Characters: Sam, Sarah, Dean, OFC
Pairing: Sam/Sarah, a little of Dean/OFC
Warnings: Explicit adult stuff kiddies, you have been warned. (Oh, tis fairly angsty too).
Summary: (Heart Tag) Sam once said he was cursed and a girl tried to convince him that that wasn’t true. For a while he believed her and now that belief is shattered once more. He can’t be on his own for the rest of his life but he can’t bring himself to fall in love.
(Note: This fic is in two separate posts because the LJ character limit won't let me fit it in one. There's a link straight to the rest of it at the bottom of the page)
Sam firmly believed that Sarah knew what he was there for the moment he walked up to her and said ‘hi’ at the auction house. It was in the way she looked at him, the way she studied his body and gazed at his mouth. He caught how she kept licking her lips and some long ago memory of a psychology class told him that that was a good sign. It meant that she was receptive to his advances or something like that.
Whilst it was impossible for her to even guess at the actual circumstances that had led to his arrival she could obviously read something in his manner that told her his purpose. She didn’t seem to mind although she’d not taken him straight back to her place. She wasn’t that kind of girl.
They’d gone for coffee, exchanging small and ultimate pointless talk. They both knew this was only preamble to make them feel better about what they were about to do.
As soon as she’d closed the door to her apartment behind them he had her up against the wall, kissing her hard, fierce and demanding. His hands tore firmly at her blouse, his fingers pulling her bra aside and mouth dipping to suck roughly at her breasts. He wasn’t trying to make her come, wasn’t trying to build this up for her slow and sweet. He was just trying to make her ready for him as quickly as possible. This needed to be quick before it gave his brain time to think.
She gasped sharply at his treatment of her, surprised but not unpleasantly so. By the time they’d stumbled to her bedroom he was already fiercely hard and throbbing like crazy, lust completely in control. He pushed her back onto the bed, stripping his own shirt and pulling off his pants and boxers together. He watched her undo her bra and wriggle her skirt down but soon got impatient, pushing her hands away and yanking her panties off for her.
She was damn beautiful, he realised, taking a pause to admire her lying naked and willing on the bed before him. He breathed deep, almost hesitating before determination made him quiet the part of his brain that had begun to wonder. Thinking was not an option here.
He parted her legs, swiftly running his fingers through her, finding her adequately wet. He rubbed the head of his cock around her just a little, lubricating himself. She shuddered underneath him, closing her eyes tight shut and it sent burning sparks of need through his cock and up his spine. This was good. It was what he wanted.
“Wait...” she gasped, breathless with the speed of it all, “Condom.”
He grunted a curse but did as she asked, taking the packet she handed to him, ripping it and rolling it over himself.
Then he grabbed her thighs, pulling her right to the edge of the bed and thrust straight and hard into her without warning. He saw the slight wince of pain on her face, felt her body tense around him. She was no virgin certainly but he was a large guy all over and she was blindingly tight around him. He remembered that she’d said she hadn’t dated in a long while and so he guessed it had been a while since she’d last had sex too. She wasn’t the type of girl for one night stands.
He squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on his own sensations. The gasps from her lips spoke perhaps of pain or at very least discomfort but he could barely hear them with his blood rushing so forcefully through his ears. He began to move without waiting for her to adjust, knowing that she soon would anyway. He needed to get this over with quick.
Unable to think of anything else he continued to thrust in deep strokes and soon her sounds of discomfort changed to sharp gasps of tortured pleasure as she got used to his size. He pounded into her hard, holding her legs apart so he could get closer. He gripped her thighs like they were the only thing grounding him to this reality, the only thing keeping him human.
He opened his eyes to watch the way her breasts bounced in time with his movements and he listened to hear how he forced a hitching sound from her with every bang of his hips.
He was fucking her, pure and simple. Using her to get what he thought he needed.
Madison had been the first girl he’d had sex with since Jess. First different girl he’d had sex with in near four years actually. He hadn’t fucked her. Their night had been full of passion and want and need. He’d liked her, had felt something for her. In truth what he felt for Sarah was even stronger still but it was scaring him too much to think about it.
