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Streetlights rhythmically flooded the interior of the Chevy with warm light as Jim drove you both through the darkness toward Enzo’s. It was your night, no stress, no work, and nothing could stand in the way of this romantic date. It had been Jim’s spontaneous idea to book a table; it had been far too long since you’d both been just a man and a woman sharing a date, instead of the Chief of Police and his anchor in this crazy world.
Jim seemed more relaxed than usual, one hand resting loosely on the steering wheel while the other remained on your thigh. A warm, constant weight that promised this evening belonged only to the two of you.
Your eyes wandered over to him and his sharp dress shirt, which he had only recently bought. He looked so big and powerful beneath the layers of fabric. Jim noticed your staring and couldn't resist glancing your way.
A short, gravelly laugh escaped his throat when he realized he had your undivided attention. He squeezed your thigh through the fabric of your dress, his grip affectionate but firm. “Like what you see?” he rumbled in that deep voice that never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Before you could answer, he smoothly steered the car into a parking spot right in front of Enzo’s.
The restaurant was busy, the warm glow of chandeliers spilling out through the fogged-up windows. Jim got out, came around the car, and held the door open for you. A gentleman of the old school, even if his movements were still those of a man more accustomed to kicking doors down than holding them open.
You smiled sheepishly as Jim reached out his hand to gently pull you from the car. The gesture made your cheeks flush; even though you’d been together for so long, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat with such small acts.
As soon as you were on your feet, Jim wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a brief but passionate kiss to your lips. Caught by surprise, you let out a small squeak, but as Jim pulled back, you both shared a warm smile.
“Ready for our date?” Jim asked, receiving an affirming nod. “Ready, Chief,” you replied softly, and a faint growl flickered across his lips. With a protective hand on your back, he led you into the warm interior of Enzo’s. Jazz filled every corner of the room, and after Jim gave his name to the waiter, you were led directly to your table.
The evening began perfectly: the wine was heavy and red, the alcohol loosening you both up. The food was excellent, and Jim was completely focused on you as you were about to order another drink. That was until a familiar voice pulled you both out of the depths of romance.
“I didn't expect to see you here. You still living in Hawkins?”
A man in a tailored gray suit, a former colleague of yours who used to hit on you far too often, stood by the table. Eventually, he had quit and moved to a neighboring town. Since then, you’d had peace from his cheap pickup lines. Still, he had always been nice enough, and you’d shared many laughs during breaks. But that had to be ten years ago; many things had changed.
His smile was a fraction too wide, his eyes wandering far too suggestively over your dress. Jim stiffened instantly. The warm glow in his eyes vanished, replaced by the cool, watchful precision of the Chief.
It wasn't exactly joy, but it wasn't hate either that hit you as he appeared next to you, though you widened your eyes in drunken surprise.
“Hey, Mark,” you replied politely, trying to bury old grievances, but the sudden coldness radiating from Jim made you shiver. “What are you doing here?” you asked nicely, as he gave a casual shrug.
“I don't really like being in Hawkins anymore, but I had a date here. The lady stood me up,” he said harshly. Only now did you notice the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath. You wrinkled your nose.
Mark ignored Jim almost entirely. He leaned over the table, his hand brushing your forearm as if by accident. “You look stunning. We should definitely grab a drink sometime... without company.”
You tried to lean away from him, adopting a passive stance, and you could feel Jim’s gaze burning holes into him.
“Mark, I…” you began, your heart thumping in your chest, unsure how to best respond. But when Mark leaned even closer, almost draping an arm over you, Jim reached his breaking point.
He slammed his fork down with a loud clack and let out a low, warning growl. It was less the sound of a man and more that of an animal defending its territory. Slowly, with a provocative, drunken calmness, Jim stood up. He towered over Mark by a full head, looming over him.
The cozy atmosphere was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by the cool, dangerous authority of the Chief. In his new shirt, he looked more massive than ever. He stepped toward you, gripping your hand firmly to pull you up, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist.
“Jim…” you whispered, trying to calm him, but he wasn't listening, blinded by rage, jealousy, and the wine.
“Our drink is canceled,” he said to you quietly, his eyes never leaving Mark. His voice was low, but it cut through Mark’s drunken fog like a knife through butter. “And the only person without company is you. So you better get the hell out of here before you spend the night in a cell drying out.”
A brief silence followed his sharp words, punctuated by Mark’s terrified swallow. Mark turned pale and took a step back, stumbling slightly as he turned around and fled.
You almost felt bad for him, but Jim was locked in a state of tunnel vision. The arm around your waist tightened for a moment as you clung to his muscular arm.
“Jim, come on…” you started again, but Jim reached for his wallet and tossed a few bills onto the table.
“We’re done for tonight,” he grunted, leading you out of Enzo’s with a large hand on your back. He wasn't rough, and he wasn't angry with you, but his evening was ruined.
The air in the Chevy was thick, palpable, lying between you like a heavy blanket. Jim stared fixedly at the dark country road, both hands gripped so tight around the steering wheel that the leather creaked. The rhythmic light of the streetlamps flickered over his face, emphasizing his rugged profile.
