Oct 4, 2020
kenji won’t stop sending these to nazeera (a playlist)
she has blocked him.
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from Singapore
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from United Kingdom
kenji won’t stop sending these to nazeera (a playlist)
she has blocked him.
swear they smell the blood on me
shatter me | aaron x ella, fix-it fic, untimely inappropriate smut (ao3)
this fic takes place during imagine me and contains spoilers don’t say i didn’t warn you
[takes place during imagine me. title from “blood on me” by the sampha]
***
He unbuttons my shirt, his deft hands moving quickly even as he kisses my neck, my cheeks, my mouth, my throat. I cry out when he moves, his kisses shifting down my body, searching, exploring. He pushes aside the two halves of my shirt, his mouth still hot against my skin, and then he closes the gap between us, pressing his bare chest to mine, and my heart explodes.
Something snaps inside of me.
Severs.
A sudden, fractured sob escapes my throat. Unbidden tears sting my eyes, startling me as they fall down my face. Unknown emotion soars through me, expanding my heart, confusing my head. He pulls me impossibly closer, our bodies soldered together. And then he presses his forehead to my collarbone, his body trembling with emotion when he says—
“Come back.”
***
It is gone.
The blinking blue light is gone, rid of it, snatched out from my forearm like a parasite. Yet the blurriness remains.
I am screaming to get out.
There is someone inside of me clawing at the edges, fighting for freedom.
Who? Who?
Who is he?
The boy kneels next to me. I am still bare on my front. He made sure of that, when he ripped my shirt open. When he pressed his naked heart to mine.
And I want it back.
Because that touch, that heat, it woke me up. Rippled my soul until whichever girl lives within my skin figured a way to reach out, to yell. I need it.
“Touch me again.”
Green eyes, emerald glitter, widen at me. He breathes hard, and the heat of his body might as well still be on me.
I don’t move from where I sit, petrified. Blood oozes down my arm but the cut heals quickly. I need him with a desperation I’m not sure I’ve known before. “When you touched me, I remembered something.” He tugged me out. He is the answer, the key to help me unlock the Juliette trapped inside. My eyes turn supplicant. “Please.”
Please help me climb out.
His name, I search for his name when he smoothly crosses the few inches between us, grips my arms, pulls me to him, and kisses me again. One after the other, he kisses me like
like
the edge of the world
and I remember it. The tether. The line connecting us. He is the only emotional through line in my life that ever made sense. He's the only constant. I thought this once.
Him. His name.
I kiss him harder, whimpering against his lips, begging for myself to claw out. He hears me, pulling back to gasp and look into my eyes.
“You,” I say with tears. It is all I have, and he understands.
He nods. I notice his eyes are glassed over. With impressive strength, he swoops me into his arms and stands at the same time. My eyes fly open while he moves us back to the metal table, lays me on my back on it.
“You,” he whispers back to me. A hand runs down my neck, across my collarbone, at the side of my breast and down to my hip. His movements are not soft or exploring. He knows me. Each place he touches flares up.
My voice is meek when I whisper: “Help me.”
He presses down on me again, and a bird with golden feathers flies through my mind. Both his hands go to mine, putting them over his thundering heart. “Home,” he says, and he’s said this before, and he’ll say it again. As many times as it takes for me to remember.
“Home,” I repeat. My hands are shaking.
He kisses my wrists, one after the other. When our chests meet for the second time I welcome it more openly.
There is static on my mind, that slight shift in sound when you’ve hit very close to a channel, to voices. Close, but not quite. It comes back to me, a second name, not his but mine.
Ella?
She is Ella. I am Ella. Caged.
I gasp.
The boy (mine shouts a thought) clutches me so tight it’s hard to breathe. “I’ll help you,” he promises. “Anything for you love. Anything. The world.”
My eyes water. The thin veil draped across my memories is breaking my heart. “You.” You are the world, shouts the voice within me. “More.”
I shatter him with a single word. More, I asked him. He trembles, arms vibrating against my sides. I hear him cry out and before I know it, his mouth is traveling down from my neck, my collarbones, falling into a familiar path. His lips close around my breast, sucking on my skin.
My entire being is on fire.
The meld of sensations has me losing my mind, crashing common sense, and I’m not sure if his hand going down my pants are an illusion or reality. He knows my body better than I do right now, and how can that even be?
He’s been here. He’s always been here.
