Lavender @mj-crane - Tumblr Blog

Kyle Crane x f!Reader Smut: (A little) Superficial

Summary: Decades without a woman will drive a man crazy. Especially a man like Crane. When he meets you and finds out you're into him too but too scared to do anything about it, he does his best to get you comfortable enough to join him in bed. Warningss/Mentions: unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, age gap, LOTS of dirty talk Notes: i have a huge headcanon that Kyle is REALLY good at dirty talk in bed. Like, I fully believe he would talk you through ALL OF IT

Kyle Crane used to know exactly how to talk to beautiful girls.

Most of the time, he didn't even need to talk. All it took was a few lingering looks, a little grin or two, maybe even a cocky one-liner, and said beautiful girl would be coming home with him. He'd give her the best night of her life, their words, not his, and they'd never speak again.

That was a long, long time ago. Before Harran. Before the countryside and the Baron and everything in-between. He hadn't even really thought about pretty girls, or sex, or getting his dick wet, all that much since then. Since the day he dropped into Harran he had bigger problems to spend his time thinking about.

Now the only thing he could think about for longer than ten seconds anymore was you.

You were beautiful. Like, really beautiful. You had the kind of face that made most men stop and stare when you walked into a room. The kind of face that made even Kyle Crane pause when he saw you for the first time. He was mid sentence, and then he wasn't.

You looked like you'd stepped out of an advertisement for a luxury sports car, or one of those commercials for that perfume that women like Natalie Portman used to star in. He remembered the commercial well.

You had this utterly feminine beauty that made his brain short circuit and all the blood in his head travel south. He hadn't had that sort of visceral reaction in longer than he could remember.

He was talking to Lydia when he saw you. You walked into that cave and he swore he felt the change in the air before he even turned to look. You were coming back from gathering intel for Lydia, smiling at her as you approached the two of them. You laughed at something she said, your face lighting up, and even Lydia smiled. Not that Kyle noticed. He was too busy standing across the table with his nostrils flared as he dragged your scent in his lugs like they were fumes getting him high.

When you glanced at him, Kyle's heart beat a little faster. Like a damn teenager. He spent the next short three minutes trying to act normal. He kept his eyes on the map on the table when you looked at him, and when you looked away, his eyes snapped back up to you like magnets he couldn't keep apart.

You handed Lydia something Kyle didn't bother to look at. You said something he didn't really hear. He only processed the fact that you kept glancing at him while you spoke with the older woman.

Even though you made him stupid, you didn't make him brainless. He understood from your body language that you clearly thought he was attractive. You couldn't hold eye contact for more than a second, you'd smile and look down, you angled your body towards him even when you spoke to Lydia. You were interested.

You were a little scared, too. He could smell the fear spiking on you when he took a small step around the table towards you when Lydia gave a quick introduction.

He didn't pay too much attention to it in that moment. All he cared about was the fact that you were interested.

Most women were. He was used to that. It just wasn't really something he cared enough to give thought to anymore. Women were on the back burner, and that burner wasn't even on. Not when his sole reason for breathing was blind, bloodthirsty vengeance.

For those three minutes he breathed solely for you- the Baron, the Beast, the Chimera Lydia had him hunting were all completely devoid from his thoughts.

He later learned just how scared of him you were.

When he wasn't so wrapped up in how to get you to look at him for just a little longer, he noticed it. Every time he moved, your eyes would dart towards his hands like you expected him to reach out and snap your neck. Every time he spoke you would tense up a little, like you expected him to start shouting at you.

That hurt him a little more than he'd ever admit.

Kyle Crane worked hard to get where he was with you now. Countless runs together, which were hard to plan out with just the two of you. Someone else always wanted to go, and it wasn't like Kyle could exactly say out loud that he wanted you alone. Especially considering how wary you were of him. So someone else would always come. Some young runner, either starstruck by the ‘Legend of Castor Woods’, or entranced by the most beautiful woman in the damn country.

After the first few runs, you'd noticeably loosened up. You stopped watching him like you expected him to snap. On days where it was just the two of you, you stopped looking over your shoulder every few minutes to make sure he wasn't… doing whatever the hell you thought he was up to behind your back.

You'd even started making conversation with him. Voluntarily.

It was late when the two of you got back to the exile's cave. Just an hour before dark. Kyle had herded you to the back chamber he'd been recently sleeping in more often than his room in Town Hall. To ‘help Lydia track down the beast in the woods’. A flimsy excuse to spend more time around you, since Lydia had a room for you in the back of the cave near the medbay.

“Why does it hurt so bad?” The sound of your voice directed at him was rare.

Kyle glanced up from the gauze he was unwrapping to see you wincing, trying to reach the shallow cut on your back. The positioning was awful, right below your shoulder blades where you couldn't reach it yourself. The positioning was another perfect excuse for Kyle to spend more time around you. Something he jumped at the chance to take.

You were sitting in the chair in the corner of his room, next to one of the small tables. As far away from him as you could get.

“Sometimes those little ones hurt the most.” He muttered. He opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol he kept on his desk, nearly empty from how often he'd had to use it. Not on himself- his wounds healed overnight thanks to what the Baron turned him into- but from crafting. “Fingernails are more jagged than blades. Gives more localized trauma.”

You nodded, but it didn't look like you were really listening. You had this fuzzy expression, your brows pinched together in the middle, your eyes locked on some nonspecific point behind him. You only looked up when he moved away from the table and approached you.

The way you instinctively widened your eyes at him closing the distance made him pause. He waited until you relaxed again before reaching for you.

When he lifted your tank top, he couldn't help but stop and stare.

Your skin was free from scars. There wasn't a single one on your back. You were soft, he noticed, as he dabbed the damp gauze over the shallow cut. His fingertips brushed across your skin in a move that wasn't entirely accidental and he felt exactly how soft your skin is. He watched the goosebumps rise in a line where his finger had been and tried not to feel disgusted with himself.

Seeing the lack of scars on the surface of your back interrupted by a scratch from a Viral made something ugly twist deep in his gut. He wanted to do more than snap its neck the way he did an hour prior.

He wanted to skin its rotting flesh from its bones and throw it under UVs to burn away into nothing. He wanted to rip its jaw straight out from its skull and tear its throat out for marking you like that.

His top lip twitched at the thought and he felt even more disgusted with himself.

He was plagued with those same foul thoughts the next time the two of you went on a run together.

The run itself went fine. You got some supplies for his mission to lure the beast out of the woods. A few nonperishables for the exiles. The day went by without a hitch.

It was the night that gave you trouble.

His truck had broken down in the forest and he couldn't fix it without another battery. The sun was setting. A tall hunters tower was the closest safe house, the same tower he'd secured a week before meeting you. You barely made it up the ladder before the sun fully dipped down below the horizon.

You were in a good mood that night. You'd found a chocolate bar in the gas station and had taken your first bite when the UV lights suddenly cut off. The tower fell silent, the electrical hum stopping short, making both of you look up from what you were doing.

“It's the wires.” He muttered before you had a chance to ask. “Should have replaced them when I had the chance.”

You were so scared you were trembling. You handed him a bundle of wires from your bag and he got to work while you held the flashlight for him.

He was halfway through splicing the third wire when the screech of a Viral broke through the night time silence. It had seen his light and the lack of UV around it.

“Shit.” He grumbled under his breath. He had no problem taking it out with a perfectly timed throwing knife. It was the next three that started climbing.

He handed you the tools like he was handing you a hot potato and lunged. He worked vigorously, standing right on top of the ladder, swinging his machete into meat and kicking skulls before they could reach the top. Every few seconds he'd glance over his shoulder to make sure none had scaled up the back of the tower, and he'd only look back in front of him when he was sure you were safe.

He hadn't had someone worth protecting like this in a long time.

You were working just as hard as him, replacing wires with trembling fingers while your teeth clattered around the flashlight you'd stuck in your mouth. Every few seconds you'd glance at Kyle to your left to make sure he wasn't being swarmed.

“One more!” You shouted around the light, your words coming out rushed and slurred.

Despite the adrenaline, despite the anger, Kyle forced his voice into a lower tone when he replied. “Don't rush. I've got this. Like swatting down gnats.” He said as he yanked his machete free from a Viral’s skull and kicked the body off the ledge.

The Volatile came next. It tore through the Virals, shoving them aside like they were nothing, and climbed up the ladder so fast he barely had time to counter it.

The sound of you screaming is what sent him into that state he hated. He let out a roar that sounded more Volatile than man, clicking on his UV light to stun it while he kicked it backwards. It stumbled off the ledge but held on. His UV crackled and buzzed as it turned off.

He ran at the beast, planting two hands on its chest, and drove it backwards, pushing himself over the ledge with his boots braced on the wooden paneling.

The two tumbled to the ground. Kyle used the momentum to drive his machete through its chest and twisted, slicing the cavity open. He threw the melee weapon to the ground and stood up, chest heaving, the blue in his right eye replaced with glowing bright red.

He tore through several more Biters and Virals. You threw down a UV flair at some point, which bought him about thirty seconds before the next Volatile came. He handled that one with a bit more difficulty- his adrenaline was fading, the GSB-fueled state wearing thin. He tackled it to the ground, placed both hands in its gaping maw, and ripped the bottom jaw clean off.

He stood up and braced himself for the next wave with a heaving chest. There were dozens more. One grabbed his shoulder, he ripped the arm clean off. Another went for his neck, he tore its head free from its shoulders. Three more came at him-

The UV lights overhead flickered back to life with a strong hum. He looked up, squinting against the bright light, and saw you peering over the edge with wide eyes. The rest of the infected screamed, some stumbling away, most falling to their knees to shield their faces from the light out of human instinct still deeply engrained into their rotting brains.

Kyle climbed the ladder and rolled it up.

You were still shaking when he approached you. He realized he must have been just as terrifying as the Volatile. Bloody, panting like a feral dog, one red eye still glowing as he tried to come back to himself.

“Are you okay?” You managed, the backs of your knees hitting the makeshift bed behind you. You stumbled back and he caught you with a wet hand around your bicep, steadying you before you fell.

Your entire arm tensed. He let you go.

“I'm fine.” His voice didn't entirely sound like his own yet. It was still layered with something darker. “You did good. Real damn good. You alright?”

You nodded slowly, like you weren't sure if you were or not. You glanced down at the red handprint on your white button up.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath. “Sorry. I'll- I'll get you a new one.”

A ridiculous concern. Most people were still wearing clothes with enough bloodstains to make the cloth a completely different color. Stains didn't matter in this world.

This stain did. To him. You deserved clothes without bloody handprints on them. You were too pretty for that.

You smiled like you weren't. “It's okay. My dad set up our zone near the mall. I've got plenty of these.”

Of course you did. Kyle knew your father well. The big shot Holt, leader of the largest settlement in Castor Woods. Decorated war hero. It only made sense someone like you would have a father like that.

Only when you were patching him up that night did Kyle notice the progress he'd made with you.

On your first run together, the one Logan and Travis came along for, you stuck well behind the two males the entire time. He could feel you staring at the back of his head like a stray cat curious about the human trying to feed it. You didn't speak to him the entire day. When he spoke to you, either giving instructions or commands, you'd just nod your head. You talked to the other men just fine. You even flirted your way into one of them giving you his chocolate granola bar, a rare treat in this day in age.

You'd jump when he got too close. Your eyes would widen if he walked directly towards you. You flinched when he tried to hand you something.

Now you were sitting on the bed behind him, so close he could feel your breath on the back of his neck while you cleaned the wounds on his shoulder.

Two bite marks and a gash from a Volatile claw. Injuries that would put a normal man out for a week at least. Injuries that would be nothing more than scars for Kyle tomorrow. Still, you'd offered to clean him up. He would be a fool to turn down that offer. He didn't need to tell you it wasn't necessary if it meant you'd put your hands on him. He was still a man, afterall. And you were… you.

“This looks really bad.” Your voice was quiet and shaky as you cleaned around the deep gash from the Volatile. “You sure you don't want stitches?”

He waved you off with a comforting tone like he was the one tending to you. “Easy… I've had worse. Much worse.”

You worked in silence for another minute before he spoke again.

“You're good at this.” He murmured as you dabbed an alcohol-soaked gauze pad over his bicep. “Gentle.”