He had come here to remind himself that loving a girl didn’t necessarily end in tragedy. Sarah had been on a hunt with them once and she hadn’t got hurt. She’d survived and she’d said she’d be waiting for him when he came back. Only when he’d seen her however, all bright smiles and welcoming eyes, he instantly knew that he shouldn’t have come at all. A dark, relentless voice inside just wouldn’t shut up, telling him that by loving her he was dooming her. That he really was a curse on others. Sarah had laughed at that very idea once, had told him that life was all risk in the end and she was a big girl and could make her own decisions about what risks she wanted to take. But she wasn’t the one who’d have to try to survive if something happened to her. She wasn’t the one who couldn’t bear to go through that pain again. First his mom, then Jess and now Madison. It wasn’t a good track record really and he desperately didn’t want Sarah to be next on that list.
And so his brain, drunk on guilt and pain, told him that he was a selfish son of a bitch, utterly thoughtless to put her in danger just to grab desperately at a bit of comfort for himself. It told him that as soon as the world could see he actually really liked this girl that she was as good as dead.
Somehow he had therefore decided not to like her. He’d decided to fuck her, to keep it impersonal and enjoy the time. Dean always said sex could be just sex and that it didn’t need to mean anything. He could have that with Sarah, surely?
Whilst her tightness and heat around him felt incredible though and whilst that ache of pleasure was already growing rapidly in the base of his spine, he couldn’t truly say he was enjoying it. He grunted and groaned as the head of his increasingly sensitive cock rubbed her, he felt his balls getting tight as he watched himself thrust in and out of her, but it was all superficial. It felt good but somehow hollow.
This had been a mistake he realised now, far too late. He shouldn’t have brought her into this. He should have just met some girl in a bar or, better still, have paid for it. At least a hooker would know the deal and wouldn’t expect any more from him. But Sarah was waiting on a promise, one that said he would come back to her. He had always intended to keep it but this wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Hindsight was pointless in the moment though and his only aim now could be to come as quickly as possible and to get the hell out of there.
Covered in perspiration he dropped her legs and repositioned his hands either side of her torso, leaning forward, giving himself a new angle and more leverage. His thrusts became more fierce, her whole body shifting with them each time as she groaned deep at the sensation, her face riding a very fine line between pleasure and pain.
Her hands almost blindly reached up and smoothed over his chest, running her fingers through lines of sweat. His stomach hitched at her touch and for the first time since he’d entered her he looked up at her face. It was too much. Too nice.
His hands clawed at her, his arms wrapping under her body as he picked her up. He managed to swivel her around, one hand pumping rapidly at his cock to try and keep the sensations going as he repositioned her. He didn’t want this to take any longer than necessary. Dumping her on her hands and knees, he pressed her shoulders down so her ass raised high enough in the air. Then he positioned himself and pressed once more at her entrance, thrusting back inside her again. Like this he could go in her completely, ball deep, filling her entire length. Even better he couldn’t see her pretty face, sweet mouth or lovely eyes.
He grabbed on to her hips, his calloused fingers tight enough to bruise as he slammed forward with all he had to give. Tiring, he soon wrapped his body over hers like a mating animal. And wasn’t that what he was right now? Along with being a selfish bastard.
He squeezed his eyes shut and just concentrated on the physical; how tight she was around him still, how his balls slapped against her with every thrust, how he grunted whilst she panted for breath.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he muttered through half gritted teeth, his thighs burning with the effort of keeping going, “Jesus Christ...”
That was good, keep it impersonal, keep it just about the physical. She was just a girl he was fucking. It didn’t mean anything.
He automatically rose as he came in long bursts, eyes tight shut still and head thrown back, his body juddering out of control as he emptied himself into the condom. It was a good job she had insisted on him wearing it. There was no way in hell he’d want to get her pregnant on the back of that display.
