𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘪'𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 - g.listing x reader
Summary: You and Georg have been "you and georg" for a while now - definitely more than friends but still less than a couple. Your arrangement seemed to be working fine until Georg spots a mystery bouquet of flowers at your place and his behavior starts to shift in unexpected ways.
warnings : Friends with benefits i guess. Light Angst. Cunnilingus. Vaginal Fingering. Spanking. Cum Play. Protected sex. Feelings realization. Female bodied reader
a/n: this was supposed to be a very short and very small oneshot but turned into a whole ass fic 😭😭 i love feeding my fellow georg fangirlies
“If you’re not ready in 15 minutes, I’m going without you,” Georg declares.
“Cool but it’s my friends we’re having dinner with, so that might be controversial,” you point out, nudging his elbows off your vanity so you can open the drawer in front of where he’s sitting.
“Oh, they like me better than you, it won’t be a problem,” he teases, handing you the beauty blender you were looking for.
You snatch it from his hand. “Hey, you literally weren’t even invited, you just asked if I was busy and said ‘oh that could be fun’ when I told you what I had planned.”
“I feel like my presence was assumed when they asked you,” he shrugs.
You toss the sponge at him and he laughs as you shoo him out of the room so you can finish putting yourself together.
You and Georg have been together for a few months, although neither of you have ever tried to discuss what “together” actually means. Your relationship seemed to be an endless string of implications. When you met, it was implied you liked each other. When you made out at a party a few weeks later, it was implied it was as friends. When you started sleeping together, it was implied it was casual. In your mind, you were something more than “friends with benefits” but still something less than a full-on relationship.
He puts a record on and has just crossed into the kitchen to help himself to a bottled water from your fridge when he notices a vase of flowers on the counter that he definitely didn’t send you.
“Fancy flowers,” he comments. “Who sent them?” He asks, despite immediately checking the card and seeing the message alongside what seems to be a masculine name:
“Thanks for last weekend, let’s do it again sometime ;)”
You’re rooting around in your closet, trying to find the top you had planned on wearing while your mind is focused on your mental checklist of everything you still have left to do before you leave; it takes a good 15 seconds for it to register that Georg has even said anything and another 10 before you distractedly call out “a friend” in response.
Georg sits on your couch and while his hands are turning the pages of some random magazine he found on your coffee table, his eyes are fixed on the bouquet he can still see sitting on the kitchen counter. You’ve never discussed exclusivity, he would have no right to be jealous. But he can’t deny the panic that ran through his body when he saw that card and he can’t keep his mind from racing now.
He thinks he’d almost feel better if he’d found evidence you were fucking someone else; he hates the thought of someone else touching you but he’s also confident that they couldn’t possibly make you feel the way he does in bed. He’s not worried about the sex. But flowers? That implies romance, implies thoughtfulness and intimacy, which are things he wouldn’t blame you for seeking elsewhere. He knows he hasn’t been offering that to you in the ways he could, in the ways you probably deserve.
He tortures himself with these thoughts a bit longer and then props himself in the doorway of your bedroom to check on your progress.
“Oh you’re still here? You were so quiet out there I figured you made good on your threat and you were already at the restaurant ordering without me,” you tease, pulling on your boots.
Georg gives a half-hearted chuckle in response. “You look nice,” he compliments you quietly.
You flash him a pleasant but puzzled smile; something’s off with him, you don’t think he’s ever said you look “nice” as long as you’ve known him and he never passes up a chance to banter with you.
He makes small talk but you notice the way his fingers are fiddling with the label of his water bottle and how his eyes hesitate to look for yours. By the time you’re ready, he’s nonchalantly mentioned the flowers three times and asked you to a party next weekend, when he usually never plans that far in advance.
You pause gathering your things as you realize what’s happening. He’s fucking jealous, you amusedly think to yourself. Part of you wants to tease him about it but there’s an underlying sense of nervousness to it that’s almost sweet. How could something as innocuous as a vase of flowers shake this man’s seemingly endless confidence?
“I wasn’t trying to be vague before,” you tell him. “I helped someone move last weekend; only a couple people showed up to help, it was pretty intense. That’s what the flowers are for.”
“Let’s do it again sometime, winky face?” He raises his eyebrows, casually drinking from his water bottle to show how unbothered he is.