He could feel the air around you lighten at the praise. “Thanks. I used to patch my dad's runners up a lot. They've got a real medic now.”

Kyle snorted. “Real medics got nothing on you, kid.”

He froze.

Kid. He called you fucking kid. He closed his eyes and groaned, resisting the urge to slap his hand onto his face. He was thinking of how to backtrack or change the subject when he smelt it.

This faint, sweet, heady scent coming off of you in waves, the smell instantly sending the blood from his head down south. He thought it might have just been the proximity working you up until he gave it more than a second of thought.

You'd watched him fight like an animal to protect you. Tearing into Infected with his machete like he was cutting butter. Driving a Volatile off the tower twenty feet below where he killed it with his bare hands. Crawling back up that ladder to you, breathing heavy, nostrils flared, right eye red and glowing. All of it to protect you. If he'd been alone he would've just booked it to the closest safe zone. But you were there, and you were nowhere near as fast as him.

He'd gone full beast for you. The best part? You weren't looking at him like he was a monster anymore, like that first week. Your touches on his bare shoulders lingered, unusually gentle, and your fingers were trembling.

Not from fear. Your fear smelt like white lightning. This smelt like molten sweetness. You desired him. The same way plenty of other women had desired him before.

The realization made his jeans feel too small all of a sudden.

He said nothing about it. But he did reach for you. One hand, nice and slow so you could clearly see it, reached behind him. He didn't look. He knew exactly where each part of you was without looking. You were sitting directly behind him on the mattress, your legs folded under you.

His hand settled on your knee.

You froze. Of course you did. Kyle didn't mind. He knew you weren't freezing because you were scared. He kept his hand motionless, big palm cupping your knee while he waited for you to get back to cleaning the bite mark.

When you finally started moving again, he started moving his thumb. He rubbed circles on your knee, stroking over your worn blue jeans. You were still so tense. He wanted to work that tension out of every part of you with his fingers.

He knew he could, if you'd just let him.

The Kyle Crane he was in Harran would have turned around and kissed you now. And you would have let him. This Kyle Crane didn't. He just kept his hand on you, thumb brushing gentle circles while you cleaned the blood and dirt from the bite. After a little while, his hand moved up. Just an inch, until his palm cupped the outside of your thigh.

Then, when you relaxed under his touch, he slid his hand a little higher. He had to turn his body slightly, which turned out fine because you needed to clean a bite on his bicep anyway. He glanced at you and saw how pink your cheeks were. Your eyes flicked to his and held his gaze for a fraction of a second before they darted back down to his bicep.

He saw the way you were looking at more of his arm than just the injuries. Your gaze followed the curve of his taut muscles, the sweat dripping down the lines in his arm, the dark hair covering his forearm. Your eyes lingered there. He brought it up.

“GSB’s got me turning into a fuckin’ werewolf.” He joked, trying for humor.

You let out a little breathy laugh like you were relieved he was making conversation. “Yeah.”

He smirked, just barely. He brushed the inside of your thigh with his thumb, feeling the muscle tense up under his palm for a moment before you relaxed again.

“When I was in the special forces I used to shave my arms.” He admitted. The memory made his smirk widen.

Your brows shot up. “Really? Why?”

He gave a shrug with the shoulder you weren't tending to. “Had a guy tell me girls don't like fur.”

You laughed, the sound real and natural. It made his heart melt in a way he wasn't used to. “That guy was wrong.”

He raised a brow. “Yeah? You into the whole werewolf thing?”

You laughed again. Your cheeks were pinker. “Uhm… kind of.”

He snorted all cool and smooth like he wasn't also grinning like an idiot. He squeezed your thigh absentmindedly, his grin faltering when he heard the way your breath hitched. He fought to think of something to say.

“Kind of, is that right?” He tilted his head slightly, turning his body towards you more until the only injury you could see anymore was the one on his bicep. “Guess that makes one of us. GSB really said ‘go big or go home’ with the hair. Should see my legs.” He watched the way your throat worked at the mental image he gave.

He barely heard the way you inhaled a little more shallow, like the mere idea was getting you all worked up. Judging by the way you smelled, you were.

The new angle he sat in provided you a better view of his chest. You could see the hair on his pecs, curled with sweat, and as your eyes trailed lower, your pupils blew wider.

Kyle watched the way your gaze followed the dark line of hair down the center of his abdomen and stopped where it disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. Your hands weren't even moving on his bicep anymore.

The Hero of Harran would have offered to show you where that trail ended. That Kyle would have stood up, moved to stand in front of you and unbuckle his belt all slow and smooth so he could watch the way your mouth watered.

This Kyle didn't. He didn't push any more after that. He squeezed your thigh when you were done and pulled his shirt back on like a fucking idiot.

This Kyle Crane slept on the floor like a guard dog that night, and he didn't complain about it. Not even when he woke up the next day with his joints aching.

Kyle Crane never used to be the overly possessive type. Sure, in high school maybe. He got into a few fights over girls before- threw a few punches, shoved a few guys. But that was every testosterone-fueled seventeen year old with their first real girlfriend. He grew out of it fast when he realized he could have just about any woman he wanted. No need to be territorial when he could have a better one in a week. Not that he was a douchebag- he never played with women's emotions. He always told them how it was. They never seemed to mind, and neither did he.

Kyle liked those magical nights where he didn't give a shit if they were still hung up on an ex or were talking to other guys.

That was a long, long time ago.

Now the only thing he could think about was the fact that you smelled like Aiden Caldwell and the fact it made him so mad his face burned.

He'd carried the unconscious man back into the cave the night before after beating the everloving fuck out of him. Then you and Lydia cleaned the copious amounts of blood and dirt off of him while he was still knocked out. You even rinsed his hair out, gently running your fingers through his tangled locks while you poured over a stream of warm water.

When you finished and went to get dinner, you sat down across the fire from Kyle and he immediately smelled Caldwell all over you.

He didn't know why he gave a shit. You hadn't even spoken to the kid. Aiden had been unconscious the entire time you'd been around him. He hadn't even spoken to you, he literally didn't even know you existed. But his scent was still all over you. Your fingers, your hands, your wrists up to your elbows where the rag had gotten your arms damp. Your neck, where you'd mindlessly stroked the skin there as you patted his forehead dry. Your hair, where you'd brushed it behind your ear when you were finished.

You glanced up at him from across the fire and your gaze quickly dropped back to your plate.

You were still scared of him. You were scared of him and you smelled like another man. You couldn't look him in the eyes and you had Aiden Caldwell's scent all over you.

Kyle stabbed his fork into some unidentifiable boiled vegetable and chewed so hard he felt his jaw tick.

He couldn't blame you. You'd seen the way he'd taken on Aiden with nothing more than a bat- beating the feral, Volatile beast unconscious while simultaneously trying not to kill him. You had seen the way he ripped through infected like they were made out of clay- ripping the heads off of Virals, punching his fist straight through the chests of Biters.

He was something to be scared of. You were smart to be wary. If you were any smarter you'd get up from the campfire and walk away and never look back. He was dangerous. Not even he knew how dangerous he could be, yet.

Kyle Crane was something to be scared of.

He tried to pretend that wasn't true later that night. He was smoking a cigarette outside- a bad habit he'd picked up recently. The GSB and whatever the hell else the Baron put in him made things like cigarettes and alcohol as harmless as oxygen and water. It would take a lot more than some tobacco smoke to do any damage to his lungs anymore.

He liked the little head buzz it gave him. It felt like his first cigarette all over again.

You had come outside for some reason. Maybe to grab something from your truck. Kyle didn't know. All he knew was he could smell your flowery lotion and shampoo invading his nose, and a minute later you were walking out of the cave entrance beside him.

You froze when you saw him standing there and took an unconscious step back before stopping yourself.

He pretended he didn't see the way you'd backed away from him and offered a small nod before looking back to the trail ahead. In the weeks of knowing you, Kyle had perfected non-intimidating body language. Not making eye contact was something he noticed made your heart rate slow down. Not speaking unless you spoke to him first was another thing he noticed eased your tension.

“Hi.” You said, turning to face him. Your eyes landed on the cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. “I didn't know you smoke.”

He pulled it out and exhaled a lungful of smoke. He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn't.” He watched you for a moment before extending it out towards you.

He didn't want you to take it. The thought of that foul smelling smoke damaging your perfectly healthy lungs and covering your own scent made him upset. He didn't stop you when you reached out and took it from his fingers with your own much thinner fingers. They made his digits look ridiculous in comparison when they brushed against them.

“Thanks.” You offered a smile and took a drag. You immediately frowned and blew the smoke out as fast as possible, making a face that made him almost grin in amusement. Almost. The most you got out of him was a slight twitch of his lips.

His heart ached. You were so beautiful it hurt.

You handed it back to him. “That’s gross.”

He snorted and ashed the cigarette, watching the bits of glowing orange drift down to the ground. You'd left a faint, almost transparent, rose-colored ring around the filter from your tinted lip balm. The lip balm he'd watched you apply several times throughout the day. He stared down at it for a few seconds before he put the cherry out on the stone behind him. He didn't take another hit.

“You're going after the Baron tomorrow?” You asked, drawing his eyes away from the butt back towards you.

He watched you for a second before he nodded.

“Can I ask you something?” You shifted your weight on your feet. You were hugging yourself. The urge to shed his jacket for you was so strong he almost reached down to unzip it.

“You can.” He said instead. “But you might not get an answer.”

An attempt at humor that didn't succeed.

“I heard one of the people at Town Hall call you the Hero of Harran.” The words coming from your mouth felt like a punch in his gut. “Did you really do all that?”

He rolled the cigarette butt between his fingers at his side. “Depends on what, ‘all that' is.”

“Saving and helping all those people. Standing against the GRE. Killing that man… R…. Rais.” You pronounce the name like ‘Rice' and it gives him a fond feeling in his chest. “The Mother.”

He nodded.

Something in your expression changed. Like you just realized what exactly it was you had standing in front of you. Awe, admiration, both stronger than fear. Those stories were all stronger than the stories of him dismembering the Baron’s men and destroying his Chimeras with his bare hands. Stronger than the fact that he was a sentient Volatile who could turn into a monster if pushed. Stronger than the monster standing in front of you.

And he had to go and fucking ruin it. “Doesn't matter anymore. None of it does.” He said.

Your awe faded to sad confusion. “Why?”

He should have just shut up. “Was all for nothing. Harran fell. All those people died anyway.”

The look on your face made him grimace. Five seconds ago you were looking at him like he was a hero. Now you were looking at him with this mix of grief and sympathy. You crossed your arms again and looked down.

He sighed heavily. “Sorry.” He muttered, looking away. “Didn't mean to get all nihilistic on you.”

“It's okay.” You were obviously trying to keep your voice light despite his pessimism. You paused, watching him for the moment his eyes weren't on you. He felt your gaze but didn't meet it, knowing you'd look away the second his eyes shifted towards you.

“I don't think it was for nothing.” You continued. “I know they ended up dying, but you gave them more time. I'm sure most people would kill for longer. Even if it was just… a little longer.”

Your voice had softened even further, it practically sounded like you were trying to soothe an upset child. Somehow, you'd managed to make that sound pleasant, not condescending.

Or maybe Kyle just had it bad for you. “Guess so. Wouldn't really say giving people a few more months makes me the ‘Hero of Harran’, though.” He said the name like it was a joke.

“You did a lot more than that.” You gave him a small, almost endearing smile. “You did a lot here, too. You're like, Superman of Towns in Need.”

Kyle didn't expect that. He chuckled. “Superman? S’that right?”

For the first time, Kyle heard you laugh. It wasn't a full laugh, more of a weak giggle, but it was still something he hadn't heard up until that point. “Yeah! You're Superman.”

He couldn't not look at you now. You were still looking at him with that same endearing smile, but it was softer. He didn't realize he was returning it until he noticed the flush in your cheeks and his smile softened.

He should say something witty. Make a reference to Lois Lane and make you blush harder.

He should do something. Step closer to you and brush your hair behind your ear. Get some of Aiden off of you and replace it with his own scent. You were looking at him like you were waiting for him to do something.

He turned and took a step towards you.

You didn't mean to step back. He knew that, you knew that. It didn't make the pang in his chest any less real. He didn't take any more steps forward.