You barely dared to breathe. It wasn't that you were afraid of him, never, but the raw, masculine energy he radiated now sent a very different kind of tremor through your body. “Jim?” you ventured softly as he pulled the car into the cabin’s driveway with tires screeching.
He didn't answer. He killed the engine, and for a moment, there was a total, charged silence. Then he turned his head toward you. His eyes were dark, almost black with desire and suppressed fury. “He touched you,” he rasped, his voice raw and deep. “He looked at you like you were fair game.”
“He was drunk, Jim! And so are you!” you defended yourself, your voice also charged with anger and a hint of sadness over the loss of a perfect evening.
“Oh yeah? And that’s why you let him touch you?” You hesitated, processing his words, shaking your head in confusion.
“I… what?”
But before you could say more, he was out of the car. He marched around the front with heavy steps and yanked your door open. He didn't wait. He grabbed your arm, gently but firmly, and led you toward the cabin. The moment the door clicked shut behind you and you were standing in the darkness of the hallway, all restraint vanished.
The lock clicked, and before you could even think about finding the light, you felt Jim’s massive presence in front of you. He gave you no room to breathe. In one fluid motion, he grabbed you by the waist and pinned your back against the cool wood of the door. A suppressed gasp escaped your throat as his body, a wall of hot, vibrating energy, practically consumed you.
“Jim...” you breathed, but his name died on your lips as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.
You gasped as his stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, a searing contrast to the cool night air still clinging to his clothes. He wasn't just kissing you; he was marking you. His lips and teeth found the spot where your pulse hammered, sucking and nipping until you tilted your head back, fingers clawing into the firm fabric of his shirt.
“You think I didn't see the way he looked at you?” he growled against your skin. His voice was nothing but a low vibration that went straight through your bones. “The way he touched you, like he had the right?”
His large, calloused hands traveled down from your waist, impatiently shoving the fabric of your dress upward until he reached the bare flesh of your thighs. His touch was demanding, almost rough with desire and loosened by the alcohol, but as he felt your soft skin, a deep, raw growl escaped him. “You’re mine,” he murmured, softer this time. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
He lifted his head, staring at you in the darkness. The sparse moonlight through the small window by the door glowed in his eyes like burning coals. He didn't wait for a verbal answer. He cupped your face with his free hand, thumb pressed firmly against your jaw, and brought his lips crashing onto yours. You were overwhelmed by the cocktail of his longing and unbridled jealousy, which he shamelessly took out on you.
The kiss tasted of the remaining wine, of pent-up anger, and of a deep, desperate love. It was deep, wet, and possessive. Jim forced his tongue into your mouth, claiming you as if he wanted to own every inch of you, while his knees pushed between your legs to pin you even harder against the door.
The hand between your legs wandered higher, and you couldn't help but moan. For a split second, you wondered how you had even reached this point. Jim could feel your desire; his hand found the warmth of your sweet, needy center, lingering teasingly just an inch away.
He pulled back from the heated kiss, watching your expressions, and for the first time, a small, cocky smirk played on his lips. In the moonlight, it only made him look more predatory.
“Say it,” Jim spoke, precise and low. Goosebumps broke out across your skin.
“Yours… I’m yours, only yours,” you answered almost instantly. Your mouth was open, hips moving slightly; you couldn't take it anymore, you needed him so badly. No one made you feel the way Jim did.
“That’s right. You’re mine. You’re my good girl,” Jim breathed into your ear, making you shudder. His hand moved higher, fingertips brushing your panties, and he gently stroked the soaked fabric. “So wet for me,” he groaned, feeling the relentless heat of your longing center.
Immediately, Jim leaned back down and crashed his lips onto yours again. It was sloppy and uninhibited, but you could feel how much love was packed into those kisses.
Before he could even slip his fingers under your lace, he pulled away from your lips with a heavy heart, only to lift you with a strength that took your breath away. You instinctively wrapped your legs tighter around his hips as he carried you through the dark cabin with sure steps. The only sound was your heavy breathing and the creak of the floorboards under his weight.
Once in the bedroom, he let you slide onto the soft mattress, but he gave you no respite. He was over you instantly, kneeling between your spread legs and your hiked-up dress, hands working impatiently at the buttons of his shirt. A low curse escaped him as one of the buttons popped under the pressure and went flying.
You couldn't help but giggle as the button bounced across the wooden floor with a bright tink before coming to rest. Piece by piece, he revealed his broad chest. Instinctively, your hands wandered over his skin, over the sparse hair and down to his stomach, where Jim stopped you immediately.
He tossed his shirt into the darkness, grabbed your wrists, and jerked your arms over your head, holding them there gently but firmly.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” Jim breathed amusedly, leaning down to catch your lips in a kiss that was as demanding as the situation required. “Those stay up there,” he said before letting go of your wrists, sitting back up, and instead grabbing your hips possessively.
“I’m going to claim you until you’re moaning and whimpering for me loud enough so that everyone can hear who the hell you belong to,” he growled with new energy and an intensity that only amplified the throbbing between your legs.
