Hotter than Hell II Eric/OC II Part 8 II
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Whole Story.
University tutor Eric AU, in this chapter things heat up, again. I hope you guys enjoy!
Music was blasting so load that at first, she did not hear him. This did not continue long, of course, Eric was an impatient man, she had learnt that in the short time she had known him. When she did not answer his first knock he all but attempted to knock the door down.
If she had not turned off her music and answered when she did he would likely have come crashing through. But answer she did. Opening the door to her apartment to find him leaning casually against the frame, no sign of the humungous effort it would not doubt have taken to make such a racket on his face.
“What…” She was shocked to see him there. This was her home, and they had never before met outside of the university. All their sex had taken place in his office, apart from a few run ins in abandoned class rooms which made her cheeks hot. “How do you know where I live?” She asked him.
“Oh, so you do talk?” He pushed past her, eyeing her apartment, expression completely blank. “I dropped you off here, remember. I’m not an idiot, I can find my way back to a place I’ve been before.” He lifted a hand, catching a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, “especially when it contains something I want.”
She slapped his hand away, trying to step away from him, but his hand shot out, catching her wrist, and pulling her back towards him, “I’m sorry about the comment on your essay.” He told her, she barely came up to his chin, and when he had pulled her this close she had to crane her neck to look up at him, “That wasn’t funny.”
She gulped, struggling to remember why she shouldn’t just grab his face and pull it down to her. “You only want be because you can’t have me” She told him, her voice shaking. “So?” He asked, grip tightening on her wrist. “I’m no use to you if we won’t get in trouble.” “So?” He asked again, bringing them chest to chest now. “Your aggressive and cruel and you’re going to get me in trouble.” He grinned, “Now you’re just trying to turn me on.”
It was the grin that broke her. That stupid self-satisfied grin, her hand had wrapped around her neck before she knew what she was doing, pulling him down to her.
He swung her round, pressing her flush up against the door, slamming it shut, and closing the possibility of him leaving with it. He loved the way she seemed to melt under his touch, giving herself over to him entirely. He reached down, his hands cupping her thighs as he lifted her up of the ground. As if by instinct her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, pulling him even tighter against her.
Her fingers were tracing his face, leaving scorch marks everywhere they touched, he could still feel her anger, as her teeth captured her lower lip. He could not help the low groan as she did so, and he felt her smile as she released him. Her hands moved down his neck, pressing their way under his shirt. He shivered at her touch on his chest, leaning his hip, and the impossibly hardening weapon against her.
Their clothes were in the way, terrible shields keeping them from each other, he was desperate to tear them away, to push through ever barrier separating her from him. He could not do so here, however, so he lifted her up, one arm wrapping underneath her ass, so soft and malleable against him, and carrying her to the bed. His head was buried In her neck, sucking hard on the skin there, leaving her mouth free to coo in that beautiful way he had become accustomed to her.
He was desperate for her, desperate for her touch, her voice, her soul. It had killed him when she ignored her today, killed him to have to listen to the opinions of others, the nobodys, when she was so close by. How dare she deny herself from him, in one of the few moments he got to enjoy her, how dare she lock away that beautiful mind, contained in that devastating body. He wanted her physical form, that was undoubtable, but he would happily break it, destroy it, for access to what was inside, the strength, for it was more valuable to him than anything else he had found before.
None of this could be said aloud, of course, she would not want to hear it, she would laugh at it, think him weak and stupid. To say it outload would destroy any hope the two of them have. For clothes were nothing compared to the rules that were trying to tear them away from each other. He could not tell her any of what he felt, but he also could not keep it in. It was too much, it would not be contained, and so it seeped out of him, seeped out of his body, as it fought to tell her what his words could not.
She had made quick work of his shirt, pulling it over his head, before pulling him back down to her, capturing his mouth with those lips, perfectly shaped to fit his own. His own hands had found her skirt, pushing impatiently at it. It was standing between him and his goal, and Eric had never let anything stop him from getting what he wanted. Finally, he had found her, fingers pressing against her, as if afraid of losing her, whilst his other hand came down to tug at his belt.
Finally, he released himself, instantly driving himself towards her. His head fell back as she sheathed around him. His mind screaming, his body exploding with one simple thought: mine.
His hands found their natural resting place, in the curves of her thighs, as he lifted her legs up, using them to drive himself further and deeper inside of her. Mine. Mine. Mine. His body screamed with that simple thought with every thrust. All mine.
Her hands were curled in his hair, driving him on, as he buried his head in her breasts, erratically kissing and nibbling on the tender skin he found there. The gasps he could hear above him, timed with each agonising thrust of his hips, were music to his ears.
One of her hands released his hair, coming down to grasp on of his ass cheeks, nails digging in deliciously painfully, driving him home harder. He could feel her convulsing around him. Determined to feel the full strength of her he allowed her to roll them over.
She was atop him now, thighs gripping his hips, one hand still pulling on his hair, the other steadying herself on his chest. She rode him expertly, still half clothed, head thrown back in ecstacy. He allowed her to set the pace, staring up at her in wonder. Her hair fell lose about her shoulders, framing her face, flushed and sweating. It very soon became to much for him, as the two of the came together. Releasing from the frenzy they had built up as one.
He pulled her down to lie on top of him. Burying his head in her hair. Inhaling the scent of her, so fresh against him.
His good by kiss was rough, lingering. It had thrilled him, she knew, to have to chase her. He wanted to be angry at her, to get riled up. By ignoring him she had given him exactly what he wanted. Deep down she had known that. That was probably why she did it.
@iammarylastar @oswinoswaldappreciationlife @fuckthatfeeling @kenzieam @myrosepetal @nijiru @madstrawberry1