An Ed Sheeran Fan Fiction Blog @sheeranfantasies - Tumblr Blog

Do u have a soph and ed masterlist

Yea there is an Ed and Sophie tab!

Wait! Woah!! Where's Very Bad Things gone?? What's happening? HELP!

It looks like there’s 7 parts on here. Check the archive in June and July.

Hi, thanks for replying. The fanfic I was referring to ('very bad things') was the one that had chapters posted on this blog- chapter 7 'this is where we begin' is listed below. Are you able to direct me to where you I might find it or contact the author? Thanks so much. I can't believe you aren't writing much any more- I loved the Ed and Sophie series :-))thanks again

Okay, yeah. I know what you’re talking about.

I can not connect you to the author because it was such a cool/random/weird thing. This person wrote these really long stories and submitted them to me as opposed to starting their own blog. And they were always anonymous and they never told me who they were. I figured if they were writing, then I’d publish their work for others to read and enjoy. But their identity is a mystery. I think there’s something neat about that, being anonymous and all. But it isn’t much help to what you right now.

Why can't I find Very Bad Things anymore? Edsheeransmutandeverything more has gone and I can't cope!! Yours is the best Ed smut by faaaar, and I need it back in my life! Pleeeease help! Xx

I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean by “Very Bad Things”. This blog is pretty much dead. I just get the messages still because I use my personal blog. And there was a girl submitting me stories so I posted them for her. And I don’t delete for old fans that wanna come back and read. But I don’t know what this story “Very Bad things” is.

Hey I'm a big fan of ed sheeran could you follow me!!!x

I cannot only because sheeranfantasies is a secondary blog love xx

This Is Where We Begin. (chapter 7)

(CHAPTER 6)

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It had been a long, long week. The previous weekend was spent primarily in bed, tangled up in messy sheets alongside Ed. You two left to grab dinner, once, downstairs in the hotel, but other than that, the suite had suited you both fine. Come Monday, he had recording sessions with his producer and you had work, a giant project with accompanying deadline looming over your head. You both were fairly exhausted by the end of each day, but you still managed to find your way back into each others arms by nightfall.

He’d stayed over at your place several times, as you had a cat that needed looking after and the studio space he’d rented out actually happened to be practically down the street from you and closer from your place instead of the hotel. But now it was the weekend again and thank god for that because not only are you shattered from such an arduous work week and very little sleep thanks to a certain redhead, but you actually miss him quite a bit, as the previous evening you two hadn’t been able to meet up and sleeping alone now, after ten straight days of being the little spoon, wasn’t something you enjoyed in the slightest. You’d intended to see him just like every other evening, but you were stuck at a screening till past midnight and once you’d realized how late you’d be in getting home, you’d told him that you guys might as well just call it and plan on seeing each other the following evening and kicking off the weekend in style. Ed had protested, even going so far as trying to convince you to let him come to the screening after he’d finished with the track he was working on. And normally, you’d have acquiesced immediately, because not only does the boy love his movies but also because sitting with him in a darkened room with hardly anyone else, watching a film, ranks high on your list of Things To Do With Ed Because They’ll Be Amazing.

However this particular screening was for a film that had been dumped on your company as part of a back-end package deal and was already dead in the water and, cinematically, the least enjoyable thing you’d seen in years and he didn’t need to suffer through that. So last night, you’d spent the first night alone in your bed and it had seemed far too big when only two days prior it was the perfect size.

You’re loathe to admit it, but you’d grabbed the pillow that Ed had been using (he naturally gravitated to the right side of the bed, whereas you adamantly preferred the left and it was just one more thing that serendipitously seemed to indicate you two were a perfect pair. At least, that’s what you told yourself in your weaker, more romantically-inclined moments), and held it close to you, inhaling the citrusy-slash-musky-boy scent that still smelled of him as you tried to drift off, only to awaken fitfully every hour or so until dawn’s streaky orange fingers started reaching up into the brightening morning sky. But now, here you are, outside the double doors that lead into the suite that you’ve come to know well. You smile as you shake your head at yourself and these crazy butterflies that are fluttering up a storm, low in your belly. Jesus. It had literally been less than forty eight hours since you saw him last, and here you are, all giddy and hopped up like a teen who’d just taken molly for the first time. You slide the keycard that Ed had given you into the slot just above the ornate silver door handle and watch as it turns from red to green with a small click. You push open the door and are met by the strains of Bon Iver floating in around you from the minuscule speakers placed unobtrusively up and into each corner of the rooms. You can hear the shower, the sound of the water splashing down onto the marble tiles below and then it shuts off with a small squeak. Ed should be out in a minute, so you make your way over to the wet bar and pour yourself a glass of the red that’s already been opened. You take a long sip of the crisp wine while leaning over to the stereo and clicking the back button till you hit number 3 and the lush, ethereal sounds of ‘Halocene’ fill the room. “Thought that was you,” Ed says, as he appears in the doorway to the bathroom, having heard the song change. A towel is slung low around his hips, his hair wet and sticking out in random directions. His pale skin is glowing a bit at the edges from the steamy backlight pouring out of the bathroom behind him. He walks over and comes to a stop before you, takes your glass and sips from it, then sets it down on the table to his right and takes your face into his hands. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Hi,” he murmurs, taking your mouth again, this time in a deeper, more leisurely kiss. Your entire body sighs as you feel his hands lightly grip the sides of your face, his thumbs rubbing now-familiar little half-strokes across the tops of your cheeks. You bring your hands up to cover his, as you feel his tongue glide gently into your mouth, like it belongs there. All his movements are more deliberate and tender than usual and you can tell he’s savoring the moment, savoring the way you taste, the way your body presses into his. It may have only been a day and half, but you can tell he missed you too. Eyes closed, you two just stand in that foyer, holding each other, kissing slowly, for what feels like hours. He tucks a lock of errant hair behind your ear and then places a kiss just in front of it and you are lightheaded, giddy and all at once you feel completely at home. It’s crazy. You are in way over your head here but you have missed him so much. Thirty eight hours apart and you were a pile of raw nerves, buzzing and spitting sparks, and now that you’re here beside him, you’re put back together again, nothing fraying, nothing disconnected. He presses a kiss to your forehead and you tilt your head to the side and let your lips graze the underside of his forearm, slowing to drop your own kiss onto the colorful skin there. He’s looking down at you, a grin spread across his face. “Got my girl back.” You grin back at him but roll your eyes good naturedly. Those words, the sweet declaration that you are his, makes your heart skip a small beat but you can’t resist giving him a hard time. “I was only gone for one night,” you tell him. As if you weren’t dying to be back here yourself. But your eyes are twinkling back at his and your smile lights up your face. You are transparent and it wouldn’t take a scientist to figure out that your bravado is completely false. “Yeah, I didn’t like that,” he replies, as his teeth grab your full bottom lip playfully. You let out a tiny moan, your hands finding their way to his half naked body, running your fingertips up and over his chest, tangling in the strawberry blond curls there. You drop them to his waist and reach around back and grab hold of his ass, pulling him in closer to you, eliciting a surprised chuckle from him. “Me either,” you reply, now biting at his lips playfully. Your hands have moved to the front of his waist and found the part of the towel he’s tucked in there and make quick work of it, letting it fall to the floor at his feet. Ed looks down at the towel, now in a puddle around his ankles and raises his eyebrows at you. “What?” You’re all innocence and wide eyes. “I’m merely helping you get ready. You can’t exactly wear a towel out, now can you?” Your hand finds his penis, still soft and damp from the shower, and you stroke it lightly. “Keep that up and we’ll never make it to the sodding party,” he growls through a smile. You lift your hands in the air in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll be good.” Ed laughs and grabs your hand, pulling you over to the walk in closet. He grabs two nearly identical blue and white plaid shirts and holds them both up in front of himself. “I can’t decide.” He’s actually serious. You look at him as if he’s mad. “The one on the left, obviously,” you say with a straight face. “Christ, can you imagine if you wore the one on the right? What a fucking disaster that’d be.” He swats you on the bottom as you turn to leave, and you throw him a kiss over your shoulder as you exit the closet. You walk onto the balcony and goosebumps chase each other up your arms as the night breeze swirls around you. You lean against the rail, drinking your wine and gazing out over the city lights beneath you. A few minutes later you hear Ed say behind you, “Did you bring a coat? It can get a bit cold over there.” You two are heading to the beach, a private enclave that is home to two of Ed’s good friends. An actress who you worked with once long ago, and her musician fiance, are having a get together tonight that Ed is very much looking forward to. She was one of his first friends when he came to the States and her fiancé is someone whom Ed had known for over a decade and is like a brother to him. “I have a wrap,” you reply. “It’s inside, near my bag.” You feel his hands run up and down your arms and you turn around to face him. You pull his head down for another kiss and when it’s over you almost tell him that you want to stay here, all night. That you don’t want to share him with anyone, not even the ocean. You want to take him to bed and never let him out. But it’s only a momentary flash of greediness and you shake the selfish cobwebs out of your head and tell him you’re excited to meet his friends and talk to new people. You really are; it sounds fun and you’ve been looking forward to it as well. Ed takes your hands in his and steps back to properly admire you and your ensemble. “You look hot,” he tells you and then lifts your hands in the air and twirls you so that you do a complete spin under his direction. “Thank you,” You lean in to kiss him after the spin is complete. “Not too under-dressed?” You have on distressed skinny jeans that are tight enough that you have to remind yourself to breathe, on top of ankle boots with a wedge that adds a few inches to your frame, and a deconstructed dark blue tank top with straps that start at your collarbone in front but dip down low, low in the back, leaving most of your back exposed to the cool night air. Your hair is piled on top of your head in a messy topknot. It’s sexy without being too revealing. In fact, from the front you look … well, not modest, exactly but there’s not even a hint of cleavage. However when seen from the back, the expanse of your skin, how much there is of it exposed, it’s the kind of top designed to make your date picture you without one on at all. “Not at all,” Ed takes a long drink of his wine and then sets it down on the railing. Pulling you into his arms once more, he leaves a trail of moist kisses upon your bare shoulders. “It’ll be chill. You’ll see. Especially since it’s right on the beach, everyone sort of dresses accordingly.” His mouth is now traveling across your neck and depositing more damp kisses just under your jawline, headed for your ear. It feels delicious and you take his head into your hands, your fingers raking through his hair. Then he turns you, so you’re facing out, and he pulls you back into him so your ass is flush against his hips, and then with a deft hand, he places his palm flat against your exposed back, pushing you down, so that you’re bent over, holding the railing, his hips moving into yours now in a rhythm that you’ve become accustomed to. He starts thrusting, just little bumps into your ass, one of his hands holding your hip, the other one still splayed possessively across your naked back. Then he reaches down, leans his body over yours and slides his hand around your neck and pulls you gently up again and when you’re almost straightened up in front of him, you feel his mouth on your skin, small kisses along your shoulder blades. Then he’s dragging his tongue up your spine as his hands find their way to your breasts in front and he’s trying to slip his fingers under the thin cotton to gain access, but the material won’t give, so he continues the sweet assault over the flimsy material, rubbing the pads of his thumbs in practiced little circles over each of your nipples. It isn’t long before they respond to his touch and begin to firm up. As soon as there are two small peaks, his thumbs and forefingers take hold of each sensitive nipple and twirl them between his fingertips, drawing them out further, molding them into larger, harder points, eliciting a low moan from you. This entire time, his mouth has been working your back over, biting at the soft parts near your waist as he sinks down and then back up again, letting his tongue trace an ancient alphabet up along your spine, alternating licking and sucking on the length in between your shoulder blades. Holy christ. Why has no one ever explained to you before that backs are an oft-neglected erogenous zone? This feels amazing and is so subtly erotic. “You keep that up and we’ll never make it…” you repeat his words back to him, your eyes falling closed, your shoulders pulling forward as his teeth scrape across your shoulder blade, followed closely by his tonge. A moan falls from your mouth. Part of you still likes the idea of not going to the party and hopes he’s too caught up in what he’s doing to take notice, but the other part reasons that there will be plenty of time for play later. He removes his mouth from your skin as you realize he’s opting for the latter but there’s only the briefest twinge of disappointment. One final, firm kiss to the back of your neck and then he turns you back toward him. “You’re right. Shame on me.” The mischievous twinkle is back in his eyes as he grabs your hand once more and leads you back into the suite, downing the last of the wine in his glass. “Let’s get going. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back here and I can have my way with you.” . Ed’s hand is placed squarely on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing back and forth, attentively. You two are talking with your host’s fiance and the two of them are competing over who had the harder time being understood in Tokyo and which one had eaten more weird delicacies when they were hosted by a promoter’s family in a rural village somewhere in Japan. They’re talking rapidly and giving each other random high fives and quick bro hugs, over what exactly you’re not entirely certain, but they’re both cracking you up on a regular basis. Both of their respective accents become deeper when in conversation with one another, especially with the help of all the wine you’d all consumed, and it’s both sexy and yet, ultimately a bit more confusing. (Not that you’re complaining as both accents are sexy as hell) You like this man. He’s soft spoken, with a warm and inviting demeanor and you’re so pleased with how Ed’s friends have taken to you so far. His fiancé, the other host, had actually vaguely remembered you and it surprised the heck out of you as it had been a handful of years since you’d worked with her on a little-seen show that had been canceled near straight away. Or perhaps she was just being polite, but either way it made you feel good.