You make a face. “I should’ve figured you’d read the card,” you tease. “I joked that the move was so brutal I’d sooner buy him the apartment than help again when the lease is up.” To punctuate your story, you walk over, peck him on the lips and affectionately straighten his shirt collar. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but I can tell you you’re probably overthinking it.”
Georg tightens his jaw and runs his tongue over his lips as he listens to you. “Didn’t even know you liked flowers,” he shrugs as you smile softly at him.
When he doesn’t immediately follow you out of the bedroom, you know his wheels must still be turning. You get your keys out of the dish and text your friends that you’re leaving now. He finally appears and just as you’re about to tell him you really need to get going, he grabs you and gives you the most over the top, absurdly intense kiss of your life. One hand twisted in your hair, one hand pressing you against him, tongue claiming your mouth as his. He’s clearly trying to prove a point - what and to who, you’re not quite sure - but he certainly proves it.
He pulls away, fire in his eyes and casually says, “You lock up, I’ll get the car started?” as if nothing happened.
You stand there, stunned for a moment, quickly attempt to repair your smudged lipstick and lock the door to meet him outside.
The car ride is mostly silent, save for the radio. Georg plants his hand on your thigh the second you get in the car and it doesn’t budge the entire time. When you grab drinks with your friends at the bar, his hand never leaves your back. During dinner, his arm snakes around your waist the second you slide in the booth next to him. To the outsider this would seem possessive and you’re guessing it partly is but you think you’re pretty good at reading Georg at this point and to you, it feels more complex than that.
He’s still his engaging and charming self, chatting endlessly with everyone about everything but you can tell he’s in his head and you’re not entirely sure why. You recall how unnerved he seemed back at your apartment. You think about the number of times he’s leaned in to whisper a joke or comment in your ear tonight. You feel the gentle way his fingers brush over your hip while you wait for the check and you start connecting the dots.
It may have started with jealousy but this goes deeper than some basic macho territorial bullshit. You’re fascinated as you consider this development. He never seemed to feel angry or betrayed at the thought of someone else holding your attention; he just seemed troubled. Sad. And now it feels like he’s constantly reassuring himself of your presence, like as long as he keeps touching you, keeps engaging you, you’re undeniably there with him.
Your head swims as you consider the implications of this. You never doubted you both cared for each other but is it more serious than that to him? To you? You focus on him talking with your friends and you don’t realize you’re staring until you feel his eyes on you. He looks at you with amused expectancy; you just shake your head and smile fondly.
Your friends say their goodbyes and you start down the street back to the car park. Georg reaches for your hand and it kind of breaks your heart so when you stop to wait for the crosswalk, you place his arm around you and snuggle into him. He looks at you quizzically, as if he’s surprised by your affection. He truly has no idea how transparent he is sometimes, you think to yourself as you mumble something about being cold.
As you make your way down the block, he starts chattering away about the night’s events and with each comment you burrow further into his embrace, appreciating the cool night air and the sound of his voice.
By time you’ve reached the parking structure, you’ve got your arms wrapped around him, inside his jacket. He sways with you as you wait for the elevator, “Am I dropping you back home?”
Your answer comes out muffled as you’ve decided to take this opportunity to bury your face in his chest. “Your place.”
He kisses the top of your head and clarifies, “Thought you had work tomorrow?”
As the elevator doors open, you say, “But your place is closer now” with a glimmer in your eye and you pull him, first into the elevator and then into you. You give him a kiss reminiscent of his over the top, absurdly intense one from earlier but yours has no underlying point to prove. You’ve decided you need him, only him and you want to be sure he knows that.
The car ride is once again silent but this time there is a different tension in the air. His hand finds its way onto your thigh again, though this time it’s definitely a few inches higher. You can’t help but study him, as breathtaking as ever, lit only by the glow of evening traffic. You’re now almost as lost in your thoughts as you know he was earlier. He was so perturbed by those goddamn flowers, why? If you had found a gift from someone you didn’t know at his place, would you be feeling the same way? You’re pretty sure you would.
He catches your gaze at a stop light or two but he doesn’t say anything, just gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and turns back to the road. As soon as he shuts the engine off, you’re practically lunging across the car to get your lips back on his again. He indulges you for a minute and then breezily laughs, “let’s get you inside then” as he pries you off of him.
Once inside, it’s a dizzying clash of teeth, tongues, lips and limbs as you stumble up the stairs into the bedroom. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but suddenly he’s in his underwear and has you naked and spread in front of him.
He runs his fingers through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes, asking, “Wet already, huh? This all for me?”