He walked back inside instead.

Kyle Crane used to know how to sweet talk women.

He could charm a woman out of her better judgement in minutes. Flash her that crooked grin, show off his nice teeth, maybe throw in a wink or push her hair behind her ear and let his thumb brush over her cheek. He could vividly remember the way the girls in Iraq would blush at the bar when the smooth American soldier would flirt with him.

None of those girls were anything compared to you. He felt like the one flushed just handing you a drink in that crowded cave. Prettiest girl he'd seen in decades- maybe his life- and he was too rusty to confidently flirt with you. It didn't help that you were scared of him.

Kyle and Aiden had killed the Baron. Most of his soldiers were dead.

They had reason to celebrate, and they were. Lydia was resting in her quiet part of the cave, but the rest of the exiles and people from Town Hall were drinking and making merry. You were eating a kebab of venison and wild mushroom when Kyle approached you, holding a cup of whatever the hell Starchild had crafted.

“What is it?” You asked, peering into the cup. You wrinkled your nose at the smell and failed to bite back a smile of amusement, looking back up at him.

He smiled despite himself. He'd already downed two of the drinks- the first to ease the ache in his body, the second because the first made him feel so good. It made him feel warm and heavy and it made the self disgust in his chest almost non-existent.

Made it easier to be around you. Made his skin itch and made his eyes heavy. Made him smile at you.

“Good question. Don't even think Starchild really knows the answer.” He took a sip of his third drink. “It doesn't matter. Drink, you deserve it.”

It was obvious you didn't think you'd done much today. Kyle refused to let you come, it was far too dangerous, the risk of something happening to you far too high. Lydia had backed him up without explicitly stating you being there would be too much of a distraction for Kyle. So you stayed behind, and when they got back, you helped patch up the injured.

Which included Aiden. Despite his rapid healing you'd insisted on at least cleaning the wounds. The kid didn't even argue- what man would? A woman who looked like she'd stepped out of a Hollywood movie wanted to clean blood off his chest? Any man would jump at the opportunity, and several men had tonight.

Aiden wasn't as rusty as Kyle. The second he saw you that night he had turned on his charm. He grinned at you with his nice teeth, flexed in a way that wasn't obvious when you cleaned his back, spoke to you in that low voice that gave you goosebumps. Kyle saw it all. He saw himself in the kid. He saw Kyle Crane, about thirty years younger. And in you, he saw the countless girls he used to make swoon.

He forced himself to stop remembering the way your eyes lingered on Aiden's abs. The way you didn't flinch away when Aiden walked towards you. The way you didn't lean away when his hand came up to play with your hair while you cleaned a graze on his bicep.

“The whole thing?” You asked cautiously.

Kyle nodded. Part of him screamed at him to shake his head no- the whole thing might make you sick. But the part that wanted you to loosen up a little around him screamed louder.

It worked well. After your first few sips you'd visibly relaxed; your shoulders lowering, your posture straightening despite how close he was to you. You could look him in the eyes for more than half a second at a time.

And then you finished the drink. You sat a little closer to him on the log. He got you a second drink and then you were so close he could reach out and touch you.

You sat next to him in front of the fire later that night, two drinks in you, an easy smile on your lips as you nursed your third. You'd drifted into that effortless state of being you owned when Kyle wasn't around. The state that knew just how beautiful you were. You made purposeful eye contact with him and held it evenly. You leaned in when he spoke, laughed easily, and spoke in that soft voice he'd heard you use on traders when they had something you didn't want to pay full price for. But Kyle didn't have anything you wanted to pay for.

It wasn't an act. The realization made him a little bolder.

You were smiling after he'd told you a story about the time back in Harran when he crashed through someone's bathroom skylight while they were on the toilet when he was running from a Volatile.

“What did he do?”

Kyle snorted. “Screamed. Grabbed a gun he kept in the cabinet and shot at me.”

“What did you do?’

“Apologized and jumped back out of the skylight.”

You laughed. “Superman.”

He grinned at that.

Your laughter faded as you looked at him. You smiled to yourself before sipping your drink. “Maybe you need to drink this more often.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his voice lower and softer than it had been in over a decade. “I do, huh?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. It made his stomach flip. You were so beautiful it hurt to look at. “I like your stories. You haven't spoken this much in the… how long has it been? A little over a month?” When he nodded you smiled wider. “In the month I've known you. It's nice.”

He took a large sip of his fifth drink. The bitter taste was practically background noise to him now. “Haven't had a reason to talk this much lately.”

“You should definitely start drinking this more often then.” You teased, your voice playful and light. “You have a nice voice. It's a shame I barely ever hear it.”

The compliment oiled gears that he had forgotten existed. Gears he'd have trouble stopping from turning. His lip twitched in an almost grin.

“Nice voice.” He repeated, bringing his cup to his lips. “Yeah. Alright.”

Your brows shot up and you laughed softly. “I'm serious. It's really nice. I could fall asleep listening to you speak.”

“Sounds like a nice way to say you're bored.” He joked.

Your laugh made his pulse spike again. “No! You know that's not what I mean. It's deep… and rough in a good way.” Kyle noticed the way your own voice had lowered in volume again and turned softer and warmer. Meant for only his ears.

He lowered his voice in response, leaning forward slightly in his seat in the way he knew used to make girls' hearts flutter. “You're really laying it on thick tonight. Starting to think I should be worried. Am I gonna wake up with a missing kidney?”

The proximity and tone of his voice worked on you. He caught the faint flush on your cheeks and the way your eyes flickered between his mouth and his eyes like you couldn't decide what to look at. He felt another small wave of confidence wash over him.

“No.” You responded a little less smoothly, your voice a little breathier. “I'm just being honest. I can stop with the compliments, if you want. Just thought you should know you've got aces you aren't using.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a small, barely there grin. “I still remember how to run my mouth when a pretty girl gives me an opening. Might not shut up if you don't stop.”

He saw the way your pupils blew wider. His nostrils flared instinctively. His chest slowly rose as he inhaled the spike of warm sweetness in the air.

You licked your lips and forced a playful smile. “What would the Hero of Harran do?”

Kyle gave a real chuckle, slightly surprised at how easy it all felt now. “Back then? I'd already be telling you exactly what I've been thinking about doing to you since you first walked in this cave.” He said. “Would've made it sound a lot prettier than I probably can now.”

Your lips parted as you forced yourself to inhale slowly. His eyes followed the jump in your throat as you swallowed hard. They trailed down to the pulse he could see beating like a hammer in your neck, something he never would have been able to notice before he was turned into the monster he is now.

His eyes lingered on that frantic heartbeat before he dragged them back up to yours.

“What would he tell me?”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting down your form as he thought of a way to word what he was thinking without sounding fucking insane. It didn't take him as long as he expected before he opened his mouth again.

“He'd tell you to stop asking about him and just listen to what I have to say, because I'm not him anymore.” He murmured. “I don't wanna talk about what some dead version of me would do. I want to tell you that I hate smelling other men on you. Every time I smell someone else… Caldwell, Keller. I think about touching you until the only things you smell like anymore are my hands and my mouth.”

His words surprised even him. Still, he continued, leaning closer, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin as he looked down at you sitting beside him on that uncomfortable log. “That's what I wanna do. Right now, if you let me.”

Kyle watched as the gorgeous, once-so-confident woman in front of him melted away. A softer, warmer, more breathless girl replaced her. You were looking up at Kyle in a way that was similar to the other times you'd looked up at him; eyes wide and darting to every movement he made, lips parted, chest fluttering with quick breaths. Except now, you weren't trembling with fear.

You didn't have any equally smooth words to toss back at him. You didn't smirk or grin, or lean forward and drop your voice the way he had. All you could do was nod and breathe something in return. “Yeah. Please.”

“Yeah?” He murmured. His heart raced just as fast as yours, pounding against his ribs like a sledgehammer despite the intended opposite effect of Starchild's drink.

You nodded again.

He swept his gaze across the main cave chamber. Starchild was standing next to the pot he'd been refilling all night, pouring Florence her first cup. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with what he had in store for you, Kyle would've been shocked at the sight. Jacob was with her, laughing about something Starchild said. Aiden was talking with Keller and a few others Kyle recognized as Town Hall’s people.

No one was watching you. That was rare. There were usually a few sets of eyes on you at any given time.

Kyle looked back to you beside him and inhaled long and deep, raking his eyes over your body. He'd thought about this so many times, so many different ways. He ran through each in his head as he reached out and brushed your hair away from your neck.

The most recurring fantasy rang clear; a view of you from below, your mouth falling open in a shameless moan, your brows pinched tightly together, those beautiful eyes half-lidded and aimed down at him beneath you. You would lean down and kiss him every time he imagined it. Whisper something Kyle knew he'd never be lucky enough to hear come from your lips.

Right here though, right in front of him, you were looking at him like he was the only thing in that cave, leaning into his touch as he brushed his thumb along the line of your jaw. That mattered more than any moonlight fantasy.

The Hero of Harran would have carried you into that room he slept in by now. He probably would have your clothes off already.

The Beast of Castor Woods thought that was a great idea too.

He led you away from the main section of the cave, pushing through the tarp he'd put up over the opening to his smaller chamber. He'd put it up a day after he met you once he realized how often people walk past it to get to the rest of the cave.

The second that tarp fell back into place behind him he was on you. His hands settled on your hips the way they've done only a handful of times before when he had needed to steady you. You reached up, gripping onto the front of his green jacket as he dipped his head down to kiss you.

It went exactly the same as he'd imagined it hundreds of times in his head. Your lips were so soft, sweet from that rose tinted lip balm, and they moved just as soft and sweet against his. He leaned down lower, tilting his head to get a better angle, his lips slotting perfectly against yours.

His head spun. His breath caught in his throat. His heart hadn't beat that fast over a girl since he had his first kiss in eighth grade with Melissa Fox. He wasn't thinking about her, though, or any other woman he'd kissed. The second his lips touched yours, you were the only woman he could remember ever laying eyes on.

Your hands slid up the front of his chest, balling in his layered fabric, fingers trying to pull some of them apart. Kyle let you fumble with them by yourself for a while as he simply enjoyed kissing you, tasting your lips before he parted his.

He felt your breath warm over his mouth when you opened yours in response. He shared your air, inhaling your warm exhales, exhaling into your open mouth as he slipped his tongue past his teeth. He ran it over your bottom lip, then your top, tasting your lip balm directly before he dipped in further.

The very tip of his tongue met the very tip of yours and you sucked in this quiet, shuddery gasp that had something hot twisting low in his gut. He groaned in response and slid his tongue over yours, one hand leaving your waist to slip through that soft hair he'd dreamed of touching for a month. It felt just as soft and smooth as it looked, just as he imagined.

He pressed forward until his chest brushed against yours, the contact making your body sway back slightly. His hand still on your hip gripped a little tighter, steadying you, while his fingers wrapped loosely around a handful of hair.

He kissed you softer than he'd been planning on. In his heated thoughts he'd have you moaning in his mouth, his tongue down your throat, your lips red and puffy from his teeth.

This was better. You weren't moaning, you were gasping and letting out these quiet little whimpers. You were trembling under his touch with need. He could smell it on you. Oh, God. He could smell it.

The hand in your hair tightened at the realization, pulling your head back, opening you up more for his tongue. You gasped again in his mouth, sharper this time, and Kyle barely restrained a growl in response.

“Yeah?” He breathed against your lips slick with his saliva. His eyes scanned down over your face, taking in your disheveled expression of arousal. He tugged again, a little harder, drawing out that same sharp gasp. Your cheeks were flushed red. It made more and more blood leave his head.

You looked like you barely managed to answer him. “Uh-huh.” You exhaled.

He backed you up until your legs bumped against his crafting table. He dropped his head again, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth, trailing from your cheek to your jaw down to the side of your neck. He kissed that spot your pulse hammered underneath, his lips leaving faint traces of your mixed saliva. You shivered when his breath fanned over the damp spots.

His hand slid under your shirt. Your stomach was warm and soft under his rough palm. It was enough to draw another groan from deep in his throat. He sucked on that sweet spot on your neck while his hand slid up your torso, fingers mapping your tense abdomen up to the edge of your bra. Of course you were wearing a bra. It was you.