The brave hand of his strokes me in such a way that leaves me breathless, eyes and mouth open as I keep staring at him. His face is pleading, begging, lustful. “You know me. I’ve been yours for as long as I remember.” His fingers send a jolt through my body and I jerk, pressing my nipple back into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to suck it again, in earnest and I go blind.
Training rings. Linen sheets and soap.
He moans with pleasure against my body, drawing another mewl from me. His hand, it’s making me go crazy. My groin is drenched, my body electrified as I come closer to the edge.
He stops kissing my chest to look up at me. “Who am I?”
I want to know. So badly.
Our gazes meet, where he sees I don’t yet have the answer. My bottom lip trembles. His eyelids fall closed, pain etched on his face. His fingers stop, and I’m left dissatisfied, abruptly abandoned.
“Don’t,” I beg. I guide his hand back down my body with my own, desperate for him. But he doesn’t resume.
He kisses my lips, my jaw. “I’m right here.” I’m not at all prepared when he bites down, marking my throat and filling me with a cocktail of desire and pain. When I look down to see his face, I notice he’s undoing his pants. My eyes spring open.
Green irises nail me into place, forcing me to feel his movement as first his pants lower down, then as he works on my own. “Who am I?” he demands, his voice deep and close to me. He tugs down my clothes, taking every article, leaving me naked to his touch.
“I...” I begin, “You... I know you.” And the utter hopelessness I feel at this stupid cloud over my thoughts brings water to my eyes.
He says no more, perhaps afraid to. But our bodies are singing, more than ready for each other. This, I realize, is where I belong. My mind’s racing but my legs don’t hesitate to widen, to open for him and pull him close. My arms wrap around his back, my forehead touching his. My soul screams Who are you? Give me the key.
“Please,” he utters against my lips. “Come back to me.”
He slides inside me and I feel one of his tears hit my cheek.
And it resonated with me, harder than before, what he meant.
Home. This, us together, my body welcoming his, making room to fit inside, this is what he meant. It was a fact as undeniable as sunrise.
We gasp in unison, overwhelmed with heat. I’m blazing within, heat sparking where we touch. Ella climbs her way out, close to being free.
I moan, letting him hear it. My mouth drops open, perpetually open, my eyes never breaking from his.
When he thrusts for the first time, I know then that we are synonyms. Pertinent to each other, the impossibility of naming him without me. We fit perfectly.
A frenzy overtakes us, rapid fire traveling across the place where we’re together. He moves into me with intent, hitting the right places as if to mark me. To show me just how well he knows me. His forehead digs into mine, and his eyes close briefly as he grunts, keeping the pace slow but steady.
The feeling of him gliding in and out of me is flooding my nerves with sensation, with joy and ecstasy and ear-shattering screams to remember, remember, remember. I can’t remember ever feeling this incredible.
He hits a certain spot inside me that makes me jolt again, losing my senses, but when my head moves from the dizziness he won’t let it. My face is trapped by his hands, the strength of him keeping me from moving. He won’t let me go, won’t let me look away. He wants me back.
Him. It comes back to me.
A cold room and a warm embrace. White walls, his warmer arms around me.
And
I think my heart is going to explode.
Ignite, my love. Ignite.
My heart is yours. Please don't ever give it back to me.
Aaron.
Forever, Aaron. Of course.
When I start crying his eyes turn hopeful.
“Aaron,” I say it with the finality of fate, with the love that unravels from my heart at the sight of him. “Aaron.”
There is rapture, there is joy, there is relief and love in his face. “Yes.” He clutches my face harder, digging his forehead to mine.
He won’t meet my eyes anymore, the feeling too intense. Sobs keep coming from me, the mess of my memories swirling and tripping out.
“I remember you,” I cry into his face.
He starts fucking me harder, deeper.
My voice shakes the next time I say it. “I remember you — Ah!”
My words drive him mad, drive him to move into me more fiercely. “Yes. Aaron.” Even though his movements are hard, his voice is pleading. “I’m Aaron, love. Your Aaron.”
I want you to call me Aaron.
How could I not have known? So many times?
He and I, we meet again and again, and it was always bound to end like this.
I start to fuck him back.
Aaron meets my every shift, synchronizing our bodies flawlessly. He hits that place, the one that ignites a high-pitched sound from me, over and over. Soon I’m a shrieking mess, the slap of our skin creating a rhythmic clapping that lulls me over the edge. I break apart, laid bare, my hips curving to his as I ride it out. During that bliss, that small taste of nirvana, another memory comes barreling to me. An important memory.