That’s apparently the extent of his teasing mood as he dives right in and starts eating you out before you even think to answer. You gasp and immediately tangle your fingers in his hair as he ruthlessly attacks your clit, first swirling it with the tip of his tongue and then sucking it in between his lips. The way he alternates broad strokes of his wide tongue with deliberate rapid fire flicks has you whimpering faster than you thought possible.
“Been wanting to taste you all evening, beautiful, thought we’d never get away,” he murmurs as he teasingly presses light kisses into your thighs.
“Georg…” you start, still attempting to catch your breath. “What is going on with you tonight…”
He chuckles and replies, “Says the woman who practically jumped me in the parking lot after dinner?” He pushes himself up your body to kiss you deeply, both of you groaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.
He pulls away just enough to continue, “Says the woman who could barely wait for me to put the car in park before she pounced again?” He kisses you even harder, distracting you enough that you don’t notice his hands have begun to wander until you feel two fingers slowly dragging against your pussy.
You break the kiss with a moan and Georg seamlessly moves his mouth to your neck, giving several teasing bites and nips before he raises his head to look directly at you and say, “Says the woman who I suspect has been dripping for me since the kiss I gave her before we left for dinner?”
He pushes his fingers into you with ease and expertly starts working them. “Maybe even before? Has my girl been wanting me this badly all night?”
You feel your skin flush as you hear the words “my girl” come out of his mouth; this is new. That’s as far as your thought process gets because then he’s curling his fingers and all you can focus on is the way your walls are beginning to twitch and tighten around them, “Georg… please…” is the best response you can manage.
His hand that’s not buried inside you traces down your throat and over your breasts. “Please what, baby? Think you know you’re gonna have to do better than that,” he teases.
“… Want to cum… please…” you breathlessly pant out, rocking your hips against his fingers which have slowed to an agonizingly slow pace, keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.
“Oh don’t worry, pretty girl, you’ll cum alright,” he teases with his bottom lip fixed in a mock pout. “Gotta make it up to you, I obviously should’ve filled you the second I walked through your door tonight,” he speeds his fingers back up and adds his thumb into the mix, rubbing it against your clit, causing your legs to shake.
You grip his arm that’s working you over, digging your nails into his bicep as your entire body tenses and you pulse around his fingers. “That’s my girl, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” he coos as he pumps his fingers into you a few more times for good measure.
You can only breathe heavily in response; your mind and body are both reeling. There it is again: my girl. That kiss by your door, his hands on you all evening, now my girl. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or if his subconscious is giving him away, but he’s claiming you. You’re much more comfortable with that idea than you thought you’d be.
The second it seems like you’ve started to catch your breath,Georg withdraws his fingers from your body and sucks them clean, exaggeratedly groaning his approval. You reach out for him, hoping for a kiss but before you even realize what’s happening, he’s back between your legs lapping away at your center again. “Georg, what the fuck,” you cry out, legs involuntarily closing around him.
Unfazed, he easily spreads your legs back how he wants them and looks up at you, face obscenely wet and glistening from his task. “You tasted so good on my fingers, I wanted more straight from the source,” he shrugs and immediately returns to his mission.
You involuntarily let out a tiny moan at his remark before tugging on his hair to get his attention. “Too much” is all you manage to get out before he licks at your clit in just the right way to make you jolt and let out a guttural groan.
He pulls back and snickers against your thigh. “That’s what I thought, do I know my girl or do I know my girl? Know when you’re ready for another one before you even do, know how to leave you speechless with just a couple flicks of my tongue,” he sneers, rapidly fluttering over your clit in demonstration. “Know this pussy even better than you do, bet you’ve never had anyone else who can say that, have you?”
You grab onto his shoulder and moan as soon as you hear that magic phrase, my girl, again. Georg’s dirty talk has always been a huge turn on for you but tonight the language is as telling as it is arousing: you are his. You decide that you like it, you want that and you like that he wants that.
You sigh deeply, disappointed but not surprised, when he pulls away just as you feel your climax begin to build. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your tits, spreading sloppy kisses over one while he squeezes the other, rolling over the nipple with his thumb. You’re not quite sure why tenderness is your instinctual response but you go with it, softly running one hand through his hair and stroking his face with the other.
He looks up at you and his eyes are as breathtaking as always, glowing with both a familiar fire and also a softness you’ve only seen on occasion. You can’t help but smile as you tell him, “You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that a complaint or a compliment?” He asks with a smirk as he turns his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions.