Finally still, the last traces of orgasm subsiding, he pulled out of her. His gut chilled as he saw the position he’d had her in and how sore she looked where he’d fucked her raw. His brain betrayed him, reminding him straight out that this wasn’t just ‘some girl’ but it was Sarah. Gorgeous, sweet Sarah who he’d kissed so lovingly goodbye the last he’d seen her and who was the first place his mind went to when he was feeling down and needed to remind himself of something good. When she’d seen him that afternoon she’d probably thought that he was coming back to start properly what they’d never had a chance to.
He’d betrayed her, had used the knowledge that she would be willing to get into bed with him to get what he needed.
Feeling suddenly sick he turned and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, knees half buckling, breath coming in deep pants. What the hell had he just done?
His head slipped into his hands, fingers running through damp hair and he sighed angrily. Dean had been wrong. It couldn’t be ‘just sex’. Or at least it couldn’t be for Sam with this particular girl.
But Dean would never have done that though. He wouldn’t hurt a girl and nor would he use her in such a degrading way. He always took pride in being a generous lover not some ‘fuck and go’ merchant that Sam had just become.
Sam had ruined everything that much was clear. He’d tried to keep this simple and uncomplicated but he’d treated her like she was cheap. Now he was going to have to get dressed and leave without even kissing her goodbye.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling that his apology was totally ineffectual in the circumstances. He’d used her like some kind of hooker or something. She was a decent girl and she deserved more respect. And he didn’t deserve to be around her any more.
He went to stand but he found he couldn’t as she placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling impossibly weighty for someone so small.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, soft and painfully understanding.
He didn’t deserve that either and so his face remained hard and stony, refusing to comment.
“Sam,” she whispered gently, her breath on his cheek like a hurtful caress, “Look at me.”
He kept his face routed to the spot.
“Look at me,” she repeated again, hand on his cheek now, “Please.”
That did it, like a magic order that he was programmed to obey. He turned his head slightly to glance at her as she rested her chin just over his shoulders. The worry in her dark eyes nearly killed him.
Despite himself he allowed her to kiss him, soft and sweet, just lips, much gentler than anything he’d done to her.
He felt pretty much like the worst person in the world.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, eyes cast down, ashamed.
“No,” she reassured.
She was lying of course, he’d been way too rough for a guy of his size considering she was out of practice and she was probably as sore as hell.
“God, Sarah, I’m so sorry...” he whispered again, ignoring her claims in favour of the truth and feeling half sick to his stomach when he recalled the wince of burning pain on her face as he’d slammed himself inside her too quickly. He wanted to bring his hand up, to gentle trace his fingers across her cheek, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch her again.
What kind of fucking loser was he to treat her like that and think it was better than the alternative? If he couldn’t be with someone properly because he was scared of putting them in danger, that was fine, that was his problem. But he wouldn’t resort to treating a girl like that again in order to make some kind of screwed up semi-relationship. He’d rather be on his own. He just wished it hadn’t been her that he’d made that discovery with – anyone but her and perhaps he could have given a heartfelt apology and have moved on, living and learning, feeling guilty but eventually getting over it. But somehow to have done it to her was so much worse. They could have had something. Now they had nothing but bitter memories. Way to fuck things up.
“I’m fine,” she reassured once more, pressing a light kiss to his cheek as one of her hands wrapped over his shoulder and drew light circles on his chest. The comfort in her touch burned him.
“What happened?” she asked gently, clear concern on her face.
He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t really tell her. He knew logically that it didn’t make much sense but he couldn’t help the way he felt and the things he thought. If he told her she would think he was totally screwed in the head and she simply wouldn’t understand. Neither would Dean and that’s why Sam hadn’t told him either. He’d just said he wanted to go and see Sarah and so Dean had dropped him off, promising to be in a motel just outside town. Sam only had to call if he wanted picking up. He’d thought that would be the next morning after a night filled with carnal satisfaction and meaningless sex. It wasn’t going to be like that though. He should have realised.
