If Only (GxG)

Chapter 43 Turning Tables

A/N
🎶Softcore by The Neighbourhood🎶

『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV

The kiss turns hotter, sharper — all heat and hunger and need. I press her back against the mattress with a deliberate grind of my hips, swallowing the low sound she makes. Blake clutches at me like she can't get close enough, but I don't let her flip us — not tonight.

I deepen the kiss, insistent, possessive, my hands framing her face like she's mine already. Because she is. Every shudder, every gasp she gives me goes straight to my head, to my heart, to the desperate thrum between my legs.

Blake's fingers flex at my waist — the barest twitch of instinct — and I feel her hesitation. Not because she doesn't want this, but because giving up control doesn't come easily for her. Even now, she fights it without meaning to.

I break the kiss, panting slightly, my forehead resting against hers. My fingers slide down the elegant line of her throat, feeling her pulse thrum beneath my touch. God, she's beautiful like this — flushed and wrecked and trying so hard to hold on.

I find her gaze — dark, wild, wide.

And I don't let mine waver.

"You're gonna pick a safe word," I whisper, firm and steady.

Blake blinks, momentarily thrown. And then — she laughs. A low, delighted, wicked sound that curls in my belly.

"Someone's confident they'll get their way tonight," she murmurs, eyes glinting.

I smirk, but I don't let myself lose focus. Don't let my voice shake.

I trail soft kisses along her neck — slow, reverent — the contrast between my heated hands and gentle mouth making her shiver beneath me.

"We won't do anything you're not comfortable with," I murmur against her skin, my breath hot against the hollow of her throat. "But something tells me..." I press a soft kiss just below her ear, feeling the hitch of her breath, "...that my hot, terrifying, beautiful, dominant girlfriend likes to let go every now and again."

I pull back enough to see her face. Her pupils are blown wide, her chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths.

"And if I happen to be right," I add, voice dropping to a rasp, "I'd like to be prepared."

Blake stares at me like I just reached inside her ribcage and touched her heart.

For a second, she doesn't say anything. Just watches me — like she's trying to memorize this version of me.

Then she smiles — slow, real, the kind that melts something in my chest.

"Feather," she says, voice rough with feeling. "My safe word's feather."

I kiss her once — soft but sure. "Feather," I echo.

And this time, when I claim her mouth again, she melts beneath me.

Just trust.

Just us.

The kiss deepens, sharp and messy, all teeth and need.
Blake's hands skim my waist, trying to pull me tighter, trying to take over — but I don't let her.

I pin her to the mattress with my hips, catching her wrists and pressing them gently into the sheets. Not hard. Just enough to say, Not tonight.

Blake lets out a low, dangerous sound against my mouth. Her body thrums with tension beneath me — like she's seconds away from flipping us, pinning me, reclaiming control.