the demented. They roam this land freely and do as they please. It’s a wonder you’re just now experiencing this. But Joel remembers the first time he killed a man. He remembers the first time someone died in his hands. He sympathizes with you.
“It might not be tonight,” Joel says, swiping away one of your tears. “Or maybe next week, or next month. But one day this feeling won’t be so crippling. You do what you gotta to protect yourself and the ones you love. Ain’t no shame in that. That’s just how the world is now.”
You nod as you take in his words. You do what you gotta to protect yourself and the ones you love. Joel takes your hands in his and gives a comforting squeeze. It’s the first time in a long time someone consoled you. The warmth from his hands travels up your arms and settles in your chest.
“I think I’m done here. I don’t see anything.” He lets go of your hands, taking the warmth and comfort with him, and takes his time to stand up. “I’m gonna check on Ellie, make sure she’s alright.”
He heads out into the hallway but stops under the frame of the door. “I, uh… I don’t know what you’ve got going on but we’re headin’ west. You’re welcome to join us. If you want. Maybe use that gun to scare off some other poor fool?” He asks with a chuckle.
You laugh, your cheeks heating from his jab at you. “Yeah. I would like that.”
----
Joel’s yelling wakes you with a jolt. Again, he calls for you from somewhere within the cabin, his voice tense and worried as your name leaves his lips.
You rub your tired eyes, having barely slept. The cabin is still dark, the sky is still the color of coal, the rain is still pattering outside. You sit up in the bed, your pupils slowly adjusting to the darkness. Then, finally, your eyes widen at what you see.
Across the room stands a man, the barrel of his handgun pointed at Joel. Joel’s hands are raised in surrender as he stands between the two of you. The man’s clothes are soaked through, his wet stringy hair clings to his face. He looks sickly with a pallid face and an unsteady stance revealing a weak and tired body. But it’s the handgun steadily pointed at Joel that is most worrisome.
“Joel!” You breathe, your hands instinctively reaching to your side for the rifle that usually dangles there, only to grab at nothing. You look past the intruder to where your weapon rests against the wall near the open door where you left it earlier.
“It’s okay,” Joel reassures, turning slightly to look at you. His bare chest rises and falls quickly, his obvious worry betraying his calming words. “It’s okay,” he repeats.
The man erratically waves the gun. “Make her get up!” he shrieks. An alarmingly inhuman sound rattles in his chest as his body shivers. “Make her open the bag! I want the bag!”
The man points to Joel’s backpack slumped against the bed. Inside are the medical supplies that are much needed back at camp where Ellie waits for you. Some very good people could use those supplies. It’s unfortunate, but this man already seems too far gone to have any use of them.
You slowly shuffle towards the side of the bed, hesitating to get to the pack. “We can help you,” you manage to say despite your tight throat. “Just put the gun away.”
“Shut up! Shut up!” He takes a step to the side to get a better look at you, his gun following you across the bed. He eyes your barely clothed body and a look akin to lust twists in his wretched face. Joel places himself in front of the man again.
“Ay!” Joel yells to grab his attention. “Keep that thing on me.” He takes a small step towards him. “What do you need?”
The man wails, his skin looking even more sallow than it did only moments ago. “Sweater... sweater! It’s so cold, so cold…” His mind seems to fog as he curls his arms close to his chest. Joel inches closer before the man’s concentration returns, drawing his weapon forward again. “No! Water! I need water!”
You sit on the edge of the bed, your fingers digging into the mattress as fear beats in your chest and cements your feet to the floor. Joel stands tall, strong, and commanding but you worry nonetheless. What would you do if something happened to him? How could you explain to Ellie that something happened to him? The man slowly tilts his head, his eyes beginning to go glassy.
You have never seen it personally but you have heard stories of when people turn. They get volatile as they teeter between living and not quite dying. There is a short moment, before the infection takes over, before the animalistic urges and increased strength and stamina come forth, when the person is vulnerable. But at each stage the person can still transmit their infection, each moment must be handled with caution.
“Water,” the man softly repeats. He lets out a slow, sorrowful moan, his body quickly losing its battle with the infection.
“I have some right here…” Joel says sweetly. He takes another step, coming within feet of the other man. “Right… here…”
In a flash Joel bounds forward, startling the man to attention. He grabs for the weapon but not before a shot is fired. You wince, closing your eyes and covering your ears as the loud sound amplifies off the walls in the small space. After a moment, when the shock has subsided, you jump to your feet and turn towards the scuffle.
All you can see is a tangle of bodies as Joel wrangles for the gun. You look at him, trying to see if he’s been hit, searching for any injury, but they move too swiftly, you can’t see a thing. Joel pummels the man with his fists, shoving him closer to the door as he does so.
The man howls, the noise completely devoid of humanity.
They are near the threshold of the cabin when another shot rings out. The sound startles you, your panic increasing, as your ears ring. You move forward. You need to help Joel. You need to make sure he’s okay. You only need to get to your gun.