After you guys made your way into the house, having handed over the bottle of wine you’d picked up along the way as a gift, she had linked arms with you, and before dragging you off into the kitchen to both help her and ply you with more wine, she’d turned to Ed and tossed out “Well done, my friend. I like this one!” There were maybe, thirty, forty people there and though you hadn’t talked to everyone, you had met most. Ed introduced you to each person that he knew and the entire evening had been lovely.The ocean lapping at the shore just feet away from the house provided a wonderful soundtrack to the evening and you couldn’t be happier. You especially like the way Ed’s hand rarely left you, either finding a home atop your thigh when you two were seated next to each other, or on your back at every other point. You have a generous buzz from the wine and the stars are out in full force above. All three of you are laughing when you notice someone draw up from behind and then all of a sudden there are a pair of hands covering Ed’s eyes. It takes you a minute to focus because it’s just so out of place. Here are long, slender fingers, dripping in silver rings, actually on Ed’s face, a makeshift blindfold of the way-too-intimate variety. There’s a small pit forming in your belly just at the sight of it. You follow the fingers to the slender wrists to the long, graceful arms that are attached to a tall, lithe, extremely beautiful blonde who is cooing into Ed’s ear, with a sing song lilt to her words, “Guess who…?” He seems a little thrown and you can see the tops of his blonde eyebrows furrow beneath this girl’s fingers. His hand disappears from your back to peel the fingers from his eyes, while saying “I’ve no idea…” After he successfully removes the hands and before he can turn fully to see to whom the hands belong, the girl launches herself at him, throwing her long arms around his neck and giddily exclaiming, “Ohmygodit'ssogoodtoseeyooooooouuuu!!” Ed’s eye’s widen and a half smile tugs at his lips as recognition draws over him. “Hey,” he says, haltingly. He untangles himself from the blonde’s embrace. He seems all at once both pleased to see her but also perplexed enough that it reads plain on his face. “Wow. What - um, what are you doing here?” “I came with Mike!” She’s pointing to a dark haired guy over in the corner talking with a few other people, a beer in his hand. “I’m supporting him on his west coast dates! Isn’t that mental?” She’s all long limbs and unbridled enthusiasm and exclamation marks, but mostly what she is is still touching Ed. Her hand is gripping his forearm in a strangely intimate way and you want to rip it off and forcibly step between them. Her smile is huge and her perfectly aligned teeth take up half her face, you swear. This girl is all smile. All perfect, blindingly white smile. She’s got matte, dark red lipstick covering her impossibly full lips and heavy kohl lining her dark brown eyes. Her hair is peroxide blonde, skims her ears and is tousled in that just-rolled-out-of-bed way. She’s fucking gorgeous and you hate her. She’s got on high-waisted leather shorts, presumably to showcase her ridiculously long, lithesome legs that are tucked into suede booties. There’s a red flannel tied haphazardly around her waist and a cropped white tank that ends a good five inches above the waistband of her shorts, highlighting a tiny waist. She’s a good six or seven inches taller than you and just a smidgen taller than Ed. She makes you feel small and insignificant and you don’t even want to hazard a guess as to how she makes Ed feel. Fuck. Add in nausea to that mix, now that you think about it. Shifting your eyes to him, you’re slightly mollified to find that he isn’t visibly drooling over her, but he is genuinely happy to see her, that much is evident. He seems a touch uncomfortable as well as confused, as if he can’t believe this person is here talking to him, and he’s doing that thing with his hands where he tugs at the band of his watch. You’ve noticed him do it when he’s nervous mostly and just seeing that little gesture sets off a bit of unease in you. That combined with the way he’s stammering slightly sends a shiver down your spine. He’s nervous, clearly, and she’s overly intimate with him, standing far too close, looking only at him, completely unconcerned with the fact that anyone else is standing here, besides the focus of her attention. Ed’s friend, who you’d both been talking to, leans over to give her a quick hug, saying it’s nice to see her again and then excuses himself politely as you hear his fiance calling his name from the front of the house. Ed remembers that you’re there and introduces you to her and her smile falters when she says your name. There’s a glint in her eye that you’re positive indicates deeply horrible and vicious things hiding inside the pretty facade. She tosses a brief nicety your way and then turns her attention back to what she’s really interested in. She’s twirling a section of her hair while grinning at Ed, exclaiming things that begin with “Ohmygod, do you remember when…” You are extremely conscious of the fact that Ed’s hand has not found it’s way back to your body. He's a very affectionate man and it’s only now do you feel the glaring void of physical contact with him in a way you never normally do. Truth be told, if you two are in the same room together, chances are, he’s touching you in one way or another. It often feels like your skin and his are opposite ends of a magnet. Flesh seeks flesh and it’s only now that you realize that you must have taken it for granted, for now that it’s gone, you are painfully aware of the lack of it. Though Ed is trying to include you in the conversation, his eyes darting between yours and hers when it’s his turn to talk, it hardly buoys you. In fact, you don’t even know what they’re talking about. You’ve been stood here for the past several minutes in a daze, the din of the party having receded, replaced by a ringing in your ears. You feel slightly dizzy and unsteady on your feet. This uneasy feeling burning in the pit of your belly isn’t something you’re used to and you just want to run away, go somewhere, anywhere but here. Mumbling an excuse about needing something from somewhere, you back away, seeing a puzzled look flash across Ed’s face before you turn to go and quickly stride through the great room and head out to the expansive balcony, stopping only briefly to fill up your wine glass. You’re standing at the railing, staring out at the dark sea that continues to dance up onto the sand, completely oblivious to the churning, terrible emotions that are threatening to pull you under. Ed’s friend, the one you’d been talking with when the succubus had descended, sidles up to you and leans against the railing. “You okay?” “That’s his ex-girlfriend,” you reply. It was meant to be a question, but instead it came out as a statement. You realize that you don’t need confirmation. These twisted, evil vines of jealousy climbing up from your heart and into your head are all the confirmation you need. “Yeah.” He sighs. He sounds remorseful, almost as if he was at fault. “I didn’t know she’d be here. I’d have warned him or told her not to turn up or something. Things didn’t exactly end amicably between them.” He tilts back the last of his beer to his mouth. “It’s fine,” you tell him, trying hard to add some levity to your words. “Um, not a big deal.” You wonder if he can tell that you’re lying. You’re trying your hardest to come off unconcerned. You want to be light, you want to not care. But the truth of the matter is that your blood feels carbonated in the worst way, something in your gut just not sitting right. “She’s opening up for a mutual friend of ours here, apparently…” His words sort of peter out. You can tell he’s trying to salvage the situation, seeing as your discomfort and jealousy are probably written all over your face. “Hey. It’s, you know… it’s fine, I mean,” you are trying to form reassuring, coherent sentences and it’s proving difficult. “I’m, uh, just going to go and um, clear my head.” You begin to turn away and then, thinking better of the hasty action, turn back and pull Ed’s friend in for a brief hug. He looks like he feels bad about the whole thing and it’s one hundred percent not his fault. His body feels solid against yours and you start to choke up, acutely aware that you want someone else’s reassuring arms around you. He squeezes you back, patting the top of your shoulder sweetly. You pull back, give him a tight half smile and look away quickly before he can catch the tears that are springing up in your eyes. You wander over to the other side of the deck and spy a little walkway leading down to the beach. Climbing down the few short stairs to the sand, you quickly unzip your boots and discard them at the last step and roll up your jeans. Walking down to the water, you stop just short of stepping into the waves that are rolling up to your toes. You feel like such a fool. What were you thinking? Who were you trying to kid, dating a guy like him? This is never going to work. If it’s not her, it’s going to be some other girl. It’s going to be a thousand other girls. There’s no way you’re going to make it out alive, make it out unscathed. How are you ever going to be enough for him when he has ex-girlfriends that look like THAT? Ex-girlfriends who look like that and clearly still want him. You can’t tell if he still wants her, too. Your gut says no, but your jealousy is riding front and center now and all you can see is the authentic pleasure that lit up his face when he turned and saw her. I mean, for fucks sake, just LOOK at her. Who wouldn’t want her?? And even if he doesn’t want her, he’s bound to want someone else because there will always be girls just dying to toss themselves into his lap. You remember everything you saw when you did all that research on him after you’d met that night. Girls go fucking nuts for him. Blogs upon blogs driven by the sole purpose of lusting after Ed Sheeran and that’s only the ones who were willing to commit to putting it in writing. How would you ever be enough when there will be so, so many other girls lining up to take your place, one more beautiful than the next, funnier than the next, more interesting. You guys have been living in a fucking bubble. You haven’t even stepped foot into reality. It’s been this glorious, beautiful, precious bubble but it’s all been delusion, where all you could see was each other. You’ve both had blinders on and setting up camp in your apartment and his hotel room is not real fucking life. As much as your heart is so heavily and thoroughly beating for this exquisite man, you know that you’re going to get clobbered. Your heart is not going to recover if you see this thing through. He is going to break it clean in half.

Oh, god. The realization of what you’re about to lose fucking tears you up inside. You sink down, your knees hitting the sand first, the rest of you slumping down behind. Your eyes fall closed and a sob comes barreling up through you and your bring your fist to your mouth to shield yourself from it, but it’s futile. Your heart shatters into a million pieces as the tears fall from your eyes. You feel barren inside, all hope and warmth and everything light falling away, leaving only darkness and a dull ache in it’s wake.

You’re not sure how long you sit there, letting the tears stream down your face, but now all you want to do is disappear. You just want to get out of here now, just go home and curl up into a little ball with blankets piled on and cry until it hurts a little less. You don’t want to have to explain yourself, not tonight, not now. He’ll never understand. You make your way back to the stairs, pause to lean against the wall and brush off your feet and then slip your ankle boots back on. You unroll your jeans and tug them down and brush your hands off on your back pockets. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and wipe your face with the backs of your hands and then head up the stairs. You walk across the deck towards the glass doors that lead inside, pulling them open and duck your head down as you enter the great room. You say a silent prayer up to the universe that no one stops you or even notices you.

You see Ed’s orange hair out of the corner of your eye and steal a glance his way. It’s pure instinct; where he is, your eyes want to go.

He’s walking out of the kitchen, heading towards the room you’re in and your heart skips a beat. Doubt covers you like a cloak. Uncertainty takes hold. Should you go to him? Talk to him? Maybe you shouldn’t just ghost out of here. Maybe if you just explained to him what you’re feeling… And then there she is, falling in step right behind him, a guitar in her hand, and you can hear her voice over the others and she cajoles, with a slight slur, “Ah, come on, babe! Sing with me.” You can almost literally hear the pout in her words. Ed keeps walking but turns his head to say something to her, something you can’t hear, and you watch as she tugs on his arm, stopping him. Then she steps closer, angling her head to the side, to lean in towards him, hear him better, maybe. Her hand reaches up to his hair and you watch her push a strand off to the side. You legitimately flinch; it feels as if you’ve been punched in the stomach. You know you should leave right now, just steal towards the door before he sees you, but something has got you rooted right there. Your feet won’t move. He moves her hand away and takes a few steps away from her, but she follows him anyway. He sits down, looks up at her with frustration and then away. His eyes are scanning the room, picking through people, looking for something or someone. You’re still in the adjacent dining room, slightly hidden behind a few people huddled together and laughing at something they’re watching on one of their phones. You watch as Ed’s eyes keep combing the room and then he moves to stand up, at which point, two things happen: he sees you, his eyes coming to rest on your face and then the blonde playfully pushes him back down and tries to climb atop him, straddle his lap. Your stomach fucking drops and tears spring to your eyes. You look away, your vision blurring. All you know is you want to get the fuck out of here. NOW. You stride to the door as fast as you can, your head dipped low, staring intently at the wood floor beneath you, but still you’re causing a bit of a commotion as people just aren’t getting out of your way fast enough. But you don’t care. If you can just get to the front door, you’ll be okay, you tell yourself. Just get to the door, get outside, you can do this. No one needs to see you cry. No one needs to see anything. Just get to the door. And then it’s there, the front door is within your reach and as you reach out to grasp the door knob, you feel your other hand being pulled backwards and you whip around and Ed is standing there, behind you, holding your hand, his brows knit together in worry. “What are you doing?” He asks you and you can hear fear in his voice. “Where are you going? Why… Why are you…” His voice falters. “I just want to go,” you say and thank god, your voice sounds strong. You do not stammer and you do not break, even though your eyes are brimming with tears. You walk further, through the doorway and out into the night. Ed is still holding onto your hand, following closely behind. You try to pull your hand back but he isn’t letting go. “Please let me go.” Your voice is drenched in sadness, defeat coloring your words. You can hear the tears that are threatening to spill over with every word you speak. You continue to stare at the ground, only allowing yourself to look at him, once fleetingly. “I’m so sorry,” he says, his face a mask of regret and worry and confusion. “I tried to find you. I went looking for you a few minutes after you left and I couldn’t find you. I looked everywhere.” He looks down at the ground, unsure of what to say next, and then back up at your face, his eyes pleading with you. “Ed, I just want to go,” you say, your voice breaking. It’s hard to look at him. You love his face so much. Those perfect pink lips with their little cupids bow and the tiny white scar on the bottom. Those endless blues that seem to see right through you, deep down into your soul. The tiny bump on the left side of his nose, how you didn’t even notice it at first and now you find it impossibly cute. And those freckles. You still, even now, just want to kiss every single one of those precious freckles. The tears in your eyes are spilling over now and you shift your gaze back down to the ground. “Please let me explain, you don’t understand–” “It doesn’t matter,” you say, cutting him off. You’re trembling a little, looking at the ground, trying keep some semblances of strong going. “I don’t want this anymore. Please, just let me go.” “No. NO.” He’s shaking his head, back and forth, as if just the gesture will make the words stick, as if they’ll change something. "I.. Okay, just let me take you back, then. Okay? Please let me come back with you.“ He pulls you to him and your face smushes into his chest and you can smell him, the cigarettes, the citrus, the wine, the boy smell, the everything that makes Ed smell like Ed. Your arms hang limply by your side as his encase you. You feel so very weak, both physically and emotionally. And you can’t say no. Not when you can smell him like this, not when his arms are wrapped tightly around you, like he’s never going to let go. You just stand there, letting him hold you, breathing him in, trying to commit this to memory. “Okay,” you say, after several minutes, the sound muffled as the word is spoken into his shirt. You feel him exhale, like he’d been holding his breath until that very moment. He removes a hand from you to retrieve his phone from his pocket. You can feel the muscles in his arm tense and untense as he uses that hand to text the driver. Neither of you moves or says anything. You just stand there, wrapped up in the arms you thought you’d never leave. The car pulls up two minutes later, twenty minutes later. You don’t know. He opens the back door for you and holds it open as you climb in. You shift back into self-preservation mode and scoot all the way over to the side furthest from him and press yourself as close to the door as you can. You fasten your seat belt as you hear Ed telling the driver the address of the hotel. You shut your eyes and squeeze them tight. Now that you are not physically connected to him, now that you are not touching him, you can think clearer and remind yourself that nothing has changed since you had those awful fucking realizations down on the beach. This will destroy you if you let it. There’s no other way this ends, but with you heartbroken. Ed slides into the backseat next to you and immediately reaches for you and instinctively, you pull up into yourself tighter, out of his reach. Jesus, this fucking hurts. This goes against every fucking instinct in your body, this goes against every fiber because every single piece of you wants to be held by him, wants to be soothed by him, touched by him. You open your eyes and you can see the cars in the other lanes opposite you whizzing by, the stuttered stripes of white and red, the lights that blur into each other. Ed says your name softly. “Please look at me,” he pleads. So you do. You take a deep breath, and you look at him and you see the hurt etched into his face, the worry and the pain shining in his eyes. “Please let me explain,” he begins. “I had no –” “Ed,” you cut him off again. “Can we please not talk right now?” You’re not trying to be dramatic. You just know yourself. You are aching for him to say something that will change everything. That will make it all go away. That will make everything perfect again. But that’s not what you need. What you need is to remember that none of this has been ground in reality. That even if that horrendous stick creature hadn’t descended upon him, sooner or later you’d have needed to face up to the real world. Because in the real world someone like Ed isn’t going to stay with someone like you. You’re just a normal girl and there’s no way he’ll ever be satisfied with that. Ed lets his head fall a little and there’s so much sadness in his eyes. You can tell he wants to say more, but he’s respecting your wishes. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. You let him. He holds it on the leather seat, the space in between the two of you, his thumb rubbing soft, sad little circles over your skin and you watch as he stares out his own window. . You look down as he slips the keycard into the slot and you silently marvel over how just hours earlier you’d stood here, blanketed in happiness, looking so forward to the evening ahead. He pushes the door open and holds it out in front of him, waiting for you to walk in first. You walk in and head for the coffee table and scoop your keys off of it. You deposit them into your purse and turn around. Ed is still standing near the door. He’s hasn’t moved. “Please don’t do this,” he says plaintively. His eyes are searching yours, his face pleading for you to listen to him. He looks so forlorn, so fucking sweet just standing there in his familiar blue and white plaid, arms hung desolately by his side. You glance to the side, swallow. You feel utterly defenseless against him. He takes your silence as a yes and presses on tentatively. “She’s my ex-girlfriend. I hadn’t seen her in a few years and things ended badly. I was really selfish and I left her …in not the greatest way. I was on the road and she was fed up with me always being gone so she wanted to come on tour, but I didn’t want her to. I wasn’t in love with her anymore. But I let it go on too long and then just snapped over something so little and inconsequential. For years, she’s hated me and I’ve always felt like a right prick.” He’s looking at the floor now, remembering. You watch as a look of resolve steals over his face. He starts again. “I’ve been having a bit of a sulk over it for far longer than I should because my ego was bruised. So when I saw her tonight, and all that anger was gone and she was happy to see me, I just felt so relieved. It made me happy that she was happy.” Your eyes narrow a little. “Okay, she was flirting with me. But I didn’t pick up on it at first. I’m sorry. I’m a dude. We’re not that perceptive about that kind of shit. Once I sorted it out, I just wanted to get away. It kind of clicked then that that’s why you left and I went to go find you. You weren’t anywhere in the house. J didn’t know where you were and I figured you’d be back round any minute. And then she tried to kiss me - she was wasted - and the next thing I see is you walking out the door.” He takes a deep breath and walks toward you. You take a half step back without even realizing it. He notices though, and it just makes him walk faster, more determinedly towards you and then he’s standing in front of you, holding both your hands. “I don’t know what you saw, but I pushed her off before anything happened. Nothing happened, I swear. Please believe me.” His eyes are boring into yours, his face, his tone, everything, is cloaked in sincerity. And you believe him. Because you trust him. But that isn’t the problem. “Ed, I believe you. That’s not… You didn’t actually do anything wrong,” you tell him. “We never made a commitment to each other.” “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says assuredly. “No, I get that. I’m… That’s not what this is about.” You walk slowly over to the couch. You need to sit down. He thinks this is about this one girl and this one evening. It is partially, but it’s not. “I just…I can’t do this. I can’t do this with you.” And on that your voice breaks and the tears spill from your eyes. Your shoulders heave forward and you feel the pain as it courses through you. Ed moves quickly to sit beside you and he folds you up into his arms and kisses your hair and after a few moments, he tilts your face towards him and wipes your tears with his thumbs. “Shhhh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” You shift back a little onto the couch, angle yourself away from him. You have to get this out and he’s not making this easy. “It wasn’t about her, I mean, not entirely. I could’ve done without seeing her all over you.” You take a deep breath and compose yourself the best you can. “I realized that if it’s not her, it’ll be someone else. Or a dozen someone elses.” “What are you talking about?” He sounds a little frustrated but he’s still pleading with you, speaking in soft dulcet tones, like a lullaby. "I told you, I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you.“ “Yeah, for now,” you say, with a wry laugh. It sounds hollow even to your ears. “Because we’ve been in this self imposed, perfect little bubble where everything seems amazing but this isn’t the real world. In the real world, you go away. In the real world, there are thousands of girls that are different and better, just waiting to get their hands on you. In the real world, you get bored with someone like me. I’m just a normal girl. And I can’t compete with everything in your world. ” “I do not go away in the real world. You don’t get to decide that for me –” “You say that now,” you interrupt. “And you are NOT just a normal girl,” he says emphatically, cutting you off before you can hurl another denial in. His eyes are blazing, his voice full of passion. “You are extraordinary. You are everything to me. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing before I fall asleep. I want you beside me, no matter where I am.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth to say something and then snaps it shut. “I’m not saying this right. I wish I could explain how I…” He exhales loudly and looks at you. He’s still shaking his head slightly, searching your face. He places one hand your jawline, his thumb resting lightly on your cheek, tracing invisible lines as he runs it back and forth. He looks into your eyes, pauses and then says softly, “I feel like I’m home. When I’m with you, it feels like home. You’re my soft place to land.” He leans in to kiss you, a gentle kiss and his lips linger there for a few moments. He pulls back and looks into your eyes again and says your name softly. “I love you,” he says gently, and then takes a deep breath. “I am so in love with you.” And with that something inside of you breaks. Your resolve crumbles and every feeling you have comes rushing straight up and collides and you almost feel faint. Your heart feels as if it may burst and your head is ringing and everything goes dark at the edges. You reach out for him, your hand sliding around his neck, taking root in the curls at his collar and pulling his face closer. It’s the first move you’ve made towards him since the party, since everything happened, and you can’t get to him fast enough. You press your lips to his quickly, only pulling back slightly to whisper, “I love you too. So much.” Both of your hands wrap themselves into his hair as you shift yourself towards him and pull him into you and cover his mouth with yours. You kiss him deeply and slowly, trying to pour every single ounce of you into this kiss and he responds by completely encircling you into his arms, pulling you close, lifting you up and onto his lap while never breaking the kiss.

