How it happened, you'll never know.
You just know that the position you find yourself in is a position you hope to repeat sometime in the near, near future.
"It's another right, Steve!" You roll your eyes at him for having to give directional aid.
"I got it! Jeez," he huffs and shakes his head. He pulls into the parking lot of the Hideout, eyeing the building with a skeptical look. "This place?"
"Yeah," you nod, grabbing your bag to pull over your head, "come on." You look at him and tilt your head, "Don't look like that. It'll be great!"
Eddie was having one of his shows tonight. It is the first one you have ever been to. Eddie had to be there early to set up, so you made Steve take you and insisted he watch the show, too. He agreed only because he wanted to support his friend with his best friend...but also because you threatened to cut his hair in his sleep if he didn't.
He follows you out of the car as you both walk into the building. It looks like a punk spot, with spray paint graffiti—on both the outside and the inside—and posters of bands and sexy women lining the walls. The lights are dim to keep the spotlight of the small stage significantly more important. There is a bar on the side across from the stage and the audience is a little bigger than you expected from what Eddie had told you.
You don't see him as you walk in. It's the first thing you do: try and find him. Steve walks closely by your side, as if he's your own personal bodyguard. You believe he's convinced that he is your own personal bodyguard. You let him believe it, whatever makes him happy.
You don't end up finding Eddie—which doesn't surprise you. You and Steve go to the bar and grab a couple of drinks to hold you over until the concert starts. On the small stage, the instruments belonging to Eddie's band are set up and ready to be played.
It is a while before the concert actually starts, but you aren't disappointed when the announcer makes his kind of half-hearted introduction of the band. You're pretty sure you are the loudest person when the applause for the band ensues as each member walks onto the stage.
You smile up at Eddie when he stands center stage. He's as handsome as ever with a Corroded Coffin tee (one that matches your own and Steve's), paired with his leather-jacket-denim-vest combo and the bandana you gifted him forever ago wrapped around his forehead. You can tell that he searches for you immediately, finding you just as fast.
You wave at him and then blow him a kiss, which he catches with a cheesy grin and presses to his chest. He steps up to his mic when his guitar is placed over his shoulder. "What's up, Hawkins?" he greets with that large smile you can never get enough of.
The crowd is good tonight—albeit small, it's a step up from five drunks. They cheer and respond as excitedly as a Hawkins crowd can. It helps that a few other friends are in the audience to support him. "I see some familiar faces." His gaze finds you again and he winks as he continues, "And some really pretty ones, too." You playfully roll your eyes at him.
He finishes up his small intro, choosing not to stall too long before he finally starts the performance. The first song is an original, one you helped him write when he asked you for inspiration. It turns out, you had been the inspiration because he only really started writing chords and lyrics when you began aiding him. Hearing it being performed now really brings into perspective how much this song was written for you.
It's when Eddie goes into a guitar solo, fast and impassioned, that you begin to get distracted. You're lucky Steve is too caught up in the good music to notice you because you are definitely not cheering excitedly anymore.
The way Eddie handles his guitar, the way he plucks and strums the strings with skilled fingers. It makes the room ten times hotter than you found comfortable. You aren't spared when the solo is over and the rest of the band comes back in for the chorus because his hands continue to strum hypnotically.
Eddie looks up as he plays, eyes looking to find you to see if you were enjoying the show. He was intrigued to find that you are trained on a very specific part of the show that he had not realized would be highlighted as much. You look as though you had been put in a trance by the way you stare at his hands.
The song comes to a close as the crowd erupts in cheers for the band of punks. It breaks you from your trance and you begin to clap and scream for Eddie again. Steve nudges your shoulder with a smile, "You're right, he's awesome."
"I told you!" you respond after you shake away the last dash of your hypnosis. "Worth the threat, right?"
He shrugs a shoulder, "I still would've preferred you not threaten my hair, but sure." You nod with another smile and look back at the stage as the guitar picks up to start the next song. This one is a different one, not one of Eddie's own writing but one that you know to be one of Eddie's favorites—Master of Puppets.
