Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Warnings: Mention of war/deployment, female anatomy reader, NSFW porn, excessive swearing, reader is described as small compared to Ghost, size kink, mirror-sex kink, age-gap but not really? (reader is mentioned being younger than him), consent is sexy baby, needy/desperate Ghost and Reader, unprotected sex, possessive!Ghost, teasing, FLUFF, pining.
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He’s on leave when he first meets her. Sitting alone in a pub, clutching a glass of their finest whiskey--
A small, soft, hand gently gripping his arm startles him into defense mode that had been ingrained in him since he was child, always on edge long before he joined the military--
Oh. His head snaps to look over at the offender but he’s met with a cute little thing, bright eyes that are glazed over a bit from the alcohol and cheeks flushed from the natural heat of liquid courage.
“I know this is, really out of the blue and I don’t-don’t normally do this,” The way she stutters is fucking adorable. Voice slightly slurred from the drinks she had earlier, something fruity because he can vaguely smell strawberries on her breath--
“But there’s a guy, over there,” She discretely points in a direction behind her. “And he’s been watching me all night. I wanna go home but I’m afraid he’ll follow me.” Her voice gets small at the end, glancing up at him with wide doe-eyes that makes something squeeze in his chest--
Simon’s gaze flickers to a booth she'd pointed out and he doesn’t need any clarification because his eyes land on some slimy motherfucker with beady eyes that’s staring in her direction. The man ducks his head when he notices Ghost’s piercing stare, a look that could burn holes through someone with how fucking dangerous the glint in his eyes are.
The soft lilt of her voice catches his attention. Dark, half lidded eyes glancing down at her from where he’s leaned against the bar. “If I wasn’t clear, I’m asking if you’d walk me home? I only live a few blocks--” The rest falls on deaf ears because in what fucking universe would some soft, little lady come to him for protection? He wasn’t made to protect, to shield, no. He could see any of the other boys he’s deployed with doing so-- but him? How Simon protects people, civilians, innocents, is through the elimination of his enemy. His bloodstained hands make sure of that, impure with scars that only remind him of his work and that he’s a fucking weapon--
Slimy guy is making his way over. Simon notices it in his peripheral and he glances down at her, dark eyes meeting her gentle gaze. “You trust me?” His voice comes out gruff, a result of not speaking for hours on end. There’s a pause. A ticking timer between her response and question of faith in a stranger to be kinder than this fuck weaving through the crowd to get closer. “Yes.”
That’s all it takes. Simon stands to his full height now-- fucking hell. It was obvious you were short from when you first walked up to him but now--
You’re a hair taller than his shoulders. And it lights something deep in his chest, a primal ache to protect this small, delicate beauty in front of him. He could never be a shield, can’t imagine it, no matter how hard he racks his brain searching for an image it never comes to him but shit-- He feels like a fucking sentinel standing over you, made to protect you from the evil of this world and it must hit you too. Simon’s infatuated with the surprised look that flashes across your face for a brief moment, taken aback by his stature, how he fucking dwarfs you in comparison--
“Fuck off mate, she’s with me.” Before the creep can get a word out Simon’s already in control of the situation, one of his arms wrapped around her back, his hand pressed against her waist. He can feel her hands gripping at his black hoodie, her small frame easily fitting into his side so precisely that it strikes something in him at how perfect she feels pressed against him--
He’s outside of the pub. His memory is foggy on how he’s suddenly out in the cold air but he feels her small hand, fingers firmly gripping his palm and he can barely fucking feel it from how delicately she’s holding his hand and he doesn’t deserve this doesn’t deserve to be handled so gently as if he’s made of glass what fucking being blessed him with this opportunity--
“I asked you a question, stranger.” Her words are still slurred, body swaying as she guides him to her flat. He moves his arm to wrap around her back, cradling her waist and pulling her against him so she doesn’t stumble. Simon’s eyebrow quirks in curiosity. “What’s that?”
“Why the uh,” she points to her own face “Why the skull ski mask? I mean it’s cool, don’t get me wrong,” Her words start to fade into a whisper, the streetlights enhance the red glow of her blush.