His hands travel up your back, warm against your bare skin. Yours match his and they drag down his back, rubbing and splaying your fingers wide to touch as much of him as you can. You search for the hem of his shirt, find it and pull it up. You need to feel his skin. Your fingers trace every inch of his bare flesh as you can manage, hiking his shirt up, touching his pale skin. His hands mirror your movements and then he reaches in between you two, undoes a few of the buttons on his shirt and then reaches behind himself and yanks the shirt up and over his head, giving you exactly what you want: more of him, more of his skin. Your breathing picks up as your hands start to palm over his entire back, then around front, just feeling every inch of him, your fingertips trying to memorize every single bit, unhurriedly. Just roaming and savoring, like dawn will never break. You feel your tank top being pulled up and you take your mouth off his and reach down to the hem to help him and then lift your shirt up over your head, tossing it to the side. You haven’t got a bra on and Ed lets his gaze sweep down over your breasts, your belly then up your arms, shoulders and back to your face. Once again he takes it in his hands and your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his thumbs running those little horizontal lines that now feel like morse code for You. Are. Loved. “Look at me,” he whispers.

You obediently open your eyes and lock onto those Pacific blues, framed by such beautiful blond lashes. You want to kiss them, the delicate fan over each gorgeous eye, so you do.

You place your hands on the sides of his face, his beard tickling your palms, and lean forward slowly and kiss one eye after he closes them for you. You press one delicate kiss onto his velvet soft eyelid, letting your lower lip brush against the beautiful lashes there and then lean over to the other eye and repeat the motions. You can feel him sigh beneath you as he opens his eyes again and you two just sit there for a moment, each of you holding each other’s faces and then he presses a kiss onto your jawbone, and nuzzles the side of your face, his eyes closing against your skin, the lashes leaving a butterfly kiss on your cheek and he says softly into your ear, “So in love with you.” And with that, he grabs onto your hips, and stands up from the couch, carrying you against him, both of you clad only in jeans now, as he makes his way over to the bed. You wrap your legs tightly around his back, never letting your hands leave his face and you cover his mouth with yours again. Everything slows down, time loses its meaning and everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. All of his movements are unhurried and you match his rhythm. Slow kisses and slow tongues and long, languid strokes. He lays you gently down on the bed and kneels before you so he can unzip your boots and take them off your feet. Next he undoes the button and zipper on your jeans and hooks his fingers inside the waistband of both your jeans and thong and carefully pulls them all off of you as you lift your hips up to aid in the process. He stands and before he can climb on the bed, you sit up and undo the button on his jeans and then his zipper. Following his lead by gripping his underwear too and making sure those come off with his jeans, you tug them both down. Once they’re both around his ankles, he bends down to untie his shoes and kicks those off along with his clothes. He leans down and starts to move onto the bed above you, stopping to bend one of your legs so that one of your knees is in the air. He does the same with the other and then comes in between them and presses kisses on the inside of each knee. He makes his way slowly, slowly up your body, dropping unhurried kisses every few inches, one or two on the tops of your thighs and then a few more on the insides of your thighs, all the way up to the very center. Your breathing hitches and your hips strain almost involuntarily towards his mouth. He presses a few more on the very tops of each thigh, near your bikini line, and then spreads out and kisses the very furthest part of each hipbone. He spends some time there, kissing and then licking the ridge of one hipbone and then the other. Back and forth, he does it one more time, leaving your skin moist, cool under the air after his mouth leaves. He moves to the center and places a kiss just under your belly button and draws a straight line of kisses down below and your hips move up to greet his mouth. More soft kisses on top of your mound, the skin smooth and firm and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling. His head goes lower and he’s pressing light, feathery kisses along your slit now and you exhale heavily. His mouth is so gentle and he is worshiping you with it, leaving his mark all over your most sensitive areas, not prying or pushing, just loving you with his lips. He moves up again, dropping more soft kisses back up to your belly, spending a little extra time at the bottom where it’s a bit malleable. That little area of skin that you wish you could suck in all the time so it would always be perfectly flat, that’s the part that his mouth lingers on, lavishing affection and ardor on the area that you’ve wished away too many times to count. Somehow he knows. Then a trail up to your rib cage and kisses get dispersed by the twos in between each rib and now you can run your fingers through his soft, fluffy orange hair. You want to kiss him so badly but there’s not a damn thing that could make you stop him while he is raining kisses all over your body, making you feel so utterly cherished. His mouth lingers on your breasts now, and though he knows how sensitive they are, how quickly you could go from 0-60 in no seconds flat, his pace does not pick up. Instead he languishes on the underside of each breast, placing small kisses all around, then coming up and over forming imperfect circles. His lips part over one of your nipples and you can feel his hot breath and your back arches a little, pushing up closer to his mouth and he lets your nipple reach his lips and then drags them across it lightly, back and forth, letting the softness of his lips just shuffle over the now-hardened peak, once, twice. Then he takes just the stiff tip of that nipple into his mouth very lightly, swirls his tongue over it only once and then presses a long kiss onto it, another kiss just to the side and then he heads for the other nipple, repeating the motions. His mouth finds the middle of your chest and drops more kisses there and then works his way up to your neck where he spends several drawn out, glorious minutes pressing slow, wet, elongated kisses all over, completely covering every single millimeter. Every one of your nerve endings are at attention, thrumming just below the surface. His mouth against your pulse points are igniting slow burning fires deep down inside. You begin moving your hips slowly up into his as he concentrates on the sensitive, smooth skin there and you can feel his erection pressing into your thigh, though he still doesn’t switch out of first gear. He continues at a slow pace and draws up further and leaves little mini-kisses up and down each earlobe before returning once more to your mouth, finally, slowly sliding his tongue in against yours. You both stay like that for ages, just kissing, lips on lips, tongue against tongue, breathing into each others mouths, never wanting this to end. Ed pulls back slightly, propping himself up by his elbow off to your right side and gazes down at you tenderly. You can see everything in his eyes, your entire world, your future, your everything you’ve ever wanted. You say it this time, slowly, your eyes locked on his so that he can see. “I love you,” you tell him, thinking that there is nothing else, not anything but this moment, this man. You could spend days underneath him, weeks looking into these eyes. All you want is him. His lips curve into a small smile and he brings his mouth down onto yours again, while he reaches down between you two. Your legs part as soon as you understand what he’s doing and the next moment you can feel the head of his cock, bumping up into your slit, moving slowly up and down it, coaxing the wetness out. Ed’s tongue is still in your mouth and now you want his cock inside you, so much. You bring your hips up, beckoning it in, and his hand loosens his grip on it and you can feel the thick head slide inside of you, your slickness spreading and engulfing it. You reach for his head and hold on lightly, intertwining your fingers into his hair. The entire length of his cock slowly pushes all the way up inside you and you let out a little gasp. You pull your mouth back from his and bite down on your lip. There’s always that brief moment of pain from how thick he is but, like every other time, you welcome it. It’s part of him now. It’s part of how he enters you and there is nothing about it you don’t like. Slowly, he picks up a little speed, rocking his hips up and thrusting deep. He pulls back, almost all the way out, so, so slowly and then thrusts back in the same elongated fashion, drawing it out. He has never fucked you slowly. This is entirely different. This is not frenetic. This is not hands grabbing at hair, hip bones slamming into hip bones, bruising exquisitely. This isn’t frenzied, there is no force. This is slow and languorous and absolutely spilling over with tenderness. This is kisses and whispers and long, full strokes, filling you up inch by inch. This is sighs and softness. This is making love. Your mouth is open, pressed up against his cheek, your breathing coming in harder now. “Teddy,” you moan, low in his ear. “I…” “I love you,” he responds, all deep voice and throaty moans himself. “I love you. I love you.” Every ‘I love you’ is on a slow upward thrust, punctuating each one. Hearing those words, feeling him inside you at the same time. Oh god. You want him so badly, you love him so much. He is all you can feel, all you can see. There’s a low pressure building and you move his hips with your hands to the left and now your clit is bumping up against something, some part of him with every downward stroke and you’re lifting your hips even more to meet his and it’s right there, you’re getting almost enough friction and you start moving a little harder, reaching for more, just a little more, letting out soft little grunts, squeezing your eyes shut, concentrating and you hear him whisper, as he pulls back, “Can you..?” And you just nod your head quickly several times, letting out the breath you’re holding in, straining your hips up even more, if you can just get to where… Fuck… And then his hand is slipping down in between you and his fingers seek out your clit, find it and gently flick it back and forth just a little, just like that, oh fuck, that’s it, that’s the friction you need. Fuck. You look up into his eyes, feel him as his cock keeps sinking into you over and over, so slowly, so fucking exquisitely and his fingertip, what it’s doing to you and, and… “Come for me,” he implores, his breathing ragged. “Baby, please.” You’re trying. You’re almost there. You’re panting and staring into his eyes now. “Say it again,” you breathe. “I’m so in love with you.” Yes. Yes. Oh, god. You will never tire of…fuck. Right there. His fingers…they’re moving so expertly over your clit, it’s… “Open your eyes,” Ed commands gently. “Baby, look at me.” So you do, you lock onto his blues and you're climbing, climbing, your hands grasping his shoulders, holding on as you drop over the edge and you’re falling as the little flames lick at you from the inside, warmth rocking up into your body, gushing, spreading as pure pleasure surrounds your pelvis and streaks down through your legs, making you clench up. “Ohhhhhhhhh,” you cry out softly as his cock continues to fill you, sliding into your walls as they throb around it. “Yeah?” He asks, his voice hoarse. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m so close…” You reach for his face and say, “Come for me, now.” And his body locks up, his thrusts stuttering now, his whole body shaking with little tremors. You kiss his face, his cheek, then his temple, then his mouth, once, twice, three times. You feel his hips spasm once more and then his body becomes heavy on top of yours and his face is resting above your shoulder, his breathing labored. He pulls back up at looks at you. “That was…” “I know.” You’re both still breathing heavily, smiling at each other now. Ed rolls off you, lays on his back and reaches for you to pull you up to his side, wrapping one arm around your back, his fingers tracing little lines onto your skin. He leans over to give you a quick kiss and then just stares up at the ceiling. Your head is on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat faintly. Your hand automatically seeks the light curls on the top. This may be your favorite part of him. You two just lay there, holding each other, until he turns your body outward so he can press up behind you, turning you back into the little spoon. He leans down to grab the covers and then nestles his head closer to yours. “Please don’t ever get scared again,” he murmurs from behind. “There will never be anyone else, I promise. Okay?” “Okay. I won’t.” You squeeze his arms more tightly around you, then bring his hand up to your mouth and kiss his palm. “Love you,” he mumbles, half asleep. You hear his breath even out a few moments later. He begins to snore so quietly you almost can’t hear. You kiss his hand again and whisper into the darkness, “So in love with you.”