You always encourage him to play it at one of his shows, but he always insists that the band isn't quite ready for it yet. You take it as a win as you watch him begin the song. He only looks at his guitar for a few seconds before he nods, confident enough to look away as his eyes lock with yours.
Great. Now you know that he notices you.
The dark look in his eyes as he stares you down and plays is enough to tell you exactly what he was thinking. He saw you staring at his hands, he saw you squeeze your thighs together, even if you hadn't even noticed yourself doing it. You can't help but to bite your lip, pulling it between your teeth. You give him a smile and a wink to try and distract him. It only works a little bit as he turns his attention back to his guitar while the rest of the band picks up.
But Eddie is already forming his plans in his head.
~
Driving back home with Eddie is interesting. He has a smirk on his face the whole time as he stares slyly out of the windshield. It's relatively quiet, aside from your occasional chatter about the performance. It puts you on edge, has you closing your legs too tightly when he gives you a certain look.
You feel warm, very warm. He knows this, and it only makes his smirk grow.
When you finally reach his home, you help him move some of his equipment inside. He's uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, it doesn't help your nerves. After everything is put away, he curls up with you in his room, pulling you between his legs and wrapping his arms around you to pull your back against his chest.
It's a nice moment, intimate and close. You blush madly, enjoying the feeling of his warm embrace. His lips come close to your ear, brushing against the shell and making you shudder. You can feel his smile against your skin, you can hear it in his voice, as he speaks. "What was your favorite part about the concert?"
You shift, bringing his arms to wrap around you tighter as you shrug with a smile. "Definitely watching you shred that guitar." You bite your lip teasingly, "It was amazing."
He smiles wickedly, you don't have to see it to know. His hand splay over your stomach as his other arm comes around your neck and rests over your shoulders. "I could tell," he says. "I saw you staring at my hands. You were practically drooling."
You knew you had been caught. You saw it in the way he looked at you when you locked eyes before. Him telling you know, especially with the position you are in, set your body on fire. You hold your breath as he continues to speak, his low voice rumbling in your ear.
"Did it excite you?" he wonders. His tongue darts out to taste your skin. You shudder. "I could tell it did. Do you like my hands?"
You try to hum, but it comes out as a whimper as you mold against him. The sound is helpless, nearly pathetic. His large hand comes to rest on your shoulder, brushing against the side of your neck. Again, you whimper.
You can feel him poking against your back. The damn bastard is already hard, excited by the idea of you being fascinated by his hands. "What do you want, hm? You want me to touch you?"
You hum, giving no verbal response as you simply nod your head. He shakes his head with a soft tut. "Words, sweetheart. Gotta use your big girl words," he purrs.
"Yes," you whimper.
"Where do you want me to touch you? How do you want it, hm?" His questions set your body on fire. "You want me to put my hand around your throat? Or grope these amazing tits? Or do you want me to stick my fingers in your mouth, or maybe in your pretty little pussy?"
You moan this time, your chest heaving at his words. "Yes, please."
He laughs, "Well, which is it? I've only got two hands, sweetheart."
Damn him and his stupid fucking antics that prevent him from giving you what you want, what you need. You blush, face flushed deep and way too warm.
"Come on, you gotta tell me what you want, babe," he coos.
You huff out a breath, your words fumbling as you try to form them. "I want...you to...want you to..."
"C'mon, tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," he promises, biting your earlobe as he whispers the words against your neck.
"My... My tits...want you to touch them," you say. Your voice is barely above a whisper, a shy little murmur of words that makes Eddie want to pepper you in kisses and praise you for being a "big girl". You continue pathetically, "And my neck."
He beams, lust-blown eyes watching you adoringly. "That's a good girl. I can do that."
And he does. He takes your breast in his hand, squeezing and groping, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching. His other hand wraps around your throat, his fingers settle over your neck to feel your pulse thumping and slipping under his touch. And then he squeezes, just a light constriction that makes you moan.