“For robbin' places.” Simon goes for a joke, an amused lilt in his voice and his head tilts down just a fraction to gauge her reaction and-- She straight up cackles. A genuine, chest-deep laugh that physically releases the tension his shoulders. She rests her head against his arm, “Sounds like fun, I wanna come along some time.” Fuck. Ghost wasn’t prepared for her half-lidded eyes that were full of mischief and something more suggestive-- it sends an electric spark up his spine. Creates a warm, liquid burn in his gut just from one look she gave him and fuck he’s curious now. Images flash through his mind quickly like the burst-shot of a camera, how would those beautiful, half-lidded eyes also appear in the more intimate settings.
“Thank you for, you know, walking me home and all.” They’re standing at the top of the staircase into her building. Three blocks isn’t enough to get to know her and all her quirks that he finds himself aching to learn now. “And thank you for being a decent person, and not well, taking advantage.” She scratched the back of her neck, nervously, unable to meet his gaze at the indirect accusation.
“My pleasure.” His voice is like gravel, deep, low enough that if they’d been standing any further apart she wouldn’t be able to figure out what he’d said. Simon turns briefly, only getting two steps down on the cement stairs when she calls for him again. Shit. this is fucking adorable-- They’re eye-level now. It strikes that protective feeling deep in his chest again. “Could I, maybe, get your....number?” The last word squeaks out and it’s cute. Everything about her is cute. A stark comparison to the burly frame of a man wearing all black standing on her staircase. Simon pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket, unlocking the screen and handing it to her. A silent display of mutual trust. He watches her attentively, the way the light from both phone screens reflect in her eyes, how they flicker back and forth between his phone and hers to make sure she got the number right. She hands his phone back, her name in his contacts causes him to huff in amusement-- ‘Nice bar lady’. “No names?” It comes out like a statement but it’s a question. The inquisitive tone in his deep voice affirms that.
She’s unlocking her door when she turns back to him, a teasing smirk pulled across her lips as she steps backwards through the doorframe. “Only on our first date.” The door shuts. First date? Oh. He’s fucked for sure.
-----
There's a war raging inside Simon's head. Two battalion ships circling each other in the vast openness of the ocean. Taking shots at each other for the claim of dominance.
It's about you.
He's been sitting on his deflated couch in the dark of his partially empty flat-- thinking. Brewing. He couldn't be bothered to turn on a lamp once he got through the door because he had to take a minute to process everything. The night's events.
He wants to cut her off. To leave what happened tonight exactly there-- a one time occurrence. His index finger is tapping against the worn denim of his jeans-- a nervous habit. Something that doesn't happen often because Simon "Ghost" Riley is never anxious. Or ever anxious enough for it to appear physically but fuck--
The smell of her perfume is still on his sweatshirt. It's light and floral and it invades his senses until all he can think about is how she looked up at him in the bar when he stood to his full height--
Arousal. He couldn't think of the last time anyone had looked at him in that manner and he wasn't even sure if it was arousal but he can't wrack his brain for a different emotion to describe how her eyes were lidded and the way her cheeks flushed when he stood closer.
But he couldn't...right? His line of work---
Simon-- doesn't allow himself to indulge in the intimacy of a romantic relationship. He doesn't deserve it. The soft touch of a lover is reserved for a man far less tainted than he is. The darkness has already seeped into all of his being until whatever he touches is also tainted by his demons. The demons that have made him who he is. A broken childhood, his decisions and actions he's made in his military career that have lead him to become the 'Ghost'.
Simon wants to rip the hoodie off. To sever the thoughts and what-ifs that spin around in his brain until he's dizzy. But he hasn't. Can't bring himself too. His muscles ache, prepared for the aggressive action but he's still.
The way her small hand clutched to his hoodie, how her fingers dug into the fabric as if he was a life raft and she was drowning. He was her salvation. The thought leaves a bittersweet taste on his tongue, one that he refuses to acknowledge but adores how she found solace in him so easily--
Simon's phone buzzes from his jeans pocket. He shifts his hips up until he can grasp the phone and opens it. A text message from her.
"Hope you got home safe! :) "
He stares down at the screen. The blue light reflects in his eyes as he reads the message over and over. His fingers hover over the keyboard-- this is his deciding moment if he cuts off this new relationship with a beautiful stranger he met or if he gives in to these, in his opinion, emotions that beg to be fed--
But he knows it won't end well. For either of them. Past relationships, when he first joined the military, proved this. The stain of his sins seeps into every person he touches. Every person he opens up too. That's why he found it easier to shut his emotions away. To repress them deep into his soul.
