The Zombie Apocalypse with MCR (Complete)

Animal Urges

"I know-" I frown, because he's staring at me, expectant and confused. "I know I'm not... Pretty. You don't have to undress me."

He reels back, flinching harder than I did. "Are you being serious?"

"Scars aren't exactly nice to look at." I glance down at my exposed skin, at the pink and purple and silver marks. There are slashes, and scrapes, and mottled, warped areas of flesh. Burns and tears, violence and damage. And of course, there is Alissa's stab wound, spider-webbing over my pale skin, black and ghastly.

Frank pulls back, up onto his knees. I move to sit up too, to close the distance between us, but his broad hand against the pane of my stomach keeps me flat on my back. I'm left bare and exposed to his gaze. Which is... Dark and hungry. His cheeks are scarlet, his breathing uneven.

"I'd find that funny if it didn't make me so mad," he murmurs, and his fingers scrape over my skin. From the unyielding pane of my stomach, to the sharp jut of my hip, along the curve of my waistband. I'm finding it hard to breathe. "I've never met anyone so obviously beautiful in all my life. It's distracting and it's annoying. I can barely think about anything else when I'm around you."

"Fuck off," I try to put some force behind my words, but they're a breathless exhale.

His fingers are sliding over my ribs, and he's drifting, with purpose, towards my chest.

"And the first time I showered you, when we were on the bus and you could barely stand," he speaks like I didn't, and he's looking at my face - hot with embarrassment - and at my breasts. "I felt like a fucking monster, because I wasn't supposed to be looking at you like that. You were bleeding and exhausted, and all I could think about was where I'd put my mouth if you'd let me."

"Shut up, Frank." I demand, mortified, but I can't move. I'm pinned by his gaze, by the light, gentle scrape of his fingers. One hand grips my waist. The other slides onto the hill of my breast and circles, tortuously slow, around my peaked nipple.

"And at Stonehenge," he continues, and his voice is hushed and almost reverent. "I was so caught up in the moment, I didn't even undress you properly. I was astounded and confused, I couldn't bare to take it slowly. I was fucking desperate to just-... Consume you, I guess."

"And now?" I prompt, and I almost want to shut my eyes against the wild passion in his gaze.

His eyes flick up to meet mine, and he smiles. "I still want to devour you, love. Now I've got time to enjoy it."

Heat floods my lower stomach. My muscles, my insides, everything goes too taut. I have to jam the heels of my palms into my eyes, just for a small reprieve to the intensity of it all. I bask in the dark, and I hear his chuckle from a long way off, and then he puts his mouth on my chest, and I have to smother a groan.

"Careful," he murmurs, and the word ghosts over my throat. "Everyone will think we're fighting in here."

I couldn't give a shit what they think, not when Frank is peeling my leggings down, yanking my underwear off with them.

His mouth trails from my chest to my stomach, and he lifts my knees onto his shoulders, and he lowers his face to press his mouth between my thighs.

I gasp, and make an effort to quiet myself, but the pleasure that floods through me is immediate and overwhelming. Heat gathers in my chest, and sweeps down into my lower belly. Pressure builds as he kisses at me gently. Warmth and wetness gathers as he licks, and then sucks hard.

"Frank-" I mutter, hand sinking into his hair.

He hums, and it thrums all the way up into the base of my spine, and I arch.