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Vanessa always savored the quiet minutes after a shower, when everything felt slower and she didn’t have to think too hard about anything. Her skin was soft and still warm, flushed from the near-scalding temperature of the water. She liked it better that way — the sting of heat seemed to dissolve the tension in her muscles and hush the constant hum of her thoughts, leaving her completely relaxed and feeling weightless.
Soft steam and the smell of her soap — a mix of vanilla and something floral — still clung in the air, and she had wiped down the foggy mirror just enough to see her own reflection. She was already dressed, wrapped up in a pair of Mike’s boxers and one of his shirts. It hadn’t taken long to discover that his clothes were a lot comfier than hers, and they always smelled so good — a mix of his cologne and detergent and something else underneath it all that was just him.
She was halfway through brushing her hair when he knocked. Her eyes lifted to the mirror just as Mike nudged the door open and peeked his head inside, hesitant in a way that made her mouth curve before she could stop it.
“Hey, you almost done?”
“Yeah,” she replied, already shifting away from the door to give him space. “You can come in.”
“Thanks,” he said quietly, pushing the door open all the way now. He pulled the towel that was draped over his shoulder from his shower and hung it on the back of the door. His hair was still damp, curls darker than usual, and she could smell his shampoo as he turned back around.
She kept brushing her hair as he leaned against the counter, and she could feel his eyes on her, tracking her every movement with quiet curiosity.
“What?” she asked, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking back at the mirror.
“You’re stealing my stuff,” he said after a moment, head nodding down at the boxers.
“Borrowing,” she corrected.
He snorted softly. “You say that every time.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“They’re literally mine.”
“Yeah,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “That’s the point.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling too — faint and fond, like he wasn’t actually complaining. He watched her for a second longer than necessary before he looked away again.
She caught it. Of course she did.
Mike had a way of looking at her without even realizing it — a glance that lingered too long, a subtle hesitation in his movements, the quiet tension in his body whenever she was too close. None of it was intentional; he was too sheepish to ever be obvious.
Vanessa almost liked it better that way.
She noticed everything, and over time, she’d learned how to guide those moments, how to let him notice her just enough to make him lean closer without saying a word.
That was the fun of it all.
She paused her brush mid-strand, tilting her head slightly to look over him. Nothing obvious, nothing direct, but just enough to make him shift again. His eyes met hers, he straightened his back a little, and he cleared his throat like he was searching for the right words to break the silence. His awareness of himself spiked subtly, even though he’d never admit it.
She finished brushing her hair and tucked it behind her ears so that it was out of her face. The stuffiness in the bathroom was starting to feel suffocating rather than comforting, and she braced her hands on the counter and met his gaze again. He offered her some amused smile, eyebrow raised and lips pursed.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, pushing herself upright and walking out of the bathroom. “Just done in here.”
Mike’s gaze followed her as she stepped into the bedroom, lingering in the doorway while she sat herself at the foot of the bed. She propped herself up on her hands and watched him for a moment before smiling.
“C’mere.”
He obliged, of course, but instead of sitting beside her like a normal person, he sank to the floor in front of her. His hand hooked around her calf, thumb tracing absentminded circles over her skin. He leaned his head against her knee, eyes blinking slowly with that dog-like affection she adored so much. She lifted a hand to card through his damp curls, brushing them back from his face.
“You look tired.”
“Mm,” he hummed, eyes-half lidded. “I am.”
Vanessa leaned forward a little, letting him settle back against her leg once she’d adjusted. She could feel his breathing deepen, steady but slow, and the faint heat of him pressed into her thigh made her pulse quicken.
“D’you have a good shower?” she asked, fingers still threading through his curls, letting her nails lightly graze the back of his neck.
He hummed again, soft and almost dreamy, but didn’t answer. Instead, his hand tightened slightly around her calf, a gentle squeeze in response. His eyes were closed, and she let out a quiet giggle.
“You’re going to fall asleep down there,” she teased. His eyes fluttered open then, and he shifted a little closer, head resting above her knee now. She swallowed, fighting the urge to let her legs part slightly, to feel the weight of him closer against her.
“I’m fine,” he said quietly, eyes searching her face like he was trying to figure something out.
“You sure?” she asked. “We can lay down if you want.”
He sighed deeply, almost like he was considering it, but then he pressed a kiss to her leg and smiled. “I’m okay.”
It was a small gesture, one he’d done purely on instinct, but she couldn’t help the warmth that rushed through her. Not that she said anything — she never did. She pulled her fingers from his hair, letting her pointer trace a soft line down his jaw, then down the slope of his neck.
He seemed to wake up at that, and Vanessa could feel the subtle tension in his neck under her finger, his grip on her calf tightening just a bit. He exhaled quietly through his nose, like he hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath.
Her finger lingered where his neck met his shoulder, just above the hem of his shirt, tracing lazy shapes and patterns with her nail.