“Stay there!” he yells before you can advance any further. Joel has the man by the collar, and is pushing him through the doorway, darkness swallowing them as they tumble outside.
You stand there frozen, your ear facing the door as you strain to hear something, anything, other than the rain. It’s only then that you notice the stream of blood trailing out the door.
Your eyes follow the path, starting at the scattered droplets that increase into an unbroken line of crimson. You take cautious steps forward, your eyes beginning to fill with tears at the thought of this blood being Joel’s.
He is not hurt, you force yourself to think. He cannot be hurt. Since the day you met him he has been your source of stability and security. He has been your savior and your sanctuary. You can no longer envision a life without him. And now that your relationship has progressed, now that he has touched every inch of your body and you have felt every inch of him, you don’t want to think of a life without him.
You amble over to the bay window, your mind racing with horrible thoughts as your chest tightens. You lean into the windowed space, your knees knocking against the wood, straining your eyes to see through the darkness and through the rain. He is out there and you need to find him.
Just when you set your mind on grabbing your rifle and braving the blackened woods in search for him, Joel steps through the door. You pause, your breath caught in your throat as you take him in. His hands are still curled into fists, his dampened body glistens from the rain, but otherwise, he appears unharmed.
“Joel?” You whisper, your tears finally breaking through and falling down your cheeks.
His face softens when he looks at you, his hands relax at his side, the tension in his shoulders loosens. “Sweetheart,” he says, his accent a sweet song to your ears.
In a few paces he is quickly in front of you. He cups your face with both of his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away your tears. You wrap your hands around his wrists. You need to touch him, you need to feel that he’s here.
“Are you hurt?” You ask, scanning his body for injuries.
“I’m fine. He didn’t get me.” He catches a falling tear with his finger. “I’m more worried about you.”
You sigh, pressing your face against one of his hands, the roughness of his palm grounding you. “I’m okay.”
Joel stares at you, weighing your words against the traces of dread that still lingers on your face. You do what you gotta to protect yourself and the ones you love. He pulls you in closer and presses his lips to yours.
You kiss him back, relief pouring over you knowing that he is alright. Your hands move to his chest, your fingers gliding across his wet skin as the kiss deepens. Joel’s hands leave your face to grab your waist where he pulls you close to him. His body heat envelops you as you moan into his mouth.
You love him, you think. You love this man and wish to be here in his arms for the rest of your life.
Joel breaks the kiss. “I’m glad you're okay,” he whispers against your lips.
You press your fingers into his chest, enjoying the feeling of the hair under your touch. You listen to the rain beat against the roof. “I love you,” you admit.
Joel smiles, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he quickly responds, “I love you, too.”
And then his mouth is on yours again, hungrier this time, as his tongue pushes past your lips. He grabs handfuls of your behind and pulls you into his hardening crotch. You moan again as you rub yourself against him, feverish with the need to feel him.
Joel’s own fiery need to feel you has him unclasping your bra and freeing your breasts. He takes one in each of his large hands and gently pinches your nipples. Your back arches into his grasp, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You lean back, lowering yourself onto the seat of the bay window, and push your chest forward.
Joel lowers his face and brings a pebbled peak into his mouth. His tongue dances across your nipple before he softly nips at it. You inhale sharply at the gentle pain and run your hands through his dark hair. Your breathing turns ragged when his mouth moves to your other breast, his tongue so warm and wet against you.
You rub your thighs together attempting to calm the ache that has been building there. Sensing your desire, Joel’s hand finds its way between your legs. You open yourself for him, moaning his name as his fingers drag across your panties, his fingertips finding you’ve already soaked through them. He moans against your breast as he pulls the fabric to the side and teases a finger between your lips.
“Already so wet for me,” he rasps as he looks up at you. His eyes are dark with desire. He watches you as he pushes a thick finger into you. Your walls tighten around him but your wetness allows his finger to smoothly continue on. “Look how fuckin’ wet you are.”
He begins to pump his finger in and out of you, your pleasure increasing each time he slips back inside.
Joel licks his lips. “I think there’s room for one more. But first…” Joel pulls his finger out of you and you whine at your emptiness. He wraps his fingers around the band of your underwear and pulls them down your legs. Once you're freed of the undergarment you spread your legs wide for him, pleading for him to return there.
Joel lowers himself between your legs. “What a beautiful pussy,” he whispers, running a finger across your slit. He places a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. Then turns his face and kisses the other. He leaves a trail of kisses on your thighs, each time reaching closer and closer to where they meet.
You whine again, your desire for him breaking you apart. “Please, Joel,” you beg. “Please.”
“Beautiful, needy, pussy,” he says before his broad tongue licks up your slit and settles on your clit. You moan loudly as he sucks on your bud and slips two fingers back inside you. He hooks his fingers upwards as he pulls his hand out and slams it back in again.