You, the stark contrast to everything that made Kyle who he was. Sweet. Pretty. Put together in a way that was foreign these days.

You reached behind you and unclasped it. You unhooked the straps, something Kyle thought was a fantastic mechanism, and let the fabric fall out from under your shirt to land near your feet. Kyle picked it up and set it on his table next to the cigarette butt with rose colored markings.

When he finally touched your breasts he couldn't help but grunt, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. They were perfect. Just as he- better than he imagined them. Just as pretty as the rest of you. He cupped them both with his hands, calloused thumbs brushing over your firm nipples.

“Fuck…” he exhaled against your neck before planting another open-mouthed kiss there. “Forgot how soft a woman could feel.”

You shuddered, arching into his hands. The way you responded so strongly to his touch had him emboldened once again. He pressed forward, his legs grazing yours as he planted a boot between your feet, his right knee gently nudging yours apart. He didn't immediately rush into it- he let you feel his thigh sliding higher up the insides of your thighs before he let his knee settle directly between them.

Your pelvis tilted forward just a fraction. Just enough for him to feel the friction and your heat on his knee through two layers of denim. You gasped again, soft and sweet, and Kyle firmly pressed his knee forward. He was desperate to hear that sound as many times as you'd let him. He pulled back, dragging his thick knee along your core, before he pushed it forward again.

You let out a louder sound at the movement, more of a strained whine than a gasp, and your hips rocked forward unintentionally, seeking more of that same, slow friction.

Kyle groaned in the crook of your neck. His hands pushed your shirt up, exposing your midriff to the cool air of the cave. He felt the goosebumps rise along your skin as he pushed and pushed until you were lifting your arms for him to start pulling. He set your shirt on top of your bra.

He devoured you with his eyes. They roamed over what little he could actually see, since he couldn't bear to take his hands off of your breasts for more than a second at a time. You were too soft and too warm.

He devoured you with his mouth next. He kissed down from your neck to your nipples, kissing delicately around each one before wrapping his lips around the hardened bud. He started with your right; swirling his tongue, drawing out more and more noises from you, tasting your sweat and faint honeysuckle lotion. He rolled your left nipple between his fingers before alternating, showing exactly equal attention to both. His knee continued that slow, heavy drag against your core, adjusting his pace to match your hips uneven grinding.

Your hands were threaded in his hair like you wanted to pull on it but couldn't due to the short length. He hummed around your nipple, his head instinctively leaning into your touch, and let his forehead rest against your collarbone while he sucked and nipped. Each time he grazed his teeth over your skin you would jolt slightly, your nails pressing into his scalp.

It took him forever to pull himself away from your chest. He looked down at you through heavy lids, his vision of you below him hazy, almost dreamlike. His pupils were blown so wide even his silver eye looked black. He let out a heavy sigh and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, shaking his head, eyes flicking over your face.

“God.” He sighed again. He threaded his fingers back through your hair, tilting your head up. He kissed your open mouth, quicker this time, more heat behind it. He licked into you while he rubbed his knee against you, swallowing every noise you made. When he parted you were both panting.

Restraint was something Kyle was never really good at. He could follow orders fine, as long as they came from someone else. He could rarely ever listen to himself. He wanted to go slow. As slow as possible.

He slid his hands down to your pants and unbuttoned them.

There was a flash of something across your features. Your breath stuttered and you froze for a heartbeat, your eyes snapping down to the big scarred hand tugging down the zipper on your jeans. When they met his gaze again, your eyes were wider. Just a fraction. Enough for him to notice.

“S’it okay if I touch you here, sweetheart?” He murmured as his fingers slipped beneath the elastic band of your panties. He could feel how ridiculously high quality they were, the fabric smooth and soft under his rough fingertips.

You inhaled a shaky breath and nodded.

“Yeah?” His fingers pushed over your mound, brushing at the very top of your folds. He was going to say something else, something smooth to coax you further into a mess, but when he felt how wet you were he forgot how to form sentences. All he could get out was a breathy, “Jesus Christ…”

He shouldn't have been surprised. He could tell how aroused you were by your scent. It only made sense for you to be as slick as you were. Still, it knocked something loose in his brain. Something he struggled to tighten.

You shuddered hard and rocked your hips again, grinding yourself against his knee, trying to get more of his fingers on you. You were wrecked. Almost as bad as he was.

He cocked his wrist and pushed his hand down the front of your pants to give you what you wanted. His fingers curved, cupping you fully, and he slid them up and down your slit, spreading your slickness around. It quickly coated the majority of his fingers.

You grabbed onto the waistband of your jeans and pushed them down to your mid thigh for him. He grunted in appreciation and rewarded you by pushing his middle finger inside you.

Your jaw dropped in a silent moan, your hands shooting behind you to grab onto the edge of his table.

Kyle managed a ghost of a grin at your response, and angled his wrist again, pushing his finger in deeper. You were so wet and tight, so hot around his finger, he found it hard to breathe properly. He didn't even realize he was breathing through his mouth until he had to lick his lips. Even then he didn't bother trying to correct it.

“Feel good?” He breathed, eyes flickering over your face to memorize the expression on it. He slowly withdrew his finger before plunging back in knuckle deep just as slowly.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded quickly, your eyes fluttering shut, your head rolling back.

He let out a shaky breath and looked down at his hand. Your panties were white, lace around the elastic band around your hips, a thinner strip around the leg holes. He cursed at the sight, his own hips twitching forward, brushing against your thigh.

It was getting hard to stand. His knees felt weak at the image in front of him, and he could see the way your thighs were already starting to shake around his hand.

“Come here.” He whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the chair behind him. He walked backwards towards it, looking back to you as he guided you back with him, his finger still slowly pumping inside you. You grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright and followed, taking short little steps, careful not to let his finger slip out.

Kyle thought that was impossible with the way you were squeezing him.

He sat down on the chair and pulled you into his lap. You immediately relaxed into him, your thighs spreading around his waist, allowing his finger to go deeper. You whined when he pulled it out, rocking your hips forward in protest.

“Shh. I've got you.” He shushed you gently as he hooked his fingers in your panties to pull them to the side. He pressed his finger back inside you, sinking in deep, and released his hold on the fabric, letting it hug the side of his hand. He pressed his thumb on your clit over the fabric and rolled a feather-light circle into it, drawing a whimper from you.

“There.” He sighed, resting his back against the back of the chair behind him, legs spread wide. “How's that?”

You nodded and hummed, the sound uneven in your throat. “Mmhmm-”

He nodded with you and curled his finger.

The way you reacted had his hips bucking up against you. Your hands landed on his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his jacket, to keep yourself from falling flat on top of him. You moaned unabashedly and rocked your hips forwards once, your eyes falling shut again.

“Fuck, yeah?” He panted.

“Mmm-yeah!” You were practically drooling. He curled his finger again, more force behind it, watching you fall apart on top of him from such little movement. Your hips rolled forward on their own, once, twice, and didn't stop. You fucked yourself on his finger, your control lost.

Kyle groaned and curled his finger faster. He kept circling your clit with his thumb, but your movements made it slip more than once. He didn't care. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

“That's it, sweetheart.” He rasped. “Use me.”

You choked on a moan and continued doing exactly that, grinding in his lap, each roll of your hips dragging against his painfully hard cock. He failed to bite back a particularly rough groan, his free hand landing on your hip. He gripped you tight and aided your movements, pulling you back and forth along his length beneath his jeans. You were dripping down between the creases of his fingers, dampening the crotch of his pants. The sight made him stop what he was doing to fumble his belt open.

He tried to keep his finger moving while he unbuckled his belt, but when he pushed the metal pin back through the hole in the leather, you whined some nonsensical complaint. Your hips jerked forward impatiently.

“Hold on, baby.” His voice struggled to stay even as he pulled the belt through the buckle. His fingers trembled as he tried to unbutton his jeans. “Goddamnit!” He cursed under his breath, pausing to grab your hip again and continue jerking you over his cock.

Kyle Crane had never been this worked up. Not just over a girl, but in general. He felt like he did the day he escaped the lab, right when he injected himself with adrenaline. His heart was racing so hard he could hear it in his ears. It was deafening. His palms were sweating, his body felt clammy, his mouth dry and watering at the same time.

You reached down and gave mercy, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You tried to tug them down and failed, the angle too awkward, his body too heavy.

It was enough for him to lift his hips straight off the chair, tugging them down himself with one hand. He sat back down and yanked your body forward until you dragged right over his cock over his boxers.

He groaned loud and long, letting his head roll back against the cave wall. He jerked his hips up hard, grinding his cock against your ass, his pelvis pressing his hand tighter against you, his finger deeper up in you. You moaned with him and clutched onto his jacket again.

You were close, he could feel it in the way your walls clenched impossibly tighter around his finger. He curled it faster, harder, his eyes locked on your face as he focused on making you come as quickly as possible.

For a heartbeat, he felt the words come out of him effortlessly. Like riding a bike. He didn't even need to think, his body just spoke to you, saying exactly what it knew you needed to hear.

“Don’t stop.” He panted, helping you fuck yourself on his finger as he curled it relentlessly. “Don't stop, baby. Let me see it.”

Your jaw dropped again and you trembled hard, your body practically vibrating on top of him, your hands uselessly fisting his jacket as you moved your hips in greedy rolls. You had no coordination anymore. Kyle didn't care. He encouraged it. He wanted to see more of it.

“Come on baby. Give it to me. I know you're right there.” He urged in that low tone he knew you loved. “Come on, girl. Come on.”

Your upper body collapsed against him as you came with a broken moan. Kyle quickly threaded his fingers through your hair and pulled your head to the side on his chest, not wanting to miss the look on your face when you came. He looked down at you, cursing under his breath at the sight of you trying to keep your eyes open long enough to meet his gaze.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that, just like that, baby.” The words tumbled out rushed and breathy. He curled his finger harder, desperately trying to draw it out longer, to draw more pleasure. He wanted to see every second of it.

You choked on a moan, your eyes fluttering shut. You'd tried so hard to keep them open for him. That alone had him throbbing against your ass through his boxers.

“That's my girl.” He breathed, softer as your movements slowed. “Let it all out. Give me every bit of it.”

You gave one last weak roll, grinding his finger deeper before you went limp in his lap. Your hands slipped down his chest, landing with a soft thump on his waist. You were panting hard, damn near concerning Kyle as the last aftershocks pulsed through you.

He was so hard it hurt. When he finally pulled his hand out from between your legs, the back of his hand dragged over his length and he hissed. He brought his fingers to his mouth and inhaled, not giving a shit how perverted he had become. The old Crane would have raised a brow. Smelling pussy on his fingers and getting off on it? When there was a pussy right in his lap he could be fucking instead? A bit much.

Kyle didn't care. You smelled better than anything he'd ever smelled before. He let out a quick, shuddery exhale, running his tongue over his finger and down the back of his hand where you'd dripped down to his wrist.

You were still trembling against his chest when he reached down between you to palm his cock over the fabric. He didn't mind. It was proof he'd done a good job.

He had all night with you. He could wait for you to recover. In the meantime, he wrapped his arms around your waist and stood. You clung to him as he walked himself back to the bed a few feet away, moaning softly when he sat down on the edge of it. He scooted back, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other planting on the mattress as he moved back until he could lean against the cave wall.

You shifted forward and buried your face in his neck, planting a clumsy kiss to his jaw.

“Good girl.” He sighed, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. He groaned. He used his free hand to tug you along his length. You could feel every inch of him now without his hand as a barrier between your core and his cock. He was thick, the heat bleeding through the two layers of fabric. He throbbed against you, his tip dragging under your sensitive clit on each pass. “Fuck. You feel that?”

You moaned weakly against his chest and nodded, rocking your hips forward, applying more pressure. The sound Kyle let out was filthy- it should have embarrassed him. It was loud and raw and completely unfiltered and too much for dry humping.

He finally found his voice again. “You feel what you've been doing to me the last month? Every fucking night. S’all for you.”

His words had an obvious effect on you. You planted your hands on his chest again and pushed yourself up, sitting back fully on his dick. It drew a long grunt from behind clenched teeth and he rocked up to meet you. You had that same look in your eyes you had when he had you pressed up against his crafting bench.