“Does that feel good?” she asked, her voice soft.
He nodded immediately, then smiled at himself like he realized how fast he’d done it. “Yeah,” he said, a little breathless, “it does.”
“Good.” She let her fingers just barely tease under this shirt then, nails grazing and pressing before dancing back up his neck. She traced around his ear and smiled at the small shiver he let out.
Adoration was practically oozing out of his expression. He was watching her so intently, staying completely still under her touch. She brought her hand back up to his face and cupped his cheek, running her thumb under his eye.
She let her thumb linger there for a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth of his skin and the faint roughness she liked about him. He leaned into it without thinking, cheek pressing into her palm.
That did something to her — the ease of it, the way he trusted her touch so completely. She was aware of the shift in herself immediately, the slow click of attention locking in. She didn’t move away. She rarely did, once she got him like this.
His gaze flicked to her mouth and back up again, quick and unconscious, and she almost smiled. Almost. Instead, she softened her grip and traced her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone.
Vanessa wondered a lot if he had any idea how readable he was to her. Maybe it was the part of her that was raised to notice before reacting, to think before speaking, to always pay attention to every possible detail. Maybe it was that Mike had never quite learned to hide his expressions. Maybe it was a mix of both — and all the time she spent just watching him, simply because she could.
She shifted her leg just slightly — not enough to pull away, just enough to remind him she was there. His hand adjusted automatically, fingers spreading a little wider against her calf to keep her close. The movement felt possessive in a quiet, unthinking way.
Her chest warmed at the thought.
“You’re really not helping your case,” she murmured, tone light, almost amused.
“What case?” he asked, brow arched curiously.
“That you’re fine.”
His mouth twitched. “I am fine.”
“Mm.” She didn’t argue. Instead, her thumb drifted from his cheek to his jaw, following the line of it slowly. She felt the way his teeth clenched for half a second before he forced them to relax again.
She leaned back slightly on her free hand, drawing him in without meaning to. His head lifted from her leg, eyes tracking her face as if he didn’t want to miss anything. She could feel the air change between them, the easy quiet from before sharpening into something else — anticipation.
Her fingers trailed back up to his hair, and she thought about how easy it would be to grab hold, to tug him up until he was on top of her, to kiss him until her brain went quiet and all she could feel was him.
She didn’t though, only let her nails drag lightly across his scalp until his eyes closed again and he rested his head back down on her thigh. He wasn’t really tired — not anymore — more just caught up in the feeling of her against him.
She kept her touch light on purpose. She knew how easily she could change the tone just by curling her fingers, by applying a little pressure, by guiding directly instead of subtly. She didn’t want that yet. She liked him like this — receptive, unguarded, not bracing for the next thing.
His thumb started moving again against her calf, slow and absent, tracing the same small path over and over. She noticed how the movement changed when she dragged her nails a fraction lower through his hair, the way his breathing deepened without him opening his eyes.
“You okay?” she asked softly, not because she thought he wasn’t, but because she liked the way his attention snapped back to her when she spoke.
“Yeah,” he said, after a second. “I am.”
She hummed and let her hand drift from his hair to the back of his neck, thumb pressing into the spot she knew always made him soften.
After a while, he shifted again, lifting his head just enough to look at her. His eyes lingered with quiet, open attention.
“What?” she asked.
He hesitated, like he was weighing his words, or maybe just trying to figure out how to hold himself steady.
“Nothing,” he said finally, and she could hear the subtle catch in his voice.
She finally smiled. He didn’t look away.
His eyes flicked down again, purposefully this time, tracing the curve of her lips before snapping back up.
She leaned in then, leaned in until her mouth parted and she was so close to his lips that even the slightest movement would’ve brushed them together, but she didn’t move. She waited, letting her lips hover, keeping the distance between them. She let her hand stay at the base of his neck, scratching lightly just below his hairline.
His breath hitched. She felt it in the tiny shift of his shoulders, in the way his fingers pressed against her calf. He tilted forward, just a little, trying to close the distance between them.
She barely pulled back, just enough that the gap returned.
His jaw clenched faintly. He exhaled through his nose, a sharp little breath that was more frustration than anything else. He blinked up at her, eyes searching, a mixture of want and disbelief lingering in his gaze.
She brought her hand around to drag her thumb up his jaw, stopping once she got to his chin. He shivered slightly, lips parting, eyes locked on hers with that same pleading, taut expression.
She hooked her thumb under his chin and tilted his head up, just a little bit more, and let her thumb trace just below his bottom lip.
He leaned forward again.
She pulled back.
Just a fraction, her lips hovering just out of reach, and he let out a low breath.
“Vanessa,” he murmured, the sound almost lost in the quiet hum of the room.
Her chest tightened at the sound of her name, at the way he said it — not angry, not impatient, just full of want. She let the sound hang there, letting it brush against her without responding, and her eyes flicked down to his lips.