You stretch your neck, allowing him more space as his hand perfectly fits around your throat. You raise your own hand to grasp his wrist, tensing as you whimper. "Tighter."
"That's right," he smirks, as if he's remembering something. "My girl likes it rough."
The way he says "my girl" is possessive, a proud statement of his adoration for you. He holds you tighter—your tits, your throat—he pulls you to him like you're the only thing in the world he needs.
He pulls his hand from you just for a moment, before tucking it under your shirt and grasping the front of your lace bra. In one quick, rough pull, the bra snaps off of you and you gasp, "Eddie!"
He silences you, smacking his lips over your, using his hand around your throat to pull your head back, resting it on his shoulder. He kisses you deeply, roughly, teeth and tongue clashing as he devours you. And you let him, moaning against his mouth when his hand squeezes your breast, pinches your nipples.
His warm hands and cold rings press into your skin. It feels like heaven. You're already dizzy and gasping, begging with your body for him to fuck you. But you know he won't, not yet. He enjoys toying with you too much. No, he's going to take his time. He's going to make you beg, make you scream for him. He isn't going to give you what you want until you do what he wants: become a sobbing mess of pathetic pleas for pleasure that you know only he can grant you.
He pulls away from your lips with a smack. Your eyes stay closed before he suddenly whispers in your ear. "Look."
Your eyes flutter open and you look at his blushing face, but he's not looking at you. You follow his gaze across the room where you see a mirror. You hadn't noticed it there before, you feel stupid for not noticing it.
The sight of you is erotic, flush against him with your legs spread wide, his hand cupping your neck and your breast. A fresh wave of arousal washes through you at the sight reflecting back at you, locking onto Eddie's dark gaze through the mirror as he drinks you in.
"Look at you," he coos. "So pretty." You flush under his praise, breath catching in your throat when his teeth tug on your earlobe. You bite down hard on your lip, and your eyes flutter as he pulls you even tighter to his chest. One hand sweeps down from your breast to rub over the black ink in your skin for just a second with a deep groan before returning to your tit. Your eyes land on it, the only tattoo on your body that you had. Eddie's name in dramatic serif and black ink embedded into your skin. It always drives him crazy whenever he sees it, a tattoo you decided to get in honor of his own.
With his hand holding your throat, he pulls your head back up so you're watching. You moan his name, whisper it like a prayer as his head buries in the crook of your neck. He kisses along the skin of your throat, his teeth grazes and his tongue laves the veins hiding beneath your skin. The sounds he makes directly into your ear are all naughty, they're sinful and they make you drip while he gropes you harder. "So needy," he whispers.
His fingers flicking your nipples soon aren't enough. You're needy, growing more and more needy by the second. His hands on your skin are perfect, but now you need them somewhere else. Somewhere closer, somewhere deeper. "Eddie," you mewl. "I need more."
"More?" he responds, like your demand is entirely absurd. "What do you need more of, hm?" His hair tickles your cheeks. You feel his warm, wet tongue glide along a large patch of your skin. It was no kiss and it was no kitten lick as the languid muscle quite literally laps you up like a man dying of thirst.
"I want..." you struggle to get the words out, flushing once again as you grow self-conscious of yourself against him. You repeat the words, trying and failing to force them from your mouth. 'I want you to fuck my pussy with your hand.' But the vulgar words just make you squirm, they make you want to hide your face in his neck and never come out. But you know he's going to make you say something, you know he won't let you hide away from him. He'll make you declare your wants to him so that he may deliver, even if he already knows exactly what it is you want from him.
"What do you want, baby? I can't help you if you don't tell me." He whispers the words into your ear, pulling back only so he can look at the side of your face as you breathe shallowly while still gripping your hand tightly around his wrist.
Your voice is such a quiet little whine that he honestly cannot hear you. "Want you to...touch my pu..." You can't even finish the word, too shy to get the word out. It wouldn't have mattered if you'd gotten the word out, you're just too quiet. Even with his face only inches away from your own, you go unheard.
