Work Text:
“This doesn’t feel like waiting,” Mike gasps against her lips.
Ginny grins, reckless and bright as her fingers work at his belt. “Is that a complaint?”
“No.” His hands skim gingerly down her sides and Ginny shivers. She looks up at him and Mike looks a little lost, a little awed as he stares at the span of his hands on her waist. He swallows. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Me too,” she replies, tugging him closer by the belt loops. She’s still perched on the counter, but none of her goosebumps are from the cool surface. No, those are all courtesy of the man standing between her spread legs and the way he's just kissed her.
“You sure?” he asks, looking worried and still a little guilty.
Ginny wraps her legs around his hips and drags herself into him. It brings her flush against his chest, so she noses at the collar of his t-shirt. What? It’s right there.
“Positive,” she replies to his sternum.
“Just,” he says, even as her hands move from his open belt buckle to the hem of his shirt and his breath stutters, “this was a lot, today, and I’d understand if you—"
“Mike,” she cuts him off, laying her hands against his cheeks so he’ll stop trying so hard to look at anything but her. Ginny stares him down. "Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
He finally smiles, head tipping to the side shyly. “Why don’t you tell me?”
She laughs and pats his cheek again. “And inflate that ego of yours? I don’t think so.”
Biting back the “Besides, there’s something else I’d like to inflate,” takes too much effort for such a weak joke, but she manages it. Still, Mike must have learned to read minds or Ginny's just that transparent, because his smile turns predatory fast. His hips flex and Ginny is aware, once again, of just how little she’s wearing. Just how little separates her from Mike. And also, just how perfectly he fits against her. She's sitting at the perfect height for him to rut the bulge in his jeans into the cradle of her thighs, and that can't be a coincidence. Was it on purpose? Ginny's reasonably sure people don't design their kitchens with how easy it'll be to fuck in them, but—
Mike leans down and cuts off the slightly mad rush of thoughts with his mouth on hers. Everything goes blissfully quiet in Ginny's head, only the push and pull of his tongue against hers taking up any brain power. He's intent, practically plundering her mouth, and this time there’s no doubt about what it's leading to.
Heat licks through Ginny at the realization. This is happening. Right now.
Thank God.
She tugs impatiently at Mike’s shirt. He's fully clothed and she's barely wearing a bikini; it's just not fair.
Once Mike’s shirtless and Ginny’s occupied admiring the view—Really, it’s some kind of miracle that no one has snapped this man up. His arms alone. Jesus Christ!—he occupies himself.
His hands creep up her back and Ginny feels a slight tug at the strings holding her top to her chest. She leans into him, a silent encouragement, and the tug becomes a steady pull until the bow she’d tied minutes ago comes undone. Her bikini hangs just around her neck, but Mike’s hand smoothes down, not up.
Down, down until his fingers flirt with the waistband of her bottoms. His other hand lays heavily on her thigh, nails drumming against the smooth, taut skin. He doesn’t seem too intent on doing anything other than stare intensely, so Ginny reaches up to untie the last strings to both her bikini top and modesty herself.
Mike traces the movement, silent and intent as the shiny bit of swimwear drops a fraction of an inch before falling away completely.
Ginny’s entirely too gratified by the ragged breath he draws, but it’s balanced by the sudden impression of a statue he’s pulling. His fingertips dig into her skin ever so slightly, but otherwise the only part of him that moves are his eyes tracing over her bare torso.
She plants her palms behind her and leans back so she can give Mike a properly scorching look. If the pose does amazing things for her tits, then all the better.
“How much longer are you going to make me wait, Lawson?” she purrs, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Her heel traces a long line up the back of his thigh, dragging roughly against the denim.
He fucking gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing, and how does that turn her on even more? But his hand slides up from her thigh, over her stomach, across her ribs to rest right over her solar plexus. His big hand fills up the gap between her breasts. Ginny’s not sure if the shuddery way her lungs fill up is from the weight of his palm or the weight of his gaze. Either way, her nipples pebble in response.
“Impatient, are we, Baker?”
“You would be too if you’d spent the last month trying to get me to make a move,” she pouts. Pouts and shifts to work the fly of his jeans open. Ginny doesn’t mind being ogled as long as she gets something to ogle in return.
And Christ, Mike’s dick is something to ogle.