“Yeah?” she asked, let it graze against his mouth warmly, and the groan he let out made her head swim a bit.
This was always the hardest part — fighting between keeping him like this, like putty in her hands that she could mold however she wanted, or giving in to what she really wanted, which was to drag him up and let him exhaust her in the way only he could.
Mike never answered, only strained under her touch, eyes dark and needy and imploring.
She let her thumb drag to the corner of his mouth then, like she was wiping something away, and they were so close she could see the freckles dotting his nose.
“Is there something you want?” she finally asked, tilting her head in that calculated way she always did. He licked his bottom lip, and she could feel his grip tighten on her calf, nails slightly digging in to the point she had to hide a smile.
“You know what I want,” he mumbled back, breathing unsteady against her lips.
She smiled sweetly, tilting his head back a bit more, just enough that it almost strained. “Do I?”
He exhaled sharply, pressing a little closer without breaking the careful distance she held.
“Vanessa…” he murmured again, almost desperate now. “Please.”
God, it sounded so pretty coming from him.
She leaned in just enough that her nose brushed his, just enough that he could feel the promise of her mouth without getting it. She tilted her head, considering him with that same calm, knowing look.
“I just want to hear it,” she said gently.
His grip on her calf tightened again, then loosened, like he was catching himself. He let out a breathy, almost embarrassed laugh that didn’t quite mask how badly he wanted her. “You…” He stopped and swallowed. “You know.”
“I do,” she said quietly, lips curving even more.
She shifted before he could say anything else.
She scooted back on the bed, palms pressing into the mattress behind her as she moved, the space between them widening inch by inch. The loss of contact was immediate. She could tell by the way his head lifted, the way his hands hovered for half a second like they didn’t know what to do now that she wasn’t right there.
He stayed on the floor, looking up at her.
She almost wanted to tell him to stay, to see how long he’d sit and wait for her.
She settled closer to the headboard, one knee bending slightly, the other foot brushing the edge of the mattress. She watched him from there, entirely aware of how exposed he suddenly felt.
His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.
She watched as his hands pressed briefly onto the floor, then slowly, he shifted his weight forward. He stood up without breaking eye contact, like if he looked away even for a second the moment might disappear.
He stepped closer, one knee touching the mattress, then the other. He crawled until he was level with her, close enough now that she could feel the quiet tension humming off him. He stopped when he was looming over her, eyes dark and lips parted.
She tipped her chin up just slightly, enough to keep their eyes locked, enough to acknowledge how close he was without giving him more than that.
His hands came to rest on either side of her head, not trapping, but framing her. He hovered just above her, their stomachs grazing with each breath, and when Vanessa barely but deliberately spread her legs, he let out a soft groan that shot straight to her core.
She hooked her fingers under his shirt, letting him shift so that she could tug it up and over his head, tossing it onto the floor beside them. When he adjusted again, one of his legs slotted between hers, pressing up just enough that she could feel how wet she already was, soaking through the fabric of her boxers.
That did it.
She brought her hands up, wound them in his hair, and tugged down until his lips finally crashed into hers.
He kissed her like he’d been holding it back forever, lips claiming hers with a mix of urgency and reverence. Every brush of his mouth sent a shiver through her, and when he pressed down, letting their bodies fully meet, she couldn’t help the moan that slipped from her lips.
Vanessa tilted her head, letting him dominate the kiss just slightly, scratching in his hair until her hands slipped to his shoulders, feeling the way he fit against her perfectly. Her legs wrapped lightly around his, encouraging him to move closer and press up just a little bit harder.
It was hot and messy and deep in the way where her lips felt bruised and their tongues fought and she could feel the way her thoughts dulled until all she could think about was him.
He groaned again, low and hungry, hands tightening around her waist just barely, tugging her slightly into him without even realizing.
When she pulled back for air, she did it by biting down on his bottom lip and dragging it out until his eyes met hers and fuck, his pupils were completely blown and he was looking at her like his vision had tunneled and she was the only thing left in the world. He kissed her again, desperate and wanting, and he pulled her hips to grind against his leg.
It was the kind of thing that only came with knowing someone so well and having done this so many times before. It had taken them too long to get to this point — not because they didn’t want it, but because every glance, every brush of skin, every lingering moment had been charged with a tension neither of them was willing to rush.
They had waited because they already knew each other too well. She knew exactly how he reacted to the smallest touch, and he knew exactly how far he could push without shattering the moment. They had circled it, teasing it out, letting it build until neither of them could handle it any longer.
It had happened on a night where they both just knew. They’d ended up tangled in bed, naked and breathless, his hands holding hers. Their eyes never broke away from each other as they giggled and whispered until they both fell apart – and then did it again and again until their bodies gave out.
Her mind snapped back when he let a sound out into her mouth, some mix of need and impatience and she could feel his bulge press into her thigh. She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, and let her hands trail lightly down the bare skin of his sides.