He loosens his grip around your throat, even if he knows for a fact that his hand isn't what is making you so quiet. "What was that? I couldn't hear you. You gotta speak up."
You whimper pathetically before you lift your voice just enough for him to catch a whisper of your words. "I want your fingers...i-in me."
You feel his smirk against your skin when he dives down back into the crook of your neck to taste your skin again. You feel like candy the way he licks you, like a lollipop that he's ready to devour. "Where?" he breathes against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your lobe.
You hum uselessly, still struggling to find a word that doesn't make you want to hide away. He helps you out a little, "Your mouth? Do you want me to shove my fingers into your mouth, sweetheart?" You melt against him and can't help but nod. It isn't what you had in mind, but you'll be damned if you pass up the opportunity to taste his fingers, to suck on them as he pushes them as far down your throat as he can manage.
"Please," you say, too desperate, too pleading.
He smiles and does exactly that as he lets go of your throat, "Okay. Open wide for me."
The way you drop your jaw makes Eddie's cock twitch against your back, poking against you through the layers of his pants and your clothes. It's too fast and too wide, and he has half a mind to put his cock in it instead of his fingers. But he doesn't. You asked for his hands, so he would give you his hands.
He groans and licks his lips, his tongue lingers on his bottom lip as he focuses on the way a line of drools already slides down your chin. You're far too eager than you should've been, and he wants to fill your ears with a string of dirty words and half-hearted insults about how desperate and how pathetic you are for him. But he doesn't. He just gives you what you want.
You feel two thick fingers rest over your bottom lip first, sliding in deeper to sit on the top of the tip of your tongue. You push your tongue out farther as a silent beg for him to give you more. He obliges and slides his fingers in deeper. His second knuckles brush past your lips and your eyes flutter shut.
"Close," he orders, tilting his head up and shaking some of his hair from his face. You do as you're told, wrapping your lips around his knuckles and closing your eyes in the process. He feels as your tongue wiggles in your mouth, pushes involuntarily against his digits to taste him.
"Suck." The single word is nearly a growl, deep and primal in his chest as he stares at you with lust blown eyes. He clenches his teeth as you instantly respond, suckling on his fingers as you wet them with your saliva. You moan mutedly, melting again. His eyes close and his head falls back. How he wishes it was his cock your pretty lips were wrapped around right now, but his fingers would do just fine—for now, anyway.
"God, you are amazing. Look, baby," he groans. Your gaze finds the mirror again, and you raise a hand to wrap around his wrist again. Your middle and index fold against his and push gently. Eddie complies with the movement and furthers the length of his fingers into your mouth. He moves, slow, paced, and deep into your mouth. The metal of his rings nearly sting against your warm lips, the tips of his fingers brush against that part of your mouth that is so close to your gag reflex, yet so far at the same time.
You moan once more, a very muffled version of his name mumbled around his thick fingers. "Don't worry," he breathes into your ear. "I'm all hot and bothered, too."
You'd already known that—with the way his dick is pressing against your back so harshly, you'd be a fool not to know—but his admittance just makes it so much harder to contain yourself, and you suck. You suck his fingers deeper into your throat, pull his rings past your lips and cover them in your spit as his hand shifts just enough to be able to push just enough down your throat that you would have gagged (if he had not already done so much training for your throat already).
Saliva runs down your chin and wets your lips. The sight makes you clench around air. The palm of Eddie's hand is practically drenched. He's so hard by now, gripping onto whatever he can (which just so happens to be your poor breast, as his nails dig into your skin so deliciously) to stay grounded enough to not end his teasing so quickly and just fuck you. He wants to draw this out for as long as he can, reduce you to a mess of sobs.
But you're just so perfect.
He curses under his breath multiple times as he watches you suck his fingers in deeper. "I bet you'd be even worse if my fingers were covered in your cum, huh?" he grunts naughtily into your ear. You shudder, your core throbbing as he continues to hold the upperhand. You nod to answer his question, sliding your tongue between his two fingers and licking the skin that stretches there.