But they're clawing their way out. He can feel it. Can feel his resolve shattering--
Another buzz. Simon focuses his attention back to the phone.
"I mean-- I'm sure no one would mess with you or try to like mug you but ya know what I mean. Sorry I'm still buzzed haha"
This is the moment. The pinnacle of whether he cuts her off. To stop here you have to stop this won't end well please--
"Appreciate it."
He's doomed.
----
Simon doesn't regret it. Even with the demons clawing at his skull to escape his head because this is a mistake--
He can't regret it.
Her smile permeates the forefront of his thoughts. Silences the screams.
----
Simon's called back in on leave. He clenches his jaw until he can feel the tension threaten to snap the muscles. Wheels up at 2100. Of all fucking days--
He's meeting with her for their first date. Simon's opted for something dressier than normal. He's wearing a mask. One that covers the lower half of his face and he opts for a ball cap to cover his hair. He decided on a t-shirt-- one from a tourist spot in Egypt that Soap had bought him just to fuck with him because goddamnit Johnny we're working--
Simon wanted to improve his appearance, to make an impression and not just be known as the grungy guy sitting alone in a pub--
It's an outdoor restaurant. The weather is the nicest it's been in days and the sun has finally broken through the cloud cover. The new warmth combined with the result of previous rain showers creates a blooming humidity that crawls along your skin. It's sticky but it's gratifying in a strange way.
Simon is standing by the entrance. They planned on meeting here. Simon reads over the text to double-check his information was correct.
Simon's breath catches in his throat when he looks up. She's walking up the stairs to him and she's wearing this baby pink sundress and most of her hair is pulled back into a bun except for a few strands that frame her face and her smile--
"Hey stranger." She's looking up at him with a lopsided smile and her head is tilted up to meet his eyes. She's breathtaking.
"Still no names?" His voice comes out as a growl. The gravel of his voice being responsible for it. She's chuckling and grabbing his hand to pull him up to the host stand. The softness of her palm is distracting in the sweetest and most sinful ways.
She's talking to the host. He can't hear it over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears and the rapid beating of his heart--
She doesn't seem to mind his silence. Because she's still holding his hand and leading him through the sea of tables and people alike and all he can see is a beacon. A light leading him through a dark tunnel. She glances over her shoulder and grins at him--
He's fucked. Simon knew he was from the beginning when she first approached him but now he's fucked fucked. He's torn between cradling her gently to his chest and protecting her from the evils of the world and absolutely ruining her--
A large hand wrapped around her throat as he presses her small frame against the sheets of his bed as he fucks into her slowly so he can burn her expressions into his brain that way he'll never forget--
He can imagine it. Hear the breathy little moans that escape her every time he pulls out and pushes in, the whimper when he presses his palm flat against her stomach and he can fucking feel his cock ruining her cute little cunt--
"So do we wanna share names before or after we get our food?" She's sitting across from him with an amused smile that curves her lips in a cute way. Simon distantly realizes that she's studying him. Taking all of his expressions and details in.
"Before." Simon tilts his head a little and crosses his arms over his chest-- a subconscious move to guard his heart.
"You first." She's being cheeky. He can see it in her eyes and in the lilt of her voice. Testing him to see how he reacts--
"If I remember correctly you approached me. You first." Simon is grinning under the mask as he sees a red blush fan across her cheeks. She huffs a little in both amusement and defeat before offering her name.
"Quite lovely. Name's Simon." He furrows his brows as hers raise in surprise. Simon leans back into his chair, the metal creaking in protest--
"What is it?" He quizzes.
"Oh! Nothing! I've just been thinking about what your name would be and Simon never crossed my mind. It's fitting though, way better than my ideas."
"Care to share?" Simon leans forward now, it's cute how she stumbles over her words in embarrassment.
"James was the main one. Henry or Cole was next." She couldn't keep eye contact with him. Not with the way he was practically staring into her soul.