He stiffened under her fingers for just a moment, then let out a low, shaky breath and pressed down harder, moving against her slow and subtly. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to ignite at the feeling, and she couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped.
“God, Vanessa,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough and ragged with need. His hands slid from her waist up to her ribs, thumbs tracing lightly as he broke away to trail sloppy, wet kisses down her jaw and onto her neck. She tipped her head for him, breaths coming out uneven, and she adjusted so he could rock between her legs.
He whimpered into the crook of her neck, an honest-to-god whine that ran hot all over her skin, and she let one of her hands run up to cup the side of his neck. He continued his ministrations, tongue and teeth grazing the sensitive area below her ear that pulled another groan from her throat.
“Mike,” she breathed, and she could tell by the way his lips suctioned to her neck that he was going to leave a mark — not that she cared. He didn’t leave them too often, but the thought of him leaving one now sent another wave of desire settling low in her stomach. He stayed for what felt like forever, and when he finally released her skin and pulled back to look, he met her eyes with a proud smile playing on his lips.
“Is it good?” she asked teasingly, running a thumb down his bottom lip.
“Some of my best work.”
He kissed her again before she could roll her eyes, then moved back down, peppering the soft skin of her throat until he reached the collar of her shirt. He tugged at it, reaching as much skin as he could until she brought her hand up to thread in his hair, tugging just enough to pull him away from her neck.
“You want it off?” she asked, letting her eyes take in how gone he already looked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Please.” His hands were already tugging at the hem. She sat up a bit and kissed him again before pulling away, letting him tug it up and over her head before laying back against the pillows, letting the cool air wash over her sticky skin. The hungry way his eyes raked over her bare chest was enough to make her cunt clench.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he murmured, pecking her lips once and then twice before trailing down again, this time running along the line of her collarbone. Vanessa let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh before his lips trailed lower, following the curve of her sternum. Her fingers tangled in his hair again, tugging him closer when he lingered, the warmth of him burning through her hot and steady.
“Mike…” she whispered, her voice husky, just enough to let him know how much she wanted him there. He paused for a fraction of a second, looking up at her with those wanting, desperate eyes, letting the weight of his gaze sink deep into her.
He trailed his lips lower, brushing over the swell of her breasts just enough to make her shiver. One hand moved to her hip while the other hovered over her ribs, tracing her curves as if memorizing them all over again. He pressed one firm kiss to the side of her breast, then left lighter kisses all around her nipple, watching her reaction like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Vanessa arched instinctively, a low moan slipping out, her hips pressing up to meet him.
“Please,” she whimpered quietly, chest heaving. He smiled wide, letting his tongue trace lightly over her left nipple before wrapping his lips around it, sucking and flicking his tongue in the way that had her head tipping back and breath stuttering.
It was one of those things she didn’t expect to enjoy, more just something she’d agreed to because he had asked her one night if she wanted to try it — definitely not because he wanted to do it. It didn’t take long, though, before they both realized just how sensitive she was there. Mike had taken his time, lips lingering and tongue teasing, slowly and patiently learning her reactions until she was squirming and whining and fucking soaked.
His dedication to proving a point was infuriating sometimes.
She whimpered at the attention from his tongue, and whenever he looked up at her with those intent eyes, gauging her reaction, she answered him with another breathy moan.
He finally released her left nipple and trailed over to the right, indulging so eagerly her breath caught in her throat and her hips bucked up against his cock straining through his shorts. His tongue stuttered at that, a painful breath coming from his nose that made her smile. She gripped his hair and pressed his face down until he picked his rhythm up again, making her arch underneath him.
Eventually, he tugged on her nipple until it released from his mouth with a pop, taking a second to breathe before trailing kisses lower until they pressed lightly to her scar. He slowed down for a moment, hands coming to rest on her hips as he let his lips softly trace over the line. Every time he kissed over it, it left her feeling overwhelmed in a way she couldn’t describe — some mix of love and appreciation and gratefulness that she never could quite articulate.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed into her skin, the hum of his voice calming the feeling that bubbled up inside of her. She watched him lazily, ran her fingers lightly through his hair and let herself sink into the moment rather than floating on top of it. He peppered it softly a few more times before he went to kiss lower, fingers grazing the hem of her boxers before she grabbed his hair a little sharply, hiding a smirk at the way he slightly winced.
As much as she would love to watch him bury his face between her thighs until she came all over his tongue, she wanted something else.
She dragged him up, up, up until he was hovering over her lips again, and she pulled him into a sweet kiss, pouring all of the feelings she couldn’t express into it. She didn’t let it last long before letting her hands run over his arms and situating her legs so she could flip him without warning. He landed on his back with a slight bounce as she pulled herself on top of him.