He huffs. "I'm going to be nice to you, sweetheart," he mutters. "I'm going to ask you a question, and all you have to do is nod or shake your head. Alright?" You nod, eager to please. His lips brush against the shell of your ear once more, dragging along the skin there to make your whole body shudder. "Do you want my fingers in your pretty little pussy now?"
The moan you let out is too deep to be considered a moan. It bounces off your chest and rumbles there desperately at his words, which had set you on fire. You nod so quickly, you make yourself dizzy. You yelp around his fingers as his lips wrap around a large patch of skin and his teeth bite.
As your lips fall open, he removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine, but he quickly silences you. "Hey, I'm just switching you out, baby," he smiles. Then he chuckles. "Not that I think you need help."
He replaces his fingers with his mouth and kisses you, devours you as he moves his hand from your breast and uses it to push your pants and matching set of underwear off of you. You shiver as the cool air of his room meets the burning throb of your pussy. The palm of Eddie's dry hand strokes along your inner thighs, teasing and taunting you as it inches closer and closer to where you need him most.
He distracts you as you move closer still to his lips. You gasp when his wet fingers make a long line up your pussy, tracing along you and seeing just how wet he'd made you. He smirks and chuckles, puffs of air blow against your face. "You're dripping, sweetheart. Keep watching."
You reach out and take his lip between your teeth as he strokes you. He breaks the kiss, almost reluctantly, and turns your head to face the mirror. The way you moaned was nearly identical to the sounds of those pretty girls on Eddie's VHS porn tapes. His middle finger, still clad in his rings, pokes at your hole. Your breath speeds at the anticipation. He drags out the moment for a long time, tapping and circling to taunt.
When you whimper that tiny "please" that slips through your lips, Eddie finally abides. His finger slips inside of you, sinking deeper into you inch by torturous inch. You hold your breath in your chest, gasping when the icy touch of his ring brushes against you. Watching each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, was hypnotic, to say the least.
He silences you by slipping the fingers of his other hand into your mouth. They push down and tap on your tongue, thrusting in and out in time with his now pumping finger in your pussy. You moan around him, closing your lips and suckling just as his thick finger curls.
A second finger joins the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curl. You moan and find yourself grinding your hips into his palm.
And all too quickly, he removes his hands from you. You whine and he just shushes you again. You hear the clattering of metal against wood as Eddie takes off his rings, and your eyes linger on how wet they are. He doesn't leave you to writhe much longer before his fingers are thrusting into you again. His fingers push deeper inside of you.
Eddie buries his head in the crook of your neck. His tongue licks you again, his teeth nibbling and biting to mark you up as his. He whispers things into your ears, encouraging you along as the palm of his hand grazes your clit. When his fingers spread, you whimper and push your tongue between the two fingers in your mouth as well.
The sounds he makes in response have you gushing around him. "Jesus, you're amazing. You like suckin' on my fingers while I fuck you with my hand? Hm?"
You nod, whimpering something unintelligible around him. He feels your hand suddenly twist behind you, squishing between both your bodies and cupping him. He nearly gasps when you press your palm against him through his pants. There's a tent there that makes the both of you breathless..
You watch as he brings his lips to hover next to your ear, whispering lowly. "Yeah, you feel that? You're making me so hard right now."
That knot in your stomach begins to build, to tighten in your abdomen as you feel the sparks of your release. His thumb presses against your clit as he feels you clenching around his fingers. The sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of you are sinister, they make your eyes roll back and your breath stutter.
You whisper his name, moaning at the flurry of sensations rushing through you. He nods against your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he watches you through the mirror. "I know, baby. Go on and cum for me. I know you want to."
You do, and you do it with a shout. A gasping breath rips through you and you toss your head back over his shoulder, flexing your jaw as loud and breathy moans tear through you like a symphony of pleasure. Eddie watches you come undone with trembling thighs and curling toes. He groans and thrusts his fingers deeper when you clench around them, dick twitching against your back as you gush.