He huffed in an amused manner. Ghost enjoyed the way she squirmed under his gaze. Natural blush tinted her cheeks and she chewed on the plushness of her bottom lip nervously, refusing to acknowledge his heavy stare.
"We should've bet on it." He winks at her and in response she lets out this airy giggle and he can see the tension in her shoulders visibly dissipate.
~~~~~~
Simon didn't have the heart to tell her that he was leaving. Deployed on such short notice. In hindsight, it would've been best to explain his sudden disappearance.
But she was so beautiful. At peace as she sat across from him in that oxidized metal chair and batted her eyelashes at him. Twisted a loose strand of hair around her finger and beamed at him as if he was the sun itself gracing the dark moon with its light. If only she'd known it was the other way around.
Sun-kissed skin and gentle words forming on those plush lips had rendered him silent. Entranced. Not that she seemed to mind his silence-- she continued to ramble about anything that crossed her mind and accepted his grunts and hums as confirmation to a question.
This was going to be the longest month of his life.
~~~~~
A month had turned into two months. With an unexpected change of plans and uncooperative informants, this deployment had been nothing short of hell. The rumbling tremor of plane turbulence has never felt so comforting before. Out of that hell-hole and back to her--. Back to home. Home. His home, his flat. Thoughts of her rushed back into the forefront of his brain and he felt a sharp pang of regret stab him between the ribs in response. Was she still around? Did she leave when he did? Why did he care?
The cold rain that poured down onto the runway shocked him out of his subconscious and back into the present. It soaked through his sweatshirt as he stepped off the airlifter, the soft material easily absorbing the water. The smell of her perfume had faded. If he thought hard enough he could still imagine it was there. But why would he?
Why does he care?
~~~~~
Déjà vu. Simon had taken place on the same chair at the same pub he'd met her that fateful night. Pour Choices. The irony was not lost on him.
This had to have been his third glass of whiskey in the span of an hour. He wanted-- needed to drown his thoughts within the bottle sitting next to him. His fingers tapped deftly on the glass. Anxious. About what he wasn't sure. Or he didn't want to acknowledge the actual reason. The rowdy chatter of the other patrons around him deafened the thoughts that were spiraling into an all too familiar void.
Simon hated this. Hated this self-loathing feeling that was overwhelming him. The regret of not staying ate away at his soul from the inside out. If he still had one, that is.
He didn't deserve her. Simon had known this from the start but now he was grasping at straws to convince himself she's better off without him. She'll find someone better, a far better man than he was. A man who didn't have demons howling in his head and blood-stained hands. One that she could freely see physically and emotionally-- he wouldn't have the need to conceal his identity and hide his emotions in the dark crevices of his heart.
The thought hurt more than it did comfort him. But she wasn't his. She will not be his. He'd make sure of it, distance himself. Plan on visiting another country for awhile. Or maybe he'd accept the next deployment, volunteer even just to quiet the thoughts--
A soft tap on his shoulder. Simon glanced over to the patron.
Fuck.
His eyes widened as he took a few moments to register she was here. In front of him. Surely the alcohol was causing him to hallucinate. What are the chances of--
"What are the chances, huh?" She seemed to read his thoughts. His eyes lingered a little too long on the crooked smile she gave him. Her soft pink tongue darted out to lick them and he could've sworn his entire body had caught on fire from this new unbearable heat. Heat that seemed to linger under his skin and radiate off of him.
"You wanna step outside? It's pretty crowded in here..." She trailed off shyly and my god did he crave to burn that image in his mind. The young woman nervously plucking at a string on the sleeve of her jacket, staring down at the floor like she was afraid he'd reject her.
"Tab." Simon spoke sternly, giving a nod to the bartender in thanks as he stood from the barstool. He could've melted at the foreign yet long-craved feeling of her hands clutching on to the sleeve of his hoodie as they walked out of the pub. The cold night air was a blessing. Fresh air rushing into his lungs and purging them from the smog and lingering cigarette smoke that clouded the pub's interior.
"So, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' is true?" She peeked up at him, most of her vision blocked just from the bulk of his shoulders. Those same shoulders slumped in newfound shame. She released his arm but continued to hold his large palm in her much smaller one. He could feel her stare boring into his temple.
"'Spose so, yeah." Simon's calloused hand gently squeezed hers-- an apology. A silent apology. She hummed in response, staring down at the cement of the sidewalk.