She straddled his thighs, just below where she could see the outline of his cock pressing up against his shorts. She shifted so she could pull them down, leaving him in just his boxers that did little to hide how painfully hard he was. She leaned forward slightly, letting her hands rest on his thighs as she studied the way his eyes darkened and how his jaw clenched and unclenched. He was trying to look calm, to hold some shred of control, but the way he was breathing told her everything she needed to know.
She let her fingers ever-so-slowly creep upwards until she pressed a hand over him, gripping gently through the fabric. She relished in the needy little whimper that slipped from his lips and the way his hips automatically jerked up.
“I barely touched you,” she teased, smiling wide as she gripped firmer now, and his chest was stuttering with shallow breaths as he watched her through half-lidded eyes.
“Vanessa, don’t,” he mumbled through clenched teeth, and she leaned forward more so that she could prop her free hand on his hip.
“Don’t what? Do this?” she asked innocently, tilting her head as her hand pumped him slowly.
He jerked again, tugging his lip between his teeth.
“Fuck, Ness.” His head tipped back a little, mouth slightly hanging open until she tugged at the waistband, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. She let her fingers trace up and down it lightly, watching the way it twitched under her touch. His whole body tensed at the contact, and she finally wrapped her hand fully around him, thumb tracing over the tip until he moaned louder.
“Tell me what you want, Mike,” Vanessa said, scooting a little closer so she could press his dick up against her lower stomach. She let her hand stroke him slowly, not enough for it to get him anywhere, but just enough that he’d whine if she stopped.
“I want you,” he breathed, shuddering and thrusting his hips up, hands curling uselessly against the bedsheets. She smiled and slowed her hand just enough to make him arch, the desperate breath passing his lips coming out strained and forced. She angled her hips just enough so that he could feel the wet fabric of his boxers that she was wearing pressed against him.
“You want me?” she repeated, letting her thumb trace through the line of pre-cum leaking out of his tip, using it to coat the head of his cock. “You need to be more specific than that.”
“Nessa,” he gasped out, eyes threatening to roll as his hips desperately tried to thrust into her hand, some broken rhythm that was only frustrating and tiring him out. “Fuck— please.”
“Please what, Mike?” She kept her tone light, infuriatingly calm and teasing as her free hand rubbed small, soothing circles into his hip.
“Please,” he started, taking what must’ve been an attempt at a deep, steadying breath. “Let me fuck you.”
She groaned at that, low and breathless, and her cunt fluttered at the words. “Say it again.”
“Please… please let me fuck you,” he repeated quickly, his words tumbling out before he could grasp any control over how desperate they sounded.
Vanessa smiled, stroking him one last time before letting him go, watching how he bucked up at the loss of her touch. She moved upwards then, crawling until she could capture his lips in a messy kiss that had the both of them moaning, Mike’s hands winding into her damp hair to pull her closer.
Her hand creeped back down to tease him some more, but what she didn’t expect was for his hands to slide to her waist so that he could flip them back over, Vanessa gasping when her back hit the mattress and Mike kneeled between her legs.
She propped herself up on her elbows, and for a second neither of them said anything, only smiled, eyes locked on each other in a quiet moment of reassurance that said they were both okay, that they both wanted this. As much as she loved the heat of the moment, she loved it even more when things slowed down just enough to remind her it was them.
Mike pulled his boxers the rest of the way down and off his legs, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of hers, looking up at her questioningly.
“Can I?”
She giggled and nodded, adjusted herself so he could tug them down her hips and legs, and she pressed her thighs together once they were completely off. Mike looked down and then back up at her, eyes full of mischief and anticipation, and when he parted her legs and finally saw her, he fucking moaned and gripped her thighs to keep them spread.
Vanessa could practically hear his thoughts, knew he was considering leaning down and running his tongue through the slick mess that had accumulated, and she nudged him with her knee to get his attention.
“Mike…” she hummed knowingly, trying not to smile. He was so hard to resist when he looked at her all wide-eyed and needy, but she knew if she let him dip his head down for even a moment that he wouldn't stop. The thought was too tempting, even for her.
“Sorry,” he murmured, shaking his head and letting his eyes linger for a second longer. “God, you’re so wet,” he continued, mostly to himself. It still ran through her, buzzing under her skin and twisting in her stomach.
“Shut up. I’m getting a condom.” She sat up a bit more and reached for the bedside drawer, pulling one out and handing it to him. She sighed a little regretfully.
Every time she had to grab a condom for him, she found herself on the verge of telling him they didn’t need it — that she wanted to feel him inside of her for real, wanted to feel him when he came, wanted to feel him, all of him — but she always came to her senses rather quickly because they didn’t need that risk, and neither of them could be trusted to ensure that if he wasn’t wearing a condom, he would pull out in time.
It still ached at her though, ached in a way she knew only he could fix.
He slid the condom on and nudged her legs apart a little more, leaning down and meeting her lips in a deep kiss and she felt herself relax again, let herself melt into his touch and let him trail a few more stray kisses down the side of her neck and onto her shoulder.