He shushes and whispers in your ear as you come down, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and pussy and smoothing them over your thighs, smearing your spit and release all over your skin as he calms you again. You're a gasping mess as you lean into him, dizzy and tingly.
"That feel good, sweetheart?" he whispers in your ear. You allow a breath sigh to slip past your lips when you feel his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh as he squeezes. "Feel all nice and fuzzy?"
The way he speaks to you was so gentle, teasing and almost taunting. You nod, giving into his words as you look at him over his shoulder and beg him to kiss you. He does, leaning forward and allowing you that pleasure. When he pulls back, he gives you a malicious smile, "You wanna make me feel good, babe?"
You nod, fucked out and eager to please as you lick your lips. "Yes," you say.
He smiles, "Good girl. Get on your knees for me." He helps you sit up on shaky legs, your knees digging into the mattress below you as he presents you in front of the reflective glass. It looks so naughty, you completely naked and dripping and he's fully clothed with hands covered in you. His cheeks and neck are flushed red, his messy hair is messier, tangled on his head. He's pretty.
He kisses the back of your neck and uses his hand to smooth down your spine, lowering you gently so you are holding yourself up on your hands. He admires the view of your body before him, your curves so deliciously laid out for him. He pushes your hair to the side and touches the tips of his finger to your shoulder blades, tracing them appreciatively before stroking down your spine once more to reach your ass.
He gropes and grabs handfuls of flesh, squeezing you until your skin flushes red. Both of his hands touching you, his thick fingers prodding your skin greedily, make you moan helplessly. A yelp rips from your throat when one of his hands smacks you out of nowhere. The sound is sharp and loud, makes your skin sting and turn into ripples of pleasure.
He smooths his hand over the area he's marked and chuckles lightly. "Sorry," he says half-heartedly, "I couldn't resist."
You feel the bed shift as he slips off the bed. You follow his movements, watching him pull his shirt over his head and discard his pants. Still in black boxers, he reaches toward the counter and picks up a hair tie. He combs his fingers through his messy hair, watching you watch him as he puts his hair in a bun. He walks over to you, bends down and lifts your chin with a knuckle. "Wanna see your pretty face," he tells you, placing a peck on your lips.
The sound of fabric sliding against skin has your body tingling in anticipation before the bed shifts again. You bow your head, waiting with bated breath and moaning when his hands find your bare skin again. Eddie's body bends over yours, his hand coming to wrap around your throat just to cradle you. His lips graze against the shell of your ear and he places a gentle kiss there before he whispers, "Are you ready, sweetheart?"
You nod, and he tuts. "Uh-uh," he says. "You gotta use your words, baby. You know better. Do you want me?"
Again you nod, this time with a pathetic little moan. "Yes, Eddie," you say. "Yes, I want you, please." Then you feel his smile spread over his face as he kisses the back of your neck. Another "good girl" has you weak for more reasons than just your fresh orgasm.
Then he pushes himself inside of you, and you gasp once more. He fills you up, makes you feel nice and full as he pushes in inch by delicious inch. With the arousal and cum lathering your pussy, there's no resistance as he slides in. His hips press into your red ass and he bottoms out with a mix of a groan and a whimper. He twitches inside of you, and your limbs tremble in response.
"You gonna be a good girl and moan for me?" he asks, breath blowing out in puffs into your ear. You respond with a moan, earning a delightful smile from Eddie. His chest pulls away from your back and you miss the warmth of his skin as it is replaced by the chill of the air in the room.
His hand presses against the back of your skull, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls your head up. You nearly go limp at the sensations rushing through your body with that one little pull. "Look," he tells you. You find yourself in the mirror, biting your lip hard at the sight of Eddie behind you as you hold yourself up on your hands and knees. His tattoos stand out against the expanse of his skin as you eye the tattoo of your name near his V-line.