"Do you always vanish off the face of the earth after a first date or...?" Simon visibly flinched in response. He deserved that. She was smiling up at him but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Simon stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk. She squeaked softly when her own momentum pulled her back to him. His fingers nervously tapped against the back of her hand. Contemplating. Mulling his own thoughts around in his brain.
"I was deployed," He watched as her eyebrows shot high up on her forehead in surprise. "Thought it would hurt less if I said nothing."
Fuck. He really fucked up this time. His heart was rapidly beating in his chest in anticipation of her answer because fuck he didn't want this to be the end. Not here. Not now. Simon subtly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, jaw absent-mindedly clenching and releasing.
"Kind of a lose-lose situation then, huh?" She peeked up at him from where her gaze was originally glued to her own shoes. Simon's brow quirked upwards in question, the action barely noticeable under the balaclava. Her head bobbed up and down in an understanding nod.
"You didn't want to disappoint me by telling me you were leaving but you not telling me had the same effect." Fuck, it was like she could read his thoughts. Slipping into his subconscious whenever they locked eyes.
"You at least could've said you were in the military. Your disappearance wouldn't have stung so much." Her lips quirked to the side in a pout.
"I'll make it up to ya. Promise." Simon offered quietly. His thumb rubbed soothingly across the back of her hand. The way her eyes lit up at his words erased every fear in his mind. The dull yellow streetlamps that casted light created stark compositions of shadows on her face. Highlighting her features in a manner that caused the breath in his windpipe to hitch suddenly. Her eyelashes fluttered as she studied him-- surely imagining what he looked like under the mask. Her eyes were narrowed in a playful manner, a mischievous glint in those vibrant irises.
"You uh--, wanna start now? Tonight?" She bit her lip suggestively. He can't remember the last time such a simple action got him this hard this quickly.
Fuck. Fuck yes. Please. Fuck--
"Whatever you want, baby girl." His voice was husky now, having dropped a few octaves. Her cheeks flushed hot and her eyes widened as she blinked up at him. Simon took a step forward-- effectively pressing against her chest and invading her space simultaneously. Her gaze snapped away to some unknown space on the brick wall next to them. Simon cocked his head to the side, observing her shy behavior before tilting her chin up with two fingers. He leaned down to talk directly into her ear.
"Are we going to your flat or should I take you right here?" He grinned under the mask when she audibly whimpered. Her hands fisted into the sleeve of his hoodie as she started walking backwards--pulling him with her.
"Flat. My flat. Please." She whined. Fuck she was cute. Eagerly pulling at his hoodie to get him back to her place. As if he'd change his mind.
Simon studied her as she pulled him down different streets. Her hand was clutching his tightly, though he could hardly feel it-- not only from the sheer size difference but the layers of callouses that have built up on his palms over years.
He couldn't get over the stark comparison between them. She was soft. Soft curves and plush flesh-- even the clothes she wore were soft. A pastel pink blouse that was sparingly patterned with little strawberries across the fabric. In comparison he was harsh. Stark, angular cuts of muscle under marred skin from various scars. He was silent, closed-off in his emotions but she felt like an open book--every emotion easily visible and she loved to talk about every minute detail of what her day entailed.
Simon loved it.
He was standing on the second step of the staircase to her flat-- reliving that moment too long ago. He still found amusement in the height difference when she turned to grab at his hand and they were eye-to-eye. She pulled him with her down the hallways to her flat. Her palms were sweaty-- Simon noted distantly. He assumed his weren't any better. Her hands were shaky as she fumbled with the lock, trying to get the key into the doorknob. Simon leaned down and gently grasped her hand in his-- a soft gasp escaping her from the unexpected touch. He tenderly pried the keys from her fingers and stepped forward-- pressing her into the wood door. Her resounding moan went straight to his cock and made his thoughts fuzzy. He pressed the key into the lock and easily unlocked the door.
"There we are." Simon offered her the keys back. She grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie and shoved the door open to pull him in. Her fingers deftly locked the door before groping at his body under the thick clothes.