(as always, to be continued…)

Rough Like This. (part 6)

PART 5

You wake up the next morning and briefly forget where you are. Rapidly sifting through dream-drenched thoughts and memories, the previous night comes sliding back to you in all its delectable glory.

Right now you are in Ed Sheeran’s bed. Those are Ed’s multi-colored arms tucked around your middle, holding you snug against him. This is Ed’s scent you can smell, all bar soap, cigarettes and natural musky boy scent. Yum.

You open your eyes a little more, trying to adjust to seeing your surroundings bathed in swathes of morning sunlight streaming in from the massive windows that essentially make up one wall of the suite. You feel Ed stir behind you and one arm goes missing from your waist, as you hear a decidedly unhappy groan.

You shift your position so you’re half lying on your back now and looking at him. He’s got one arm flung over his eyes, covering them.

“I feel like a vampire,” he grumbles.

Damn, he looks cute with his orange hair all floppy messy, random tufts sticking up in varying directions with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

“Of the sparkly variety?” You inquire, a giggle threatening to break free. I mean, his name IS Edward, technically, and you like poking fun at him.

“What?” He’s giving you the side eye and looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind. “No. It’s all this sunlight!”

He grabs the covers and pulls them over his head, like a petulant toddler who thinks that hiding will render him invisible.

“I forgot to draw the blinds before we fell asleep last night,” a muffled, disembodied voice tells you.

“You know it won’t actually kill you, right?” You’re quite amused at this point. You’ve never seen someone get so grumpy about curtains and daylight.

Orange locks and those ocean blues pop up over the cover, but only that. He’s still hiding, the duvet drawn up over his nose. He looks so damn silly. Which, in turn, makes him so damn adorable.

“’S too bright, innit,” says the disembodied voice, sullenly. Then a sweet, pleading tone, “Make it go away, please?”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly at him and push his head back under the covers before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

Hmm. You don’t see strings or a stick or anything that you’d normally use to close the blinds. Ah, you bet they’re controlled via remote. Where did you last see that? Oh yeah, on the coffee table by the couch.

You stride over to retrieve it and when you turn back around you see that Ed’s head has decided to make a reappearance. His eyes are fixed on your body and he continues to watch as you start pressing any and all buttons that look like they might be the right one, because honestly? They all look the same.

After a few false starts, during which you manage to turn on a lamp and the Keurig, you finally coax the blinds into their descent. You turn back towards Ed, a triumphant grin on your face.

“Yes! Fanks,” he tells you with an exaggerated accent and grin to match. God, he’s so impossibly cute.

The room starts to slide into darkness and Ed mumbles contentedly, “Come back here.”

“Gimme a sec,” you say as you make a dash to the en suite bathroom. You must pee.

Flicking the light on, you step onto the cool marble floor and spy the oversize bathtub to your right. Hmmm. That certainly needs to be put to good use later.

You quickly pee and then peer at the counter. There’s a complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste sitting atop the tile near one of the sinks. Perfect.

You give your teeth a good brushing, spending a few minutes making sure you cover every millimeter, including your tongue. Then you rinse and spit, smiling at your reflection in the mirror to make sure your teeth are some shade of dazzling.

You do a quick once over and assess the damage: Hair looks great. The good thing about wearing your hair loose and wavy is that it always looks better on the second day, having achieved the authentic slept in look. Your eyes have a bit of smudgy black just atop your lashes but honestly, it looks kinda sexy. Since you only had a bit of makeup on, it doesn’t look clownish or messy; just a little smudge-y, and it’s sort of cute that way. It’s got a bit of a just-got-fucked kind of vibe. Fitting, right? Your skin is fine. A bit on the dull side, but generally okay. You look good. Not as hot as you did last night, but you’ll do.

Besides, there were plenty of Facetimes between you and Ed while he was away, during which you had on zero makeup and hair tied up in a messy bun. And he hadn’t run away screaming, so you figure you’re covered.

Setting down the toothbrush, you exit the bathroom and see that Ed is still lounging in bed just as you left him. His hair has calmed down a smidgen and you can tell he’s raked his fingers through it a couple times in an attempt to tame it, though there are still random tufts sprouting here and there.

Altogether he’s just so fucking cute, that giant grin on his face when he sees you reappear, the way his body is so pale against the dark grey linens, how he’s picking at a hangnail out of habit. It’s a lethal concoction, all these unrelated little bits that make up the whole of this man that you’re inextricably drawn to. If you’re honest, though, it could be thousands and thousands of things about him that add up to that whole because you have yet to find anything wrong with the boy. Though you’re well aware that there must be some unappealing bits to him, you just haven’t found them yet. He has captivated you like no other.

“Come back to bed with me,” he tells you, his words still sporting a sleep-drenched tone, his arms spread wide open to you, an invitation.

You climb back in bed and scoot over to Ed’s warm body. As you fold yourself up into his arms and lay your head atop his chest, you can hear his heart beating and it’s such a lovely sound. There is nowhere else you want to be than right here, encircled in this boy’s arms as he presses kisses against your hair, groggily.

You let your hand drift up his chest and tangle through the ginger hair on the top part. You let your fingertips rake through it gently, over and over, while listening to the thump-thump of his heartbeat. Pretty soon you can hear his breathing even out and you can tell he’s fallen back asleep. Both of his arms are around you, holding you, and one of them goes a bit slack, taken over by slumber.

You snuggle in, press a soft kiss to his chest and inhale deeply. You close your eyes and listen to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Your mind drifts back to last night and soon, sleep overcomes you.

•

You’re woken by featherweight touches of something soft brushing against your temple. It takes a few moments to register that the touches are actually lips belonging to your favorite redhead beside you, as you feel his mouth travel down to your neck, just behind your ear.

“Morning,” he says quietly.

He pulls you further into him and you realize you’ve somehow gone back to being the little spoon after falling asleep the second time. Your back is up against his pale chest and one tattooed arm is wound around you, holding your waist, fingers lightly rubbing the skin just to the side of your belly. Your ass is pushed up against the soft warmth of his crotch and he’s intertwined his left leg between yours.

“D'you sleep well?” You ask, as his lips find your neck and continue pressing persistent kisses onto your skin.

The kisses start a little stirring in your belly as he finds the spot under your jaw that is most sensitive. It’s like he’s already mapped out your body’s precise hypersensitive points, the places that make your knees go weak in 0 to 5.

“Best I’ve had in ages,” he murmurs in between kisses, letting his tongue slip out here and there, leaving warm, wet trails on your skin. “You?”

“Mmmmm,” you breathe out, part moan, part word, savoring the way his tongue feels on your neck.

As usual, your hips start moving before you’ve even thought to grant permission. They start grinding out little circles back into Ed’s groin, all soft flesh just a moment ago and now firming up under the ministrations of your hips.

His left hand is grasping onto the top of your thigh now as his hips start up their own rhythm, in synch with yours. You tilt your head back and to the side and wait till his mouth comes down on yours and quickly slide your tongue in against his own.

Oh, god, his mouth. He uses exactly the right pressure with his lips, always insistent, always wanting, as if he can’t ever get enough of your lips against his. His mouth is always, always eager for yours.

His tongue acquiesces as yours explores his mouth hungrily, slip-sliding against his, licking his teeth briefly even, as there is absolutely no part of Ed that you don’t want to lick - literally not one square inch of him that you don’t want to explore with your tongue. Oh, fuck. Just thinking about it starts the lust coursing through your bloodstream, your desire having shot through the roof in no seconds flat.

You push your hips back into his further, harder, leaving no question as to what you want. You reach your hand back behind you quickly and locate his cock, now standing stiff and straight in your palm.

You spread your legs and arch your back so your ass lines up right with his cock, as your hand guides it in between your legs and you rub the tip right against your opening, which is already wet. You’re still in spooning position and feeling his body curve tightly around your own is an aphrodisiac in itself, especially when he’s about to enter you.

You can hear Ed groan behind you as the head of his cock dusts up and down your slit, grazing in silently, feeling the slickness spread. He grabs firmly onto your hips as he moves his closer to yours, angling his cock further down and with one long, continuous thrust the head pushes in past your folds and all of a sudden you are filled up with his entire cock buried deep in you.

You inhale loudly, raggedly, as the sheer thrill of it jolts through you. Jesus, this boy. You’ve never gone from asleep to this turned on in such a brief time. What has it been? A minute? Maybe? All that you want is him, his hands, his body, his mouth, his cock, which is beginning to fuck you right now so exquisitely.

It’s too slow, you need more, more, more.

He’s still easing his now slick cock in and out of you gradually, slowly. He is stretching you and there’s a slight sting of pain each time he pushes back in but you welcome it. Every little bit of pain his body causes sends your adrenaline shooting sky high and makes you want to grip him and beg for more. Everything with this man is pleasurable, even pain. And you can’t get enough.

“Ed, more. Faster…” you moan, a plaintive plea. You’re grasping at his legs, pulling one of them over and under yours further, clutching at his fuzzy thigh, unable to feel enough of him.

Ed starts to thrust faster, his cock sliding into the tight little space that’s formed between your legs pressed together with you laying on your side and then straight inside you. You’re already tight, your walls gripping his thick cock as it slides into you, and now there’s that little bit of your legs, pressed firmly together that he can feel as he pulls back, almost pulling all the way out of you. He goes a bit slower when his cock is exiting you, to feel the sweet friction of such an enclosed space and then he pushes hard with his hips on the descent, the ridge of the head bumping up and in, then hitting your back wall, sending a firm, swift, dull sort of thump up into you.

“Love it when you tell me what you want,” he grunts.

He reaches his hand around to cup your breasts, one, then the other, hastily grabbing at both as they lie pressed together. His fingers tug at your firm nipples, one after the other. His hips are moving more quickly and he’s breathing hard, his teeth grazing your shoulder lightly.

Everything seems sped up and nothing seems to be enough. You want to feel him, you want every part of you to be filled with him, touched by him, bitten, pulled, pushed, thrust into. Oh, fuck. More, more.

“Harder. Teddy, be rough with me…” you implore.

He slips a hand into your hair then and fists a handful of it and then pulls back, hard. A long, slow moan escapes you. Fuck, fuck. Yes.

He’s holding your head tilted back and he lowers his head to nip, quickly but roughly, at your neck, then your lips, harder than he ever has before but this only turns you on more. His cock is sliding into you with controlled speed now and he’s giving an extra hard thrust at the end, pushing into that far back wall, hard. It’s a dull ache when he hits it but it hurts so good. Still, you want more.

“Rougher…” It’s not even a whimper this time. It’s whimpering’s not-so-distant cousin, begging.

Your plea is almost guttural. Everything feels primal, animalistic. You’ve never wanted it quite like this before. You like it hard, but there isn’t a hard enough right now. There simply isn’t enough of him and you feel like you’re going to fucking burst if you can’t have more, have everything.

He responds to your plea by twisting his fistful of your hair and pulling your head back to an almost uncomfortable angle. He’s careful to not actually properly hurt you. He instinctively knows that you want a bit of pain, but not anything actually damaging.

With your neck exposed like this, he lowers his mouth to your unprotected flesh and begins sucking at it, biting down in the most sensitive area he can find, right where your pulse is loudest, sinking his teeth in harder this time. He’s so turned on that he’s doing all this through moans of his own. Gone is the boy who had semi-control of his utterances last night. In his place is your hedonistic equivalent matching your intensity, giving you everything you ask for. Biting down now on your lips, thrusting his tongue forcefully into your mouth, consuming you.

His hand is gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, the other one still fisting your hair, tugging back. You’re sure he’s going to leave five little bruise marks on your hip and you fucking love it. He’s grasping as hard as he can to gain hold so he can slam into you now from behind. He is slamming his cock into you over and over again, with a ferocity that takes your breath away, his hips crashing into your ass relentlessly, driving it straight into you and you’re an utter mess of slickness and want. The hard slaps are echoing through the room and you’ve never wanted to be fucked so badly in all your life. He’s awakened some deep primal fucking urge in you and you feel completely out of control, just a puddle of ache and want.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes out, hardly able to get the words out. “Oh, fuck.”

You don’t need to look at his face to know he’s feeling this as intensely as you are. There is surprise underscoring his curses. There is urgency you’ve not heard before. He sounds both frantic and yet, completely in control. His moans are erratic and feverish and they sound dead sexy. The sound of his desire is sending your arousal through the roof.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, removing his hand from you to grasp yours and maneuver it down between your legs in front. Your fingers seek your clit feverishly, two fingertips press firmly down, starting to rub messy circles onto your skin. Little shocks of pleasure start to ricochet through you, bouncing off of every nerve ending.

His teeth affix to your neck at the same vulnerable point again and he sucks and bites down hard again, pain and pleasure all mixed up together, fireworks under your skin. His mouth moves up to your earlobe and attaches forcibly and you can hear his grunts and moans so clearly now, his mouth right at your ear.

Your fingers work your clit more arduously now, rubbing back and forth, as bursts of buzzing gratification radiate up through your pelvis, the sensation of being utterly filled up with Ed’s perfect cock so overwhelming, sliding into and beyond your G spot over and over, hitting that back wall, flashes of subtle pain every time. All of it builds and builds inside of you heading straight to climax, and little earthquakes start to shake your entire body, strong shudders coursing out through you, the epicenter of your clit thrumming strongly against your own fingers.