You had told him that it was cheesy when he brought the idea up to you, presented a bunch of what-ifs he never let you finish when he told you he wanted to get it. He just pressed his lips to yours, told you he loved you, and then set up an appointment. Then you got his to match. Staring back at you now, it warmed your chest, made you all fuzzy and tingly in a lot of places. It's like a claim, like a reminder for him to know who he belongs to, as yours is for him.
"I want you to watch me ruin you, sweetheart," he breathes. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes," you keen.
Eddie beams, and then begins to move again. He pulls out, slow and agonizing as his cock drags against your walls. It makes you writhe, makes you clench and whimper for more, more, more. But Eddie knows what he's doing, he knows just how to play with you. By the time he's nearly fully out, nothing but his tip poking at your pussy, he shoves himself back in with a rough thrust that makes you see stars.
You cry out, fisting the sheets as you hang your head. He pulls you back up to look again, makes you watch as he does the same thing over and over again, building in pace and force as he slowly becomes rougher. One hand wraps around your waist, holding you tightly as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.
Soon, he's fucking into and sending delicious shocks of ecstasy through your body. Your legs are a trembling mess, your arms are slowly dwindling in the strength they need to hold you up. You have lost track of your moans, you can hardly hear yourself begging Eddie to keep going, please. His grip on your hair tightens, still doing his best to keep from actually hurting you as he forces his eyes to stay open so he can watch your body bounce on his cock.
The sounds that mix in the room of your collective noises and his hips slapping against your ass make you moan louder. You don't register the pleasure tears slipping down your cheeks, tears that make Eddie's cock twitch as he tends to you.
"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" he asks. "You crying 'cause it's so much for you?"
You gasp and gush, watching your body jerk forward with each thrust of his hips. "Yeah," you whimper. "Fuck, Eddie! You make me feel so good."
The words are choppy, spoken between mewls and sighs as you lower yourself on your elbows. You bury your face in your arms, your hands still grasping fistfulls of Eddie's sheets as your only lifeline. Eddie lets you lay down for just a moment, but doesn't ease up. It anything, you give him a new angle to fuck up into you from. He presses himself so deep inside you, fills you to the brim as you cry out for him.
After a moment, he lifts your head again, this time by slipping two fingers into your mouth and making your suckle on them. You take it greedily, turn your head to allow him to thrust his fingers into your mouth like he's doing with his cock. He feels your pussy beginning to flutter around him as his hand on your waist snakes around to press against your clit.
"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes. "Gonna cum on my cock?"
"Please," you beg, slack jawed and teary eyed.
He nods, "Okay. You can cum, baby." He doesn't hold it out like you expected him to. He allows you to come undone again, allows you to let go as you cry out his name with a raspy throat. He throws his head back when you clench around him, clenching his jaw and nearly growling at the feeling.
He doesn't stop, even as you come down from your second high. If anything, he drives himself rougher, harder inside of you. The pleasure stacks up immediately and your weak, trembling body cries out for him as you shake and moan and gasp. "Mmph, yeah," he sighs. "I bet that felt so good, didn't it?"
You nod lazily, so full of pleasure that you can hardly moan as much anymore as you're reduced to mumbling little whimpers. A rough thrust of his hips proves you wrong as the blunt head of his cock shoves against the perfect spot inside of you. Your back arches and he takes that opportunity to wrap his fingers around your throat again, holding you possessively as he continues to fuck you like he'll never touch you again.
He adjusts his legs, hooking his ankles over yours to spread yours farther apart. "Jesus, you feel amazing, sweetheart," he praises. "Don't think I could ever live without this pretty little thing."
Eddie can feel himself reaching his peak. His cock twitches inside of you and his muscles flex as he watches your fucked out face in the mirror. "Shit, you're gonna make me cum, baby," he moans. He starts rubbing at your clit again, rough, fast circles that make you want to sob. "Are you gonna take my cum, sweetheart? You gonna watch me cum inside of you and fill you up?"
You nod quickly, so quickly that you're almost convinced that's why you're dizzy. His hand tightens around your throat without cutting off your air supply, pulling you up so that your back is flush against his chest as he thrusts into you. "Want you to cum with me," he breathes into your ear, eyes glued to yours in the mirror. "Can you do that?"