“Not sure… both maybe…” you reply, in a dreamy haze of fondness, amusement and desire.
“I’ll take it,” he mutters against your skin. Satisfied with his work on your chest, you see him start to move back down between your legs.
“Geo… no, need more,” you object, attempting to pull him back up to you.
“That’s what I’m tryna to give you here, baby,” he chuckles, allowing you to pull him up to your lips.
You frantically kiss him and grabble between your bodies until your hand finds his erection still confined in his boxers and you give it a squeeze. “God, Georg, honestly I just want your cock more than anything right now,” you hate how pitiful you sound but you also hope it’s enough that he’ll give you what you want.
Instead he looks you directly in the eye, grins and taunts, “But when don’t you want my cock more than anything?”
He impishly pecks your nose and confidently states, “First you cum on my tongue. Then you can cum on my cock.” And with that, he’s suddenly peppering quick kisses all the way back down your body, musing almost to himself, “No one else can make you feel this way, can they? Know how to get you off like this? Gets you this needy?”
He dives back in with a renewed sense of purpose and has you cumming within moments; you swear at a certain point you can feel him grin against your sensitive core, clearly reveling in the nonsensical murmurs you don’t even realize you’re letting out until you hear them yourself.
“Good girl, sound so pretty when you cum for me, taste even better,” he praises, pressing a final kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he’s on his feet, finally stripping off his underwear and retrieving a condom from the bedside table.
You’re tired from his teasing but the anticipation of finally having him inside you fuels your decision to snatch the package from him and begin tugging at his cock as soon as he’s within arms reach. You roll the condom on him as he tucks your hair behind your ear and says, “Been so good tonight, baby, you decide how you want it.”
You purse your lips in amusement because while his offer appears generous, based on the tone of the evening and the charged mood you’re both in, there’s no way he doesn’t already know you’re about to choose his preferred position.
You reach up and kiss him lustfully one more time before you dramatically turn over and raise yourself up on all fours, looking over your shoulder at him with an expectant look. He raises an eyebrow at you and you playfully roll your eyes at him, “Are you going to pretend like you’re surprised or are you gonna fuck me?”
He grips your ass cheeks, kneading them in each hand, fondly clicking his tongue, “Cum twice already and still so impatient.”
You expect him to tease you; he always does and after the evening you’ve had, you assume you’re in for another tortuous display of dominance so it takes you by surprise when he’s suddenly sliding in to you. You hear his breathing become noticeably more pronounced as he buries himself and his fingers lightly trace down your spine, his actions pausing for just a beat longer than you’d like.
Without even giving it a second thought, you start eagerly moving against him. "Need me that badly you can’t even wait one second for me to catch my breath?” He taunts in a voice that’s both amused and aroused. He wraps his hand in your hair and yanks hard. “So desperate for me to wreck you, gotta fuck yourself on my cock?” He punctuates his question with a swift smack to your ass.
You attempt to scoff at his teasing but a simple, strained “fuck” leaves your lips instead as you steadily rock yourself back against him. He doesn’t seem to mind your initiative, responding to your movements with approving groans and keeping his large hands occupied by covering your ass, first with sharp slaps followed by firm yet tender rubbing to soothe your reddening skin.
You hear yourself chanting “More. Please. More.” in a rhythm matching the way you’re throwing your body back on him. He complies with your request, hand coming down on your backside multiple times in rapid succession and you cry out in satisfaction. You love the sting but you think you love the fact that you’ll be wearing his marks for days even more.
A particularly strong blow has your arms giving out, dropping your upper body down to the bed with a moan. He takes this as you handing over the reins and quickly moves his hands from your ass to your hips, grip digging into your skin as he takes over and starts pounding into you.
“Goddamn you wrap around me so good, it’s like you were made to take my cock weren’t you, beautiful?” His praise has both your mind and body humming; it’s been a long evening and although you’ve already had two orgasms, you find yourself overwhelmed by the undeniable need to cum with him inside you.
He pushes down on the small of your back to pop your ass and fuck you at a better angle but the way his fingers firmly but gently fall on your skin reminds you of how he touched you earlier in the evening. In the restaurant. On the street. In the car. Always wanting to feel you, always confirming your presence, always reassuring the both of you that your rightful place was with him.