"I wanna kiss you." She whined in frustration. She bat her eyelashes up at him and pulled his face down towards her. The keys hit the floor with a metallic thunk. Simon rolled the balaclava up onto his nose and crushed his lips against hers. Both of them moaned simultaneously. His hands slipped under her blouse and squeezed her breasts through the fabric of her bra. She whimpered in response. Her hands clasped together at the back of his neck to pull him closer-- further into herself. Simon took advantage of the position and gripped the back of her thighs and hoisted her up onto his torso--her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He twisted around and pressed her back against the door--groaning in response to the friction when she wiggled against him.
"Hey, hey, Simon-- fu-- Simon wait." He hummed as he pulled back. Fuck. Her lips were red and swollen and her hair was mused from where he'd grabbed it. Pupils blown wide in lust but she adamantly pressed her hand against his collarbone to push him back. Their breaths mingled together in the short space between them, gasping for air.
"I didn't-- Didn't even think about it when I saw you in the pub. I just wanted to see you. Are you drunk? Are you okay to do this?" The way her brows were furrowed in concern warmed the coldest parts of his heart. He distantly pondered the last time someone genuinely cared for him like this.
"Oh, I'm as sober as a nun in church, love." A genuine smile pulled across his lips when she giggled in response. "Couldn't be anymore grateful that I'm sober righ' now." He grunted in satisfaction when she pulled him into a kiss using the collar of his hoodie as leverage. He reveled in the keening moan she emitted when he ground his hips into hers. She pulled back with a gasp, whining softly when he chased after her lips.
"Bedroom." She managed to squeak out before he captured her lips with his own once more. Simon relented and opted to press kisses down the column of her throat. He groaned headily at the familiar smell of her perfume, something floral with warm vanilla, enveloping his senses.
"It's the door on the fuck--, on the right down the hall." Simon was quickly becoming obsessed with the little noises she made and how her skin tasted under his tongue. He nipped and mouthed at her neck as her hands slunk under the fabric of the balaclava and grasped at his hair. A sharp and embarrassingly loud moan escaped him from the feeling. It's been so long, too long, since anyone gripped at his hair like that--
Goosebumps broke out along his skin. Simon hoisted her higher up onto his waist and carried her to the bedroom. She squeaked as he roughly groped at her thighs and ass. He kicked the door open with his boot and tossed her onto the bed, the young woman giggling in response as the mattress bounced from the impact. He toed his boots off-- not noticing she mirrored the action with her own heels. Simon stalked towards her, grasping her ankles and tugging her to the edge of the bed so her thighs hung off the side.
"Shit! Simon--." She moaned when he ground his hips against her again. Testing-- teasingly. Simon started to pull and tug at her pants, his fingers fumbling to undo the series of buttons.
He was shaking. He never considered himself a desperate man. Always taking care of his own pleasure from the lack of a lover. But fucking hell did he feel like a much younger man. Too horny to think about anything but what felt good. Fuck what is she doing to me--
"Who the fuck designs pants like this?" Simon growled as he still fumbled with the buttons. She cackled in response. Head thrown back and a full body laugh that shook her diaphragm. Her hands pushed away his larger ones.
"Here, baby, let's remove our own clothes, yeah?" His cock twitched from the pet name. Simon couldn't tear his eyes away from her undressing. The way her hands deftly unclasped the buttons of her pants and even the smaller fabric buttons on her blouse entranced him. Those hands were nimble and skilled--
"This ain't no peep-show." She smirked up at him as she shimmied out of her jeans. He flushed a little from being caught but at the same time he couldn't really care because she looked so fucking good. Her blouse was pulled off with ease and she was left blinking up at him wearing nothing except her panties and bra. The plushness of her thighs and how her breasts threatened to spill out of their cups thrilled him like nothing else.
She was waiting. Still gazing up at him before giving him a cheeky wink. Simon lifted his arms and pulled his sweatshirt and muscle-tank off in one movement. He tossed the clothes to the side and caught her staring now.
"Fuck me--." She breathed out. Simon smirked in amusement, but he still quirked a brow in response. Her soft hands reached out to touch him, feeling across the firm muscle of his abs and pecs and the softer pudge at his tummy and waist. Fingers traced over the scars that had been marred into his skin from combat. Mostly from combat. She gave his pecs a teasing squeeze and she giggled as he huffed in response before lifting her further onto the bed by her waist. She fell onto her back and watched Simon as he leaned over her, hands on either side of her hips.