You nod again, "Yes, baby."
"Good girl," he praises, thrusting harder as his rhythm weakens. His fingers press harder against your poor, aching clit. When he can't hold on anymore, he gasps into your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Give me all of it, cum on my cock!"
And you do. You come undone with a loud, squeaky moan as you cry out his name. This one is more intense than the other two combined, it sizzles every nerve ending, flutters through your stomach and your chest and makes every limb shake. You're blinded for a moment, brought back only by the sound of Eddie's loud, throaty moan of his own as he shouts your name. You feel like part of it is for you, to let you know that you're the one doing this to him, you're the one delivering sweet bliss as his jaw goes slack and every muscle tenses.
He buries his cock deep inside of you, feeling you tighten around him. His spills so deep inside of you, fills you with his cum as his fucks into you a couple more times before stilling completely. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sticking his tongue out to lap at your skin, his teeth sinking into you as he nibbles and bites greedily.
You're too fucked out to comprehend anything other than the feeling of his body pressed flush against yours. Your mind is in a haze, all tangled and incoherent and blissfully unburdened. As Eddie slowly comes down, he begins to ramble into your ear again.
"Oh, good girl. Good, good girl. Yeah, that's much better, isn't it? You feel better? You look so pretty, all fucked out for me..." His words fill your ears as you pant and whimper. He pulls out of you, shifting back so you're both laying in the bed with you cradled against his chest. You can feel all of the wetness of your mingling releases spilling out onto your inner thighs, coating you in slick.
You slowly calm down as he continues to quietly ramble and stroke your limbs. He kisses along the back of your neck, the shell of your ear, anywhere he can reach without moving you off of his body. You move on your own accord after a moment, simply turning around in his arms so that you're chest to chest. You kiss him, long and soft and shaky. He practically whimpers into your mouth—as if he hadn't been the one holding the ace the entire time, teasing you with pet names and little commands, fucking you senseless from behind, making you cum three times in a row.
You pull away from his lips and murmur a tiny "I love you" with heavy eyes and an even heavier body as you all but slip down to rest your head on his chest. Eddie smiles, it's one of the softest smiles you'd ever seen on him as you go limp against him and get ready to fall asleep listening to the evening thumping of his heart.
He wraps his arms around you and turns you both on your sides, pulling away oh-so reluctantly and disappearing from the room. You whine and groan for him, and he returns only a few moments later with a damp cloth and a wider smile. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he assures you, spreading your legs apart as he settles between them again. He pulls you closer, as if he's going to start fucking you again. Instead, he starts cleaning you up with steady hands. "Don't want you getting all infected and everything," he half-jokes.
You scrunch up your nose at his words, speaking in an exhausted, groggy voice. "Gross."
He laughs, "You'll get some really nasty shit, like a UTI or something."
You giggle at his stupid antics. "Ew, Eddie, stop!" His laugh kicks up again and he tosses the rag away when he finishes. He plops down next to you again, pulling you into his chest as you burst into a fit of giggles. You nuzzle into his chest, curling up into him as you take in his warmth.
You sneak your hand behind his head and pull out his hair tie, letting his messy curls reign free as you take a lock between your fingers and start playing with it. You twirl it around your finger and then bring it close to your face and take in the scent of his shampoo. He watches you with sparkling eyes as you kiss the lock before letting it loose.
You burrow a little closer to Eddie and close your eyes, feeling the thick weight of slumber beginning to settle over you as you let out a definite sigh. He kisses your forehead, another long and slow press of his lips against your skin, and mutters your name. You hum lazily, too tired to reply.
"I love you, too," he says, fingers stroking along the skin of your shoulders as his arm tucked under your head flexes slightly. He watches a slow smile spread over your lips. It infects him as he grins as well. You're officially gone only a few moments after that. He presses another kiss to your forehead, and follows right behind you in your dreams.