So the past month consisted of me adopting @iGirl7Plus officially as my child who helped me come up with this idea and also this one is pretty long and realllllllllyyyyyyyyy mature so read at ya own risk! And the new pictures of Chris at his friend's wedding partly inspired this ahaha. Vote/Comment/Follow and thanks so much for all the votes this book has recently received I can't thank you guys enough. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS AMAZING!
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His foot always began to tap at the right song.
Even at a young age Christopher would sway to every chime and bass that penetrated the walls of his home whenever his mum brought out her old vinyl player. He'd dash into the room grabbing at her hands as his weight would lift him up and down and up and down to the beat of the rhythm. He liked the way his mum would laugh at his dance moves, mimicking him to join the fun – which he had to admit felt rewarding since his sister often complained about his pigeon-toed feet.
When little seven year old Chris found out he was going to his first wedding he was quite excited to say the least. His head nodded all the way through the church and into the reception hall. The music from the live band surprised him and he couldn't wait to find the dance floor and pounce around with his mum.
"Mumma," he whined, tugging on her long dress. "I wanna dance again mumma!"
"Oh honey mumma's tired," she sighed crashing down on the seat closest to her. "Why don't you go on and dance with Shana, hmm?"
He glanced at his sister and shook his head rather violently. "No. She always tells me I step on her feet. I wanna dance with you!"
"Bub, why don't you ask that little girl over there?" She twisted her son around to find you in a floral dress that shimmered against the lights thanks to all the glitter it displayed. "I reckon she'd dance with you."
"Go on now, mumma will watch." She said with a pat to his cheek and a light push in your direction. Once he shuffled away, Lisa sighed and rubbed at her aching feet. He really does step on people's feet.
Lisa watched as her small boy in the little tuxedo tapped the girl's shoulders with a faint blush to his cheeks. Your pigtails turned to the side as you instinctively shook your head at his question. And Lisa frowned at the slump in Chris's shoulders when he waddles back to her.
"Oh my love," she cooed, bringing him in for a hug and kissing his head. "Was her loss anyways. Mumma will dance with you after she has some rest okay?"
"Um excuse me?" The light and familiar voice brought his head up from his mother's lap. "Mum told me I was rude and shouldn't say no like that."
His smile twisted up instinctively as your head turned down and you rocked on the edges of your feet. "Do ya still wanna dance?"
"Okay! I – "
"Wait," you sighed, putting one hand on your hip while the other points to his face. "You didn't ask me porperly."
"Properly, hun" Lisa chimed in.
You nodded, face scrunching in determination. "Pro-per-ly."
"Ya see I'm a princess! And you're a prince and you have to ask me like a prince!" You lifted your fluffy dress on the tips of your fingers and bowed to him and nodded your head when he bowed as well.
His tiny hand moved in front of you remembering all the Disney movies he'd watch. "My lady."
"My lord," you giggled, gingerly taking his fitting hand as you both waddled to the dance floor.
The second time he dances with you, you're standing at the side of the gym. It was that time of the year again where every girl in the goddamn school brings their happy-go-lucky father to dance the night away.
Why do they even have this event?
It was hard enough as a teenager whenever the regular school dances would be put on, but this – this was twisting the knife that your absent father had left.
You don't even know how a meeting with your principal to bring your mother to the dance instead brought on a volunteer position, but here you were - pouring punch for everyone, miserable on the stench of the memories you've missed out on.
"Need a hand?" A voice interrupts your thoughts.
"No, I'm good." You sniffled, head down to deter the small tears that surfaced. "I actually – "
Your head finally lifts and your eyes slightly pop out. "Chris?"
He chuckled, grinning at your surprise. "Hello!"
You raise an eyebrow at him, careful not to show any disdain. "I – um I thought you had a date."
He shrugs, the suit he wore for you scrunching in the process. "Rather be here."
"At a father-daughter dance?" you scrutinized. "I can't believe you didn't invite me to the baby shower!"
He rolled his eyes and sheepishly rubbed at his neck. "Ha ha very funny." Curly locks covered his eyes as he looked down and then his eyes gazed into yours, tainted with something you deemed as pity. "I just," he paused not quite sure about his next words.