“Ohhhh, fuck…” you manage to get out as your body strums with delight and caves in on you.

You’re calling out, riding through the spasms claiming your body, waves of warmth rolling though your skin, leaving a sensitive mess in its wake. You swear you can see fuzzy bright spots in front of you as your eyes stay slammed shut.

You practically come to again, feeling Ed still rocking you, his cock driving further and further in you, but now with short stuttering thrusts. You can tell he’s close and you start shoving your hips and ass back into him, hard, so fucking hard, on his downward thrusts so your body meets his with even harder, slicker slaps.

“Fuck me, Teddy,” you growl at him. “Come inside me. I wanna feel you. Come on, fuck me harder…”

Impossibly, his speed picks up and it feels like an exquisite fucking jackhammer. You reach a hand up and grab onto his hair at the back of his neck and tug it, still curving your back into impossible angles so you’re shoving your ass at him, bumping it back into him so he can thrust deeper, feel it tighter. Christ, he feels fucking amazing.

Then you hear low pitched, breathy ‘ah’s coming from somewhere in his throat, his fingers digging harder into your skin as he comes inside of you, his body shuddering against yours. You slow your rhythm and loosen your grip on his hair and bring your lips to his in a soft kiss. His body trembles against yours, short bursts, small spasms.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out when he can finally speak. He’s sweaty and breathing hard behind you, his partially soft cock slipping out of you now.

You turn slightly to face him and he pulls you the rest of the way, laying his forehead on your shoulder. He’s still panting, almost unable to catch his breath.

“I know, right?” You reply hazily, dropping a kiss onto his damp orange locks. Your hand goes up to his forehead and brushes his hair back.

He raises his head and looks up at you, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. He’s got a mischievous look in his eyes.

“What?!” A half laugh, half embarrassed squeak escapes you. “What’s that look for?”

He just shakes his head slowly, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t know what got into you, but I like it.”

You give him an incredulous look and say with a mock indignant tone, “Like that was all me!”

“Whatever it was, I want more of it.”

He kisses you square on the mouth once, twice. He’s still smiling and its infectious. He’s rolled over on top of you and he holds your body down with his, a light sheen of sweat covers both your skin. He’s propped himself up on his elbows and is caressing your face with his thumbs now, just looking into your eyes. My god, you’re crazy about this boy.

“Cor,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Well, that’s certainly the way to wake up.”

“Better than waking up a vampire?” You giggle at him.

“Yes,” he replies petulantly. “It was wicked bright in here, not even half past 6!”

You crack up. He looks so innocent and so full of conviction, as if a room full of sunlight in the morning is the worst crime one could inflict on humanity.

He bends his head down to press a kiss to your collarbone and then recoils, his body jumping back. He quickly turns your head to him, exposing your neck and brushing back your hair.

“Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, a scared edge to his tone. “I really hurt you.”

You’re guessing there’s a significant mark on your neck, the place he was biting you.

“Stop,” you say softly, looking up at him tenderly. “I wanted you to.”

He presses a featherweight kiss onto your neck in the bruised spot. His brows are knit together in concern when he looks back at you. His face is a mask of worry.

“It doesn’t hurt now. I promise,” you reassure him soothingly. “And it was so fucking hot…”

You shift your hips up into his when you say the last sentence and grab his mouth in a kiss, licking his lips after you break the kiss.

“Yeah, I guess it was…” He’s smiling again, the lascivious tone edging its way back into his voice. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss his cheek and giggle.

There. That’s the Ed you adore. Although his concern is fucking adorable and just… well, the way he cares for you, it just fills you up in an entirely different way and you want to catch it, bottle it and store it in your heart. And you definitely don’t want him mad at himself for hurting you when you asked for it.

He lifts off of you, exclaiming how thirsty he is. He drags the covers with him as he gets up and the rush of cool air over your skin feels amazing. You turn over on your front and cross your arms, laying your head on them and watch him come back towards the bed sideways, his dick now mostly soft and swinging gently as he strides toward you. You even find that cute, too.

He slinks back up on the bed sidling up to you, but coming in at an angle so you two look like a slightly uneven capital T and he lets one hand glide over your bare ass, his fingers dragging lightly over it. You shiver It feels good.

He lowers his mouth and playfully bites one supple cheek and then draws his tongue over where his teeth were.

“So soft,” he whispers, while dropping a couple more kisses on the other cheek. He’s nibbling around your entire ass now, cradling it in his hands like it’s a sweet fruit.

“I want this,” he says, rubbing both hands now all over your ass, kneading it.

You’ve pulled a pillow down and have got your face buried in it, enjoying what his hands are doing to your butt. “Hmm? Want what?”

“This,” he says, plainly, and gives your ass a small, light smack. Then he goes back to kneading it nimbly, while dropping quick kisses where his hands just were. He’s into it, lost in some sort of trance where all he can focus on is your bottom.

And then it hits you. He wants… OH. Wow.

You jerk your head up and look at him, wide eyed.

“You want…my ass?” You say, your voice colored with curiosity, disbelief and yes, arousal.

“I want your ass,” he repeats, using an American accent to pronounce the last word.

“Have you…? Have you done that before?” You are a little taken aback. Partially by his request, partially that he just came right out and said it.

“Yeah. Once or twice,” he replies easily, casually almost. “Have you?”

You stick your face back into the pillow, feeling a little shy. “No,” you mumble quietly into the soft cotton.

He climbs up the bed and sticks his head down near yours, up real close, like a cat trying to burrow their way in affectionately. He wraps half his body around yours.

“What’s that?” He’s teasing you now. “I didn’t quite catch what you said…” He’s nibbling at your ear, pushing his little invasive nose into your cheek, playing with you affectionately.

You turn your head towards him. “No. I have not.” You say it loud and enunciate each word, a smirk tugging at your lips. “But…” Your voice trails off as you take his lips in a sweet kiss to postpone what you’re about to say.

“But…?” He presses.

“But I’ve always wanted to.”

“Really?!”

With this he sits straight up like an excited little boy and then pulls you atop him. You’re sitting on his lap now with your arms wrapped around his neck, your legs wrapped around his back. His hands are cupping your ass and he’s got a side-splitting smile on his face.

Your face feels hot and you hang your head a little bit, shyness seizing you again. Your long wavy locks hang down too, obscuring your face and Ed tenderly tucks each side behind your ears, then tilts your face up to look at him with a finger under your chin.

“Why are you blushing?” He kisses you, his hands holding your face.

“Um, I don’t know,” you laugh, surprised by your own shyness. “Guess I just didn’t expect to be discussing this.”

“So you want to, huh?” He’s holding you by the hips now, slowly rocking them back and forth, while he kisses your neck.

“Mmhmm,” you whisper against his hair. Oh, fuck. This boy. His mouth on your skin does things to you like crazy. You tilt your head back to give him more access. “I’ve just…” Your breath hitches as he bites down lightly just under your jaw. “I’ve been afraid of it hurting.”

His mouth is traveling to your collarbone and licking it as he passes by and heads down to your breasts. He takes his hands off your hips but you keep rocking them against his lap as his hands come up to cup both breasts gently.

His head dips down to take a soft, silky pink nipple into his mouth. He sucks it into his mouth smoothly and you moan involuntarily. After a few moments he lets it drop from his lips and heads to the other, but before he gets there he presses a kiss into the center of your chest and says, “It will hardly hurt at all. I promise.”

His lips find your other nipple and take that one into his waiting mouth. He just suckles gently as your fingers card through his hair and hold onto his head. You are constantly astonished at how staggeringly good that feels; you swear there is a wire connected directly between your nipples and clit. They’re so sensitive and you can feel it shooting down between your legs, wonderstruck by the tremors inside you.

“Okay,” you breathe out.

His lips pause, loosen their grip on your now stiff nipple, and he looks up into your eyes smiling and asks softly, “Really? You’ll let me fuck your arse?”

And the elevator sinks, right down inside you, just drops right out and sends your tummy into a mass of swirling butterflies. Hearing those words come out of this boys perfect pink mouth sends you over the edge. You’d let him do anything he wanted to you as long as he said what it was first, in that sexy English accent of his, let the words tumble out of his perfect, innocent-looking, Cupid’s bow lips.

You sigh deeply, contentedly, and take his mouth in a kiss. His tongue tentatively pushes past your lips and begins to probe softly, gaining traction and strays further in. His arms are all the way around you, holding your body as close to his as possible, while you sit atop him. You hold his head in your hands, rubbing your thumbs on the tops of his cheeks.

“Yes,” you tell him, relishing in his eagerness to try it with you, positively turned on by the naughtiness of it, the forbidden nature of it. Jesus. To feel his cock sliding in your most private part, a place where no one has ever been… You exhale. Here come the somersaults in your belly again.

With that one word, that granting of permission, Ed begins kissing you so thoroughly, like he wants to memorize your mouth and he’s got all the time in the world. His hands travel the length of your body and back down again, as you arch back into them, wanting to surrender yourself over.

He breaks the kiss, pulls you even closer, your chest flush against his as he presses his lips to your neck and murmurs, “I told you I wanted to do very bad things to you…”

(as always, to be continued...)

Finally. (part 5)

PART FOUR

“Your turn now,” Ed tells you, looking down into your eyes, the sly beginnings of a smile turning his mouth up at the corners.

He’s holding your face in his hands, his thumbs rubbing small motions across the tops of your cheeks. He leans in to kiss you again, placing small little pecks at the sides of your mouth and then brushes his lips against yours in a sweet, almost reverse Eskimo kiss. You sigh and little fissures of happiness flow up your insides. Oh, this boy.

His lips press into yours a bit harder now and open yours gently. As his tongue slides against yours softly, his thumbs keep tracing invisible horizontal lines across your cheekbones. You can feel goosebumps setting up camp along your arms and you want to melt into him, into this kiss, into the way in which his velvety, slow movements are underscored with tenderness and care. This is the sweet, loving side of Ed that makes you tremble and want to run headlong into his steady, sure arms, never to leave.

This kiss lasts what seems like hours and you both get lost in it, in the simple pleasures of lips and tongues and hands in hair. You reach up on your tiptoes to pull his face closer into yours wanting as much of him as possible and he responds by letting his hands drift down to your ass and grabbing hold firmly, pulling you into him. There is no air, no space between your two bodies, his pale flesh warm against yours. You reach a leg up to snake around his, wanting every single inch of your skin to be in contact with his skin. He quickly reaches down and grabs hold of your thigh to pull you in closer. He hasn’t got any clothes on and you can feel his cock up against you. It’s only partially hard now, having just reached orgasm in your mouth moments before.

His fingers dig deeper into the supple flesh on the underside of your thigh, still holding it wrapped around him, His other hand unbuttons the checked shirt of his that you’ve got on. He slips the button through the hole and then lets go of your leg to sweep the shirt from off your shoulders and it falls weightlessly to the ground at your feet. Both of his hands are roaming freely over your naked body now, just dancing over your creamy flesh, working up a rhythm, tracing patterns of desire into the skin that is aching for his touch.

He breaks the kiss reluctantly, then nods his head towards the bed and says, “Come on.”

You stride towards the bedroom as he follows behind you, having paused to grab both your drinks and you swing your hips a bit more than usual, knowing his eyes are trained on your ass, well aware that your body beguiles him.

When you arrive at the foot of the bed, you stop and wait without turning around. You part your legs slightly and run your fingers through your hair, letting your head tilt to the right slowly, seductively, knowing how tempting you must look to the red-haired man drawing up behind you. The air in this room is humming with electricity and want.

A moment later, you feel his lean body sidle up just behind you. He is without clothes as well and at every point that skin meet skin, it feels carbonated. Little bubbles running beneath your flesh trying to escape. You feel alive, heart near beating out of your chest, here in this partially darkened room, save for a lamp and the moonlight cascading in from the floor to ceiling windows.

You lean further back into him and he slides his right arm around the top of your chest and curls his fingers onto the left side of your neck, with his thumb resting just above your jawbone on the soft part of your lower cheek. His other arm slides over the top of your legs and lets his fingers rest on the uppermost part of the inside of your thigh. Those fingers start to stroke you gently, moving closer and closer to the center, drawing out the heat that you’re certain is radiating off of you now.

The thumb resting on your cheek inches it’s way over to your mouth and drags across your full lower lip, side to side, slowly and sensuously. You tuck your chin in just a notch and take the tip of his thumb between your teeth and let your tongue lazily glide over it.

All of the frenetic energy and hopped up lust of just ten minutes ago, while Ed was fucking your mouth at your command, has dissipated. It’s all languorous moves and soft sensuality now. You can sense that he wants to take his time on you and work you up. You could see that he was a little embarrassed that he let himself surrender to his own lust and came before he got you off. You know he wants to make you lose your mind but it’s more than that. It a point of pride, perhaps. He doesn’t want to be the selfish one here.

His hand is now pulling your head over to the right and cradling it onto his colorful arm. You can feel the fuzzy hair against your cheek, tickling.

He lowers his mouth down to your neck, now pulled taught and drags his tongue over all the sensitive nerve endings there. When his mouth is nearly up to your ear, he bites down, eliciting a small gasp from you. You never tire of feeling his teeth on your skin. This boy, he is skilled. It’s as if he anticipates exactly what you want before you even know you want it.

His lips move up to your ear and begin to bite over the lobe, alternating between small nips and licks. His other hand is cupping your bare mound, fingers moving up and down, lightly dragging over your slit, slipping in between the wetness, grazing your clit and then back out again. He is teasing you slowly, letting the tension build.

He turns you to face him, and lowers his lips onto yours for a small kiss and tells you, “I’d like you on that bed now, please.”

You give him a coy half-smile “Yes, sir.”

You obligingly sit back onto the bed and then scoot yourself up it, nearing the headboard. Ed lowers himself onto the bed as well and follows you on all fours, a cat about to pounce. You’re propped up, arms on the bed behind you as he slides in between your legs and up your body to reach your mouth, taking it in his for a kiss. He uses his body to lower yours into the mattress and he’s on top of you now, his body pressing down. The weight of him on you, just that by itself, it turns you on like mad. It’s enough so that it feels like you’re pinned down beneath him, exactly where he wants you and you’re not going to be let go, ever.

Your legs automatically go up and around him, your hips starting up their intuitive circles, grinding into him while your tongue slides into his mouth more urgently this time. His erection has grown and you’re pressing into it, trying to find sweet friction. You’ve been anticipating this, dreaming of how you’d finally fit together once he was on top of you, two warm bodies igniting each other.

He breaks the kiss and moves down to press little nibbles onto your collarbone from one side to the other, going back over again with his tongue. Your breath catches. They’re small movements but so sensual. You can feel the moisture gathering between your legs.