He was so affectionate like this that it actually killed her.
She shifted her hips a little and they both moaned — Vanessa at the friction against her clit, and Mike at the feel of her, hot and wet against his length. He kissed her face, trailing down from her temple to her cheek and finally he met her lips again. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, and she nipped his bottom lip roughly, soothing the bite with her tongue and drawing a soft whine from him.
“God,” he murmured against her lips, breath warm and uneven, like he was barely keeping himself together. One of his hands slid down to her inner thigh, fingers teasing over the sensitive skin.
She arched into him a little, chasing that friction again, grinding up against him until he sucked in a sharp breath. He kissed her again, slower this time. She could feel the way he was holding himself back, the way his body wanted to move faster than his head would let him. Her hands smoothed down his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath her palms, and she pulled him closer.
She gasped when she felt something press firmly on her clit, and broke the kiss to look down. He was holding his cock, pressing the tip of it straight against her, and she let out a breathless laugh that turned into a broken moan as he traced himself through her.
“Fuck,” she whined, the word slipping out before she could stop it as her hips bucked up into him. The sensation was already overwhelming — too much and not enough at all — and Mike let out a sigh that probably sounded needier than he meant it to.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Uh-huh,” she breathed, nodding, arms wrapping around his neck loosely.
He dragged in a shaky breath and leaned back down, kissing her again like he was trying to pour every ounce of restraint he had left into it. His forehead rested against hers when he pulled back, noses brushing, their breathing tangled and uneven.
He shifted just slightly, lining himself up with her opening. He paused there, right on the brink, holding himself still like it wasn’t taking everything in him not to push inside.
Vanessa held her breath with him, every nerve lit up, every thought narrowing down to the feel of him so close it almost hurt. Her arms tightened around his neck, keeping him there with her.
“You ready?” he asked, free hand squeezing her hip reassuringly. She nodded and brushed her lips against his — not because she wanted to kiss him, but because she needed some form of grounding contact once he slid inside.
He pushed into her slowly, the both of them groaning until he was fully inside, pressed deep until there was nowhere left to go.
He stayed there for a moment, forehead dropping to hers as they both tried to steady their breathing. His body trembled just slightly, like the restraint it had taken finally caught up to him. Vanessa tightened her arms around his neck, eyes fluttering as she adjusted to the feeling, the stretch from him making her ache so deeply she had to resist jerking her hips up.
He waited until she nodded, and his hands held her waist firmly as he finally moved again.
The first motion pulled a soft sound from her before she could stop it, her fingers flexing as her body reacted on instinct. The slowness made everything sharper, more intense, and she shifted slightly to meet him, legs hooking around his hips to keep him there.
He exhaled hard at that, a quiet, wrecked sound against her mouth, and his grip at her waist tensed before settling again. The careful pace didn’t last long, not really — each slow movement bled into the next, more sure of itself, like he was finding a rhythm he could hold without losing himself completely.
She arched into him automatically, letting her chest press to his, letting him feel how she reacted to each stroke. He let his head fall to the crook of her neck, pressing messy, desperate kisses to her warm skin, and muffling all the pretty noises he was starting to make.
She loved how vocal he was.
For a moment, she let herself melt against him, eyes fluttering shut at his tongue and teeth and the vibrations of his moans. Then, with a slow inhale, she slid her hands up to his face, cupping his jaw, and gently pulled him up so she could look at him.
“Wanna see you,” she started, having to think about each word as his hips snapped into her continuously, hitting her deep and sharp in the way that made her brain fog over. “Wanna hear you.”
He grunted at that, a painful little sound passing his lips as he moved one hand to brace by her head, propping himself up so that he could keep his head up.
“You feel so good,” he huffed, eyes desperately trying to stay open, and Vanessa couldn’t help but smile as she rolled her hips to meet his messy rhythm.
“Yeah? Tell me,” she encouraged, fingers pressing harder where she held his jaw, and he nodded quickly as his other hand dug into the milky skin of her thigh.
“So… so good, Nessa… so tight,” he babbled on, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t quite help himself anymore.
She never thought she’d enjoy talking during sex — was worried it would be awkward, that she’d say the wrong thing — but she couldn’t stop herself. She loved letting him know how good he felt, how wet he made her, how deep he was fucking her, and the way he pushed back — the way he would lose control just from her voice — only spurred her on even more.
“You’re so good,” she husked, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before her head tipped back and eyes rolled. “So fucking good.”
That prompted Mike to go faster, to go harder, like seeing her fall apart was the only thing that mattered to him.
Her lips parted in soft little pants as the coil of arousal would itself tighter, tighter, tighter with every roll of their hips meeting together. He pressed soft kisses to the line of her jaw until she brought her head forward again, and he bit his lip and tugged her down until she was flat against the bed rather than leaning against the pillows.