"Chris," you smiled abandoning the punch. "I'm fine."
"No no no, yeah I know s'just," he cleared his throat, "figured you'd want a dance."
You chuckled to hide the stir in your belly. He was looking out for you, he knew how emotionally draining Father's Day was for you so he deemed this dance to be particularly torturous. Plus, he himself has a little scar left from his parent's divorce and if he could soften the huge hole in your chest for a little while then it was worth it.
"I'm not really wearing proper dance clothes." You remarked, pulling at the marvel shirt you sported.
"You look beautiful." His eyes pouring into yours with such candor.
"Come on , my foot's tapping already," he says with a smirk. "And there's actually somethin' I need to ask you, but first let's dance okay?"
To your surprise, and his mother's, Chris was a kind and gentle boyfriend. He'd help you with your math homework, bring you flowers when he'd seen you stress over school. He would send text messages in the morning and call you for a warm good night. He's a hopeless romantic that's for sure, and you blame yourself for that one since you'd practically forced him to watch all those romantic comedies with you when you were younger.
It's been a good year together and tonight was to celebrate that.
You smooth the wrinkles on your dress when your knight in shining armour opens the door with a giant grin, mouth agape when he takes you in.
"Wow," he breathes, "I'm a lucky man."
"Oh shhh." You move and peck his cheek to hide your blush but he shifts his lips on yours for a welcoming kiss. "You're hardly a man anyways."
"Ouch that hurts babe," he scoffs teasingly. "Come on now, we're in the backyard." His hand tugs yours and when it arrives at a stop, it's your turn for your mouth to turn agape.
You've seen his backyard countless of times, but never like this.
A table was set out in the center of the room, a long candle as a centerpiece, and two deliciously looking meals set out at front. It looked fancy and carefully plased, but the glistening fairy lights that accessorized his fence was what had gotten you distracted. Soft music was playing on his mum's vinyl player and when you finally turn your head towards him you find his gaze on yours.
"Chris this is ... it's beautiful." You were the one to kiss him this time around, not caring if you're lipstick smudged a tad. By the end of your little detour, you both were breathing heavily, grinning at each other, drunk on each others presence.
"I'm guessing you liked it, yeah?" He chuckled as he moved you to your chair, pulling it out for you.
The meal was lovely and afterwards he pulled you to the grass as a make shift dance floor. His right hand held yours and melted on his chest, while your other went to his shoulder and his on your hip. The last time you had danced together, your eyes had meet at an equal height, but now he's a little taller and you reckon you can rest your head on his shoulder comfortably.
When you do, his head falls on yours and your eyes close when he gives you kiss on the forehead. The hand holding his on his chest shifts to around his back and you could practically feel your hearts hammering together.
"Y/N," he sighs, rubbing your back to distract himself. "I'm glad my mum forced me to dance with you."
You chuckled, smiling at your ridiculousness. "Sorry I rejected you."
"Hmm, think that was m'first heart break ya know," he pushed, loving the way you squirmed embarrassingly and kissed his neck as an apology.
"Think it was destiny." His Adam's apple pulps up and he licks his lips. "Mom always says, loss triggers love."
"Is that why people find love when they're not looking for it?"
"Maybe." He whispered lowly to you, his heart pulsing more at his reveal.
"Maybe," he cleared his throat, "that's how I fell in love with you."
"C'mon Y/N lets go! The limo is here."
Your mother tinkered away at her camera waiting on your arrival as the rest of your friends gathered at the bottom of the stairs. At the sound of heels clicking on the staircase, she raised her gaze and despite her control tears streamed freely down her rosy cheeks.
"Oh stop it mom, you're going to make me cry." Your voice was a little shaky but you held your domain when you walked up to hug her. It was a long one that held words you'd say to each other only once in awhile, and when you pulled back you cleaned her tears.
She took tons of pictures of you, your friends, and their dates so you could remember this moment forever. Once you were the last to go into the limo she gave you another bone-crushing hug. "Is Chris...?"