An unexpected wave of affection washes over you and suddenly you’re needing him in a much different way. You manage to feebly say, “Geo? Babe?” as you muster the strength to raise yourself back on one arm while you fling the other behind you, blindly searching for him.
You almost never call him pet names so it immediately jumps out at him; he notices the shifted tone in your voice and halts his actions. You turn your head to meet his gaze as he pants, “You alright? What’s happening?”
Your hand finally finds his resting on your hip and you give it a squeeze, “Changed my mind. Need more of you on me.”
The confusion and concern that were clouding his features softens into something familiar yet somehow undefinable as he gingerly pulls out and leans forward to give you the softest kiss you’ve received all evening. “Well, let’s do that then.”
You spin around to face him and sit back on your knees, pulling him into another soft, slow kiss, brushing his hair off his forehead. He basks in your tender attention for a moment before he’s guiding you back down onto the bed, situating himself to fully lay on top of you, between your legs, careful not to break your kiss until you’re ready.
He slips back inside you and before he even gets the chance to ask, a breathy “Yessss” is all the confirmation he needs to know that this is what you were craving. You wrap your legs around him and run your hands across his broad back, “Just wanted to feel more,” you explain.
Your eyes are closed, relishing the feel of his weight on you and the stretch of him inside you, so you don’t notice the way he silently studies you for a moment before he lifts himself up and starts thrusting into you again.
For all the filth that’s come out of your mouths this evening, this round finds you both unusually quiet, letting your joined symphony of moans, groans, “yeahs and “fucks say everything that needs to be expressed.
You feel him reach for your hand and move it to rest above you on the pillow, interlacing his fingers with yours; you respond with a squeeze and then one up him by turning your head to nip at his skin, simply because you can. He’s left his signature up and down your body tonight, it’s only fair you get to leave a small token of your appreciation on his.
He hisses at the feel of your teeth lightly grazing his skin. “Come on, baby, play nice.”
“Since when do we do that?” You breathlessly reply and then bask in the glow of the grin you receive in response.
Still smiling, Georg shakes his head. “If you’re able to make smartass remarks like that, clearly I’m not doing my job here.”
He takes one of your legs from around his waist and lifts your thigh back towards your chest; your mouth opens to moan but nothing happens as he pulls almost entirely out and then fucks into you so much slower and deeper than before. He chuckles, “That’s more like it.”
You consider rolling your eyes at his teasing or panting out another sassy quip at him but the way he’s moving in you feels so otherworldly you honestly don’t care about anything else. You grab on to his forearm and dig your nails in.
“Feeling good, beautiful?” He reaches between you and mercilessly rubs your clit. “Who’s making you feel this good?”
The sound emanating from your throat might be his name but mainly sounds like a series of whimpers.
He rubs harder and thrusts deeper. “Didn’t hear you, speak up. Whose cock makes you feel like this?” You continue crying out nonsensically as you feel yourself on the verge of your third orgasm.
You need him close so you pull him down to you for a kiss. He sloppily licks into your mouth, panting against your lips. He’s almost as gone as you are. You bite at his bottom lip and say, with a bit more desperation than you anticipated, “Gonna cum for you, Geo.” He nods understandingly and pecks your lips once more.
His lips move to your neck as his thrusts speed up again; he’s determined now and you’re moaning in earnest. You feel that familiar burning in your core and your eyes instinctively flutter shut, savoring the fall into bliss.
“Uh-uh, eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me. Need to be sure you know whose cock it is you’re cumming on,” Georg commands.
You force yourself to focus on him as you start to unravel, your entire body on fire, tensing deliciously; your mind is screaming his name but only indecipherable whines fall from your lips. Georg is relentless as he fucks you through it, his thrusts never slow; no matter how impossibly tight your pussy squeezes around his cock, he never stops driving into you even rougher and deeper than before.
His eyes remain locked on yours, making the entire experience feel unbelievably more intimate. You swear you can feel every pent up emotion from the evening - the jealousy, the worry, the possessiveness, the passion, the… love? - in his gaze and you’ve never had a more intense orgasm, physically or emotionally.
As you come down from your high, you hear him praising you, “Yes, baby… love making you cum… you always give so much… always such a good girl for me.” His words alone would’ve earned a reaction from you but he sounds as wrecked as you feel, causing you to emit a deep and breathy moan at this realization. He’s panting so heavily you know his release won’t be far behind.