The change in position pressed him deeper, and they both moaned as he hovered over her now, hips grinding desperately into her and jaw hanging open with a look that said he was approaching the edge.
“Are you close, Mike?” she asked teasingly, rolled her hips up harder and he whined and nodded, leaning down to capture her lips in a messy kiss before pulling apart again, his rhythm getting desperate and frantic as he chased his high.
“Fuck, Van,” he groaned, voice ragged and eyes glassy, his teeth grazing her lips as his movements turned uncontrolled. She could feel him twitch inside of her, knowing he only needed a little bit more before he finished.
“Gonna cum inside of me?” she breathed, hands winding in his hair and tugging hard enough that he let out another shaky moan. There was a thrill in it that she couldn’t explain — knowing she could whisper something filthy, flash him one needy look, pull his hair a little too roughly — and he’d practically come undone on the spot.
“Fuck, I’m cumming— oh fuck,” he gasped, hips stuttering as his orgasm washed over him, thrusting into her continuously to chase it out inside of her. She held him there, pressed soft kisses to the skin she could reach, let him ride the wave until he finally slowed, panting and burying his face in her neck.
“Oh my god,” he mumbled, voice tired and muffled into her neck and she couldn’t help but smile, carding her fingers through his hair to help calm him down. He practically melted into her at the touch.
“You did so good for me,” she murmured, kissing his ear and he groaned and pushed himself back upright, kissing her slowly on the lips before pulling away with some determined look on his face.
“D’you wanna stay like this?” he asked, still breathing heavily, and she tilted her head in confusion until it hit her what he meant — that he was asking how she wanted to come. The thought alone made her clench around him.
“Let me get on top.”
He grinned at her, genuinely thrilled and she couldn’t help but giggle, pressing another kiss to his lips. He rolled until he was on his back again and tugged her on top, letting her straddle him and never once pulling out. He scooted up the bed a bit more so that he could rest against the headboard — so that he was sitting upright and could easily control her movements if he wanted to.
It made suddenly aware of how she was fucking throbbing around him.
She kissed him again, giving him more time to recover and calm down, and he happily indulged at the feeling of her lips on his.
“So pretty,” he murmured, arms wrapping around her body like he couldn’t get her close enough. “You’re so pretty. Wanna make you feel so good.”
The words came out honest and urgent against her lips, and they hit so deep in her cunt that her body tensed and her mind went completely blank.
He had no idea what he did to her, how easily he unraveled her, and it made her a little crazy sometimes – made her ache with the fact that she didn’t know how to say it out loud. So instead, she showed him, arms sliding around his neck as she pulled back just enough to watch his expression as she moved against him.
He gasped at the sudden roll of her hips, and he looked down and back up at her face like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to stare. His eyes darkened and something hungry flickered across his face as his hands gripped and tugged her hips into him.
“God, Mike,” she moaned, keeping one of her hands hooked around his neck and letting the other cup his face, thumb pressed to the corner of his mouth. She rolled her hips a little faster, and the hot pressure coiling inside returned faster than she expected it to.
He grunted, keeping a firm grip on her waist to keep her moving against him. Everything about it was hot and overwhelming and she felt so full that she couldn’t even control the moans slipping from her mouth anymore.
It felt like a call-and-response game, her whimpering setting off his moans, and he kept drawing her into him, leaving a trail of messy, hungry kisses along the curve of her throat.
“Just like that,” she whined, breath catching in ragged gasps. “Keep fucking me just like that.”
She closed her eyes and her breath caught when she felt his hand move, sliding down to rub at her clit because he knew that it would drive her up the wall.
“Oh my god,” she panted. She opened her eyes to see him watching her body, gaze fixed on the push and pull of her hips against him. She arched and pressed herself into him until he leaned down to drag his tongue over the curve of her chest, sending another wave of heat through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding him closer, needing the closeness just as much as the friction.
Everything blurred together — the heat, the movement, the way he seemed completely focused on her — and she tipped closer and closer, wrapped up in him and unable to separate where she ended and he began.
Her moans turned to quiet whimpers as she focused on the feeling building in her lower stomach. He knew she got quieter whenever she was close, so he kept pulling her into him even when her movements grew tired.
“I’ve got you,” he mumbled, let his lips graze her ear as she pressed her face closer to his neck, and he hissed when she dug her nails into the skin of his shoulder.
“Please,” she whispered, repeated it over and over into his skin and she screwed her eyes shut until fuck, she was cumming so hard her vision flashed white and her cunt was pulsing and her entire body writhed against him. She was grateful he kept her waist grinding into him so she could ride out the high, because she couldn’t feel her body anymore, only felt the waves of her orgasm coursing through her for what felt like forever.