You shook your head looking down. "No, he's too busy." She gave you a sympathetic look (one that your friends seemingly gave you at the news). "It's okay mom, he's doing big things now. All I can do is support him, yeah?"
With that you went in and drove off to the night of all nights. Prom was always a huge deal, you never quite understood why, but then again you're sitting at the table alone watching your friends laugh and sing with their dates.
You want to join them, but you feel your stomach drop every time people would complain about Chris not leaving his fancy movie auditions for a day with you. But he was living his dream, or at least getting a step closer to it, and you didn't want to be the one to hold him back.
"Fancy a dance?"
You turn to find your lovable friend Micky holding out his hand for you, and you stamp your eyes at the thought of Chris surprising you instead.
"Am not really in the mood." You gave him a wry smile, "I'd be bad company."
"Nonsense! C'mon, Y/N. It's our prom."
You shrugged, letting him pull you to the dance floor. Micky was a terrible dancer, but he sure was fun. He'd break out the lawn mower suddenly and you'd giggle at his antics, showing him the light bulb move. He lifted your spirits that was for sure, but when the slow music came on you felt a little awkward about him holding you. He was a gentleman however, keeping two paces away to respect the relationship you had.
"Sorry dude, do you mind if I cut in?"
"Yeah sure," he let you go with a squeeze at your hands and a pat to his friend's back. "About time you showed up."
The boy is standing before you, and he almost looks like your Chris.
Except he's in a custom made suit that you hadn't seen in his closet before. His usual mane perfectly combed back and you spot the light makeup pampered on his already perfect face. Despite all these small changes, it was his sea blue eyes that destroyed your guard. It held a different aura to them now, as if he was seeing you in the past, and it sent a chill throughout your core.
"Hi." He smiled, teeth chewing at his rosy lips.
"Hey."
"Do you wanna – we should –" He wanted to talk. About you and him and everything, and he wanted to be alone to do so.
"Yeah yeah, but let's dance." You took his hand despite him giving you a nod to the corridor out front. This was your prom, and despite the conversation you'd have with him, you wanted to be in his arms.
His hands enclosed on your hips and yours trapped his shoulders. It was familiar for the both of you and you relaxed at that. His head was whirring with words that was usually easy for him, but something prevented them from ever reaching his lips. He felt different, and it was hard to explain it to the girl he fell hard for.
"How um ... How is being famous?" you breathed, sparking conversation.
"Not quite famous yet, m'just on the documentary," he strained a chuckle. "How are you?"
"Am good. Mum's good too. She misses you at the house."
"Miss her cooking," he chuckled this time.
"Well now you get fancy chefs to cook for you." You combed through his hair. "And stylists."
"S'weird." He said almost defensively. "M' just acting yeh know? Not like am a superhero or somethin'. And it's like I have to sell myself to do what I love."
"That's Hollywood baby." You winked at him as soft giggles erupted between the two of you. "But in all seriousness, it's only weird now because it's the beginning. Just watch in a few years it'll be natural for you."
He scoffed at that, if he was supposed to get used to people following him all day he'd throw up.
"M' proud of you though. I really truly am."
This Chris was different, you gathered. He was in a place he had longed to be, and if the audiences witnessed the enormous talent you watched shape within him all these years, then my God would he be incredibly successful. You can see it now, him acting in front of thousands of people, his signature on people's backs and arms or wherever else they wanted his autograph. He'd meet people who understood that life and shared his goals, and although a couple months back you had seen a different vision for Chris – you had to admit this one suited him the best, even if you couldn't see yourself in the picture.
You throat felt strained and you bite your lip for control. "Just promise me," you breathe while stroking his cheek and relishing the new stubble on his chin. "When you get all big and famous, you'll remember me, yeah?"
He shook his head violently curls following suit. "You'll be with me." He squeezed your hips and carefully brought you chest to chest to solidify his words. "You'll be with me every step of the way."
"Chris – "
"I love you."