You feel like you’re mad with desire at this point; you’re beyond satisfied and you know you couldn’t possibly cum again but you still feel like you’re wanting something, you still need more of him. Feeling emboldened by watching Georg lose control and the euphoria still pulsing through your body, you find yourself digging your nails into his arms and muttering, “Want your cum, Georg.”
He lets out a grunt as his hips slam into yours. “Oh, you’re definitely about to get it,” he smirks.
You sigh partly out of exasperation and partly out of arousal for what you’re about to request. “No, Georg, I want it,” you pant. “Want you to cum on me, make me yours.”
His hips slow as he processes your words. “Fuck” is all he can manage to growl under his breath in response. He pulls out and you whimper at both the absence of him and the anticipation of what’s going to happen.
Georg peels off the condom and you can’t take your eyes off him as he wraps his long fingers around his cock and begins to stroke himself. It only takes a few tugs before he’s gasping and murmuring your name and you have to moan along with him when you feel his warm cum spurting onto your stomach and chest. He maintains a firm grip as the rhythm of his hand varies, making sure he squeezes out every last drop for you.
He hangs his head in exhaustion for a beat and then takes in the sight of you: fucked out, chest heaving, painted in his release. You catch him staring and offer him a tired yet mischievous smile; he seems to pick up on your wavelength and smirks as he runs a finger through the substance on your breasts and brings it up to your lips for you to suck off.
“Jesus, baby,” he groans, shaking his head almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. “Don’t move.” He affectionately rubs your thigh a few times before he moves off the bed and ducks into the bathroom, returning seconds later with a wet washcloth. He climbs back next to you on the bed and presses a passionate kiss to your lips before he starts gently cleaning you up; it’s quiet for a few moments and the intimacy is not lost on either of you. You reach up and brush his hair from his eyes.
“Hey,” you start, fondly. He smiles much softer than he has all night. “Hey yourself,” he giggles. You pause and feel a bit of leftover boldness coursing through you, so you comment, “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind. ” Georg bites his lip and exhales deeply, clearly considering how to answer. He looks down, avoiding your eyes, and fusses over a mark on your hip that’s sure to form into a gnarly bruise by morning.
“Sorry if I got a little crazy tonight, I know I‘m usually better at checking in with you,” he muses. You sit up and squeeze his shoulder. You feel the urge to reassure him but you can tell he’s on the verge of opening up and you don’t want to derail him.
You’re trying to find the courage to prompt him further when he surprises you by admitting, “It just really fuckin’ got to me when I thought… “ he trails off, looking away again. “I got weirded out about those flowers and I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.” He tosses the washcloth onto the nightstand in exasperation. You give him a faint smile. “Geo, I told you —”“I know and I believe you but I just started thinking… and then I couldn’t stop,” he confesses quietly.
He stands up and pulls on a pair of shorts before busying himself by starting to tidy the bed. You excuse yourself to the bathroom. You figure he could use some time to process whatever it is he’s still trying to work out so you wash your face, brush your teeth and slip on a t-shirt of his you find discarded on the counter. You venture back into the bedroom and find him tossing the pillows back onto the bed after having changed the sheets. He still looks lost inside his thoughts and you yearn to ease his mind. You walk over and hug him from behind, burying your face into his back; he gives your arms an affectionate squeeze.
“I know we don’t really talk about this kind of thing but I feel like you should know I haven’t seen anybody else since we started talking,” you offer, your confession muffled with your face still pressed against his skin. “It hasn’t even been a conscious thing, I just… haven’t been interested, I guess.” Georg pulls you to his side and kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me that,” he murmurs, rubbing your back.
You quickly come around and kneel on the bed in front of him so that you’re at his eye level and you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I liked everything that happened tonight; you know I would have told you otherwise,” you assert. He nods in acknowledgement so you continue, “I like hearing you tell me I’m your girl, I like when you make me feel like I’m yours… ”
You feel tempted to look away, to fidget with the necklace he’s wearing but you resist.
You look straight into his eyes, full of warmth and attentiveness, and state, “You know, I could be yours, if that’s something you decide you want.”
Georg only lets your words hang in the air for a split second before he wraps his arms around you tightly and kisses you slowly; it’s intense and passionate but not in the same over the top, cocky way that he kissed you back at your apartment.
This kiss is also trying to prove something but it’s a message meant only for you and he’s taking his time to make his point clear.
When your mouths finally separate, you take a deep breath and steady yourself on his arms. You open your eyes at him and grin.
“Was that your way of asking?”
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