“Claim me, Chief,” you moaned, desperate and longing. Your words elicited a deep, guttural growl from Jim, and his grip on your hips didn't loosen as he slid down between your legs.
“Every inch,” Jim confirmed, aroused, lowering his head to your soaked panties. He hovered over you, inhaling your scent before his hands let go of your hips to snatch the edge of your underwear, pulling them down your legs. His eyes lingered on yours, seeking your consent in the darkness before lowering his mouth to your swollen folds, licking up every bit of you, devouring you completely.
Everything around you blurred, melting into the dark room. Your eyes rolled back, and your whole body urged you to grab his head, but you couldn't; you wanted to obey him, to follow his commands, so you held back with all your might.
Jim rumbled at your delicious taste; no one else should ever have the honor of tasting you but him. “So good,” Jim gasped like a starving man. A man who could satisfy his hunger for the unfinished, ruined dinner right here and now. “All for me.”
You squealed as he began to suck harder. “All for you, only for you,” you agreed, moaning, your hips beginning to buck. You gripped the sheet above your head tighter, whimpering desperately and moaning loudly as Jim suddenly pushed two of his thick fingers inside you.
“Shit, Jim, please… please,” you cried out, drawing a vibrating growl from his throat that surged through your entire body.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” Jim asked calmly, while his fingers continued to pump sinfully well inside you.
“You, I need you… please Jim, so much,” you breathed, almost tearfully, watching the movement of his muscles silhouetted in the faint moonlight. The bed began to creak as Jim rose and leaned over your body. The moment hung still as his lips met yours, his fingers still in the heat, working slowly, gently, until he removed them and rose to undo his belt.
“You’ve got me, sweetheart,” Jim breathed, grasping his throbbing erection; it was practically screaming to be buried inside you. The clink of the belt echoed in your ears, a sound that was a promise of what was to come. Longingly, you tried to catch a glimpse of him in the dark, but as he pulled his pants down to his knees, he grabbed both of your knees, hooking them over his shoulders while he began to tease you with his tip.
Your breath was coming fast, hips rising to meet him, and shortly after, Jim pushed inside. Your whole body was pinned beneath him, arms still above your head.
Jim growled like an animal. Inch by inch, his length buried itself into your dripping heat. Your eyes rolled back, and the audible thudding of your hearts filled the room, bringing it to life with passion.
Shortly after reaching his full depth, he began to move, thrusting hard and quickly picking up a brutal pace. You screamed his name, and Jim looked so proud, so happy.
“Just like that, sweetheart, scream my name,” he gasped between thrusts, only to draw a loud “Jim!” out of you that echoed like music in his ears. “Only mine,” Jim growled, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. Skin hit skin, rhythmic with erotic sounds.
You noticed Jim shift slightly before you felt one of his hands over your wrists above your head. He held you fast, pinning them into the mattress, not letting you escape his trap by even an inch. But you had no intention of leaving. You could feel your climax building, ever since Jim had brought you to the brink earlier with nothing but his soft lips and talented tongue.
“…Jim,” you cried out, breathless. It rolled over you like the tide of a stormy sea as he leaned down and fused your lips together.
“I’ve got you, let go, you’re with me,” Jim whispered tenderly against your lips, pulling back with renewed energy. “Let them hear who you belong to, sweetheart.”
With those words, you felt the rising sensation in your core threaten to explode. Just a few harder thrusts later, Jim ruthlessly threw you over the edge. You cursed, screamed his name, and balled your hands into fists beneath his grip. Your walls pulsed violently, letting Jim feel it instantly.
“Fuck, baby,” he squeezed out through clenched teeth, his thrusts becoming unpredictable and ragged before he too came, pumping all his raw passion into you. The slats of the bed stopped creaking as Jim remained inside you while you both, drunk on love, rode the waves of the climax. Again and after, he pulsed inside you, and the feeling of his warmth only intensified your orgasm.
Heavy breathing, loud heartbeats, and exhaustion hung in the air. After a while, Jim slowly withdrew, and you immediately regretted letting him go. Beside you, the mattress gave way as his heavy, sweat-slicked body pressed against you. He pulled you into a firm, protective embrace and buried his face in your hair.
Once you had both calmed down and your breathing slowed, you spoke softly. “I’ll sew it for you,” you said, pulling Jim out of his dazed thoughts. Questioningly, Jim hummed into your hair. “Your shirt. I’ll sew the button back on for you,” you repeated, biting your lip with a smile. Jim chuckled at your words. “Thanks, sweetheart. I knew you’d like the shirt.” Caught, you agreed with a murmur.
“I love you, Jim,” you breathed softly, a promise that you belonged only to him.
A small kiss landed in your hair, and a genuine smile sat on his lips. “I love you too, sweetheart.” You enjoyed each other’s presence, listening to your heartbeats, until you agreed to take a warm shower. In true bridal style, Jim lifted you gently from the bed, his muscles tensing, and you couldn't resist stroking over them.
After everything, you were just glad to be his, and you wouldn't have traded your place by his side for anyone else in the world. Your evening had taken a perfect turn after all.