Oh my God.
Aaron pauses, slowing down. He breathes hard into my cheek, smiling. The look on his face tells me he’s not done yet, confirmed a second later when he flips us over. I must wear shock on my face at being on top, by the look he gives me.
“What else?” he asks. I know what he means. What else am I?
He doesn’t lay back, doesn’t expect me to take the reins and pleasure him. Instead Aaron stays close, hugging our fronts together as he sits on the table with me straddling his lap. Hearts hugging.
Close. Close like that night, at the tent home.
Marry me.
If there were any tears left in me I would’ve shed them. I run a shaking hand through his hair. His gaze roves over me like I’m his only salvation, like I alone command sunlight and miracles. One hand runs down my spine, the other planted on the table behind him to steady him. He starts to move, to thrust into me from below. The sensation destroys me.
“My husband.” I suddenly find those tears, feel them drip down my face. “You wanted to be my husband. You asked me to be your wife.”
Ella. You’re going to be my wife.
She comes soaring out, the girl I used to be, the Ella and Juliette hidden under this skin. I gasp and throw my head back, screaming once.
He hugs me through it, through the greatest moment of clarity I’ve ever had, and only after do I register the heat. Building up for a second time, clenching my stomach. Sparks course through me as he urges me to make love to him back. As I comply.
My hips press down onto his, following the rhythm. We kiss hard, desperately, my tears and his mixing and wetting our faces but we do not care. I sob again, from the pain of losing him and the joy of having him back. Soon I’m panting hard, pressing my cheek to his, letting him hear what he does to me. I swing my hips back and forth, back and forth, making us both groan, making me see colors in my field of vision and beg for this not to end. He feels so good. He’s thick, long, and hard inside me as he pumps, as he fills me completely each time. I might be losing my mind after all.
He grunts loudly, pressing me closer to him and quickening the pace. “I asked you to marry me. And what did you say?” he asks. His breath hits my collarbone.
The change in pace leaves me breathless. “I said...”
He takes the opportunity to thrust into me even harder, even quicker. His hands behind my back and at my hip move me so I can only surrender to this, to us. It’s not long before I start screaming.
“Yes!” I go. “Oh, yes. Yes!”
I yell it, shout it into his shoulder as we come together with floor-shattering perfection. He shakes harder than me, his entire spirit revealing itself as he clings to me, as he keeps calling for me.
“I love you,” he whispers into my chest as we breathe hard together, recovering. “My one and only. You came home.”
afraid that my love will terrify you — for aaron and ella ( listen )
“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”
“That you could love me at all seems like some kind of miracle.”
She smiles, even as she shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous,” she says. “It’s very, very easy to love you.”
But they were always drawn together. It was obvious, every time he put them in the same room, they were like” — Delalieu claps his hands — “magnets.”
“Justice, son.” Anderson is staring at me now. “I’m talking about justice. I like the idea of setting things right. Of putting order back into the world. And I was waiting for you to arrive so I could show you exactly what I mean.”
feel like i am breathing
shatter me | aaron x ella, post-defy me, massage smut (ao3)
[takes place in sector 241 pre-imagine me. title from “a little death” by the neighbourhood]
The lotions on the stand gave her the idea. Ella had never used lotion or oils before...at least none that she remembered. And the thought slowly crept into her mind, causing intrigue and excitement.
Aaron came back into their tent, a bit tired but nevertheless happy. Happy to see her, to be with her, to hold and touch her with the freedom of the sky. He stepped inside, smiling at her, and began to remove his blazer and belt.
“Done for the day?” she asked.
“Sure am, love.” He couldn’t help but smirk devilishly. “I’m all yours now.”
Ella bit her lip. “Funny you say that. Because...” she neared the edge of the bed, “I wanted to try something with you.”
Aaron’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He could feel her emotions, the nervousness and excitement, and coated over all of it, the love. That thick, unrelenting love.
“Would you elaborate?”
She did. And after some coaxing, bribing, and many light kisses, he finally gave in. Aaron suddenly found himself bared down to his underwear and shirt. He was face-down in the middle of their bed, hugging a pillow, head tilted to the side so he could breathe. To his right, Ella sat in just a shirt and shorts, squirting something labelled “eucalyptus oil” on her hands.