Dean was probably glad of the break too. He got precious little time with Izzy as it was and Sam couldn’t help but notice the way that Dean had grinned at her when Sam had asked for the time out. His brother’s brain had obviously gone straight to one place and Sam wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t got out of bed since they’d checked in. Dean had probably spent all day making love to his girl and Sam knew it would be so much better than anything he’d just done.
“Someone I knew...” he explained carefully, noticing Sarah’s concern growing at his momentary silence, “They died...”
He didn’t say it was a girl, didn’t say that they’d made love and the next morning he’d had to kill her. He didn’t want Sarah to feel like a rebound screw even if she was in a way. Whatever had happened with Madison it didn’t negate the fact that he still held a big torch for Sarah even if circumstances hadn’t allowed him to carry it through. And now it had ended like this.
“Not Dean?” Sarah asked, looking at him a little shocked. Clearly she thought that the only thing that could turn him into such a jerk was the death of his brother. Sam it seemed was weaker than she believed though.
“No...No just a friend.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, pure sympathy on her face and he couldn’t believe she was saying those words to him. After what had just happened he should be saying them to her for the rest of his life. Not only had he pretty certainly hurt her, he felt like he’d degraded her too. It wasn’t right.
“I should go...” he said, feeling nauseous with shame, believing that no amount of ‘sorrys’ would really make up for it. He was better off just leaving her to forget it and forget him.
Maybe he was making too big a deal about this – it wasn’t like he’d forced her or anything and she didn’t seem too upset about things. But he hadn’t respected her that was the crux of it. He’d used her body no better than a piece of meat, ignoring the woman inside. It was just wrong.
“No,” she said resolutely.
He pleaded with her to just make this easy. To let him go.
“If you won’t tell me what’s really wrong, then fine,” she said, her voice determined, “But don’t pretend that you don’t like me. That wasn’t you.”
She nestled up close behind him, her hands sliding across his stomach and over his chest. He sighed deeply as he felt the press of her breasts in his back, the notion of such closeness comforting. Her hands travelled down and rolled the condom off of him, discarding it into the nearby bin.
He hated to see how her hands stroked across his cock, still sticky with his come.
“Shh,” she whispered light in his ear, “It’s okay Sam, just relax.”
She sat up onto her knees to give herself a bit of stability before her free hand caressed his torso, tracing muscles and scars, her other hand still but lightly wrapped around his cock. He watched her fingers, small delicate, running across his skin like he was something to be treasured.
Her kisses floated across his neck and shoulders, soothing him, sending his brain to a far more peaceful place than it had managed at all recently. He could have almost forgotten what had happened before if the smell of sex still heavy in the air wasn’t a constant reminder.
As he laid his head back against her shoulder her kisses went up his throat and across his cheek too. He winced when he kissed the healing cuts on his face even though they weren’t painful anymore.
“Close your eyes,” she said, nibbling lightly on his ear.
His brain was screaming at him that he should be dressed and out the door by now but somehow her fingers and voice held him powerless. He did as he was asked, taking the opportunity to just feel something more than anger and hurt. Her hands moved so carefully over him, exploring the inches of his skin in precise detail. His abs tightened and drew in every time she went over a spot that made him shiver inside. He felt how heavily he pressed back against her, felt how her thighs touched his as she widened her legs a little to get closer to him. He tensed at the recent and raw memories it brought up.
“It’s okay,” she soothed again, running her hands across his backside and onto his thighs.
He didn’t deserve this, his brain kept reminding him. He didn’t deserve the gentleness of her touch or the kindness in her voice. What he did deserve was a sharp stinging slap across his cheek and an order to get the hell out of her house. Why they didn’t come he wasn’t sure but he was stuck between grateful and apprehensive. Grateful to her for not giving up on him, for not throwing him out of her life. Apprehensive though that if she continued in this manner he’d have no choice but to admit that he loved her and the possible consequences of that terrified him.
She slid her hands down his arms, slow and deliberate, eventually entwining her fingers with his. She lifted his compliant hands, settling them on her own thighs, making him touch her even if he didn’t really want too. It took a long moment but eventually he relaxed and accepted it. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help it, needing it so desperately.