Silently pleading for more. You didn't want to say it. Kyle wanted you to, though, he wanted you to say it badly. He was going to make you.

“Yeah.” He continued, dragging the moment out. “S’what you've been missing. Would've given it to you whenever… wherever. Been ready for you for thirty six fucking days.”

You whimpered, grinding against him in a wordless plea.

He clenched his jaw harder, and forced himself to wait a few more seconds. “You could've had this the day we fucking met. All you had to do was ask, baby. You could've asked me to fuck you in front of the whole goddamn cave and I would've.”

You thought he was exaggerating. He wasn't. It would've taken the Baron's entire army to pull him out of you if you asked him to fuck you that day, or any day since. His words were quickly unraveling you again, your fingers shook as they started unbuttoning and unzipping the layered jackets over his chest, still unconsciously grinding on him.

Kyle leaned up, helping you take his green jacket off. He stopped you before you could go for the second, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of your jaw. “You want me to fuck you now, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice soft and sweet.

You nodded quickly, your cheek brushing against his thick beard.

“Yeah?” He continued, voice rising in pitch, still sickly sweet. “Want me to stick my dick in you?”

“Please.” Your first coherent word in several minutes, even if it trembled. “Yes, please, Kyle.”

Kyle. Not Crane. Kyle. Someone calling him by his first name like that was rare. Not only was it rare, but having a beautiful girl say his name in that needy, completely submissive and feminine tone?

His eyes slammed shut and he groaned again, raw and unfiltered against the side of your throat. He rocked up against you. “Fuck.”

His reaction stirred something in you. Raw desperation you'd never felt before. You'd never surrendered yourself like this to a man before, you'd never put your entire being in a man's hands like you did now.

You leaned forward again and peppered a rushed line of kisses along the side of his neck. “Please, Kyle, I want you so bad. It hurts.”

“Fuck.” He growled, his cock twitching hard. “Want me to take care of that ache you got?”

“Y- yeah.”

“Yeah? S’that right?”

You nodded in the crook of his neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Please- please? Please take care of it, Kyle, pl-please, please-”

“Shh, baby. Don't worry. I've got you.” Kyle crooned, something else he'd never done before meeting you. He nudged your head back with his nose, planting open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. He slid you back just enough to reach his cock. “Gonna make it so good for you. Gonna give it to you so good.”

He was slipping his hand under his waistband when Aiden's voice called out from down the hall, clearly thoroughly fucked up from whatever he'd been drinking or taking.

You tensed up and started to slide a leg off of him, automatically reaching for a nearby blanket. Kyle grabbed your thigh with one hand, still stroking himself with the other, and pulled you back down.

“Crane, you in there?” Aiden called again, closer this time. “There's a lady on the radio from the Monastery, says she wants to talk to you, Benson or Benny-” he was slurring.

Your heart dropped.

“Not now.” Kyle called out in a tone so firm it made you flinch. He'd been using that soft, sweet talk on you for the last half hour you had almost forgotten how imposing he could sound.

“She said it was important-” he was right outside the tarp. Kyle could feel your heart racing against his chest as you tried to slink flat like you could will the two of you to disappear. “Wanted you to come see something.”

“No.” You whimpered, your thighs squeezing around his waist like you could make him stay. “Kyle, please don't.”

Both of you knew Olivia saying something was important meant exactly that. Whatever it was had to be time sensitive for her to call in this late and ask for his presence. She'd even called Aiden. Kyle's own radio laid on his table, turned off for this exact reason.

That importance paled in comparison to you on top of him begging him to stay and fuck you. It wasn't even a hard decision to make. He didn't even think about it, didn't need to. Olivia would have to make it wait.

“Handle it yourself or tell her I'll see her in the morning. I'm occupied.” Kyle answered simply, his hand stroking up the side of your thigh, his grip on it loosened now.

“It sounded pretty urgent-”

Kyle sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to the side of your temple. He could feel the way you were practically shaking at the threat of not being able to finish what he'd started. “Caldwell, whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. I'm not available.”

Aiden didn't immediately move away, his shadow shifting behind the tarp.

“Don't make me get up.” Kyle added. That was more than enough. The wasted younger man brought the radio back up to his mouth and said something over it you couldn't understand, walking away. Kyle didn't know why Aiden cared so much. He looked like he was seconds away from killing her when he ran into her after Kyle killed the Baron. Lydia had to threaten to lay him out with her abilities when he charged at the scientist. Aiden reacted worse to betrayals than Kyle did.

You immediately melted against him, giving him grateful little kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. You rushed to pull his second jacket off, and he leaned up off the wall to help you.

His cock was still painfully hard beneath you. It hadn't softened so much as a fraction in the uncomfortable thirty seconds Aiden had interrupted, it was still throbbing against you through both of your damp layers. He rocked his hips up before grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it up and over his head, the washer hanging around his neck thumping against his chest in the process. He tossed the shirt haphazardly onto the floor somewhere, not bothering to look where it landed. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

You'd sat up on your knees to tug your panties off. Kyle waited before you were done, wanting to witness every move you made, before he started tugging his jeans down further. He watched you help; unlacing his boots for him, pulling them off, letting them thump down onto the floor beside the bed. You even grabbed onto his pants legs and tugged them down while he pulled his legs free.

He didn't bother with his boxers. You were already climbing back in his lap before he had time to take them off. He just hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pushed down until his cock sprang free. It smacked against his stomach, bobbing once before he wrapped his hand around the base and gave himself a few slow strokes.

When his eyes flicked up to your face he inhaled a ragged breath.

Your lips were barely parted again, your pupils blown black, your eyelids heavy and half-lidded as you looked down at his cock. Your expression was inarguably one of molten desire. He stroked himself just looking at your face, putting a little effort into making a show of it for you. He spit in his hand and slid his wet palm down the underside of his length, smearing it over him. He wrapped his hand back around himself at the base and tugged upwards, twisting his wrist at the tip.

His other hand joined in, cupping his balls, pressing them tight against himself as he gave another slow stroke. His hand paused at his tip again and he gripped it in his palm, massaging it for a few seconds before he slid back down to the base.

“Come here.” He murmured, lifting his knee slightly so you had no choice but to scoot further into his lap. “Touch me if you want, sweetheart.”

You reached out and he pulled his hand off of him, grabbing the back of yours. He tilted your palm up and brought it up to his mouth where he spit in it, less aggressive than the way he'd spat into his own hand. He pulled your hand back down and guided you to curl your fingers around his length.

The sight took his breath away.

Kyle Crane knew he was a big man. Even before the virus and the experiments he was a big man. He was a lot bigger now. Not just his physique, but his cock, too. And your hand made it look even bigger, with your thinner, shorter fingers. Your clear coat of nail polish reflected the dim purple glow of UV and the warmer amber hue from the lantern on his desk.

He loved that you took the time to do something as trivial as painting your nails, doing your makeup every morning, repeatedly using lip balm throughout the day. You made looking so beautiful look like art. Even now, staring down at his cock in your hand, you were still the picture of feminine beauty. You weren't even trying.

You gave an experimental stroke, your eyes flicking up to watch him. You let out a shaky breath at the look on his face.

He gave a reassuring nod, motivating you to keep going. You repeated the action, squeezing a little tighter near the base. He groaned and let his head thump back against the wall, lowering his eyes to keep them locked on you.

He couldn't let you go on for too long like this. Ever since you sat in his lap he'd been holding back his orgasm. He would surely come if you kept this up for more than a few strokes.

Still, he didn't want to rush it. He needed to see his cock in your mouth before he died. He might not get another chance with you like this.

“Squeeze right here.” He murmured, guiding your hand back down to the base. When you did as he said he hissed through his teeth, hips bucking up into your fist. “Fuck, yeah. Perfect. Keep going just like that.”

You nodded mostly to yourself and licked your lips, your eyes locked on his dick. You moved your other hand to the tip and massaged it like you'd seen him do, wrapping your fingers around it, rubbing it against your palm.

It felt like the air had been punched from him. He sucked in a breath, rocking up again as you massaged the tip and squeezed the base. His hand slid up your bare shoulder, giving a little squeeze before he moved to caress the back of your head. He pulled, just barely.

“C’mere.” He breathed. “Taste it. Just for a second.”

You glanced up at him for a second and nodded before shifting your hips back, settling against the bottom of his thigh. He grunted when he felt your wet heat sinking down on his leg, and he couldn't help but flex the muscle, earning a quiet whimper from you as you lowered your head.

When he felt your warm breath against his tip he shuddered under you. He threaded his fingers through your hair again and gripped a handful of it, gentle and guiding, mostly just so he could touch some part of you.

“Go on. Give it a little kiss.” He murmured, slowly lifting his hips, bringing the tip closer to your mouth. He choked on a groan when you leaned down and pressed your lips against him, kissing the head, your tongue poking out to drag the tip through his slit. You kissed the side of his head next, then the underside, your tongue stopping to massage that little velvety patch right under the tip.

Kyle cursed under his breath. His fingers unconsciously tightened in your hair. “That's it.”

When you took the tip in your mouth, he had to bite into his fist to keep himself from coming right then and there. He groaned again, louder than the last one, and rocked his hips up, pushing just a centimeter deeper past your lips.

When you swirled your tongue around him he had to pull you off. He gasped, his abdomen tensing hard, and pulled your head back gently but immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” You rushed, your eyes wide and panicked. It broke his heart.

“No, no, baby.” He panted. “You're perfect. Too perfect. Jus’ need a second.”

You looked confused for a moment, and then you processed his words and the confusion faded to pride. You grinned up at him and nodded, straightening up, taking your hands off him.

He slid his hands down to your sides and gave them a squeeze before he moved you, lifting and turning you until your head rested against his pillow. He felt a flash of embarrassment at the shitty quality of it- limp and flat, no better than a folded jacket, before he looked down at your bare body.

He sat up and climbed over you, lowering himself down onto his elbows. You looked so delicate like this, caged under him, your soft skin and gentle curves looking out of place under his jagged, scarred body. Something about that made his cock twitch as he settled between your spread thighs.

He dropped his head and kissed you once, savoring the way you instantly opened your mouth for him before he kissed down to your neck. He lingered on your pulse point, sucking and nipping the skin while you whined, before pulling back to look at it. He hadn't even meant to mark you like that, but a deep purple spot in the shape of his mouth was blooming right where your pulse pounded.

That was a lie. He meant to do that. He just prayed you wouldn't get upset with him about it.

He kissed down your chest, stopping at your nipples to give them a similar treatment. Your thighs clenched around him, your hips rocking up in search of friction they didn't get. You whined in frustration but he took his time, swirling his tongue around your nipple before switching to the other. He pinched one between his fingers as he nipped one, drawing out sharp gasps and mewls that made him groan in the back of his throat.

When he started kissing down your stomach your thighs clenched like you were trying to stop him. He looked up at you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your navel, letting the tip of his tongue dip in. The face you made had him grinding his cock into the mattress beneath him.

“Kyle-”

He pressed one more kiss below your belly button before lifting his head. “Yeah?”

“Please, I want you.” Your cheeks burned.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a second to recover from what he'd just heard. He opened them and found your face again. “I know. But I wanna taste you. You'll let me, won't you?”

You whimpered, shifting your thighs around his ribs. “I want you.”

“Fuck.” He rutted against the mattress again like an animal before he forced his hips to still. “Shh, relax. Just lemme taste it, baby.”

You swallowed hard before finally nodding.

He gave you a small smirk and continued sinking down your body. He spread your thighs a little wider for him, running his hands up the soft skin of your inner thighs as he drank in the sight of you.

“Jesus.” He breathed. You were beautiful everywhere. Your face, your body, your pussy. Wet, flushed, glistening. His. He leaned down and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the skin above your clit, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling like he was huffing gasoline.

He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. The concentrated smell of you made him feel drunk beyond belief. He fucked himself against the mattress and dragged the tip of his tongue down through your folds. The taste of you was indescribable. Sweet, heady, utterly beautiful in a way only a woman could taste. Only you could taste.