She began on his neck, starting slow and careful, rubbing her coated hands along the exposed parts of him that his shirt didn’t cover. At first contact with her skin, Aaron already had to suppress a moan. Ella inexpertly massaged at the skin, slowly building up pressure and searching for reactions. Her hands slid from the middle of his head, coating his blond hair with oil, down the rest of his spine, pressing down with her thumb along the way. He groaned.
“Good or bad?”
Aaron’s eyes were drooping. “Good, love. I...wow.”
She smiled, repeating the motion.
“Ella, sweetheart,” he said a bit timidly, “you can go harder.”
At that she blushed, but Ella found herself full of joy. It felt incredible to make him feel good, to soothe his pain. She dug into his skin, rolling over the center of his neck with her thumbs, using a bit of her power for strength, and each time, Aaron found himself closer and closer to sleep. Even the smell of eucalyptus was pleasing his senses.
Ella stopped. She knew what she wanted to do next, but had to find the courage to say so.
“Aaron, love...will you take off your shirt?”
He froze. Laying still, a feeling of dread spiked through his body, twisting his stomach. His scars.
But Ella radiated nothing but love. Nothing but tenderness. She would never do anything to hurt him, and he already promised himself to allow her every part of himself.
So slowly, he lifted his body up, running hands up his torso with his shirt, and hauled it off. Now he wore only underwear.
Aaron felt a kiss at the side of his head, a sweet small kiss. “Lay down,” he heard. He did.
Ella studied his scars, gaze lingering on them. There were so many, so permanent. How much pain must they cause him every day? Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Determined, Ella grabbed more oil into her hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. She took a seat on Aaron, resting on his thighs. Then, with the frailty of a bird, ran her hands over his back.
He stilled again.
She didn’t stop. Her hands explored his body, running up and down his exposed skin, covering every inch of him with the liquid. The scars stayed, as they always would, but she prayed that this would dissipate the hurt. She quickened her pace, loosing fear, drawing parallel circles on his shoulder blades. After that, Ella spent some time giving attention to his spine, being gentle, only grazing the bones in light soothing touches. Then, feeling him still unable to move, she planted a big kiss at the top, at the base of his neck.
Aaron let out a soft cry. She could not see that there were tears in his eyes.
Ella didn’t care that her lips would coat in oil. She kissed her way down his spine, leisurely. When she got to his hips she stopped, resuming the massage. Now that he was accustomed to the feel of her hands, she got to the real work. Putting her knuckles to use, she bore down on the parts of him that felt harder, tighter. She rubbed up and down, drew circles, and pressed with with her thumbs. She even grabbed handfuls of his skin and lightly pulled, as if grabbing the entire muscle, all across his back. And her fiance was making noises.
What Aaron was feeling was unbelievable, He was relaxed beyond reason, beyond memory, scars forgotten. Ella’s hands were sending static through his skin, pleasure through his bones. He found himself drifting in and out of sleep.
“Talk to me.”
He barely could. “It all feels so good,” he replied.
Ella’s heart was full. She massaged his back for half an hour more, exploring the tense spots and willing them to soften. Her super-strength was used, kneading diligently on the unyielding muscles that showed no signs of ever being tended for, bearing down with force. He never seemed to mind, or show any pain. In fact in these areas, the densest ones, Aaron moaned the loudest. With each release, he settled deeper and deeper into his pillow, groaning and mumbling with gratitude.
When it all seemed done, she climbed off him. “Other side now. Turn around, Aaron.”
He almost felt like saying no, too blissful and relaxed, but ultimately did as she said. Aaron rolled over, lazy as a cat, facing up.
She studied him. Her fiance, the love of her life. He looked so happy, so peaceful. And attractive. His torso uncovered, open for her to devour with her eyes. His muscles there were deftly defined, the skin bright and inviting. Skin she had touched, had licked, had felt moving next to hers. Heat filled her all of a sudden. And if she felt it within her, so did he.
Aaron sensed the change, his expression turning serious. He watched like a hawk as she removed her shirt, breasts bear. His mouth watered. Then, Ella took off her shorts and underwear, tossing them to the floor. He felt his muscles tighten, his groin hardening. His lips parted calling her name.
She grew hot with want, but restrained herself. Blush covered most of her body now, yet she could wait. Ella hooked her fingers at the corners of Aaron’s black underwear, and started to tug.
“Lift your hips for me, love,” she whispered to him.
His breathing stopped.