When she finally sagged against him, spent and gasping, he brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her face and kissed her temple, rubbing her sides in soothing motions once her hips finally slowed. She shivered against him, still trembling from the waves that hadn’t quite faded, and he held her tighter, hands roaming over her back and sides.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment — they didn’t have to. Every ragged breath, every heartbeat thudding in sync, every soothing motion of hands on skin was enough.
She eventually let out a broken little laugh, half breath, half moan, and braced herself on his shoulders. She pushed herself upright, head still swimmy and body still boneless, and met his gaze. A stupid, smug little grin was playing on his lips.
“What?” she asked, head tilted and eyes narrowed.
“Nothing,” he said with a quick shrug, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.
“Nothing?” she pressed, letting her fingers dance up his chest until they curled around the back of his neck. “That smirk tells me otherwise.”
“Maybe,” he started, hands sliding fully around her, pulling her flush against him. “Maybe I just think you just look good.”
She scoffed — because of course she looked good, of course she was the hottest thing in the world when she was riding him and falling apart around him and moaning his name — but he never seemed to let her forget it.
It wasn’t lost on her how lucky she was.
Her lips curved into a grin as she leaned in for a slow, lazy kiss, speaking softly against his mouth just to hear his reaction.
“Yeah? You think I look good on top of you?”
The groan he let out ran all over her, and his lips captured hers again, deeper this time, tongue slipping past hers lazily. “So good,” he husked, tugging her just a fraction closer.
She giggled when he shifted, letting them fall back onto the pillows, the relief of not having to hold themselves up mingling with the warmth of being tangled together. She rested her head on his shoulder, tracing light, teasing lines across his chest with her fingers. He responded in kind, scratching up and down her back just enough to make her eyes flutter and breathing slow.
She could feel herself on the verge of dozing when he shifted again, hands bracing her hips.
“D’you need anything? Want some water?”
She pressed a lazy kiss to his collarbone, murmuring against his skin, “Mm… I’m good. Maybe in a minute.”
“Okay,” he said quietly, like he didn’t want to bother her any more. His hands eased, thumbs idly tracing over her hip bones.
She shifted closer without really thinking about it, her leg tangling with his, and the room felt heavy in that quiet, intimate way. Her finger kept moving over his chest, slower and more aimless, like she was half-asleep and didn’t quite know she was doing it.
“You gonna go to sleep?” he murmured after a moment, lips brushing her hair.
She sighed softly, weighing it in her mind for just a beat too long, then lifted herself slightly to meet his gaze. “Mm-mm,” she whispered. “I’m awake.”
His hand slid along her back, and he hummed softly, noncommittal but amused.
Her fingers resumed their lazy wandering, tracing the lines of his chest, down his stomach, finally settling on his hip.
“Vanessa,” he said quietly, a warning with no bite behind it.
She smiled innocently, tilting her head. “What?”
He didn’t answer right away, just shifted beneath her, letting her slide partially off him until they were side by side, chests pressed together, lips impossibly close.
“You know what you’re doing,” he murmured.
She shrugged, brushing her nose against his. “I told you I’m still awake.”
A low, breathy laugh slipped past him, and his gaze flicked down her body before meeting her eyes again, like he was deciding something he already knew. “Yeah,” he said, voice thick. “I can tell.”
He shifted again, slowly, until they were flipped, Vanessa beneath him again, her hands clutching his shoulders. At some point in the movement, he slipped out of her, and she could feel him, still hard, pressing against the slick mess between her legs.
“Seems like you’re awake too.”
“Oh my god,” he huffed a laugh, shaking his head before kissing her again, light and messy like he couldn’t get enough of her. “You’re not funny.”
He trailed down her jaw, wet and urgent, leaving a sloppy line of kisses over her collarbone before brushing over the center of her chest. His hands rested on either side of her ribs, holding her steady as he moved downward.
“Mike,” she breathed, hand threading into his hair, tugging him up slightly when he got to her lower stomach. “What’re you doing?”
He grinned, that knowing smile she hated and loved all at once, and slid his hands to grip her thighs.
“Spread your legs.”
Her mouth parted, breath hitching as she tried not to moan. Her hips lifted slightly, parting just enough for him, and she watched his grin widen.
He leaned closer, tracing slow kisses along the curve just above her hipbone. His breath ghosted over her, making her shiver, and she could feel the slight scrape of his teeth against her skin.
He trailed lower, lips hungry against her inner thighs, nudging her legs wider like he couldn’t wait another second.
“Mike…” she whispered, voice trembling, hips tilting toward him instinctively. Her fingers gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer until he was hovering directly over her.
He stayed there, letting her feel every second of anticipation, his breath ghosting warm over cunt. His eyes met hers, locked into the green of her gaze like he’d been waiting for this moment all night.
“Please,” was all she could manage, barely more than a breath.
He smiled and finally leaned in, tongue pressing exactly where she needed him most.
Her head fell back and her eyes fluttered closed, and she let herself drown in the feeling of him — of everything that was Mike.