“It’s okay, Sam,” she repeated again, “I understand.”
“You shouldn’t have to...” he muttered, his voice sounding distance and distracted, “God, Sarah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” she said although she couldn’t have done, not really. It was a lie on his part after all. He had meant to do just that, had meant to come here, screw her and leave. In his defence he hadn’t intended to hurt her but it must have been at the back of his mind somewhere that that was an okay thing to do and the thought scared the hell out of him. It showed him too clearly what he was capable of. What he could perhaps become.
The tenseness in his body increased tenfold as her fingers folded around his cock again. His stroking hands gripped her thighs before horrible memories of her undoubtedly bruised hips made him release them.
“Sarah, really you don’t have to,” he said in pained tones, his guilt not letting him enjoy it. She shouldn’t be touching him like this. Not now, not after what had happened.
“I want to.”
“Look, Sam,” she interrupted, voice determined, “If you’re going to walk out of here and never come back I can’t really stop that. But if I’m only going to have one memory of being with you I don’t want it to be what we just did.”
And how could he deny her that? She was right, he wasn’t going to return to her. She deserved more than the life he could give her. The least he could do was make up for his actions by treating her properly just once. Besides, one part of him hated the thought of her walking around for the rest of her life thinking badly of him or thinking that he didn’t care for her. And if he was honest he wanted a good memory too, wanted to know what it would be like to make love to her, even if it could only ever happen once.
Her hand wrapped tighter round him as his body surrender and he hardened in her grip, throbbing in time with her strokes. She put her other hand to work too, alternatively stroking the base of his cock and gently squeezing his balls. Damn she was good and it wasn’t helping his guilt complex any.
She laughed sexily in his ear, trying to lighten the mood, “I always thought you’d be big Sam but even I’m impressed...”
“You thought about me?” he asked between increasingly laboured breaths as his hips began to rock gently into her clever hands.
“Only when I touched myself,” she replied and those words in such a husky tone and the image they supplied him with ripped a small groan straight from his throat.
She simultaneously ran one hand over the head of his cock and the other across the flesh behind his balls and another groan tore harshly from him, his back arching up and hips rising as his head fell more heavily back onto her shoulder with a look of pure ecstasy on his face. It felt better than any part of fucking her had.
“God you look so sexy when you do that,” she muttered hotly, running her hand over the head of his cock still.
His hands slid around her and grabbed her bottom, kneading the flesh lightly. She pressed even more firmly to him and he could feel that she was wet against the base of his spine.
The sensation made him moan her name.
“C’mere,” she said softly and he groaned again but this time in disappointment as she moved from behind him.
Ready and compliant he laid back when she pushed him to do so. He was just starting to really enjoy himself when she bent her head forward and took his cock between her lips no doubt still able to taste his come on him. The sight of her head sliding up and down made his stomach churn again, no matter how good it truly felt and he could hardly bare to watch her do it. He was so scared of making her seem dirty or cheap like he felt he had before. He knew it didn’t have to be that way, knew that a girl could give a guy head as a loving and erotic gesture without looking like a slut but right now his brain was stuck in one not so pleasant place. Maybe he’d seen too many bad porn films or something.
“Sarah, please stop,” he asked and his voice must have convinced her of how disturbed he was because she pulled off of him and gave him a curious look.
Instead of trying to explain himself he slid his hand up her back and into her hair, pulling her to him for a kiss. Soon he had her settled over his body, legs entwined together, hands trailing her back and his tongue running through her mouth. He continued to do so until he’d rid her of every last taste of himself, until the only thing left was her. Then he rolled them over and with a slight smile kissed his way down her body.
He nuzzled his face into her neck, smelling alternatively the traces of perfume and her own skin, feeling her pulse point flutter under his lips. He breathed in the scent of her deeply, wanting to remember it for the rest of his life. The thin skin over her collarbone someone made her seem delicate and he felt a surge of guilt again at how roughly he’d treated her before. He had to keep reminding himself that that didn’t matter now, all that did was making her forget that that had ever happened.