Moving down from there, his lips find one of your nipples and takes it into his mouth, sucking it gently, drawing it into a perfect peak, like clay, designed for his mouth only. Your body warms instantly as pleasure courses through the wire straight down inside you. His hand is cupping the other breast, twirling that hard nipple between his fingers. Your mind is keenly focused on what he’s doing to you, his tongue drawing circles on the pink silky flesh drawn into his mouth. He bites down on the stiff bud and you moan aloud, working your fingers through the orange waves on his head, tugging tightly.

He releases that nipple and it falls softly out of his mouth, your breast bouncing slightly on the upswing then settling. It’s wet and darker in color now, the cool air on wet flesh sending a shiver through you. He turns to the other one to continue his sweet assault on your body, taking the other nipple between his teeth and swiping his tongue across it quickly.

You let go of his head and rake your fingers across his shoulders. “Ohhh, god. That feels so good.”

This seems to give him incentive to go a bit harder now, his palm squeezing one full breast, his thumb and forefinger seizing your nipple and tugging with zeal, while his mouth sucks the other feverishly. This lasts for minutes that feel like hours as you writhe beneath him, coming undone from his touch.

He looks up at you then, a nipple still snug between his lips, watching your face, your mouth forming a small o, breath coming out ragged and fast.

“Good so far?” He asks softly.

You don’t even bother to close your mouth. You just push out a breathy “Uh huh”.

He scoots his body down further, pressing wet kisses into your stomach while his hands still hold your breasts, arms reaching over his head. His lips are dipping lower and lower, biting down near your bikini line. You can feel his beard scratching lightly at your smooth skin. You’re watching his head slowly sink down in between your legs and your breathing hitches. He looks so fucking sexy, his ginger locks bright against your belly, the sleeves on his arm a stark contrast to your unmarked skin, feeling his mouth on your flesh teasing you, so close to where you want it.

He removes his hands from your breasts and brings them down to grip your ankles gently and push your legs up so that your knees are in the air now, bent, feet flat on the mattress. He looks into your eyes as he spreads your legs wide apart and you can feel yourself opening up, right there, in front of him. Such a vulnerable position, completely bare before him, his lips so close to where you want them. Where you’re desperate to feel them.

And then he lowers his mouth onto you. Finally.

He takes one long, slow lick from the bottom of your opening all the way up to your clit and then back down again. Your pelvis comes up off the bed without thought, pushing into his mouth. His hands are wrapped around your legs, holding onto the tops of your thighs. You look down at him, knocked out at the sight of him between your legs. His eyes are closed and his face wears an expression of both elation and determination.

Once more he lets his tongue glide over every soft part, painting wet strokes over the delicate lips just inside, open to him like a dusky butterfly. He moans a little and you hear him say, low, almost under his breath, “You taste so fucking good.”

“Ohhhh,” you breathe out, the one two punch of his words combined with that soft pink tongue dragging across your most sensitive flesh. He has yet to hardly touch your clit but you could almost just live in this moment right here, feeling him tracing every inch of your sex, as if he’s trying to memorize it, as if it’s his newest favorite thing. He sucks one dainty lip into his mouth gently and then lets go, only to repeat it with the other one. He does this several more times and you can tell he’s doing this, and taking his time, as much for your pleasure as his own.

Again he lets his tongue go flat and drag up the entire length of you and then lets it rest right on your clit. You’re holding yourself up by your elbows now, watching and at that moment he locks eyes with you and then gives your clit a firm lick, once, twice, three times and your head falls back, a moan escaping you, louder than you expected, but fuck. One tiny movement and everything in your body tightens and pleasure courses through you, right down to your toes. Every nerve ending is on fire and you raise your hips instinctively to meet his mouth.

More small, but steady licks right across that tight little bud and you’re seeing stars. It feels like everything has led up to this, the way he’s looked at you all night, like you’re something he can’t wait to devour. It all led to this glorious fucking tongue on you, belonging to the sexiest fucking boy you’ve ever seen. All you want is his mouth, more of it, more. Oh, fuck, that tongue. You’re clutching at the duvet underneath you, fisting the fabric, needing something to anchor you.

His hands come off your thighs and he brings them to rest on the mound just above his nose, and his thumbs pull back your folds, push them up higher, so that your clit is jutting out, the skin pulled back to reveal the swollen bit of shiny pink flesh that feels like everything right now.

Again, he points his tongue and laps at it with a steady rhythm. Your legs tense up and you suck in your breath. Holy fuck. It’s, it’s just, right there, so exposed, his tongue driving bolts of unadulterated pleasure swimming out into your body in steady waves. Your pelvis is nearly completely off the bed; you’re straining for more. This feels so fucking incredible. His tongue just lapping softly at your clit, over and over, so perfectly. The throbbing deep in your belly is building now, steadily, pulsing out from that one, tiny, spot that is everything.

Then without warning he sucks your clit into his mouth and you think you’re going to lose it right then and there. Just fall off the fucking cliff headfirst but then his tongue starts flicking at it from the inside, behind his lips, and my god, oh my god, you can hardly breathe. Your entire body clenches up and your hands fly to the back of his head, holding on, holding it in place, never wanting this to end. You’re reaching heights and altitudes you didn’t know were there. All you can feel is the pressure of that sweet suction on your most sensitive bit, the unrelenting vertical licks inside his mouth. This is killing you. This is, you’re coming undone, wave after wave, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it drives you quickly to the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out. “Don’t stop…”

Your sentence cuts off and a gasp falls out of your mouth as you feel a finger slide into you, then two. They slide in easily, riding in on your slickness. Oh, fuck. He’s starting to move them like before. He’s curling his fingers into the come here motion as if he’s beckoning your orgasm, taunting you, turning your entire lower half into a wobbly, pulsating mess, thick with pleasure. You are completely and utterly his, completely at his mercy, at the mercy of his fingers and his tongue, that unyielding tongue that keeps swirling over your engorged clit, never letting up.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, your voice shaky. “I’m so close.”

With that, he plunges his fingers further into you and curls them against your wall, curls then uncurls, and his tongue presses on, your clit still sucked into his mouth, between his lips, his tongue licking up and down, up and down, faster now, perfectly in time with his fingers and, and…

“Oh. Oh,” you pant. “Ed…”

He’s staring at your face, your eyebrows drawn together in concentration, your mouth open as you breathe hard. Your eyes lock and at that exact moment, he sucks harder, thrashing his tongue over your clit, back and forth, faster, faster, faster, oh, fuck. FUCK.

Your eyes slam shut and then your body caves in on itself as waves crash over you, pulling you under. Your entire body is singing and pleasure is ricocheting off every nerve ending, over every corner and you can’t feel anything but that tongue and the pleasure coursing through you, waves of warmth breaking under your skin. You’re gasping and moaning at the same time somehow and it feels like it lasts an eternity, just drowning, drowning. Sinking. Falling.

Your body is racked with spasms, clenching down on his fingers still inside of you, and then the waves begin to subside and sensitivity kicks in and your bucking hips begin to slow.

“My god,” you breathe out, your voice husky. “That was– You are amazing.”

Ed presses a soft kiss onto the place his tongue just rendered you senseless and when you peer down, you see a giant grin spreading across his face. Jesus, he looks hot, down there, between your legs, smiling up at you. He’s holding loosely onto your thighs again and you can see that his mouth is slick from your wetness, parts of his beard shiny from you.

You sit up a bit and reach forward, grabbing his neck and pulling him up to you. He obliges willingly and you smash your lips onto his, kissing him hard, tasting yourself. You are sated.

“Mm. I taste good,” you whisper against his mouth, a sly smile creeping into your tone.

“Yeah, you fucking do.”

You resume kissing him, letting your tongue glide over his lips and surrounding skin this time, covering more ground. It’s provocative and sensual, this. Tasting yourself on him.

“It was really hot watching you come,” he tells you, his voice thick with lust and conviction. “You’re so fucking sexy. You just let yourself completely come apart. It’s like you don’t have a shy bone in your body.”

You glance to the side sheepishly. “Yeah, I kind of don’t.”

You sit up and kiss him then, taking his face into your hands, trying to pour out all your gratitude and adoration.

“I wish I was more like that,” he tells you, a faraway look in his eyes.

“What, able to have unabashed orgasms?” you tease him.

“Nah, I’m good on the orgasm front,” he replies, with a small laugh. “I meant the shy part.”

“But you play to thousands and thousands of people! On a stage! By yourself!” you protest. “I could never do that.”

“Yeah, but that’s easy. I’ve been wanting to do that since I was a kid. And I’m good at it; it just comes naturally to me by now.”

He scoots up further and leans on his side, propping his head up in his hand, elbow bent, his face even with yours. He leans over to place a kiss upon your cheek and then continues.

“You just seem so comfortable in your skin. Like you wouldn’t change anything about yourself.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far…”

“But for the most part, that’s true, yeah?” He looks at you expectantly.

“I guess, yeah.”

“See? I can tell by… how you are with me is exactly how you are with other people, like earlier tonight, with my mates. You were just chill, just you.”

He takes a breath, looking contemplative. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes and you simply wait, staying silent, knowing he’s got more to say.

“I’ve just always wished parts of me were different. And I’m not always comfortable in my skin. I wish I were. I mean, it’s gotten a lot better, but still there are times.”

He’s speaking matter-of-factly. He doesn’t sound sorry for himself or like he’s looking for protestations. And it kills you a little inside to hear him say he’d change who he is, or maybe it’s how he looks. Whatever it is, you can’t even fathom. You don’t understand how anyone in his perfect, freckled-just-right, skin would wish for anything different.

This man lying next to you is mind-numbingly sexy. You’d gladly spend hours pouring over his body and face, memorizing every glorious inch. He is kind and funny and fascinating. He puts others instantly at ease with his humble and amiable nature. He brings out the goofy side in himself and others at the most perfect times. He’s more talented than everyone you know put together. And everything is lit up and brighter when he is with you, everything better, everything sweeter, when he is by your side. You want to tell him he’s perfect. You want to tell him there is nothing, not a single red hair on his head that you’d wish different, not one trait you’d change in him. You want to say that you are falling harder than you ever imagined you would when you looked into his bright blue eyes, that first day, that very first time you touched him before you even knew it was him.

But you can’t find the right words and you’re scared it’s too soon. So you settle on a sentence that is the truth, but far, far less than all the emotions swirling inside you, already forming a hurricane of messy love and admiration all mashed up in one crazy funnel.

“I like everything about you,” you say quietly.

“Course you do. I haven’t shown you the bad bits yet,” he says with a cheeky smile. “I reckon you’ll run for the hills when my seedy underbelly is exposed.”

“I happen to like seedy underbellies, I’ll have you know…”

Your words trail off as you slide down his body to place your lips at the bottom of his stomach, letting your tongue trace the thin line of hair that reaches from his naval down to the copper-colored pubic hair nestled below.

You hear him inhale sharply above you as your mouth hovers near his cock, your breath ghosting out over it. You wander further, though, and take one of his balls between your lips, sucking the soft, wrinkled skin into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the small pouch.

“Mmm,” Ed lets out a deeply contented sigh.

You continue suckling at his testicle, the sparse hairs somehow endearing, while your hand seeks out his partially flaccid cock, which begins to grow bigger in your palm.

You let the delicate skin slip from your mouth and sit up. You give him a quick kiss and notice he’s looking at you with a confused expression, wondering why you’d stopped.

“I need water,” you say.

And with that you sit up and begin to swing your leg over the bed– only to be hauled backwards, strong hands on your waist, to find yourself pinned down by this sexy, naked man who’s wearing a devilish grin as he peers down at you, his legs pinning yours between them, his hands on your wrists pushed flat against the mattress.

Your breath is swiftly stolen away as his lips comes down onto yours, tongue in your mouth like it belongs there, like you belong to him.

He pulls back, nips at your lower lip and tells you, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“But I’m thirsty!” you whimper plaintively.

He responds by taking one hand off your wrist and sliding it down your body, dragging his fingertips against your skin, electrifying the path. His hand disappears between you two and then you feel two fingers slide inside you and, jesus, fuck. He’s doing that curling motion with his fingers straight away and your body clenches in on itself involuntary. Those magic fucking fingers.

“I want you to come this way for me,” he pleads, close to your ear, kissing your neck while you’re trying to breathe.

He’s relentless, those fingers are relentless. They’re pressing right on your G spot, stroking that wall over and over, and the low pressure starts to build again. You bite down on your lip, curl your hands into fists, let out a moan.

And then, just like that, he stills his hand, kisses you quickly and says, “Go get your water.” He’s got a mischievous grin and his eyes are dancing.

“You’re such a shit!” You playfully punch his bicep and roll your eyes, laughter escaping without your permission. He just looks so fucking cute like that, grinning at you, far too pleased with the power he holds over you, teasing you like this. So you push him backwards, toppling back onto the bed and then pull yourself to the edge and stand up.

“Just for that, I’m not getting you a thing,” you call back over your shoulder as you saunter over to the wet bar. Opening up the mini refrigerator, you bend over, reaching into the far back to pull out the coldest bottle in there.

Just as you’re about to straighten back up, you feel a hand splay across the small of your back and feel legs up against yours.

“I like you bent over like this,” Ed tells you in a low voice, his hands drifting down over your ass towards the tops of the back of your thighs and back up again, cupping your ass lightly.

“I bet you do,” you say, as you straighten back up into him, laying your head back on his chest. You take a long sip of the ice cold water and then turn to face him, holding out the bottle on offer. He takes it and tilts his head back, taking several large gulps. When he’s done, he sets it on the low side table next to him.

“I really do want that, though,” he says as he slides his hands around your waist and lowers his lips onto yours.

“Want what?” You whisper into his mouth, as his fingers find their way down to your still wet slit, dipping in between the folds, circling your clit now. You moan and grasp at his shoulders. Jesus. He can’t seem to keep his hands off you. Not that you’re complaining…

“I want you to come for me that way.” His breath is hot against your neck, his fingers still gliding over your clit, making all the nerves in your body sing.

You let out a sigh, your eyes screwed shut, concentrating on how his fingers are strumming against your sensitive skin.

“Can you make me come that way from fucking me?” you ask.

“I can try…”

“Teddy,” you breathe out, your voice low in pitch, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “Fuck me. Now.”

No more waiting. No more teasing. You are fucking hungry for him.

You run your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, around to the back of his neck and pull him to you, pressing your soft, naked body further up against his, taut.

He brings his mouth crushing down on yours, emboldened by your command, his arms now encircling your back. Everything becomes frenetic and passionate now, hands in hair, mouths open, breathing hard. His lips are on your neck, then up to your mouth again, then back to your jawbone, biting, licking, kissing, sucking. Your head is thrown back, devouring every sensation.