"The mask stays on?"
"The mask stays on." He gruffly confirmed. Both of them studied the others body for a brief moment. A cheeky smile pulled across her rosy lips.
"I thought the mask was for stealin'? What'cha stealing here?"
He blinked at her. Those obsidian pools traveled languidly down her body before settling at the crux of her thighs. His gaze flicked back up to her own. She audibly swallowed in response. Simon lowered himself further, nipping at the sensitive skin on her hipbones before biting and sucking love-bites into her thighs. Her barely restrained whimpers and timid gasps only spurred him on further. Thick fingers pressed against the wet spot in her panties, he groaned out a string of curses from the delectable feeling. The fabric easily sliding with his movements from the amount of slick there was. She gasped out his name and her hand shot down to clutch at his balaclava.
Calloused fingers gently pulled at the band of her panties and pulled them down slowly-- his eyes never straying from hers. The young woman mewled as she met the intensity of his gaze. Dark brown eyes that were nearly swallowed whole by the void of his pupils in wanton desire.
"Fuckin' hell, love." Simon groaned heavily. His eyes were now locked on the glistening lips of her pussy. She squeezed around nothing at the sound of his moan. Simon pressed a single finger against her bud before sliding down and teasing her opening. Her hands clutched at the sheets and his shoulders, leaving red crescent marks in the supple skin.
"I--fuck! Please, Simon, please." Her brows were furrowed and lips parted as she watched him between her legs. He rumbled in appreciation from her wrecked gaze.
"But you sound so good beggin', love." Simon dipped the tip of his finger into her walls before sliding it back out. Tease. She whimpered in defeat, unable to word her frustration at the lack of touch she craved. The swipes of his thumb against her clit were too much and not enough at the same time, her hips twitching away before pressing back against his hand.
"It's a good thing I'm a giver." Simon rasped as he pressed his index finger into her and sucked her clit into the warmth of his mouth. He reveled in the sharp gasps that escalated into keening whines as he curled his finger.
"Fuckin'-- so wet for me, love." He rumbled against her labia. The squelching noises caused her face to burn brighter. Simon's left hand traveled along the curve of her hip and torso before grabbing a handful of her tits. A litany of whimpers and unintelligible words escaped through her kiss-swollen lips. Simon added a second finger, scissoring and curling them inside her walls to open her up. His tongue flicked languidly against her clit. Simon's fingers pressed up and curled against that spongy spot of nerves that made her see stars.
"Mmph! Simon! I wanna--please, let me let me--." She was begging for that sweet release, unable to form the words verbally that she had perfectly assembled in her brain.
Simon growled lowly, eyes practically narrowing into slits as he focused on her pleasure. His thumb swiped across her clit quickly and he curled his fingers once more--
Blinding white. The hot embrace of Nirvana shot through her veins and warmed her from the inside. Her legs quaked and hands gripped at Simon's arms to ground herself. Simon's lips were pressed against hers roughly-- the feeling barely registering as she came down from her high.
Simon sat back on his haunches, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth and sucking her tanginess from them. He grunted as his eyes rolled back into his head. "Best fuckin' dessert I've ever had." She was quick to clutch at his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him-- moaning softly at the combined taste of his mouth and her cum.
Simon grumbled against her lips as he fought with the buttons of his jeans, becoming agitated towards the restricting fabric. Simon huffed as her lips trailed kisses along his jaw and down the column of his throat. Her hands were tangled with Simon's as she tried to assist him, finally pulling the jeans down enough for her to slip her hand past the elastic band of his boxers. Simon's resounding moan shot desire straight to her core as she grasped his member, her cunt fluttering at the response.
She whined softly at the feeling of his already leaking cock, the precum that had dribbled from the tip aiding her in stroking him. Simon leaned his head down and buried his face in between her breasts, relishing the feeling of the plump flesh and the silk and lace bra. His hand slipped under her torso and to her back to rid the fabric. She gasped at the feeling of Simon working his fingers against the clasps, undoing them with shocking ease. Her hand squeezed around the base of his cock subconsciously which earned a pleased moan from the large man.
