thirty two. black hole sun.
The two had a great deal to discuss, Lyra attempting to come to terms with her new life. Whether it would last days or years before she could feel Tom's arms around her, she was unsure. But she'd keep Bo around, he was similar to Harry sometimes.
His possessive nature, his aggression and fear of abandonment. He just wanted to be cared for by her, and Lyra figured it isn't the most impossible task. An almost empty beer in her clutch, Lyra's head on Bo's chest rises and falls with every breath he takes.
He places his empty can on the table, having gone through the crate with Lyra's kind help, he felt buzzed. They'd fallen into silence not long ago but Bo's mind was anything but. Her Vanilla shampoo occasionally drifts it's scent to him and he feels blessed. Her skin smells as he does, using his body wash and it might be the most satisfying feeling he'd ever experienced.
He's captivated by her and everything she is. The warmth of her body entwined with his submerging his thoughts into one's less than innocent. She's precious to him, but the thought of having her beg for him, knowing his heart would clench at the thought of pleasing her.
Having her writhe beneath him, a strong grip on her throat as she's at his mercy. It's a heavenly vision, her beautiful soft skin, he imagines her perfectly. The way her long hair would fall over her chest to frame her breasts for him perfectly. All for him. How incredibly perfect she'd look all filled up by him. Her gasps and cries for his ears only.
His head lulls back against the bench's backrest, thoughts of ecstasy and adoration coursing through him. He's growing hard, he's sure of it. How can it be helped with such a beauty in his arms?
Bo's hand that'd been loosely twirling around strands of hair over her back had tightened, into a gentle tug. She looks up at him, eyes wide and he lets out a shaky uncertain breath.
They'd made progress, great, perfect progress. And he was so proud of her for that. But he can't resist the risk, hand pressed against the back of her neck. He guides her forwards.
Lyra's heart thumps pitifully, anticipation gnawing at her, while guilt sneaks it's way between the two's intwined hands. He's guilty for lack of self control, fearful he'll bring them back to square one. Lyra's guilty for the way her heart tugs for Tom, yet her lips burn to meet Bo's.
A leg either side of his, Lyra is the one to rectify the distance between them, tasting the slightest remnants of beer on Bo's lips. His hand in her hair tugs strongly as he's enveloped by the excitement of her. A hum passes from her lips to his and he smiles into the kiss, his other hand grasping her neck to pull her from her knees to sit on his lap.
Lyra's lips part in shock as his buldge presses against the heat forming between her thighs. The front door slams and the two part, Lyra brushing against his growing excitement, eliciting a breathy groan from Bo. His head falls back once more, watching Lester enter his truck with an angry glare.
He dares to take his doll's attention away from him. What a useless piece of shit brother he was. Bo's lips on her neck draw Lyra back to the present, she rolls her hips closer to him, feeling his throat vibrate at the feeling it gives him. Her fingers thread through his messy hair, feeling him lick and bite at her skin. His bites grow harsher as he struggles to control the excitement, the sweetest noise he'd ever heard falling from Lyra's lips.
He looks up at her, her eyes closed happily because of him, it's too much. His hands lift her against him, rising to his feet and leaving the bench and beer cans behind.
Tonight he will make her scream his name, just to show that perverted freak in the attic what he'll never have.
Bo's room is much tidier than Lyra had expected, but she hardly gets time to inspect their surroundings when he's hovered over her, teeth sinking into her neck once more. She's insatiable and Bo swears he'll never tire of her.
His fingers crush into her sides, her legs wrapping around his hips, forcing him closer till their chests meet. His hands, still cold from outside, snake up her dress, pushing the fabric up over her hips. The sight of her lacy black underwear is just as rewarding as he'd imagined those times he'd done her laundry, wondering just how perfectly they'd fit her.
He presses kisses along her thighs, making sure to savour every part of her, not wanting to neglect an inch of her beautiful skin. Lyra's back arches in reaction and Bo takes his chance to slide the dress over her head. His hands find their place over the matching bra covering her chest, reaching under her to unclasp it without even thinking.
The useless item is discarded and his large hands envelop around her soft breasts, palming them, his tongue leaving wet kisses in their wake. A soft whimper brushes from Lyra's lips and she blushes, embarrassed. A whimper felt a little pathetic for their situation, but Bo couldn't disagree more. The sound makes him twitch in his pants and he sighs peacefully, hands finding there way down her body.
His fingers loop under the bands of the only thing between him and where he needs to be, discarding them alongside the bra.