Tears eventually scorched down your cheek when he brought you in for a deep kiss that held his truth. A hand moved to cup your face and he rested his forehead on yours when he pulled back, eyes stamped shut in frustration. "I'm never gonna let you go not if –"
You shushed him with a peck to kiss lips and he opened his eyes finally to find you looking up at him. Your hair was longer than he remembered, and there was a new scar on your shoulder which he would have noticed if he wasn't away from you for so long. He had missed you, and not just in your presence, but in the way you were growing without him.
His stomach finally dropped when you had reluctantly breathed the words he had nightmares about.
"I'm letting you go."
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The wedding chimes and soft ballad reminds him of the first time he moved to the rhythm. He had twirled with his mother and allowed her to place his feet on top of hers. They swayed to the music for hours, and he likes to think that's when he started singing too. His mum would always start and then he'd sing along with her. It was a sweet and gentle memory, possibly the only nice memory he had of dancing with someone he loved.
Chris had gotten quite teased by Jeff and the rest his friends for his not so normal party behaviour. It was the reception before the wedding, hot as hell in Hawaii, and he was running around playing with an adorable two year old. She was full of giggles when he first met the gal, and her mother was delighted to find someone for her to play with.
"I got yeh little one!" She erupted in giggles and wrapped her little arms around his legs. He picked her up and she boped his nose. "Looks like you got me, huh." He cooed at her rubbing his nose on her cheek.
A startling scream echoed across the grass, surprisingly coming from her mother that sat a few feet away for them. His eyes moved to the commotion. She was squealing and hugging some girl whose face was slightly turned away from him. He felt the air shift a bit until he looked down to find the two year old scrambling out of his arms and running straight for the new guest.
His mouth turned agape when the woman's back turned around to gather the little squealing gal into her arms.
His fingers tingled at the familiar smile you gave to your friends. He shook his head and moved towards you, lifting his sunglasses and hat and placing them on a table, he didn't want to look like that in front of you. It's been years after all.
"I just got off the plane now," you rambled, happy to have made it. "I was able to score a ticket at the last minute."
"This is the best surprise," she cooed at her daughter, loving the break she'd get knowing you'd take care for the day. "This girl missed you the most."
"Not quite true."
The voice piped out from behind you, and you turned to find someone you hadn't quite expected to find. "Chris," you breathed. And he smiled at you, both of you swallowing each other's image as if you'd forget.
"Oh go on love introduce yourself," the mother mused, believing it was his stardom that had gotten your mouth slightly ajar.
Chris chuckled at that, his hands behind his back as he steps forward. "We actually know each other. I grew up with Y/N."
"Yeah," shaking your head. "Last time I saw this guy he was going on the auditions." You chuckled, despite the tainted memory.
"This is wonderful! Come come, let's sit, you have to tell me all his embarrassing stories!"
By the end of the night, the table was filled with friends of Chris's, all getting a chance to know the woman who had first claimed his heart. Drinks were pushed around, as the lights settled around the open room. Chris's arm was around your chair and Scarlet almost teased him from the splitting grin he was sporting. Scarlet of course knew the history, you were the girl that got away, and Chris unknowingly dedicated many interviews to your relationship together.
"I think I should take this little one to her mothers," you said staring down at the child who took a nap on your chest. "It was lovely to meet you all, I'll see you tomorrow."
Amongst the goodbyes, Chris stood with you suddenly, looking as nervous as he once felt the first time he asked you to dance. "I'll walk with yeh."
"Sure," you smiled, waving at the last of his friends as you turned towards the suites of the hotel.
The walk was silent, something you hadn't quite expected. You reckon he was trying to form the right words to say, a habit of his he might have perfected throughout the years of being in the spotlight.
"You know, you don't have to be so nervous." You chuckled, shifting the girl in your arms.
He gave you a sheepish smile and pulled at his hair. "Is it that obvious?"
"Just a little bit." You turned to face him once you stop at the right hotel number. "You don't have to be."
"I know, I know," he breathed, eyes roaming across your face, noticing everything he's missed. Your hair is longer, and you have a couple more piercings on your ears then he remembered. Your eyes look a little rounder and he notices a small dimple on the side of your right cheek when you smile. "S'just, s'a lot to take in, yeah?"