All clothes were gone, and it was just him and her. She climbed over him, sitting on his thighs just below the apex of his legs, their hot groins desperately close but not touching, and noticed how Aaron was fully ready for lovemaking. Inside, she laughed maliciously.
His hands were settled at her hips. Aaron loved her more than anything, and was ready to show her. Yet to his utter surprise, Ella grabbed more oil from the bottle, ignoring his advances, and slathered his chest in more eucalyptus.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. She only smiled. Ella massaged his upper torso until he got the hint and rested back down, his eyes never leaving her. Again, her hands kneaded the muscles of his chest, working her way down, excruciatingly slow. Her eyebrows knitted in concentration.
This time Ella did something different. She leaned over him, stretching to reach the furthest parts of his collarbones and shoulders, and kept leaning forward until her bare front was touching him. His skin on hers was slick and incredibly warm. Ella's breasts pressed against his chest, smudging her in oil, her stomach touching his. Aaron let out a loud sigh.
But it was only for a brief moment. Ella sat back up, ran her hands over him. Then she did it again, leaned over, letting her nipples press on him, their bellies together, then sat back up. Every time she got the chance, she did that, let her body fit into his for a brief second until even she began to shine with a thin coat of oil.
“You’re teasing me,” he whispered from parted lips. His hands went to her back, intent on pulling her to him, and she pushed them right off.
A devilish smile adorned her face. “Don’t interrupt a woman at work.” Then kept massaging him.
It was important that she put special care in each stroke, in each movement. Ten long minutes passed before she reached his lower abdomen, the muscle hard and hot.
Without fear, Ella took more warmed oil into her hands and grabbed at his member. He gasped, and she tried to act as nonchalant as possible.
“Ella, love...” he groaned, eyes closed.
“Shhh,” she reprimanded him. “The massage isn’t over yet.”
Aaron shivered at the words.
Indeed, this would be excruciating. Ella was truly curious about him, as much as she was yearning for it inside her. She quelled that desire, running her hands up and down him, taking turns with one hand and with both.
“Ella, please,” Aaron said, hands going back to her hips and tightening.
“Do I have to tie your hands to the bedpost?” she asked.
The stunned look on his face alone was worth it. Ella smirked. “Please don’t move. I want to take care of you. Let me do this, Aaron.”
He just couldn't say no to her.
With a look of pain on his features, Aaron willed himself to relax and pressed back on the bed.
Ella grabbed his cock again, determined to learn what her husband-to-be liked best. With one hand, she swirled over the head, moving in quick circles, as the other hand ran up and down the shaft.
Aaron failed to keep quiet. He held a fist to his mouth, biting down.
Ella then decided to interlock her fingers, her hands fully circling him, palms concave to make as much room. She jerked him off this way, picking up speed.
“Oh God,” Aaron bit down on his hand harder. He was shaking all over.
The movements were eliciting a small, wet sound. Almost like a tempo. Ella found this all so incredibly amusing and very much educational. Against her better judgement, she laughed a little bit.
He threw an arm over his face, covering himself.
She switched once more, trying out new maneuvers, watching what he liked most. Hands upside-down, stroking him slowly. Swirling fast circles all across the shaft. Slow strokes from the top to the bottom of him. Crossing her arms and jerking him off with her hands switched backwards. Then, finally, she went back to circling over his tip, a second hand working the rest of his cock, which he appeared to like very much. If she thought of it, she tried it.
“Wait,” he pleaded her, but she picked up the pace.
Yet she seemed to have underestimated herself as Aaron suddenly moved harshly under her, his hands gripping her hips like steel, her name escaping his mouth in a whisper-scream. Liquid began to run down through her skin, covering her fingers.
He came.
She sat there stunned for maybe five seconds, unsure of what to do.
“Ella, Ella,” he panted, barely able to speak, “I'm sorry. Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry.”
Her eyes met his, saw the horror and tinge of shame covering them. It broke her heart. Why would he ever apologize for this? No, she wouldn't let him feel bad. In a swift motion, she moved off, sitting at his side.
“Stop it. Stop, Aaron.” She looked deep into his eyes, making sure he understood her words. “This is what I wanted. I want to love you, to pleasure you,” she told him with determination. Her hands grabbed his member again, her body filled with resolve. Aaron looked like he was losing his mind.
“Look at me,” she said.
Green eyes met blue eyes. Hands started to stroke over him again. One of his hands went to her left wrist, grasp tight. His breathing still heavy.