Bo's lips part, searching for compliments but they fall short on his tongue, not good enough to express his desire. He settles for pressing a kiss on her clit, Lyra's hands trapping bedsheets between them as his tongue swirls around her arousal.
It's painfully not enough, to be denied of the very thing she knows he wants so badly too.
"Bo, please." A small groan vibrates against her clit, in retaliation to her short beg for him. So needy, so perfect. His free hand finding the eager tent in his trousers, he sighs. He's needy too. Pulling back, he licks the remaining wetness from his lips, Lyra's eyes flying open as he removes his jeans.
She watches him impatiently, her body pulsing with excitement. He rids himself of all clothing, the sight urging Lyra to take her bottom lip between her teeth. He's perfect, utterly perfect. Muscular but not obnoxiously, it's exactly how she imagined him to be, he's perfect.
She crawls to the end of the bed, on her knees, watching him happily through her lashes. Bo could pass away at the sight. His pretty doll crawling to him, her body on display for him only. His mind could never do her justice, his eyes barely manage it.
She wraps a hand around him carefully, wasting no time in stretching her lips to his tip. He leaks with precum and she enjoys every drop, just as he had hers. He tastes better than she'd have imagined, her infatuation with him becoming more returned by the second.
Bo's head falls back, hands in her hair when she parts her lips, bringing him into her mouth, cheeks hallow. She's slow, gentle, and although he's urged to fuck all the thoughts out her pretty little head, he savours her eagerness to please, relinquishing control momentarily.
Lyra takes his entirety into her mouth, feeling him jolt forwards ever so slightly with need. She smiles as well as she can, hands pushing him deeper by his ass, Bo groans. He can't help himself, she'd had her fun, he muses.
Pushing her head forwards, Bo finds a rhythm, feeling her choke slightly occasionally but she can breath, it's good enough. He fucks as deep as he possibly can into her mouth, never looking away, admiring the beauty to her fullest.
"Fuckin' hell, Lyra." Bo groans, his hands holding her head close to him, feeling her struggle slightly against his hold, his cock deep within her eager throat. Just a second longer, he tells himself, the feeling so truly ethereal, despite his doll struggling against him.
He releases her and instead of being met with anger as he'd expected from her, Lyra smiles in a shy manner, Bo grins immeasurably wide. That's his girl.
She's on her Stomach, back arched as Bo does his best to fill her slowly, carefully and gently. His mind nags him to fill her, faster, deeper, more thoroughly, make her really fucking feel it. But he waits, building up his speed as she buries her head into the bedsheets, small cries leaving past her lips.
A hand goes over the arch in her back, pushing her just that much further into the bed, finding his rhythm. His lips part in pure bliss at the feeling he's gifted, the moans she releases and her grip on his bicep to keep herself steady.
He reaches forwards, his hand finding her throat to pull her up quickly, bending her over despite keeping his grip on her throat. Their hips meeting never ceases and her volume only grows, much to his pleasure.
"Bo, fuck!" She whines, loud enough for him to know Billy and Vincent would've heard. Of course there's no one else around to hear, but the thought that they would makes him bask in pride. He's the reason she feels so good, it's all him.
"Doll, I'm—" Bo's breathless, hair tickling her neck as he leans into her, hips snapping into her when he feels her breath hitch. It's so sudden, her legs turn to jelly, her Stomach contracting as she reaches orgasm, tightening around his cock. He thrusts through her high, reaching his almost instantaneously.
He can't bring himself to release her yet, her throat still in his grasp, her body still writhing with him inside, filling her up. Pulling out slowly, he watches the blend of their pleasure drip from it's coating on his cock.
"What if ya get pregnant?" Bo speaks, finding his rationality as he sits her down on the bed, entering the bathroom connected to his room. He turns the tap on, rinsing himself free of cum and Lyra sighs softly from the other room.
"I can't have kids." It's no bother to Bo but he glances past the door and she looks relieved, as though she'd never told a soul. He frowns, running the bath's taps and coming back to her.
"At all, like ever?" He asks and she nods. She hadn't even told Tom, feeling it wasn't a pressure to tell Bo. They weren't in a relationship, he was obsessed with her and that was that. But Tom loves her— and she loves him, how do you tell your future husband you can't give him a family?
"Never got a period before either." Bo nods slowly, gently scooping her into his arms and taking her to the bathroom. He sets her down into the running water with a kiss on the forehead. Her cheeks are flushed red and he finds it adorable.
Lyra Mitchell, his beautiful doll.