L. Thorns

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I didn't think I'd find myself in this position again. Genuinely. In my mind, I had it all planned out.

We'd finish this mission. Get rid of the chips and everyone involved. I'd say my goodbyes, gaze locked a little bit longer on Soap before I'd turn my back and walk away.

Would it be painful?

Undoubtedly. But it would also be temporary.

I'd think about him for about a week as I'd try to get everything back together at Spike with no one but myself. Then, after about a month, it would start to feel less and less like a wrong choice to not give in.

Give it a year, and his name wouldn't even pop back up in my mind again.

Two years, and I'd struggle to recall the finer details of his face.

That'd be the end of it, I thought.

I hoped.

I had never imagined I'd find myself in this position again, especially not from a decision made by myself.

Because that's what he offered me.

He told me he'd leave me alone if that's what I wanted, and I know he'd keep that promise. And it should be what I wanted. It was what I wanted. At least a small part of me.

But my made-up defense was futile against his words. Somehow, he knew exactly what to say to penetrate the wall I'd been trying to build up, shattering it in the process as if it were made from the thinnest glass known to men.

And the thing is, I believe him. Fully. I know he's not just telling me the things I want to hear. The way his lips capture mine with a need he'd been forced to hold back tells me more than I need to know.

His arms are wrapped around me tightly, one behind the back of my neck and one at the small of my back, trying to keep me from escaping again. His skin is fucking burning, and the heat transfers to sit beneath my own skin as he continues to kiss me like it's the last time he ever will.

I know it's not.

I won't let it be.

A gasp escapes me as he pulls back for a short moment, quite literally needing time to breathe from the intensity. "Alex," he says my name in a plea, like he's trying to check if I'm still there.

"I'm not going," I reply in a whisper, foreheads leaning against one another as we can do nothing else but breathe.

His lips linger just inches from mine, as if he's savoring the taste of our shared breath. I feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest, the steady drumming that matches the tempo of my own erratic pulse. With a gentle tilt of his head, he closes the distance between us once more, his lips crashing against mine with a soft grunt.

I respond eagerly, pressing myself against him as our kiss deepens, becoming more and more desperate by the second. His hands roam my body, tracing every curve and dip with a hunger that leaves me breathless.

As our lips part again, a soft moan escapes me, but he catches it with his mouth.

Urgency takes over.

Soap's hand threads into my hair and he crushes me to him even tighter than before. I gasp when the feeling of my bottom lip being sucked into his mouth comes unexpectedly. My hand grips the back of his neck and I dig my nails in until he grunts and drives his tongue deep into my mouth, demanding more from a kiss that's already deeper than I've ever known before.

I forget about all of the thoughts that tried pushing him away and I let myself get lost in the moment.

My hands find the back of his shirt, balling the fabric into my fists as try to get him closer. I feel the need to touch him, feel his bare skin against my palms, and so one of my hands slides under the bottom of his shirt.

Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]Where stories live. Discover now