Her breasts where amazingly soft against his mouth. All of her was soft in fact, all her skin unmarred by the things that afflicted his entire life, but her breasts were something else. The softness of the skin there was almost otherworldly. He gently palmed them reverently with a large hand before he allowed his mouth to suck at one, rolling his tongue around the nipple, carefully to mind his teeth as she rose off the bed to meet him.
When he pulled away his hand slid down her belly and his eyes locked with hers, seeing the heat of anticipation there. She was already amazingly wet, dampness touching her inner thighs too. He brushed his fingers through her, moving easy in the slickness and even though he hadn’t touched anything too sensitive yet she arched toward him. He slid his free hand under her, holding her lovingly to his body as his fingers began to work more determinedly. In her folds he searched out her clit, rubbing his fingers over it in wide circles, making them smaller as he narrowed down the perfect area to touch her. His concentration was focused and complete. He shivered as she dropped her head slightly to one side, burying her face in the crook of his neck, gasping and moaning about how wonderful he was making her feel. It was one of the most erotic and beautiful sights he could ever remember. Especially when she whispered his name.
Slowing, wanting to make her orgasm mind blowing, he moved his fingers downwards, seeking out her entrance. When he circled two fingers around her she tensed a little.
“Sam, take it slow,” she breathed.
He nodded, yet again feeling that twang of guilt as he realised she must be tender still.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing her lips in penance as he gently pushed one finger inside her. He watched as she gripped the bed sheets momentarily before relaxing once more to enjoy the gentle ministrations of his hand.
His thumb continued to circle over her clit as his finger curled inside her, rubbing until he found a spot that made her groan with delight. He watched entranced as she writhed on the bed so close to him, body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. There was something so natural and so perfect in the way she moved. It seemed so right. He tried to memorise it but he was sure his recollections would never live up to the reality.
He didn’t remove his fingers until he had slid down her body and could replace them with his tongue.
The smell and taste of her was utterly intoxicating and he heard himself moan in lust as he pressed his mouth to her. He used every damn trick he’d ever learnt, every flick of his tongue and sweep of his fingers. This had to be perfect for her. He wanted her to remember him like this not the idiot who’d walked into her house not too long ago.
He had to put his free hand to her belly to try and still her a little as she moved frantically beneath him, pressing up into his mouth to encourage him on. He tried not to imagine that belly swollen and carrying his child in the way it once had in a sweet dream that he almost hadn’t wanted to wake up from. It was a pleasant fiction, nothing more.
When he rolled his tongue and pushed it slightly inside her she near flew off the bed, grabbing big handfuls of the sheets.
“Oh god Sam!”
The sound made him groan and the vibrations it sent through her made her arch again, her fingers now in his hair.
He looked up her body, watching her face. The look on it wasn’t pain like it had been last time but complete ecstasy. God, it was beautiful. Suddenly needing desperately to see what she looked like when she came, to add that to his box of memories, he moved his tongue back to her clit and pushed his fingers inside her once more. She took two this time without any hesitation.
He felt her orgasm build and then go through her hard. He watched as her body arched and writhed, saw her head thrown back in unimaginable pleasure. It was incredible to see her like that, so open to him. He moved up her body, laying carefully over her, looking reverently down at the woman beneath him. He smiled, brushing sweaty strands of hair off her face as he revelled in the feel of her heated skin against his and the thudding of her heart beat. Her legs wrapped around his and she smiled too, a bit dazed at him before she stuck her tongue out and licked it across his lips and chin, still wet from her. Then she brought his fingers into her mouth, sucking those too, giving him the most innocent expression from behind thick lashes. Sam chuckled very slightly. She was a little bit kinky and he kind of liked it.
“Damn that was good,” she said, stretching like a cat beneath him, hands playing at his backside.
When she rocked her hips slightly, rubbing his cock against her thigh, he groaned, dropping his face into her messy hair for a moment to wait for the sensations to pass. Having just seen her like that, having felt and tasted her, had left him so incredibly turned on that it was almost overwhelming.