A rough sound rumbled deep in his chest and he licked back up, stopping to swirl his tongue around your clit. Your hips twitched up and you gasped, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Goddamnit, sweetheart.” He breathed against your slick folds. “You're perfect. Fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect.” He didn't hesitate to stick his tongue back out and drag it back through your folds. Up to your clit, swirl around it, down to your entrance for the same treatment. He pushed his tongue as deep as he could manage, nosing your clit as he licked inside you.

You moaned. Loud. Your hips jerked up and he clamped a hand on them, keeping them in place while his other held your thigh spread and open for him.

He didn't rush. He licked into you with exploratory strokes, savoring each inch of your pussy like he had all the time in the world. He held your hips down hard while he worked so he could focus. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, his eyes flicking up to your face to watch every little micro-expression.

He loved everything about you. He loved the way you couldn't keep your eyes open or your hips still. He loved the way you tried so hard to keep quiet. The way you tossed your head side to side when he stuck his finger back inside you and pumped it. The way your back arched off the bed when he curled it. The way you trembled when he sucked your clit harder.

“Kyle, Kyle, oh-!” You cried out, digging your nails into his scalp, drawing a groan from his lips closed around your clit.

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He panted, swirling his tongue. The wet sounds from his mouth and your slick heat made his cock throb under him, pressed tight between his body and the sheets. He rocked his hips as he watched your jaw drop. “Do it. Come on.”

You nodded quickly to nothing in particular as that tight rope inside you snapped. You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle your cry, the nails of your other hand sinking into his scalp. You rocked your hips and he let you. He stuck his tongue out and kept it flat and tense for you to simply grind your pussy against. You were bucking too hard for him to do anything fancy.

The act of you practically humping against his tongue nearly made him come right then and there. For a second he wished he had let himself come earlier so he could be certain he'd last long enough to fuck you the way you deserved to get fucked.

Only when you had slowed to a lazy grind did Kyle pull his cramped tongue back in his mouth. He pressed a few quick kisses to the mess he'd made of your pussy, grinning against you to himself when you whimpered at the oversensitivity.

He kissed back up your body, rubbing one hand over your breast as he sucked and nipped at your neck. “God.” He breathed against your throat, shifting to the other side of your neck to kiss there. He squeezed your breast with one hand and pushed the other through your hair. “Can't get enough of you.”

He understood it was too much. He knew it was probably incredibly unhealthy, the way he was about you. He knew it was a bad idea, given his history with women after enlisting. He knew he was putting you in danger.

But he also knew he could protect you from that danger if you'd let him. He knew he'd set this whole filthy world ablaze to keep you warm. He knew that didn't make him Superman. Superman wasn't selfish.

In his case. the needs of you outweigh the needs of the many.

And now, you needed him to fuck you.

He wrapped an arm under your back and pulled you up, turning you both until he was leaning against the cave wall with you in his lap again.

You made a noise in the back of your throat, maybe a complaint. You were like jelly in his arms, slumping against his chest. He didn't mind. He could hold you. He kept one arm wrapped around your waist, the other banding up your spine to keep you pressed tight against his chest. His hand cupped the back of your head, keeping your face in the crook of his neck as he started sliding you back and forth on his cock.

You gasped against his neck, the sound sharp. He shuddered and pulled your hair away from your ear to press a quick kiss there.

“So wet.” He murmured under his breath, mostly to himself, as he slid your pussy back and forth over his swollen length. “Lift up a little.”

You obeyed, sitting up on your wobbly knees. He slipped his hand between your bodies and held himself up with a hand around the base, looking down to guide himself to your entrance. He slid the tip from your clit down your slit and back up a few times, gathering your wetness on him before he tapped your ass with his free hand.

“Okay. Slow.” He breathed. His heart was racing so fast and so hard it hurt. He couldn't take his eyes away as he watched you slowly lower your hips down.

His tip immediately slid back up your slit. He grunted, irritated, and gripped himself tighter while you reset your position.

You tried again, even slower, reaching down to try and help hold his tip in place as you pressed down. You hissed through your teeth when he was met with too much resistance.

“Shh, relax for me.” He urged, but he was just as impatient as you. You were soaked, that wasn't the problem. You were just so fucking tight, and he was so fucking thick. He pushed his hips up as you pressed down again. He felt you open up for him just a little, stretching that tight ring of muscles around his tip.

At this point all he had to do was thrust up into you, or pull you down on him. But he looked up and saw the way you were wincing and stopped himself. He didn't move a muscle, freezing under you despite the way his entire body trembled with desire.

You took your time lowering yourself down. You kept sucking in these sharp little breaths as he stretched you more and more, your brows knitted tightly together, your upper lip twitching just slightly from the burn. You choked on a whimper when the tip popped through, your body locking up, freezing you into place.

“Shit… breathe, baby. Just breathe.” He stroked your thigh, his hand shaking from restraint on your skin. His heart ached when you let out a long whine. “I know, I know. I'm sorry.”

“No.” You shook your head and offered a quick, apologetic kiss to his lips, taking in another half inch. “It's okay. S’jus’ been a- a while.”

A while. What did that mean to you? He huffed out a strained breath of amusement. “Yeah? Me fucking too.” A while for him was an understatement. The Baron had him for thirteen years. He hadn't been with a woman since before Harran, and that was…

A really, really long time ago.

Eventually you got down about halfway. At that point your legs were threatening to give out, so Kyle grabbed onto your hips with both hands and held you up, holding your full weight, slowly dragging you down the rest of the way.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart… you feel… unbelievable.” He choked as he rocked his hips gently, fucking just a little more into you.

He lost his breath just watching your face as you struggled to take him. Part of him felt pained for you, the other part- the part the Baron carved into him- groaned at the sight. It was beyond a confidence boost.

“You okay?” He breathed out as he pulled you down another inch.

You nodded. Barely.

“Yeah?” He continued, glancing between your face and his cock disappearing into you. When you nodded he rocked his hips just slightly, fucking another inch into you before pulling back down.

You rolled your hips in response, signaling for him to keep going. He grunted behind clenched teeth and pulled you down the last bit. He felt his tip press against your cervix as your ass came in contact with his pelvis. He throbbed inside you, grinding up without even meaning to.

The feeling of you wrapped around him, squeezing the life out of him, made his head spin. His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs as he struggled not to buck up against you like a rabid animal.

You let yourself slump forwards again, your forehead resting against his shoulder as a high whine sounded in your throat. “Fuck.”

He shuddered and let his arm rest vertically up your spine again, his hand cupping the back of your neck. “God, baby. Feel so fucking good.”

You moaned into his neck at the praise, your hips twitching forward in response, grinding his tip against your cervix in a way that had you moaning again.

He longed to hear more of that. Feel more of that. Knowing that something as simple as praising you would get him that made it easier.

“Never felt anything like you.” He murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Never.”

You clenched around him and kissed the crook of his neck. “More.” Another kiss, quicker. “More. Please.”

He let out a breath. “Yeah? You want more?”

You nodded.

He gripped your hips tighter and lifted you about three inches up and held you there. He braced his feet on the mattress and lifted his hips, sliding those three inches back into you before drawing back nice and slow. You gripped onto his biceps as he fucked up into you like that, three inches out, three inches back up, slow and deep and purposeful.

The noises you made in his neck made him move a little quicker. He held you suspended above him and sped up his thrusts, keeping them gentle but intense, drawing out slightly louder moans each time he buried himself to the hilt.

He pulled you back down tight on his lap and held you there, moving his hips in deep circles that ground his tip against a spot inside you that had you trembling on top of him.

“There?” He rasped, repeating the movement with more force behind it. You clenched around him hard in response, rolling your hips forward in search of more of it. He groaned, tilting his head back against the wall and pulled you down harder, circling his hips deeper. “Yeah? Right there?”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

“Fuck.” He shuddered. He fucked like that for a while, holding you tight in his lap, moving his hips in wide circles, digging his cock around deep inside you in search of every single spot that made you clench.

He pulled you out from his neck to kiss you suddenly, his tongue immediately slipping past your parted lips. He licked inside your mouth, fucking you with his tongue as he started moving his hips in long rolls. You moved against him, easily matching his exact rhythm in a way that had both of you moaning.

One arm wrapped around your back, holding you flush against his chest, while the other stayed wrapped around your hips to guide your body over his.

When he lifted you again and started fucking you harder, you completely lost it. You panted hot and heavy against his neck, a broken whimper sounding deep in your throat each time he thrusted up. You were clenching around him so tight he had to take a second to compose himself before resuming, gripping your waist just as tight as you were gripping him.

“Kyle-” you choked on a moan, “I'm- fuck, please?”

“Please what?” He panted, snapping his hips faster, chasing your tight heat. You just cried out in response, begging again. “What do you need, baby? Tell me. I'll give you anything.”

“The thing- do the thing again.” You pleaded. You pushed down on him, trying to fall flush in his lap again, but he didn't budge until he understood what you meant. He didn't even register the fact you were struggling against him until you cried out another weak ‘please!’.

He pulled you down and held you tightly in place while he circled his hips again. At some point you took over and he fell still, letting you set the pace, watching you grind your hips in quick, jerky circles.

“F-fuck-” he choked on a groan. “There you go. You got it, sweetheart. Use me.”

Something about you taking control like that, using his cock to get yourself off while he just laid there had him fighting off his orgasm again. He pressed the side of his head against your temple and focused on his breathing, gripping onto your thighs like he was scared you'd be ripped away from him if he didn't.

You bit into his neck to stifle your moan when you came around him.

It was blinding. He sucked in a gasp as you clenched down hard, your hips bucking thoughtlessly, chasing your own pleasure. He could feel your walls pulsing around him. Trying to milk him before he even came. The thought had him choking on another gasp and coming inside you before he could stop himself.

He didn't even process doing it. He just rutted up into you with animalistic movements, holding you down as tight as possible, keeping his tip flush with your cervix as he emptied himself deep inside. His hips gave shallow thrusts, fucking his cum as high as it would go before he even finished coming.

Kyle didn't even think about pulling out. It wasn't a possibility. Not now, not before. Your fate was sealed the second you let him lead you into his room. You'd be going to sleep pumped full of him, and not even Lydia with her psychic abilities could change that.

He groaned loud and raw against the side of your head. You were still milking him. When you realized he'd come inside you you'd stiffened, moving to pull your head out of his neck, but he just gripped you tighter and fucked his cum deeper.

He didn't stop. He didn't even soften. The second he was able to think again, Kyle kept one arm around your back and the other under your ass, holding you tightly against him as he sat up. He moved you effortlessly, turning and laying you down on your back with your head on his pillow again.

“Fuck. Sorry, baby.” He muttered under his breath as he shifted between your thighs. He hadn't pulled out in the move, not even an inch, staying buried deep inside you as the last few spurts left his cock.

“S’okay.” Your voice trembled from the intensity of your own orgasm.

He shook his head, but he didn't stop lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist. It wasn't okay. But, fuck… he found it hard to give a shit when you were looking up at him like you loved him. The thought made his cock pulse inside you and he rocked it deeper.

“Never came that hard before.” He admitted breathlessly. “And- I'm still-” he rocked his hips again, making you feel exactly how hard he still was, how hard he was throbbing for you. “Feel it? That's all you. Fuck.”

You mewled helplessly and nodded, clenching around him at his words and the way he was pushing his cum deeper into you.

You gasped, hands flying to his biceps. “Shit-”

He exhaled a rough breath and lowered himself down on his elbows, caging you in again, and kissed you. He swallowed your groan when he rocked harder. He slid his tongue around yours before pulling back to plant a messy kiss on your jaw. “Fuck.”

“Kyle-” you huffed, shifting under him. “It's- a lot-”

“Yeah. I know.” He groaned and kissed the side of your throat. “You're doing so good, though. So good for me. Gonna keep being this good?”

You gave a soft little sigh at his words and nodded, his beard scraping against your neck. “Yeah. Wanna be good for you.”

He growled in approval and rolled his hips again. “You are. So good, baby. Just take it.”

You nodded again.

He kissed the corner of your mouth and lifted himself back onto his elbows. He kept rocking into you like that, slow and heavy and intense, watching the way your tense face slowly melted into something more pleasurable. Only then did he start putting more force into his movements, his tip pushing deep against your cervix again.

You pressed your hand down firm on your stomach. The sight made him huff out a heavy breath. “You feel me all the way up there?”