"Hmm," you nodded, recognizing the man he's turned out to be. "We'll talk. But first can you knock on the door my arms are tired."
"Shit, yeah yeah, sorry."
The walk to your door was a slow one, trying to extend the conversation you both longed to have. Not to forget the tension in the air. It was Chris who suggested to sit at the bench of the park out front, and once you did, your heels quickly came off with a dramatic sigh. "Heels are the worst," you mumbled rubbing the soles of your feet.
"I wouldn't know," the cheesy bastard grinned at you, relishing in the irritated look you gave him as you tried to smack him on his chest. He grabbed at your wrist shaking his finger at you. "Well that's not very nice."
"Oh shove it. Hey wait," you paused grabbing at the hand that pulled away from you. You brought it closer as you inspected his tattoos: a Kanji Symbol, loyalty written on his huge biceps, a bull. It was random that was for sure, each one probably holding a memory that encompasses itself. As much as you wanted to know about them, you realized in the minute you hadn't spoken, Chris's hand rested at your thigh. He was rubbing his thumb, despite the sweat on the surface of your skin.
Somehow in the midst of your innocent touches, your lips landed on his, savouring the taste of rum and coke on his tongue. He moaned slightly as you sucked on his bottom lip, and he returned one of his as if returning your flippant behaviour. The hand at the your bare back woke you from your state and you pulled back suddenly, the force making you stand from his hold.
"What," you breathed. "We shouldn't, I mean, we just saw each other!" Using the heels of your hands to rub at your eyes. "I don't even know if you have a someone, oh no what if I just let you cheat on them. Oh god."
Of course you're concerned about that, he hadn't exactly made it clear he wasn't seeing anyone. You didn't either, he thinks. You've both changed a lot in the years, but it's nice to know you still pace around whenever you're over-thinking. And he knows exactly how to calm you down.
"I'm not." He stands moving towards you despite the step back you took. His shoulders slump and he tilts his head at you. "Swear on my life I'm not. Haven't for awhile."
"Me too."
There's a hum in the air from the lightning passing between the pairs of eyes. It's then you recognize his intent when he takes of his shoes and lays them gently beside yours. The lights of the hotel creates a shadow across his face when he holds his hand out to you.
"My lady," he grins, dimples carving into his cheeks.
You're glad to see the hopeless romantic in him hasn't ceased.
"My lord," you bow, girlishly giggling at him while he pulls your small frame in his arms. Your right hand lands on his chest while his left wraps around yours. The hand on your hip taps to the chords of the ballad, and he sways you to the rhythm.
It's different, still familiar, but different. Your head can fall to his chest with ease, and you feel more ridges and dips from the muscles he's developed. You're on your tippy toes when you kiss his dimples and your lips tingle at the harsh stubble.
"I've missed this." He confesses, head turned down in a low whisper. "Missed you."
"Impossible!" You grin at him and he swallows your giggles in a shattering kiss that sends tingling to your toes as they brush against the grass. His lips send smacking ones to yours as you maneuver closer and closer, his hands finding themselves around your waist while yours play with his hair. He can feel the curves he's missed out on and he almost whimpers.
"Shit sorry," in his eager to get you closer his heavy foot crushes over yours. And you laugh at the pout he's put on.
"S'okay. We should probably slow down anyways." You really don't want to, the sun has kissed his skin in a way that makes you want to pull off his clothes and explore it yourself.
"No," he whines, rubbing his nose on your neck and hugging you tighter than before. "Hate that you're right." He mumbles something incoherent and when he repeats, his new raspy voice lands slowly to your ear in a low moan. "Fuck, I want you."
He's pressing into you, rubbing your core, and he kisses your ear. "You look lovely."
His innocent words contrast his intentions, but he steps back and gives you a once over. "Still as beautiful as I remember."
"Oh geez," you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. "I think those romantic comedies are going to your head."
"Maybe," he laughs hard, hand moving to his stomach and you can't help but chuckle at his boyish grin. The laughter ceases when he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. He's just staring at it, in deep thought.
You don't interrupt him - he's choosing his words again. His hands reach down to squeeze your curves. "Rather cheeky tonight, hmm?" you raise an eyebrow, moving your face away from his lips.