“You like this?” she teased, ignoring his iron grip, fingers moving over his tip, willing the muscle to grow hard again. His wet come coated the head, the whole length, making it easier to work on him. The hand on hers tightened.
“Oh my God Ella.”
Her eyes bore into him. “Am I doing a good job?”
“What are you doing to me,” he whispered to both her and himself.
“You're already hard again.” She said this as her lips grazed the head of him, barely a touch. Her hands massaged him faster.
His arm covered his face once more.
She frowned. “I told you to look at me, Aaron.”
He was going crazy. This was definitely a pipe dream and he had no idea how to wake up. Aaron uncovered his face and looked at her, his entire body trembling.
Without a second to lose, Ella had no doubts in her mind when she drove his cock into her mouth.
If she thought he was loud before, he was now outright screaming.
She worked him hard. Ran her tongue over every inch of him inside her mouth, hands caring for what she couldn't fit in. She sucked him, hollowing out her cheeks, bobbing up and down. At each stroke, she moaned with him in her mouth, knowing he would feel the trembles from her throat.
He had no words. None at all. The sky could be breaking over his head, the ground parting to raise hell from below, and Aaron would have no idea. He had never felt anything like this. She’d taken him into her mouth before, only not like this. Everything was heightened.
Ella gazed up at him from her position. He was so beautiful. So racked with pleasure, driven mad, so filled with desire, and utterly and completely hers.
He was hers. She took him deeper into her throat, feeling him at her neck.
“Enough,” he moaned.
Enough indeed. Slipping him out of her mouth, Ella let out a tremendous yelp, panting. Like a madman, like a person falling off a cliff, like someone clinging to the edge of the world, she climbed over him, desperate. In fast, quick movements, she sat over him, guiding his hard wet cock to her entrance, pushing it inside her.
They moaned in unison.
She wanted to stay in control. To move over him slowly, to take her time and build pressure together. She should've known Aaron had other ideas. That she pushed him far enough. Teased him too much.
He was no longer patient. Aaron hoisted her up by the hips, digging his feet steadily into the bed, and showed her a piece of his mind.
He thrust up into her with undiluted speed and force, chasing down a climax. His thighs slapped hers, the sounds permeating their tent. His hands at her hips kept her in place, kept her from moving. Control was his now.
"Oh my God," she screamed. Her hands rested on his moving belly, trying to hold on to anything. There was nothing she could do but take what he was giving her.
He rammed into her relentlessly. Both their bodies were greasy and shiny with oil, easing their movements. They glistened in the dim lights of their home.
“This is what you do to me,” he said desperately. His sense was long gone. Seeing him this unhinged for her only drove Ella closer to the edge, coated her in lust and pride.
“This.” He shoved into her hard, hands forcing her hips down to meet him.
She let out a shriek.
“This,” a harsh thrust, “and this,” another thrust, “and this,” another.
With each prod, she felt herself leaving her body. Her hands left his stomach, raised it to her sides, completely clueless as to where to put them, how to move. This was wrecking her in the most angelic way.
He resumed his quick pace, hands going to her breasts, caressing her in quick squeezes. “Yes,” she howled, eyes closing, losing what was left of her composure. He tugged at exactly the right places, and she almost there, so very near it...
Once he felt her climax come closer, he switched tempo again. He resumed the hard jolts, slower but more powerful, pausing after each.
She could’ve sworn she went blind for a second.
“Please,” she cried.
A sharp thrust.
“Please,” she begged.
A harder one.
“Please!”
Harder still.
He kept fucking up into her earnestly, every jab pronounced, his grip hauling her down to meet him. He growled each time he filled her.
She was there. It was there and so damn close she could almost touch it—
“Aaron,” she shouted.
He thrust one last time, screaming with her. Shattering together. Crash and ruin and deliverance at once.
He stilled, hands at her sides bearing her down, freezing her in place. They stayed like that through their releases. He wanted every inch of him to fill her body. For her to feel how he belonged there, how flawlessly they fused. More than anything, that warmth that made him feel at home every time, surrounding him as they crashed down.
His fiance fell on top of him, body heavy. Neither of the two could breathe properly, could talk. There were no words. There were simply no words. They didn’t need any.
Long after, minutes or even hours later, when her strength came back, she kissed her way down his neck and slid atop him again. She rode him once more, unhurried this time, as she originally planned. There was no rush, only the sweetness of their union, until both came again and weariness rushed in like a tumultuous sea, sinking them into a heavy sleep.