"Slow--slow it down there. I'll fuckin' bust if you keep that up." Simon growled as she repeated the action purposely this time, winking at him cheekily and the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. Simon ripped her hands away from his body and pinned them to the mattress above her head. He shucked his jeans and boxers off before kicking them across the room with a concerning amount of force.
He stared down at her for a second. Processing the image in his brain. This beautiful young woman, hair a tangled mess, pupils blown wide with lust, purple and red marks littered across her skin. She squealed as he suddenly hoisted her up onto his waist, her legs wrapping around his torso and arms draped around his neck out of reflex. Simon maneuvered her to be sitting in his lap, facing away from him and instead facing the--
Oh.
Her jaw went slack in realization as she stared at her own reflection in the closet door mirrors.
Fuck-- she was small. The size difference was obviously apparent but seeing it in the reflection of the mirror shot a hot spark of need straight to his twitching cock. She looked perfect perched in his lap-- like his thighs were made to be her throne. Her delicate skin a stark contrast to his war-hardened skin, sinewy muscles versus the plump flesh of her thighs and tummy. He ran a single hand up her stomach, passing through the valley between her breasts before settling on the column of her throat. The needy whine that escaped her when he gave a testing squeeze to her jugular made his mind go fuzzy.
Simon grunted when she rocked back against him, his cock sliding between her slick folds. He pressed kisses against her shoulder blades and his large palms kneaded her hips.
"You ready, baby?" Simon breathed against her neck, nipping occasionally. She nodded rapidly in response as she tried pushing her hips back against him again. His firm grip kept her still.
"Use your words, pet." Simon's left hand pawed at her breast before pinching at her hard nipple. She gasped in response.
"Please, Simon, please. Need you." She watched him in the mirror, eyes wide and pleading for him to do something. He tsked and shook his head in disapproval. His left hand traveled to her other breast and continued its ministrations. He thrust his hips against her mockingly, the tip of his cock prodding at her entrance but never breaching it.
"Tell. me." Simon growled as his eyes darkened. Obsidian pools that threatened to swallow her whole. The hand around her throat squeezed firmly. She whimpered from the pressure and the way her mind went fuzzy.
"Simonnnn, please! I need you to fuck me, please fuck me. I want you inside me, please." She cried out in pleasure as he slid his cock into her with one fluid motion. Simon let out a choked noise from how easily her cunt took him. She whimpered and mewled as he ground his hips against her shallowly.
"Good girl." He grunted when she squeezed around him at the praise.
"Oh? You like being called a good girl?" He smirked at the mewl and squeeze of her walls around his intruding cock. The soft grinding of his pelvis against her ass turned into rough thrusts that bullied the crown of her cervix. The slap of flesh against flesh and wet noises echoed in the room. He watched their reflection in the mirror. Enamored by it. How her plush skin jiggles with each punctuated thrust. How his figure dwarfs over her and how his hand easily wraps around the span of her throat. How his thick cock thrusts into her tight hole and how he easily manhandles her to fuck upwards into her cunt.
Pliable. Protected. A wave of possession flooded his brain as he fucked into her impossibly harder. She is his. He won't leave her again. Not willingly. Price will have to personally come find him and drag him to operations from now on.
"Fuck, close, baby, so close--." Simon hissed through his clenched teeth. The strength of his massive palms bruised her hips from how tightly he gripped her. Every moan of hers was punctuated by a rough thrust. White hot pleasure settled heavy in his gut, his cock twitching fervently.
"Fuck! Simon!" She cried out suddenly, her walls fluttered around his cock as her orgasm hit her unexpectedly. He came undone from the reflection. Her jaw slack, brows furrowed and body quivering from the sparks running through her nerves. The mixture of their combined cum running down her thighs and dripping onto her sheets. Simon bit down on her shoulder, a sorry attempt to muffle the embarrassingly loud moans that echoed in his chest.
It's like their bodies were in sync: chests heaving for breath, Simon sat back onto the mattress and she settled in his lap, muscles trembling from the lasting pleasure. Simon nuzzled into her neck, his tongue laving over the bite mark he'd made. She hissed softly from the sting. His arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her into the hard planes of his chest firmly. Possessively.
Simon has been waiting too long for a woman like her. He'll be damned if he lets her go now.