Your hand reaches for his thick, upturned cock. It is so warm in your hand, he is so hard. It curves up to his stomach and you’ve wrapped your fist around the shaft and slide it up over the head and back down again. His cock is fucking perfect and you’re struck by how badly you want it, how much you want to feel it inside of you, how acutely you are aching to be fucked by it, hard.

Something is lifting you and you realize it’s him, his hands firmly on your ass, holding you suspended. You wrap your legs around his waist and with your arms around his neck now, you hold on, while kissing him, licking and biting at his perfect pink lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth, kissing him as hard as you can as he carries you across the room heading back towards the bed when he stops, and looks to the side of where he’s standing.

The sofa in the sitting area is thick and sturdy, a dark grey suede, that takes up half the room. Ed sets you down gently on top of the back of it. You expect to tip backwards, but to your surprise the base is wide enough to completely support you.

Ed lets go of your hips after he’s placed you there, steps back one minute step, and looks down while parting your legs with his hands on the inside of each knee. The frenzy that had just engulfed you both has slowed with these actions, though your breathing hasn’t. His hands pull you wide apart and you are completely open to him again and he can’t take his eyes off you.

He steps a little closer, while grasping his cock in one hand and slides it up and back down your glistening slit, the tip of the head disappearing between your folds. You strain your hips toward him and he takes the hint and pushes the entire plump head of his cock inside you, while watching intently. Oh, shit. That feels so good. More. You want more.

He brings it back out again, still holding the shaft with his right hand. Then, again, in he plunges, sinking more of his length into you this time. You stifle a groan. It feels so fucking incredible, while also stinging just a little. He’s wide and you haven’t adjusted to his size yet. But there’s something about that flash of pain that turns you on. It means he’s big and it means he’s finally, finally inside you.

Now his hands grab your hips and scoot you out a bit more towards him, tilt you up just so. He pulls out once more and then slowly, slowly pushes all the way back in, all the way inside of you. You’re both looking down, watching his cock as it disappears inside you. It’s so fucking hot. You hardly ever get this view and he is absolutely mesmerized by it. The way his cock is glistening with your wetness as it slides out. The way you can feel the ridge of the head bump up against your opening and then shift down to push inside of you, creating the most enjoyable friction.

Once more he pulls way back and then plunges back into you with some force this time. You gasp loudly and involuntarily. He is filling you up and it’s fucking incredible. He looks up at your mouth, still open and then to your eyes and brings his mouth to yours for another kiss. The moment you feel his tongue on yours is when he speeds up the rhythm, his cock sliding in and out faster now with a steady flow.

Every time he moves deep inside of you, you feel it in the furthest part, back up against your furthest wall and it’s slightly uncomfortable in the best fucking way possible, in that crazy way, that when administered correctly, pain can feel so fucking brilliant. With each thrust, you bring your hips up closer to meet his. Your upper bodies are mashed together now, tacky with a thin film of sweat. You can hear the sticky, slapping sound as he thrusts in and out of you, bare skin hitting bare skin. Your arms are wrapped around him and you’re biting down on his shoulder, trying to stifle your loud moans.

“Harder,” you breathe into him. “Fuck me harder.”

With that he hoists your legs even tighter up around his waist, and then grabs hold of your ass and you’re up in the air again, being carried back to the bed, with his long cock still buried inside you.

He lays you down on top of the disheveled duvet, positions himself above you, propped up on both arms and starts with one leisurely thrust, then another, sliding in way too excruciatingly slow

“You want me to fuck you harder?” His voice is low, rumbly.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Teddy, please…”

He sits up, removing the top half of his body from yours and pulls you closer to him by your hips. He’s properly sitting up now, staring down at where he’s entering you and he begins to thrust harder, like you asked. He is pounding into you now, slam, slam, over and over, filling you up so completely. Your breasts shake and wobble with each deep thrust. With him siting up like this, his cock is hitting your G spot on the descent and the ferocity with which he’s pumping into you has your legs shaking, your breathing coming in hard and fast.

You cover his hands with your own, holding onto your hips, so he can drive his cock deep, deep inside you. His eyes alternate between watching your breasts shudder up and down to watching himself pound into you and then back up to look into your eyes. His are lidded, heavy, his brow knit together.

He says your name, lets it drift out on a moan. His hair is becoming floppier as it bounces, catching hold of his forehead, damp with sweat.

The head of his cock is sliding right up and into that sensitive wall, pounding, pounding, and with every swift motion, pleasure seeps out into the center of you, pulsating throughout, buidling into something nearly unbearable, something exquisitely overwhelming. His cock is unyielding, and you want to freeze time and feel nothing but his cock, thrusting in and out of you, see nothing but his face, his jaw slack and his eyes locked on yours, hear nothing but the steady trill of moans escaping from his mouth from somewhere deep in his throat.

He’s close now. It’s in the way that his thrusts have become sloppier and shorter and the pace has escalated to a point that has you both gasping for breath. Little ‘ah’, ‘ah’s are pouring out of him, his eyes closing and you reach up for him, and pull him down flat on top of you and grasp him, arms holding onto his back. His hands find your face and hold it, while he stares into your eyes, his hips moving frenetically into yours, his cock buried deep in you.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” he mutters.

And then he lets go, he comes undone, right there on top of you, his body twitching, his eyes screwed shut tightly. You purposefully clench up tight around his cock, trying to hold it within your walls, knowing the addition of this slight pressure will send him that much further into his shuddering orgasm.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, his body finally going limp.

He takes your mouth in a deep kiss and then pulls back to plant smaller kisses all along your face and jawbone. He is half giddy, a giant grin on his face. You take his face in your hands and kiss him.

“That was unreal,” he says, awe coloring his words, while interspersing kisses onto your lips.

A huge sigh escapes as he rolls off you and lays on his back beside you. He pulls you into him, angling your body so you can lay partially across him, your head resting on his chest. You snake your leg over, intertwining it with his. He’s running his fingers through your hair now, stroking gently with care. You both lie there, lost in the moment, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

“Where did you come from??” he asks, smiling at you incredulously. “And how did I even function before?”

“I could say the same to you,” you tell him with a small giggle.

“Come here,” he says, scooting you both up on the bed so that he can retrieve the covers from underneath and then he beckons for you to come lay on your side, facing the opposite wall. He slides up behind you, fitting his body against yours, turning you into the little spoon. He replaces the covers over the both of you and then buries his face just above your shoulder, lips pressed to your hair, inhaling deeply.

“Just glad I found you,” he whispers, sleep already encroaching on his words.

(…it’s still not over. You kidding? To be continued.)

Tell Me. (part 4)

PART 3

Ed opens one of the double doors that lead into his suite for you and you’re momentarily taken aback by what you see.

The bed looks so fluffy that you want to dive right in and lay your head atop one of the quirky houndstooth pillows littering the top half, but then your attention is captured by the spacious balcony with low slung, color blocked chairs up against glass partitions overlooking the twinkling lights of the city laid out below.

You turn back to look at Ed, your mouth forming a silent O.

“Wow,” you say.

“I know,” he replies, nodding. “D'you know what? This is why I love staying here.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“My place back home is going to have a similar feel to it, actually. When it’s all done.”

The suite is both spacious and palatial, without being ostentatious. It’s all sleek lines and minimalist perfection, while still feeling very inviting and warm. He’s going to have to kick you out eventually because you just want to dig your heels in and live here forever.

The phones beside the bed and on the table in the sitting area ring out together suddenly and Ed looks at you, his eyebrows knit together in bewilderment.

“That’s odd. I don’t usually get calls on the land line,” he tells you, while walking over to one of the phones.

He picks up the handset and says “Hello?” with a question in his voice. “Ah, hey, mate… Sorry, yeah, I just turned it off. Nah, nah, it’s okay. What’s up?”

His voice trails off as you head for the balcony to give him some privacy, sliding the large glass door to the side and then closed behind you. You step out onto the deck as a breeze swarms in and sends a shiver through you. It’s a warm night for this time of year but the breeze carries a bite. The city lights flirt with you from below, like gleaming jewels in an urban treasure chest.

You’re gazing out, lost in thought, when you hear the door slide open behind you and then feel warm hands slide around your middle with practiced ease. You turn your face to the side and lift it up to see Ed’s coming down towards yours to press a light kiss onto your lips.

“Sorry about that,” he says, after his lips have left yours. “It was a mate of mine who’s got fuck all going on at the moment and wanted to see if I’d come round for an impromptu party.”

You don’t want to keep him from having fun, or seeing friends. He’s probably not in town that often and has a hundred people who want to see him.

“You know, you can if you want. I don’t mind,” you tell him, meaning it. Well, mostly. You DO want him to feel free to be himself, to do what he’d like, and to see his friends, but you’ve waited so long, missed him so much and damn, if this boy hasn’t gotten you worked up all night long and you’re really looking forward to him finishing the job he started.

“Nah,” he tells you, shaking his head. He drops a kiss onto your temple. “I’m right where I want to be.”

His eyes follow your gaze out onto the vast expanse in front of you. Nestling his cheek against your hair, he asks, “Enjoying the view?”

“God, yes. This is gorgeous.”

“I prefer mine,” he says with a smirk, an exaggerated smarmy edge to his tone.

You turn your head to peer back at him, your brow furrowed. What is he talking about?

Ah. He’s leering down at your ample cleavage. Ha. You should’ve known. His blond eyebrows shoot up in rapid succession suggestively at you. He looks downright Vaudevillian.

“Real smooth, Sheeran,” you scoff, laughing.

“What??” He asks, injecting a mock-hurt tone to his words. His face is the picture of innocence.

You roll your eyes at him with a grin and give him a nudge with your elbow into his chest while he chuckles and then turn your attention back to the city lights. Sometimes, you think you like him most when his dorky side rears its head.

You two are silent for a minute, just standing there, gazing out from on high, watching as the city lights sparkle below the night sky, as if all the stars have fallen down in front of you. You’ve both begun swaying a bit, two bodies in sync, slow dancing to some unheard rhythm, with him standing behind you, his strong, colorfully detailed arms wrapped snugly around your waist. It’s just slight movement, mostly in your hips and his, doing little figure eights together. There’s something tranquil about this, this swaying together, content to just… be. The urgency you’d felt earlier has been replaced now with a sense of serenity almost, a contentedness.

“I’m thinking about getting a flat here,” he says after a while.

“Really?” You’re surprised. You assumed the banality of this city would’ve discouraged him from putting down roots here.

“Yeah, I lived here for a brief time when I first came to the states. And I’ve got loads of friends based here, as well as my producer, the one I told you about.”

He dips his head to your bare shoulder and plants a series of lingering kisses along it, heading up towards your neck. Tingles run through you as his soft lips drag a trail over your skin, prickly stubble tickling the sensitive flesh there. The littlest motions from him set you aflutter. It’s crazy, this spell he’s got you under, the pull you feel.

“Plus,” he says, his mouth now just under your ear, grazing your neck. “There’s a certain girl who lives here and I’m not particularly fond of being too far away from her.”

With that, the butterflies in your belly spring to life. You sometimes can’t believe your luck. Or is it fate? No. You don’t believe in fate. You don’t believe that everything happens for a reason. All you know is that, thank you universe, you were in the right place at the right time and somehow, this handsome, wonderful man somehow finds you wonderful too.

But even though you want to turn around and throw your arms around his neck and smother him with a million kisses, all while declaring your love, you know that it isn’t actually love, yet. It’s heading there, but you’re sensible enough to know that you’re, at least partially, caught up in a tornado of lust coupled with the exhilarating thrill of the newness of it all right now, plus both of you are riding the endorphin high that reuniting after being apart brings. So you try to rein in these emotions and go for something a bit lighter.

“And don’t forget In N Out,” you say teasingly, tilting your head back to toss a smile to him. “I know you can’t bear to be away from your beloved Double Double.”

“God, that sounds good right now,” he says with a throaty growl. The boy sure does love his food.

“Wanna go get some?” There’s one a couple streets over and a cheeseburger sounds downright fucking delicious.

“Maybe later. We’ve got some pressing matters that need to be attended to right now…”

His voice drifts away as he begins to kiss your neck, heading closer to your lips. You tilt your head back towards him again and offer him your mouth. He takes it eagerly and all thoughts of food are forgotten. His soft tongue is deftly weaving it’s way between your lips as his hands spread out over your waist, his fingers splayed over you possessively. You stretch your own fingertips down and run them over your thighs as he begins to explore.

Ed’s hands snake up your front to pull back the neckline of your halter dress, all the way to each side and both of your breasts tumble out. He deepens the kiss for a moment and then breaks away to glance down from over your shoulder, watching his own hands as they reach up to cup your breasts, spilling over into his palms. He brings his thumbs and forefingers up to grip your nipples in tandem. Oh, fuck. Those little lightening strikes again straight down between your legs. He’s rolling them between his fingers, drawing them out into elongated points.

God, he really loves watching himself play with your body. It seems to turn him on that much more and you can feel his erection growing, pressed firm up against your ass.

His fingers release your nipples after giving both a slight tug and travel down to the hem of your little black dress and begin pulling it up, rolling it inch by inch up over your thighs.

Your arms instinctively go up and over and wind around his neck. With your arms raised like this, your back arches against him, your breasts jut out further and you tangle your fingers into his soft orange hair at the bottom, carding your fingers through the curls there. The skirt of your dress is now up around your waist. Aside from a few scraps around your neck and middle, you’re essentially naked, having eschewed all undergarments earlier before leaving the house.

Ed’s hands are stroking the tops of your thighs now, fingers dancing closer to the center, and you can feel his breath stuttering against your neck.

“How do you take this off?” He whispers, referring to your dress.

Instead of telling him, you just slip the halter over your head and let it fall to your middle. Then you wriggle the entire dress down your hips and let it fall to the floor, before stepping out of it. You’re completely bare now and he turns you around to face him.

For several long moments he lets his gaze drift over your body, savoring it. You feel beautiful under his stare, his expression transparent, letting you know, in no uncertain terms, that he very much likes what he sees, that he wants what’s in front of him. There’s something deeply sexy about being completely naked, save for your nude stilettos, standing in front of this man who is fully clothed, having apparently done back up his buttons while he was on the phone. You feel like art on display, being admired by the sexiest fucking curator you’ve ever met.

You take a step toward him and take his hands in yours and then place them on your ass. He automatically squeezes a bit, digging his fingers into the supple skin. You wonder if he’s a bit of an ass man. He did mention several times how he thought back to the first night you met and how hot he thought it was that when he went to cup your ass while kissing the shit out of you up against that car, that his fingers slipped up the back of your skirt and met flesh instead of fabric because you’d had a thong on.

With his hands busy, you reach up and take his head into your hands, bringing it down to yours and lift your lips up to his ear. You take the lobe between your teeth, running your tongue along it and you can feel him shiver. His hands are alternating between kneading your ass and running them up and down your back, just trying to feel every uncovered inch of you.