"C'mon," his voice is deep, the alcohol lowering his normal register to a tone you swear vibrates through your core. "Just gimme a kiss," he says against your lips. "Gimme one big one 'n I'll lea' ye' alone."
And although his words are slurred because they're said straight into your mouth and across your tongue, you pucker up and indulge him, because who are you to deny a "big one" to this beauty of a boy in front of you? There," you state as he pulls away from you, his forehead pressed harshly against yours. "That big enough for you?"
You take small steps towards your room. "Mmmno," you shake your head as you pull away, hiding your face in his shoulder.
"Wait 'til we get to our room. Wan' ye' naked," he whispers in your ear that's just next to the hitch in his jaw. "'n hopefully bent over in fron' o' me."
Your stomach drops, flipping over once or twice before you swallow your excitement, pushing it back down where it belongs for the time being. You lift your head up to link your eyes with him, your hair caught on the slickness of your lips. You smirk, gripping his biceps to steady you while the room spins a bit. "Not here," you shake your head, kissing his cheek as a consolation prize.
He grumbles - something about you not being fair at all - and pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to your room.
Once inside you whimper against his mouth when he pulls you closer, your hair falling over the two of you, shielding you from the streetlights that passed by as you were driven home. You know you shouldn't - it'll only encourage him - but you trail your hand down to the front of his trousers, moaning in delight to find that he was as hard as you were wet. He grunts beneath you, the zipper on his jeans rutting against the side of your thumb as he bucks up towards your hand. You nearly shriek when he bites harshly against your lower lip, his teeth sinking into the delicate flesh of your mouth.
You knead at the bulge in his pants while he tugs at the hair at the back of your head, each of you in a battle to see who can get the other one to call mercy first. When you move your fingers deeper between his thighs to give him a squeeze, he breaks away from your mouth, panting against your lips while you rest your forehead against his.
The rest of the way to bed, it's a battle for dominance, with you having the upper hand in your position. Walking into the room, you strip yourself of every pieces of clothing - still shy to be in front of Chris- on your way to the mini kitchen, until all that's left is your bra and panties. It'd been a while since you'd had sex anywhere but your bed, and with how revved up Chris was tonight, you figured that it would be a treat for him to take you in the kitchen.
You smirk, standing off with each other, looking up and down, sizing each other up. There's a moment of complete silence where neither of you speak, neither of you blink, neither of you breathe.
"Was always good with followin' directions, hmm?" he indicates your lack of clothing. "Ye' ready f'me?"
He smashes his mouth onto yours before you have a chance to reply. The kiss is so searing, you feel it coax all of the air out of your lungs. He expertly manoeuvres his tongue into your mouth, pushing you into the space where two pieces of granite countertop meet with his hips alone. His lips don't move from yours as the small of your back presses against the counter, each kiss deeper than its predecessor. The pressure of his mouth on yours is varied as he leans into you, forcing up against your body to mark his territory. He's growing hungrier with each kiss, and you'd be lying to yourself if you'd claimed they didn't have the same impact on you. You feel your stomach flip when he moves to cup your breasts, causing you to gasp slightly against his mouth.
In a flurry of elbows and limbs, he peels his embroidered shirt off of him, tossing it over his shoulder and on the floor. You instinctively reach out to smooth your hands down the length of his torso, stopping lovingly at the expanse of his abs. You smirk at the way his stomach moves beneath your touch, giggle a bit at how he raises his eyebrows after you pause at the trail of hair just above the waistband of his boxer briefs that are sticking out from his skin tight pants.
And it's not like he can stifle his need for you - not like he can keep his mouth off of yours when you look the way you do and you're touching him like he's the only thing that's been on your mind all day - so when he crashes his mouth back down and onto yours, you gasp, nearly jolting backwards in surprise.
You run your hands down the front of him - his neck, where you feel his heartbeat pulsing across your fingertips, his collarbones, down to the waistline of his jeans that have grown impossibly tighter with each moan you release.