Your breath hitched and you shivered under him. “Uh-huh…”

He groaned, speeding up, the sound of skin on skin growing louder in the small cave chamber. His eyes darted to the tarp- he could still see the dim glow of the campfire down the tunnel, and distant UV lights. With his sensitive hearing he could pick up the faint sounds of people talking in the main chamber. No one was nearby. Even if they were, Kyle didn't care. Let them hear. He wanted them to hear. Especially Aiden.

The thought of Caldwell made him clench his jaw and look back down at you. He remembered the shameless way the younger man had flirted with you, and the way you'd seemed to be receptive to it. He remembered the way you blushed and smiled when Aiden put his hand on your waist while you cleaned a bullet graze on his bicep.

Fuck. Why was that bothering him now? He was the one balls deep inside you, not Aiden. He was the one you had come three times for. Not Aiden. Kyle was the one you were looking up at like you loved him. Kyle's cock was the one you were clenching your pussy around. It was his cum and his cock filling you.

He pushed his hips flush and circled them the way you liked, drawing out a gasp and a string of incoherent babbling. He stayed there, grinding hard, eyes locked on your face beneath his. His pelvis ground against your clit, his unruly pubes providing you with a texture that was too much. You twisted under him, squeezing your eyes shut tight, your hips instinctively trying to shift away from him.

“Kyle- f-fuck- gentle.” You gasped, your thighs shaking around his waist.

He immediately eased the pressure, relaxing his muscles a bit and putting less force into his grinding. He didn't stop. “Too much?” He asked, his voice rough and strained.

“Little bit.” You panted, your grip on his biceps loosening slightly.

“Okay. I've got you.” He dipped down and pressed an apologetic kiss to your lips before giving one to your jaw. “Still feel good, though?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Y-yeah. Uh-huh. Don't stop.”

He laughed, the sound rough and airy. “Don't worry about that. Just tell me what you need.”

You swallowed, your eyes fluttering back open to look up at him. “Like this… just for a minute.” He noticed the way you were able to hold his gaze for a solid five seconds before you looked away, a massive improvement that made him thrust a little faster without meaning to.

He nodded.

He fucked you like that for a minute; his thrusts slow, shallow, gentle, barely pulling out an inch before pushing back in and grinding. His stamina was starting to surprise him. He was shaking, but not from exertion. His arms were trembling from the sheer ecstasy coursing through him. It was almost overwhelming. He'd never felt anything like you before.

When your thighs stopped trembling and your body started relaxing more, Kyle started drawing back a little more before pushing back in. He watched your face, memorizing the way your lips trembled and your eyes fluttered when he hit that spot you loved.

He could fuck you like this for hours. It was halfway soothing, even to him. He didn't even realize that he hadn't thought about the Baron or Harran since you nodded at him in front of the fire out there.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he couldn't fuck you like this for hours.

After a while it was getting harder to hold himself back. You were still so tight, so slick around him, his instincts were screaming at him to start really fucking you. He needed to pull all the way out and slam back in balls deep. He needed it. He fucking needed it.

“Can I go a little faster?” He murmured, giving an experimental faster thrust.

Your hips rocked up to meet it, taking him deeper in the process. You didn't even need to open your mouth and answer him after doing that, but you did. “Please.”

A rough breath of relief punched from his lungs and he shifted. He leaned up on his knees and grabbed your thighs, hooking his arms under the bends of your knees, and pushed them down. He nearly folded you in half, letting his body weight slowly press your legs back until his chest came to rest against the backs of your thighs. Your knees brushed against your shoulders, ripping a strained grunt from your lips.

Kyle groaned, the sound raw and animalistic in his chest. “Fuuuck.”

He'd opened you up so deep. You felt impossibly tighter with your body folded like this, your hips tilted up for him, his heavy form pinning you immobile.

You choked on a word he couldn't understand.

“This okay?” His voice shook. He prayed you wouldn't say no, grinding his tip deep inside you as if that would magically make you say yes.

“Uh-huh!” You nodded, cheeks flushed bright pink.

He grinned slightly, glancing down at where his cock had fully disappeared between your legs before he looked back up at your face beneath his. “Uh-huh?” He repeated, almost sounding mocking.

You nodded again, quicker. “F-fuck- s’deep.”

He huffed a rough laugh and kissed your knee. “I know. You're taking it like you were made for it.”

Your whimper caught in your throat and you clenched around him, wiping the grin from his lips and pulling a groan from them instead.

“Yeah? You like hearing that?” He asked as he rocked his hips a little faster.

“Yeah.” You looked almost bashful then, something Kyle never thought he'd see on you. “Can you say it again?”

“You were made for me, baby. Taking my cock so fucking good.” He whispered in a low voice, fully sheathing and grinding hard.

You gasped, reaching up to grab onto his shoulders. He gave a particularly rough thrust, jolting your body and drawing a broken cry from you. It didn't sound pained- the exact opposite. Kyle's restraint started snapping when he heard it.

He tried to hold on for a little longer. Keep fucking you nice and slow like you liked. But, fuck. Each time he buried deep you'd clench around him and tilt your hips up like you wanted more.

He could give you more. He could give you so much more.

He pulled back until only the tip remained, and snapped his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass. You yelped, the sound echoing in his room. He leaned onto one elbow and his hand flew to your mouth, quickly muffling the rest of your noises.

“They're gonna think I'm in here killing you, sweetheart.” He managed a short huff of a laugh, trembling as he pulled his hips back to repeat the action. Your yelp was a lot quieter behind his palm, which killed him. He wanted to hear every noise you made. He wanted them to hear every noise you made. But not if those noises sounded like he was genuinely in here ripping you apart.

You nodded behind his hand, your eyes wide and glassy. You were so overwhelmed a tear trickled out the side of your eye towards your temple. Your brows were knitted together and your nostrils flared hard.

The image shouldn't have excited him so much.

He leaned down and kissed away the tear, running the tip of his tongue up the path back to the corner of your eye, where he pressed another kiss, and slammed his hips forward.

Your entire body rocked against the bed as he repeated the action over and over. You moaned loud behind his palm, your eyes squeezing shut against the overwhelming sensation of all of him.

“Yeah, yeah. That's right. Take it.” He gritted out, gripping your thighs harder as he fucked into you faster. “Take my fucking cock.”

Your eyes rolled back at his vulgar words, a deep moan vibrating against his hand. You reached up and grabbed his wrist, tugging against his iron hold. He pulled his hand away and rested his weight back on two elbows, evenly distributing it in a way that allowed him to pull back further and thrust in faster.

You were unraveling fast. Your eyes rolled back but didn't fully close. Your jaw had dropped but no sound came out, you were barely able to breathe.

Kyle knew he was giving you too much. You were so much smaller than him, so much younger. Fuck, you were so much younger and you were still managing to take it. Something like pride flashed across his face as he fucked you faster.

“Shit, baby… yeah.” He panted, voice choppy from the force of his thrusts. “Just like that. So fucking good for me.”

You groaned deep at the praise and clenched around him, your pelvis angling a little higher, taking him deeper.

Fuck. You were so good it broke his heart. Now he felt like the one on the verge of tears.

“Good girl. God. Goddamnit.” He choked out. “My perfect fucking girl.”

You keened. He didn't bother covering your mouth. That was a clear sound of pleasure. A sound he knew Aiden heard with his matching enhanced hearing. Part of him reveled in it. Part of him hated that Caldwell even had the honor of hearing you like this.

It made him lose his last shred of restraint.

Kyle Crane had always fucked like an animal. Even before he was turned into one. He'd fuck girls until they couldn't walk from how hard they came. He'd last so long his cock felt raw, he could come over and over. You were the first girl he'd fucked since then. That should've scared him. He should've been worried- if not for him then for you.

Although, you were taking it so well. You were gasping in each breath, struggling and trembling, but you were still taking him, still holding onto his biceps and looking up at him with those big eyes, not a single ‘stop’ or ‘i can't’ leaving your lips.

It made his heart swell with something alarmingly similar to devotion.

Kyle leaned down, smashed his lips against your open mouth, and swallowed your cries when he pulled back and started fucking you the way his body screamed at him to; pulling back all the way, slamming back in so hard it knocked the breath from you and scooted your form up the mattress.

He didn't even try to talk. If there was one thing Kyle was good at, it was talking. Especially during sex. He knew girls loved men who would talk them through it. He knew you loved hearing him talk. You loved his voice.

Fucking you like this though, he couldn't talk you through it. The most he could give you were short, animalistic grunts, panting heavily as he jackhammered into you.

“Fuck!” You choked, your head rolling back as your back arched under him. “F-f-fuh-uh-uh-uh- fuck- I-”

Kyle growled, adjusting his grip on your thighs, pressing more of his weight onto you as he fucked you with fervor. “Do it.”

You whined, twisting your hips, trying to change the angle to somehow take less of him and get more friction on your clit at the same time. His pelvis slammed against it repeatedly, acting almost like some sort of brutal vibrator, and you froze in that position.

His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his fucking chest. He was sweating so much it was dripping down onto you from several different parts of him; his nose, his chin, his chest, covering you in more of him in every way possible.

“Breathe-” he tried talking you through it like he previously had done so well, but the feeling of you clenching around him like a vice, the image of you coming undone beneath him was all too much. “Breathe- fuck- I can't- just come, baby, come-”

Your jaw dropped and you let out this strained, almost primal groan, the sound coming from deep within your chest. It sounded like you could barely get it out, your orgasm so strong it reduced your noises to quiet, strangled vocalizations.

Kyle let out a similar groan, burying himself deep and grinding against you. He couldn't come, not yet, he needed just a little longer-

He held there as you pulsed and trembled, grinding deep, carrying you through your orgasm for the fourth time. You were beyond trembling. You were vibrating under him, choking on your own breathing, your teeth chattering so hard he could feel the vibrations.

“Shit.” He exhaled, trying to catch his breath in the moment of calm. “Sweetheart. Shit. You okay? Hey- look at me. You okay?”

You forced your eyes to focus on him and managed a jerky nod, the corners of your lips twitching up into a smile. “Uh-huh!” Your voice shook so bad it made him whine.

“You sure?” He loosened his grip on your thighs and lowered them, letting your legs fall limp on the mattress beside his knees.

You swallowed hard and hiccupped. “Nnmm-yeah.”

He cracked a crooked grin of endearment, shaking his head. “You gonna be okay if I keep going?” He didn't give you time to answer, he grabbed your ankle and lifted it- up over his head, turning your body with his onto your sides, careful to keep his cock buried inside as he moved you both.

The spooning position allowed you to go completely limp in front of him. He slipped his arm under your head, letting you use his bicep as a big pillow, and wrapped his other around your waist to pull you flush against his front.

He kissed your shoulder and swept your hair up and away from your sweaty skin, piling it on the pillow above his arm. He kissed the back of your neck and gave a lazy thrust, stirring his first load that had mixed with your own wetness inside you.

You made a content little moan and he sighed in relief.

Slow, gentle rolls of his hips, not just for your sake. He needed a moment to regain his composure and not have a fucking heart attack. He drew his cock a few inches out, then moved his hips in a mild, wave type motion, dragging his tip along your oversensitive walls.

“How's this?” He whispered, his breath warm over your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to the shell of it. “This better?”

You hummed, sounding almost sleepy, and nodded. Your hands settled on the forearm he had resting over your chest, holding onto him comfortably. “So good.”

He sighed, satisfied, and let his head rest on the pillow under him. He had his hand splayed over your heart, and he could feel your heart rate slowing from its original hummingbird-like pace. He kept up his easy rhythm, sliding his cock in and out like he had all the time in the world.

At some point his movements became less like thrusts and more like he was rocking you to sleep. He even closed his eyes to savor the gentle moment.

“God.” He murmured, kissing the back of your neck. “Been wanting you for so long. Just like this.”

You made a happy humming sound and tilted your head slightly, letting him nuzzle his cheek against yours as he subconsciously rubbed his scent over you. He didn't even know what he was doing. He just knew he wanted to, so he did.

“Kyle?”

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, looking down at the side of your face. “Yeah?”

The way you hesitated admittedly made him anxious. He rocked his hips a little deeper, like he could coax the question out of you instead of the more likely opposite effect.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, your voice quiet and breathy. There was a vulnerability in your tone, along with building heat at his movements. “Not just because I'm pretty?”