He kisses you again and let’s one hand slide to your hip while the other dips down between the two of you, down between your legs, his fingers parting your sweet folds there that are already glistening, aching for his touch.

Two fingers slide into you swiftly and you gasp softly, with a quiet “ohhh”. He’s twisting on the descent again, this time more exaggeratedly and hitting your G spot, and once his fingers are all the way inside you, he starts curving them into a come-here motion, stroking your wall. Your breathing hitches. He slides his fingers out and then in again, beckoning you from inside, his fingertips stroking that sensitive wall in just the right way, curling inside of you, over and over, just curling up and beckoning.

Fuck. This feels… Jesus. It feels incredible. No one has ever done this quite like that before. Past boyfriends rarely moved beyond the in and out motion, certainly never like this, not the way Ed’s fingers are systematically stroking your G spot and bringing about this sort of pulsating feeling of warmth in your pelvis, an intense buildup of pure pleasure every time his fingers curl tightly into your wall. They’re moving faster and harder and it’s almost too much, a slight sense of needing to pee maybe, but not that exactly, just amazing waves of strong, unfiltered pleasure unfurling inside. It’s hard to breathe, to concentrate.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” you whisper plaintively, your eyes closed as you drown in these sensations.

Your faces are close together now, your breathy sighs and moans escaping in a steady fashion. You grab onto his hand and push it tighter onto you, nudging him to plunge his fingers deeper. You hold it there, practically begging with your fingers for him to keep stroking you inside harder, faster.

He’s studying your face, completely enrapt by the way you look, the expressions you’re making, born of naked desire and a complete lack of inhibition, while his fingers move steadily inside you.

He’s getting turned on just watching you; you’re practically writhing in his hands, letting out a steady pace of moans that don’t even feel like they’re coming from you. Your wetness is now stealthily sliding down into his palm and there’s something inherently sexy for him in knowing he is the thing making you feel this good. Your hips are moving of their own accord, drawing broken little circles in the air, pushing against his hand, and your breathing is becoming more labored now. He is taking you all in, the way your breasts are bouncing a little on your deep breaths and the thrust of your hips, the way your head is falling back, your mouth open, your eyebrows knit together in concentration, completely caught up in what his fingers are doing to you. Just you, standing before him, naked, bare, at the mercy of his touch.

“God, you’re fucking sexy,” he mutters, almost to himself, under his breath.

The feelings overtaking you right now are practically foreign, they feel so fucking intense, so fucking good. It’s almost too much. Fuck. There’s a pressure building up inside your pelvis, low in your belly, it’s so all-consuming, so overwhelming, his fingers curling in you. They’re utterly relentless.

“Oh, god. I…” You’re trying to catch your breath, trying to make sense. “Fuck.”

“Yeah?” His face is mere inches away, his mouth hovering next to yours. He nips at your lower lip lightly.

“Wait, wait, please…” you whimper. You’re drowning, these feelings so insanely good, but so intense in this unexplainable, staggering way. You feel like you’re about to tip over a cliff you’ve never stared down before and you just need it ease up a little, you just need to breathe for a second.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers back, reassuringly. He slowly withdraws his fingers and let’s them dance up towards your clit and back down again, now just stroking you gently, gauging your readiness.

“Sorry, I just… Wow.” You’re unable to form coherent sentences. Your head is still spinning.

“Did you…?” He asks uncertainly, his question lingering in the air between you.

“No, I.. It was just so…” you stumble over your words. “I’ve never, actually. Not from that way, not from just the inside,” you say, shyness creeping into your voice as you look up into those gorgeous blues.

“You’ve never come that way before?”

You look down at the ground. “No. Jesus, this is embarrassing,” you say, huffing out a laugh, trying to make light of it.

“No, it is not,” he tells you emphatically, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin. He waits until you’re looking straight into his eyes and then he gives you a firm, insistent kiss. “What that was was fucking hot. Jesus. I could watch you like that for hours.”

“Really?” Worry crinkles forming lines on your forehead and a hopeful little smile.

You just felt kind of … out of control, maybe. Out of your element. Unable to do something that comes naturally to so many women. You have had orgasms, of course, but only from clitoral stimulation. And this was different and new. It was just so intense and it caught you off guard, having never felt that much, that way, before.

“Yes, really,” he tells you encouragingly, in between small kisses pressed to your lips. He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Besides, reckon I’ve got a challenge in front of me now…”

He’s grinning at you lasciviously. You give him a playful punch to his bicep and bury your head into his chest.

“Come on. Let’s get a drink,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you back inside towards the small wet bar in the corner of his suite. Noticing that you’re still naked, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes it off and places it around your shoulders and you shrug your arms into the sleeves that are way too long for you and roll them up, once, twice, and then push them the rest of the way up. You button one button at your midriff, leaving the rest to move around you, affording Ed little peaks at your bare body underneath.

He turns around to the bar to make you both drinks and you step back and lean against the love seat armrest and study him from the back. His body is pale with a smattering of freckles along his shoulders, his arms encased in rich, multicolored tattoos, making his torso appear that much lighter in comparison. Though his body is lean, you can make out definition across his back and altogether it’s sexy as hell. Jesus. What isn’t sexy about this man?

He turns around and hands you a lowball of whiskey and coke, pausing to let his eyes sweep down to your chest. His shirt has fallen open on the left, one bare breast fully visible, the nipple taut, pointing out.

You stand up as he walks toward you. You look up at him, step up on tiptoes to sneak a kiss onto his lips, and pull his bottom lip out between your teeth as you pull away.

“You like biting me, don’t you,” he says, a bemused expression on his face.

“I do like biting you,” you reply brazenly. “And I haven’t even begun, really…”

“That so?”

“Uh huh,” your lips are traveling over his collar bone, nipping at it, interspersing little licks. Your mouth heads lower, a small nipple in your line of vision. One hand is holding his hip, the other one cupping his cock now, through his pants. Your lips find his nipple and give it the tiniest bite, once, twice. He exhales sharply above you.

“No one’s ever done that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Without looking up you can tell he’s closed his eyes.

“No?” you ask rhetorically, as you begin to let your tongue glide over his nipple with short, sharp little licks. Then you bite down again, this time with a bit more force. You hear a small groan in his throat. “Do you like it?”

“I mean… It’s kind of weird, but it also feels really good.”

“Good,” you murmur against his chest as you slide your mouth against his pale skin, heading for his other nipple, leaving tracks with your tongue. You circle it with the tip of your tongue and then suck it in between your lips while nipping it with your teeth. Another gasp from above you. You continue sucking on it lightly for a moment and then biting down again. You hear a quiet moan.

You pull your mouth back and straighten up. Your hand is still on his erection, rubbing it up and down lightly, alternating between gripping it through his pants and sliding your hand up and down and rubbing the head with your thumb.

Ed looks down at you and his eyes are clouded. You can easily tell he’s craving more.

“Tell me what you want,” you say.

“I want to fuck you,” he breathes out, enjoying what your hand is doing.

“Yeah?” you reply. “Do you also want to fuck my mouth?” Your words are low, sexy, dragging out the syllables, enunciating each word.

“Yes…”

“Tell me.”

“I want to fuck your mouth,” he says, as his hands come up to hold the sides of your face and his mouth comes down to meet yours. Your stomach does another roller coaster dip. It sounds so fucking hot, hearing him say that. Something dirty coming out of that angelic, perfectly shaped mouth. His slightly innocent looks only add to your arousal when coupled with something so decidedly smutty coming out of those flawless, dark pink lips.

“Say it again.”

“I want to fuck your mouth,” his lips barely touching yours, foreheads pressed together. He’s staring into your eyes like this, they’re on fire, boring into you. “I want to fuck your mouth with my cock.”

Fuck. You let out a moan into his mouth, your eyes closing, heavy with desire. This boy is going to kill you with just words alone.

You sit back down on the arm of the love seat, pulling him toward you until he stands just before you. Your hands seek his belt and make quick work of it as you let your tongue travel across his soft belly, biting once when you’ve come to a stop. You pull his belt through the loops and let it drop to the floor. Next come his pants; Once you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped them, you easily tug them down and let hem drop to his ankles. He steps out of them. He’s now only wearing a pair of fitted black boxers.

You let your tongue dive down lower, right above the waistband of his boxers. You can see his belly curve inward as he inhales sharply. You dip your head down a little lower and let your lips drag upwards from the base of his already hard cock, over the thin fabric, pressing hard enough to send shivers through him. You mouth at the head of his cock, teasing him, letting your tongue wander, still over the black cotton which now has a tiny damp spot on it.

Then slowly, you remove his boxers, pulling them out and over, and then drag them down his legs. His cock is thick and long and standing straight up against his stomach, curving in ever so slightly.

You start at the base again, and place your tongue, flat and wide, and let it glide up the entire shaft, your hands on the outside of his strong thighs. You do it once more, your tongue covering the entire length. Ed’s breathing has deepened now and his hands find their way into your hair at the back of your head. He’s not forcing your mouth towards him, just enjoying the act of holding onto you like this as you work your magic on his cock.

You grab hold of the base and curl your fist over it, drawing it away from his body and gliding the plump, pink head into your mouth. At the same time, you look up at him through your lashes. Swirling your tongue around the head while its nestled in your warm, wet mouth, you can see his eyes glaze over and then come to focus on you again. Half the fun of this, what makes it so impossibly hot, is him being able to watch his cock disappear in and out of your mouth, how fucking sexy that is. You know how much he likes it and you’re making sure to put on one hell of a show for him, let him see how much you enjoy sucking on his cock. You want his knees to buckle by the end of this.

You suckle on the head for a moment longer and then bring your lips down further over his cock, going slow, gingerly even, because of his size. You start to move your mouth up and down over the shaft, taking a little more in each time, always making sure your tongue is continually gliding up and down the smooth skin that’s inside your mouth, never letting up. You let your fist start to follow your mouth, the edge of your finger and your top lip linking up together and on every upstroke you pay a little more mind to his cockhead, sucking at it, letting your tongue dance over the little V on the underside, knowing it’s the most sensitive area and then letting your fist, already sticky and moist with saliva, come up over the head with a little half circle twist each time. It should feel to him like an extension of your warm, wet mouth.

His skin is so soft against your tongue, steel encased in velvet. You want to take all of him in and you push yourself a little, force your lips down even further over the shaft, hearing Ed groan above you. Your eyes flick up and into his, seeing your desire reflected back in his expression.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes, “That feels amazing.”

His hands tighten into fists in your hair, while his hips start pressing forward, coming to meet your mouth as you swallow more and more of his large cock, continuing to let your tongue swirl around and around it on the inside.

You tighten your lips around the slick shaft and then let them come all the way off once you reach his smooth cockhead, eyes still trained on him. You give it a quick lap with your tongue, then one more with his eyes fixed on your lips, hungrily devouring every move you make, and then you plunge straight down, further than each time before and feel the head of his cock touch the back of your throat. Yes. Right there.

A little more, then a little more as you suppress a slight gagging motion and suckle at his whole cock as its nearly entirely buried in your mouth now and down your throat just so. You hover there for a moment and moan, letting your tongue dance around it inside.

“Jesus.” He mutters. “Oh my god.”

A couple more thrusts as you take his cock back into your throat a few more times as he moans above you. Then you begin to ease up and come back up to focus on the head and the first few inches, the most pleasurable area, starting up with the little swirls of your tongue again. You speed up your rhythm, introduce your hand again and let your saliva make everything indulgently slippery while you bob your head, faster and faster now, letting your lips curl over your teeth and tighten while sliding over his stiff, wet cock.

He moans your name from above and you look up into his hooded blue eyes, pupils blown wide.

“I’m going to – I’m really close.”

You just keep sucking on him, eyes wide, unblinking. You want him to say it.

“Can I…?” He says, in a low voice.

You wait him out again, only raising your eyebrows, goading him into saying more. Your mouth is working his cockhead over, lapping at it, suckling it, your fist just below, pumping up and down.

He looks a little embarrassed, a flush overtaking his neck. Or is that arousal?

“Can I come in your mouth?” he finally says, his breathing coming in ragged. He’s close, you can tell. The way his eyebrows keep drawing together slightly, his mouth open allowing small moans to escape, his stomach muscles clenching up.

At his question, you briefly break into a satisfied smile. “Yes,” you tell him in a throaty voice. “Now fuck my mouth.”

He inhales loudly at your command, the air whistling through his teeth, his eyes closing at how hot it sounds and then his hands clasp the back of your head as he starts to move his hips into you, sliding his cock in and out of your mouth as he stands gaping down at the motion. You stay still, unmoving, letting him fuck your mouth, and close your lips around his flesh as tight as you can, lapping at him from inside. His pace picks up, his hips moving faster and faster now, and he fists your hair, moaning little “ah, ah"s, thrusting his slick cock in and out, in and out.

Then his head tilts back, his eyes screw shut and you feel a burst of sticky, salty liquid fall on your tongue. His thrusts slow as another small burst of semen hits the roof of your mouth. His breathing is coming in hard and fast and his hips are tight, muscles clenched. One more dribble of come lands on your tongue and you bring your hand up to hold his cock lightly, while sucking on the head gently, making sure there isn’t anything left. You swallow and then look up at him and find him staring at you and you swear there is awe on his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, pulling you up close to him. “That was fucking incredible.”

He brings his mouth down to yours and kisses you softly on the lips. You part your lips and let your tongue wander into his tentatively, not knowing how he’ll react to tasting himself. To your delight, he just deepens the kiss, welcoming your tongue and swirling his against yours.

He pulls back and let’s his forehead rest against yours.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he says, pulling back to look into your eyes, taking your face in his hands, affectionately. “You haven’t even come y–”

“Shhh,” you tell him, silencing him with a kiss. “We have all night. I’m in no rush.”

“We’ve got longer than that, love.”

…to be continued, of course.

Tell Me. (pt 4)

PART 3

Ed opens one of the double doors that lead into his suite for you and you’re momentarily taken aback by what you see.

The suite is gorgeous and honestly, sleek as hell. It’s got the same minimalist vibe that you’ve seen throughout the hotel, but this isn’t all glossy whites and muted tones. There are bursts of color all over: one massive, slightly abstract - slightly anime, piece of art on the wall directly opposite the entrance that is bursting with reds and oranges; a jagged violet stripe that’s running up the otherwise dark duvet, perfectly framing the monstrosity of a tufted, handsome leather headboard in dusky charcoal; one accent wall of the suite painted in a subdued, but still strong yellow and all of it so striking against the dark, dark grain of the hardwood floors, partially covered by oversize, stark black and white quarterfoil-print area rugs. The bed looks so fluffy that you want to dive right in and lay your head atop one of the quirky hounds tooth pillows littering the top half, but then your attention is captured by the spacious balcony with low slung, color blocked chairs up against glass partitions overlooking the twinkling lights of the city laid out below.