He breaks away from you, his breath falling hot against your neckline. He kisses down your bare chest after taking deep gulps of air in, your hands falling down to either side of you and pressing flat against the countertop for balance. When he looks up at you, you feel as though you could melt into the hardwood floor, pure greed in his bright blue eyes.
You moan impatiently when he doesn't move to unclasp your bra right away, tugging at his scalp as you do so. He snickers and moves his hand to expertly undo the restraining fabric that lies between your flesh and his mouth. Before dropping the strapless barrier to the floor, he holds you against his chest while he kisses you square on the mouth once more. You feel his arousal on your stomach, causing a warmth to spread through your core. "'m gonna make you cum so hard," he promises in a growl, lapping at the supple skin on your lips. "'m gonna make ye' forget your name."
You whimper beneath him, closing your eyes tightly as he trails kisses down your body and to the waist of your panties - a delicate pair with flowers printed onto the lace - and nips at the fabric that covers your modesty. "Chris," you whisper, one hand on the counter behind you to steady yourself, one hand still tangled in his hair.
"Gotta get these off," he yanks the last shred of your clothing down your thighs, around your ankles, and tosses them over his shoulder once he's gotten you to step out of them. "Shit," he chuckles, bravely swiping a middle finger up your folds. "My good girl's always ready for me, innit she?"
He's already got you in a fit of whimpers and sighs as he helps you swing one of your thighs to rest atop of his broad shoulder ;as he shreds off his last piece of clothing; so that you open up for him, warranting a grown from the back of his throat as he crouches on the floor in front of you.
"Oh God," you whisper. "Fuck me."
He doesn't seem to mind how loud you're getting - you think he rather enjoys it, really - especially when he slides into you, enticing a deep groan and a slap on the countertop from you. He pulls back, watching you while swiping his thumb over you, still maintaining the pressure necessary to keep you squirming about. You close your eyes and will yourself not to cum so soon, but it's a damn near monumental task, trying to reign all of this heady pleasure in. Almost like you've been asked to lasso the moon, you think. He's being slow, taking his time stroking you with his fingers, kissing you with swollen lips and a sharp tongue, smiling up at you while he continues his torture, but there's a method to his madness, and you know it.
"Wish ye' could see yourself right now," he smirks, adding another finger into you. "You're so perfect," he whispers to himself, staring at the methodical way he's rubbing at you with his thumb.
"Tha's it," he takes a breath, "Wan' you t' cum for me," he says, as his throaty moans threaten to spill and you know he's going to get what he wants. You can't form the words to respond, as it's nearly devastating, how good it all feels.
"Ne-need," you moan, shuddering around his fingers, his lips, his mouth. "Needta cum." You're barely able to catch your breath before he's pulled away from you once more as you clutch his hair as you shake, wordlessly riding out the high he's provided for you.
He smiles maniacally at how you white-knuckle the lip of the counter, while you catch your breath above him, your eyes finding it difficult to focus on anything but the splotchy black dots clouding your vision.
"Ye' need more?" Chris smirks, rubbing you, gentle enough to have you keening up and into him, expertly enough to have you grip onto his forearms for leverage. He pulls away just as he's hitting the exact spot that makes you moan, and you miss his presence so badly, you hear yourself actually whine.
"No," you whimper. "Chris."
"Tell me," he raises his eyebrows, looking up at you from below.
"Gimme," you grunt, your fingernails gripping at his skin.
"Tell me," Chris growls, tapping harshly at your clit with the pad of his middle finger. "Tell me what you want. Say it. Lemme hear ye'."
"Fuck," you cry, gasping around your words. Gulping, you force yourself to gather your senses. He had you so tightly wound around his finger, you'd do anything for him to make you cum again. "I - I need more - ne-need more," you nod, gnawing at your lip. "Please make me cum. Please."
"Fuck," he mumbles, shaking his head. "That's m' girl."
As he increases his pace, your nails dig further into his skin, leaving half-moon impressions onto his arm.
You smack your hand onto the countertop beneath you, biting your lower lip to keep from crying out.
"Mmm," Chris moans. "There it is." He grins up at you when his hips careen up to you, his hair falling across his forehead as he motions up and down rather than in and out against you, your orgasm building faster and faster by the second.
