"Jesus, this wallpaper looks like something out of The Shining." Lip opined as he entered their motel room. "All work and no play—" shrugged Fiona, giving Lip a small smile as she shut the door behind her. "Makes Jack a dull boy," her brother finished with a grin, sighing and walking to lock the room door. "You wanna rock, paper, scissors for the bed?" Fiona asked from behind him. "Are you shitting me?" Lip questioned, turning to her with raised eyebrows. "You sat in a freezing gas station half the evening, you're taking the fucking bed." "This floor's cold as a rock, Lip," Fiona protested, running her hand along the thin carpet beneath their feet. "And—" "Harder than cocks?" Lip guessed, grabbing a pillow off the queen bed and dropping it on the floor. "I can manage." He offered her a smile, but then saw that her eyes once again brimmed with tears. "Hey," he said gently, running a hand along her cheek. "Fiona—" He pulled her into a hug and rested his chin on top of her head, feeling the bare part of his lower neck grow wet with her tears. "You're safe now," Lip insisted, taking Fiona's face in his hands and tipping it upwards to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks. "You're safe here with me," He pressed his lips to her forehead firmly for a moment, then started to pull away, his hands still cupping Fiona's face. Their lips met in an instant, a forbidden thing that somehow felt so right, and before Lip could fully wrap his mind around what was happening, his hands were tracing the hem of Fiona's t shirt and her fingers were working the fly of his blue jeans. "Oh Christ—" Lip moaned, as Fiona's fingers traced the throbbing thing that swelled hard against his pants. Lip's pants and underwear dropped to the floor quickly and he stumbled backwards onto the queen bed, holding Fiona against him with one hand and hastily pulling aside the bedsheets with the other. Fiona fell back on bed, throwing aside her her t shirt as Lip straddled her and reached behind her to remove her bra. "Jesus fuck," Lip muttered in frustration. "Don't bra makers take into consideration how long a guy can keep one up—" "Shit," Fiona groaned. "I forgot it unhooks in the front." "Of course it fucking does!" Lip panted sarcastically, and Fiona laughed. Fiona gasped the minute Lip's hands touched her breasts. No man had ever touched her in the way that he did. With such tenderness, such care, such unabashed love. She hardly needed to invite him inside of her, for Lip gripped the headboard and thrust into her gently. "Jesus," Fiona panted from below him. "You can do it harder, Lip—" He only eyed her for a split second before complying with her wishes and using all the strength in his body to thrust up into her. Fiona gripped his bare back in earnest, her moans of pleasure carried in hot breaths against his ear, and Lip could feel nothing but longing—longing to give her the best he possibly could—everything in that special equation she deserved from a man but had never truly received. Tender care. Worshipful respect. Upmost devotion. An impossible amount of love. And Lip knew he had succeeded in his quest and more when Fiona, embroiled in the pleasure of her orgasm, coaxed Lip blissfully into his own.
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