She lifted his head and kissed him firmly, tongue playing with his. She gasped a little when his lips travelled down her neck and sucked lightly on a spot that he’d already discovered she liked. Sam always had been a quick study.
This was just about as close to perfection as he’d been in a long time he realised, embracing her gently, hands roaming her body. He tried to ignore the fact that this was the one and only time he intended to be with her. Sometimes you had to live for the moment.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered huskily, her hands running through his hair, cradling his head against her chest.
He glanced up at her, unable to hide his apprehension.
“Are you sure?” he asked, memories of what had happened before still raw, not wanting her to feel obliged, “You don’t have-“
“I want you inside me,” she repeated more firmly this time, muttering between heated kisses, “I want to see your face when you come.”
Truth was he wanted it too.
He had to admit that despite his reservations, the feel of pressing himself against her, of sliding against her slick flesh as he sought out her entrance was undeniably incredible. When he found her, using his hand as guidance, he stilled and kissed her long and deep, letting her get used to the feel of him being there, treating like he would if this was her first time.
“Condom...” he remembered, circling his head slowly at her entrance, resisting the urge to start pushing inside, knowing he should have thought of that before now.
She shook her head.
“It’s okay. I take birth control pills.”
If that was the case he wondered why she had insisted upon it before. Maybe it was his attitude, maybe she hadn’t felt so comfortable with being quite that intimate with him when he was acting in that way.
The fact that she trusted him now was almost humbling.
Nodding, he gently nudged his hips forward and felt her instantly tense and tighten. No, this wasn’t her first time and he did believe her when she said she wanted this, but her body was in control right now and it still keenly remembered what had gone on not long before. He tried to shove away a fresh surge of guilt.
He pulled back a bit and kissed her some more before trying again but still found her too tight.
“Sarah let’s not,” he said, shaking his head. She clearly wasn’t as comfortable with this as she made out. Some part of her was obviously saying that him being inside her wasn’t something she wanted to experience again.
She was not one for giving up at the first little hurdle though.
“Roll over,” she commanded and as had become the norm recently he did as he was told.
She sat herself across his thighs, straddling him. One of her hands rested on his chest, steadying herself whilst the other reached for his cock, already slick with her. Sam lay there deathly still, letting her do things how she wanted them. Even if the sight and feel of her holding him was so painfully erotic in his currently aroused state that it almost turned his brain completely to mush. Which, considering the way his brain had been working in the past week, was a very nice way to be.
The moment she guided the head of his cock inside her he had to tense his whole body, biting his lip hard to quell the natural urge to thrust. He watched the concentration on her face, watched as she took a few deep breaths, getting used to him but obviously more comfortable now she was in control. She closed her eyes and he could feel her start to relax around him.
“Sam,” she demanded softly, “Touch me.”
One of his hands reached out, knowing why she asked, knowing that the more she was aroused the easier this was. He pressed his fingers through her wet folds, rubbed them against her clit then back, circling the flesh around where he began to disappear inside her. She dropped her head forward, watching him. He felt her shudder at the sight, seeing him trailing his hand down his own cock.
“Keep doing that,” she muttered heatedly. She obviously found the sight erotic and so he carried on, stroking his hand up himself and onto her over and over again. Watching himself disappearing inside her as she slowly lowered herself onto him.
A sharp spike of pleasure ran through him when he felt his balls touch her flesh, knowing he was now all the way in. As she stilled he took time to appreciate the feel of her, velvet softness and warmth gripping him tight. He revelled in the intimacy of the moment and revolted when he remembered how it had been before. How could he ever want that over this?
He watched, completely rapt as she began to make small circles with her hips, beginning to move whilst keeping him deep inside. The feelings running from the head of his cock were unbelievable and a low groan rumbled through his chest, making her smile.
“You look sexy like that too,” she pointed out.