"Baby," you groan, followed by a guttural sound that you try to bury in your throat.
"Don' ye' fuckin' stop," he orders. "Make some fuckin' noise for me, pet," he snarls his upper lip over his teeth as he bears down his teeth into his fleshy lower lip.
"Chris!" you obey his demands, but it's desperate, filled with more terror than you'd like. "Chris, stop. Stop!" you scream, your knuckles turning white as you grip onto the counter. "I ca-I can't," you whimper, your eyes wide and frightened. "Stop! Stop! I - fu-fuck! I'm go-" It actually scared you, how good it felt, how the sting of his rings against you only heightened your pleasure. "I can't, Chris!"
"Ye' can," he encourages. "I know it. Know ye' got this in ye', love." His cheeks have reddened and his pout is now maroon as the muscles in his forearm flitter under the taut skin, a concentrated look on his face to match the furrow in his brow. "Listen to how gorgeous ye' sound. All this just f'me? Fuckin' love it."
You tilt your head to the side, biting into the flesh of your shoulder, although it does nothing to muffle your screams. Your foot twitches and your legs shake while you scream above him, bracing yourself on your forearms, fearing you'd lose everything in you and come crashing down to the floor if you allowed yourself the opportunity. You'd never seen a dam break, nor had you ever been inside of a wave as it crashed down to the shore, but the second you released all of the built-up pressure, you could imagine how it felt to be privy to that kind of relief.
Chris groans and gasps all at once, and the wetness around your thighs makes you scream even louder, because for a second, you're positive he's broken you. Some switch had been flipped inside of you, causing you to literally explode, the bubbling in your stomach boiling over until you had nothing left to give. He made good on his promise and he'd ruined you.
"Holy fuckin' shit," Chris yells, his wrist glistening underneath the lights in your kitchen. "Good girl. My fuckin' gorgeous girl," he stands up and looks down at you with wild eyes, and it's not until you see the smile plastered across his face that you realize he didn't break you. No, he hadn't broken you - hadn't ruined you yet.
"You good?" he checks, looking in your eyes for confirmation. The only thing that intoxicated him now was his primal need for you, rather than the alcohol he had consumed earlier, and you felt the same
"Think so," you nod with your eyes closed, because you're halfway concerned about him actually ruining you.
The two of you pant heavily, with you doubled-over onto the counter and Chris leaning up against the edge of the counter right next to you. The coolness of the granite beneath you soothes your hot skin and you focus on how your breath makes small trails of vapor against the dark stone, the static in your brain making it difficult for you to think of anything but your breathing.
"Didn't actually ruin ye', did I, ?", you hear Chris say from beside you.
You nod, so subtly that he barely notices, your cheek sticking to the counter. "I liked it, though," you whisper, and you can hear him smile. He gently places one palm on your back while the other swipes the sweaty hair from the nape of your neck. He kisses your shoulders with a soft mouth, breathing you in and tutting against you while you continue to catch your breath.
"We made a mess of the kitchen floor", you say with a sly smile creeping up your flushed out cheeks.
"Don' mind," Chris swipes his thumb over your brow, kissing your forehead gently. "Gonna wash it off anyway. Sure you're okay?"
"Of course," you smile. You can see the ease drift over his face, your confirmation striking the worry from his mind. "'t was fun. Quite saucy, if you ask me." You wiggle your eyebrows, making him laugh, the concern completely gone from his features.
"A'right," he grins, smacking a kiss onto your cheek. "Up ye' go!"
You squeal as he lifts you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck as he walks you up the stairs, your discarded clothes forgotten in the kitchen.
"Think you can take way more than that," he mutters while he turns on the shower. "'av' to try again another day."
"Who says there's going to be another day?", you say.
"Oh come on! Don' tell me you won't dance with me again?".
"Only if you promise not to step on my feet with your pigeon toes", you say as a deep chuckle escapes his mouth.
"Promise", he says flashing that famous all American smile you had known from your first dance.
And Chris Evans was not one to break a promise.
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DID IT MAKE YA HORNY???!!