Your eyes close as the pleasure builds. The tip of his tongue circles around your clit and you gush around his fingers as they piston in and out of you. “Oh, Joel,” you cry and he continues, mercilessly, sucking on you and pressing against that soft spot inside you until your pleasure peaks and you fall apart under him.
Your fingers tangle in his hair as your orgasm plows through you. You grind your hips into his face, riding every wave until they settle into gentle ripples. Once the tension in your body has relaxed, Joel presses a quick kiss on your clit and slowly pulls his fingers out of you.
Joel rises and brings his fingers, wet with your arousal to your mouth. “See how fuckin’ good you taste,” he says and you part your lips. He slips his huge fingers into your mouth, coating your tongue with your own release. You suck around him, massaging his fingers with your tongue until they’re clean.
“Good girl,” he purrs as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. He leans in, his hard cock in his boxers rubbing against your mound, and brushes his lips against yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck, locking him in your embrace. You move your hips against his, demanding to be filled again, demanding the length of him.
Joel tuts. “Still needy?” He pulls down his boxers and lets them drop to his ankles. He takes himself into his hand and slowly pumps himself. Precum pools at the tip then slides down his thick shaft. He brushes himself against you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock and smearing your wetness onto him.
“Goddamn,” he whispers, lining himself at your opening. “So fuckin’ messy.”
Joel slowly pushes himself inside you, savoring the feeling of your tight walls making space around him. You gasp, tightening your grip around his neck as your body accommodates his girth. He pauses when he’s fully sheathed in you, his breathing already ragged.
“Goddamn,” he repeats, then slowly, inch by inch, he pulls out only to push back in just as slowly. Again and again he slips in and out of you, taking his time as he does so.
His pace is maddening. The slow strokes leave you wanting more. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
You wrap your legs around him. “Joel…” you don’t even care that you’re whining. “Fuck me. Faster. Please.”
Joel reaches a hand between you and softly caresses your clit with a thick finger. Stroke by stroke he increases his pace, snapping his hips deeper and harder into you.
“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks as the room fills with the sound of his body colliding with yours.
“I…” Your thought melts into a moan as Joel increases his speed. He’s so big inside you, stretching you wide open while his finger remains between your legs. With each swirl of his digit you clench harder around him, your second orgasm approaching even quicker than the first.
“You what, baby?” Joel asks as he plants kisses along your face. He snaps his hips into you, the thickness of him splitting you in two. “You want to cum again for me, hmm? Let me feel this beautiful pussy tight on my cock?”
You attempt to answer, willing your mouth to form coherent words but all that spills out is a strangled moan. A satisfied smile spreads across Joel’s face.
Your fingers dig into his skin. “Yes!” you gasp between moans. “Yes Joel, make me cum again!”
And that’s all the motivation Joel needs. He grabs your legs, moving them until your ankles are pressed against his shoulders, positioning you so that his strokes are deeper. He slides in and out of you faster and faster, each stroke filling you completely.
You love him. You love him and you love how he knows your body. He knows how to angle his hips so that the length of him pushes against that soft spot inside you that leaves you moaning and breathless.
“F-fuck,” you gasped between deep breaths. Your pussy squeezes around his cock, sucking him in, pulling him in closer to his own climax.
“Yes, baby,” Joel groans as the head of his dick pushes deep into you. His rhythm is faltering, he’s close to coming. “You take my cock so well. Your fucking pussy is squeezing me. Gonna make me come deep inside you.”
You fingers deep into his skin as your body tightens. He continues.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. Let it go. Come with me. I want to feel this pussy squeeze the cum out of me. Can you do that for me? Can you cream on my cock?”
You nod weakly, your mouth agape in pleasure as the tension in your core finally snaps. You come again, your core holding tight to Joel’s cock as he continues to drill into you. In a few pumps he’s right behind you, his moans echoing through the cabin as he stills inside you and comes. Rope after rope of his cum spills inside you. His load coats your walls, mixing with your own arousal until your spent hole is leaking.
Joel remains like that for a while. His dick softens inside you while you both catch your breath. The rain patters against the window behind you.
You reach up and press a hand against his face, feeling the roughness of his beard beneath your fingers. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you say, the fear from earlier renewing within you.
Joel pulls out of you and your empty pussy weeps with your combined release. He lowers your legs and bends down to press a gentle kiss against your lips.
“I can’t promise that,” he says, always pragmatic. “But I can promise to fight with everything I have to keep you safe so that I can come back to you.” He kisses you slowly, deep, and lovingly. “I love you and I will always come back to you.”
You look up into his brown eyes and pray he is telling you the truth. You can’t imagine a life without him. You extend a pinky finger into the air. “Promise?” You ask and wait for his response.
Joel smiles, the happiness glistens in his eyes as he hooks his pinky against yours. “Promise.”