Kyle blinked down at you. His hips stilled for a few seconds before his cock throbbed impatiently, then resumed his lazy grinding. “Not just ‘cause you're pretty.” He murmured, kissing your temple. “Though fuck knows you are.”

He felt you push back against him at the compliment and he let out a heavy breath, pressing his hips forward tighter in response.

“I like you.” He continued. “More than I know what to do with.”

Kyle left out the part about him dreaming about your face for weeks after seeing it for the first time. He left out the part about how he saw your smile every time he closed his eyes. He left out how absolutely shallow he was and disgustingly obsessed he was with your beauty. You didn't need to know that. He liked more than just that now. You'd stopped being a pretty face a week after knowing you, and that was all that you needed to know.

His answer seemed to satiate you. You were smiling to yourself, your eyes closed again, your hips tilting to take him deeper.

He grunted in appreciation and gave a long, deep thrust, his hips slapping against your ass from the sudden force. You sucked in a breath of surprise, your fingers tightening around his forearm.

“Alright, sweetheart.” he breathed, his hand sliding down to grip your hip where he pulled you against him firmly. “Hold on to me.” He curled the arm he had under your neck, banding it over your chest so he could grab onto your shoulder facing up. His knee nudged your legs open and he slipped his thick thigh between them.

You tried, gripping onto the forearm over your collarbones, squeezing the leg between yours with your thighs. But when he started fucking you again, you quickly turned back into that dumb mess you were five minutes prior.

God, he could fuck you for hours. If you'd let him, he would. If you could take it, he would. But it had only been fifteen minutes and you were close to breaking. He wanted to make a joke about getting you some GSB so he could fuck you for longer, but you were squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. He reached lower and grabbed your thigh, yanking it up over his, opening you up deeper for him. “Fuck. I've got you.”

You whined, digging your nails deeper into his arm, incapable of speaking. He could feel you getting close again.

“I've got you, baby. Just take it for me.” He groaned, thrusting so hard your body jolted with each slap of his hips against your ass. “F-fuck. You're gonna make me come.” He panted in your ear, planting a breathy kiss to the skin behind it.

You groaned, tilting your head back until it hit his collarbones. “Kyle, oh, God- please don't-” you gasped, “fuck! Don't stop- don't stop please!”

He growled, his breathing coming in quicker and rougher at the sound of your voice like that. You either didn't notice how loud you were being, or you didn't care. Either way Kyle loved it. He loved how loud you were. Saying his name in that voice, in that sentence.

“D-don’t-” you choked on a moan, sounding downright pitiful, “-stop, Kyle, please- don't stop-”

“Sh-sh-sh,” he kissed your temple. “Not stopping. I'm here. Right here, baby. I've got you.” He tightened his grip around your chest and pushed, turning the two of you on the bed, hooking his leg between yours.

He pushed until you rolled onto your stomach. His body followed yours easily, his chest covering your back as he settled on top of you. He pushed your legs wide open and rolled his hips, driving his cock deeper inside you, darting in and out with a force that had you crying out into his pillow.

“That's it.” He gritted out behind your ear, hooking an arm under your waist to pull your hips up just enough. “Gonna keep giving you this cock until you can't take it anymore.”

You moaned into his pillow long and whiny, pushing your hips up against his pelvis in response. You mumbled something he couldn't hear and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling up until he could tilt your head to the side.

It was just more begging. More begging through the gasps. The sweetest sound Kyle had ever heard.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Listen to you. My good girl. Gonna come for me again?”

You had actual tears running down your cheeks. Kyle dipped his head low and pressed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your cheek, licking them off his lips. “I- fuck- trying-”

You were severely overstimulated. Your teeth were chattering again. The sight made his cock throb viciously inside you.

“Yeah?” He breathed, slamming his hips down harder. “Don't you wanna make me come, baby?”

You nodded vigorously.

“Then come for me one more time. One more.” He kissed the base of your jaw. “One more time. Then I'll give you everything. Fuuuck, baby. Anything you fucking want.”

Your gasp caught in your throat and your entire body tensed under him, back arching, ass pressing up into his lap, walls clenching around him so hard his vision went white. You came almost violently, your eyes squeezing shut, jaw dropping, toes curling under his shins.

“Oh, fuck-” Kyle choked. A guttural growl tore from his throat, nothing like his normal voice. His vision tunneled, and for a handful of terrifying, blissful seconds, he lost full control of himself.

His hips slammed down into you with erratic thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm like a wild animal. He pushed you down harder into the mattress with a bruising grip, his chest vibrating against your slick back.

“Fuck, baby- mine-” he gasped, practically drooling at the back of your neck. “So fucking- mine-”

You clenched around him even tighter at his words, letting out a broken moan that earned a particularly sharp thrust in return.

He came before you even finished. He yanked your hips up hard with one hand, the other snaking under your neck. He grabbed your throat and squeezed, holding you in place as he pounded ruthlessly into you.

“I'm- fuck-” he sank his teeth into the back of your neck as a shudder rippled through him. He panted around the mouthful of skin, his upper lip curling in a silent snarl, his eyes rolling back as his thrusts grew sloppy. He gasped, releasing your skin, and thrust forward one final time.

His jaw dropped as a groan ripped itself from his throat. “Fuck! Mine- this-” he ground his hips down hard as he came. “My pussy- mine. Mine. Mine.”

If he could have heard himself, he would've been disgusted at the animalistic words. But he couldn't, he was too far gone.

You heard them though. You whimpered, twisting under him as his tip pushed flush against your cervix, his length pulsing as he emptied himself inside you a second time. He came so much, you could almost feel it as it mixed with his first load. He kept grinding his hips in tight, rough circles, stirring his cum and pushing it deeper. He was in so deep it hurt, tip grinding mercilessly against your battered cervix. You choked on another whimper and clawed at the blankets under you, gripping on like Kyle would fuck you straight through the bed if you didn't.

Kyle came back to himself a few moments later. His jaw ached. His hips were so sore he could barely move them. Both thighs were cramped. He gave a weak thrust, pushing his cum deeper, forcing some out around his cock to trickle down your slit to your clit.

He released his hold on your hip to slide his hand under your body. His fingers found you, rough pads beelining for your clit. He smeared his load around it, fingers spreading around the bud, three flat fingertips rubbing it in like lotion. He didn't even know what the fuck he was doing. He just knew he wanted it on you, everywhere. He didn't want a drop spilled on the blanket.

He rocked his hips again as the final weak spurts left him, pooling with the rest against your cervix. He'd never come so much in his entire life. He'd never come so hard. He didn't even realize he had sunk his teeth into the back of your neck again until you gave a weak little whine.

He relaxed his jaw and pulled off, planting a sloppy kiss on the damp indents of his bite mark. He kissed down to the back of your shoulder, then slid his hand off of your throat. He brushed your hair from your sweat-slick face and pressed even more kisses to your jaw, up to your lips.

Kyle kissed the side of your mouth the best he could. You turned your head, giving him a better angle, and he slipped his tongue past your lips to lick into your mouth like he was trying to suck your teeth like candy.

He only parted when he had to breathe. He pulled back and pressed his forehead against the back of your neck, panting hot and heavy against the skin there. He planted another kiss to the purple bite mark.

Usually, Kyle would've felt guilty, seeing something like that. He bit you. He bit you so hard it was already bruised. On purpose. He lost control and hurt you. The ‘Hero of Harran’ would be horrified.

He didn't care. He liked it. It made his cock twitch inside you just from looking at it. That bruise was proof he'd been there. Proof no one could take away but time. And hopefully, you'd let him give you a fresh one before that could happen.

No one spoke for a while. Kyle stayed on top of you for another slow minute, hips still giving soft little rocks as he savored the tender aftershocks coursing through both of you.

Fuck, he had to piss.

He slowly eased off of you, using his hand between your legs to gently guide you on your side, your back still pressed against his sweaty chest, his cock still nestled deep inside you.

Kyle didn't know why, but he couldn't let himself pull out yet. The idea revolted him. He needed to stay inside you, just a little bit longer.

You were purring again. You tilted your head back, resting it against his shoulder as he slipped his arm under your head for you to use his bicep as a pillow again.

He kept his hand between your legs, fingers pressed against you. He didn't move them, he just wanted to touch you down there as long as you'd let him. He liked feeling your racing pulse throbbing in your clit under his fingertips. He did that to you.

He took a second to look at you.

You were so beautiful. Even now, makeup smeared and streaked, lips swollen and red from his mouth, cheeks bright pink. Your hair was a mess. He used his free hand to swipe it away from your face, his bicep flexing under your head before he laid his arm flat again.

He kissed the side of your neck. Softer now, not so heated and wet. Almost chaste. He kissed the corner of your jaw next. Then your tear-streaked cheek. Your temple.

He'd never seen anything prettier than you falling apart on his cock. Never seen anything prettier than you now.

He shifted, just trying to get more comfortable, and your hand wrapped around his forearm across your stomach so fast it almost startled him.

“Stay for another minute.” Your voice was small.

His heart swelled. He buried his face in your hair at the back of your neck and inhaled, slow and deep. “M'not goin’ anywhere.” He murmured, dragging your scent into his lungs. “I've got all the time in the world for you.”

You were glowing. You smiled, he didn't need to see it to know. He could smell it on you- that should've terrified him, the fact he could smell you smiling, but it didn't. He just sighed breathlessly in your hair and nuzzled his face deeper in it.

“Kyle?”

“Mhm?”

“I like you a lot.”

He groaned, low and quiet, and gave a gentle roll of his hips. You let out a broken sound and he repeated the action just to hear it again.

“Like you a lot too, sweetheart.” He breathed. “Thought I was past wanting someone this bad. Thought that part of me died in Harran.”

“Can I tell you something?”

He inhaled a deep, ragged breath, the sound catching in his throat. “Yeah?”

You shifted in front of him, thighs rubbing together absentmindedly, bumping his hand, causing his fingers to press a little more firmly against your clit. You shuddered hard, back arching again. You swallowed hard and tried to compose yourself again.

“You scare me. A lot. Not- not because of the whole… you know, grr thing.” You poorly imitated his Volatile growl, sounding more like a stray cat than anything threatening. “I'm scared because I really, really like you. And you're… you're- you're Kyle Crane. You're Superman. Heroes like you, you don't-”

Kyle pulled his hand out from between your legs to tilt your head up. He pushed himself up on his elbow, pulling his bicep out from under your head. He looked down at you with furrowed brows, eyes flicking over your face. Your eyes were watering.

“Hey- hey, sweetheart.” He crooned, cupping your cheek to keep you looking up at him. “I'm not some tragic fuckin’ hero that's gonna drop dead on you. You said it yourself. I'm Kyle fucking Crane. I've been trying to die for years and the world won't let me.”

You got this worried look on your face before he could finish and he almost laughed.

“I'm not going anywhere. ‘Specially now that I've got a reason to wanna stay on this godforsaken earth.”

He didn't realize how intense that was until your bottom lip wobbled. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed at himself for turning into a pathetic romantic. He leaned down and kissed you, slow and deep, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone, rocking his hips just as slow and deep, stirring his cum back up inside you with his slowly softening cock.

You melted and kissed him back, reaching up to caress his jaw with trembling fingers.

When you parted for air, you laughed, the sound light and breathless. “I've only known you a month.”

His lips twitched into a half-smile. He looked down at you fondly through half-lidded eyes, still stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I know.”

He leaned down and kissed you again, his hand sliding down your waist to squeeze your upper thigh. He lifted it slightly, parting your legs, and rocked into you again. He felt his cock twitch and throb inside you. He broke away from your lips to suck in a shaky breath. “Fffuck. Push me off you right now or I'm gonna keep you like this all fucking night.”

You leaned up and captured his mouth in another kiss. He groaned low in the back of his throat, letting himself drape halfway over you, his chest resting over your shoulder.

Before he could grow hard inside you again, you pulled back.

“Want you again.” He murmured, kissing down your jaw, rolling his hips. “Can I? You let me?”

You whimpered, momentarily melting before you gently pushed him with a hand on his shoulder. “I need a m-minute. And something to eat. Some water?”

Kyle nodded. “Yeah. Any little thing you want.”

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