He wanted to tell her how amazing she looked, skin flushed, hair messy, slowing riding him, but he couldn’t bring his mouth to say something so base and raw. He really wanted to tell her that he loved her, not just that he loved the look of her, but those words wouldn’t come either. He was almost grateful, knowing it would be a mistake.
Instead, he smiled back at her, sitting up, keeping her tight on his lap, hands running up her back and his chest brushing her breasts as he kissed her. In thanks and in apology. He had been right, he really didn’t deserve her.
When she began to move, sliding up and down him he nearly lost it and had to concentrate hard to stop himself coming then and there. He loved the way her fingers trailed his face and her lips tugged at his but she was doing all the work here and that wasn’t right, it was meant to be all about her.
He lay down, pulling her to his chest before rolling them over and pining her underneath him. She smiled, so amazingly comfortable with being with him like this. It was his turn to thrust now, slow and long, his body soon trembling at the effort of taking it easy. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of her spine, the swell of her hips and pinch of her waist. So gloriously feminine under calloused, worked fingers. His lips were uncoordinated and running on instinct as they moved desperately at her mouth, kisses broken by gasps and moans. He lost himself in it, in feeling and tasting and hearing. Soon nothing else mattered except making love to her and feeling her wrapped in and around and through him.
His linked hands with hers, squeezing lightly with his every thrust.
It was overwhelming and he could barely think. His only coherent words were her name and ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again like a mantra of penance, begging her to forgive him. Not only for what happened before but for now, for showing her how he really felt, for bringing her into the danger that was his life.
Her only response was ‘it doesn’t matter, it’s okay’ and it just made him feel worse.
He clutched on to her desperately, rocking his hips against hers, feeling the slide of skin against skin. He needed this so badly. He needed to feel loved.
The touch of her fingers seemed to drag the emotions out of him, painful and raw. He continued to ask for her forgiveness for everything. For not being able to be with her, for loving her, for being who he was.
The more she moved beneath him, the smoother her body slid against his, the more he felt like everything was crumbling, like his emotions were falling apart, disintegrating into something he couldn’t get a handle on. It was too much – pain, love, desperation, fear. He hadn’t be prepared to feel like this at all. But he was too far gone to stop now and so he clung to her for dear life, lips clawing at her skin, trying to hold on to something that would stop him going insane.
When she gasped that she loved him he buried his face in her neck, memorising the moment as well as he could. When she muttered feverishly in his ear how good she felt his abdomen clenched and he knew he couldn’t last much longer with all his senses under such assault.
His fingers slid to her clit, rubbing that place he’d already learnt was perfect, feeling her movements beneath him become half wild, losing any thought they’d once had. Her nails dug into his ass and thighs as she came, a cry of pleasure pouring from her lips mixed in with his name and short gasps of surprise.
The way she tightened around his cock was blinding and his eyes squeezed tight shut, body arching. He tried to pull out of her, somehow feeling like it was the thing to do – coming inside her suggested a future, marriage and children and all the things he didn’t think they could ever have. But her legs wrapped around him, holding him tight, forcing him to stay where he was. He came, spilling into her over and over with long, drawn out bursts, the most intimate act of all especially when done with a girl he was falling for. As he recovered he laid his arms at either side of her, ensuring that he didn’t rest his whole weight on her as he collapsed forward, heart pounding and breath coming in pants. He knew should be getting off of her, kissing her goodbye and leaving, but a post orgasmic haze settled over his brain and demanded that he give himself a moment longer. All he could feel was her fingers alighting his back and her breath on his lips before she kissed him. The intimacy of the embrace near killed him, his heart pounding close to hers and the warmth of his cock, still deep inside her and wet with them both.
The urge to say ‘I love you’ almost ran away with him but he held it in check.
She looked exhausted but he couldn’t help running his fingers in light circles over her still, being careful to be gentle across over stimulated flesh whilst his other hand stroked her hair.
The way she fluttered around him at his touch was like a siren’s song and he was totally helpless against it.
“Stay with me,” she whispered softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, praying for someone to give him the strength to do the right thing.
But his weakness won out.
(Link to the rest)