The minute her knuckles graze against the rapidly hardening flesh, Ginny knows that he’s going to be impressive. Bits and pieces of gossip that she’s heard over the years all seem to say the same thing, too. Well, Ginny wants to see for herself.
She leaves his jeans gaping open and lowers the waistband of his boxers just enough to free his still hardening dick. And holy shit. If that’s how big he is with a semi—
Ginny licks her lips at the thought and Mike breaks.
“This what you were waiting for, Gin?” he growls into her skin, beefy forearms banding around her back and dragging her even closer to him. Her ass is in danger of slipping off the counter. She can’t complain, though, not with the way he’s trapped his dick between them and it slides against her. Even through the fabric of her bikini bottoms, it’s good.
But Ginny wants amazing. Hell, she deserves it after the shit he's put her through this past month.
She nods in answer as her fingers fumble for the ties to her bottoms, trying to get them both undone as fast as possible. Finally, she shoves the fabric away and there’s nothing left between her and Mike.
His hand comes down between her and his cock and Ginny would protest, but then his blunt thumb is running over her pussy, trailing her arousal up to her clit and giving it a few taps. She groans in response and pushes up into him as much as she can.
“This what you wanted?” he asks, lowering himself until his breath fans across her inner thighs.
“Yes, yes!” she gasps, hardly caring that she seemed too eager. She is eager.
Eager for his mouth, his hands, anything that he’ll put on her. Even if his truly impressive package is no longer quite in her reach. She'll get her chance, that's for sure.
Mike encourages her legs over his shoulders and wraps his arms around her thighs so his hands can rest on the low jut of her abs. One of Ginny’s hands buries itself into his hair, the other bracing her upright. There's no way she's missing out on this show. At the slight tug of her fingers on his scalp, Mike glances up at her, makes eye contact as his tongue first swipes up her glistening folds.
Ginny’s elbow almost buckles it feels so fucking good.
The breath rushes from her lungs and she can feel the cocksure smirk against her aching cunt, but can’t bring herself to care. His fucking tongue curls and flicks over her and Ginny is awash in pleasure. He trades long, easy strokes with pointed thrusts and quick circles, random enough to keep her guessing and gasping at each change. His arm curves over her belly, keeps her hips pinned to the granite even when she tries to use her legs on his back as leverage. Fuck he's strong. It makes Ginny shudder just thinking about his powerful body hovering over hers as he pounds into her. The thought alone is enough to send her sailing right up and over the edge with a curse.
Mike backs off enough to let her readjust, but he doesn't rise from his position between her thighs. He lays kitten licks against the outer lips of her still trembling cunt, even drags his chin gently over the sensitive flesh. Ginny pants and tugs at his arm, trying to get him to rise, but he just gives her a filthy grin—literally; his mouth shines with her arousal—and dives back in.
This time, he adds his thick fingers to the mix, rough and callused compared to the slick flexibility of his tongue. The glide and hitch of his digits inside her is enough to start her trembling again. With a hiss, she falls back against the counter, back arching as it makes contact with the cold surface.
She gives into the sensations.
In all honesty, Ginny loses track of how many times he makes her fall apart. At least twice more, but she suspects more from the way she can’t quite catch her breath and her thighs still quake on his shoulders when she finally resurfaces.
If he’s not careful, he’s going to wear her out before she really gets a taste of that dick of his. And that would be a shame.
“Mike,” she murmurs, hazy but still aching for him. He glances up her body and into her eyes, but doesn’t move his mouth from her inner thigh. “Mike,” she repeats, more insistent, “I want you inside me. Now.”
His mouth stutters to a stop and Ginny would swear he curses into the crease of her hip before rising, a predatory glint in his eye.
When he stands, his hips are just at the right height to fuck her where she’s perched. Idly, absurdly, she wonders again if that was on purpose. But then, her attention is caught by the hand Mike wraps around his red, weeping cock, stroking himself lightly as he looks down at her.
“You want me to fuck you, Gin? Fill up that pretty pussy of yours with my dick and make you come again? You’re gonna look so good coming apart while I’m buried inside you," he promises in a low growl that makes her toes curl as much as his lips wrapped around her clit had.
Holy fuck. If Ginny’d known that this is what Mike Lawson gets like when he’s aroused, she wouldn’t have waited for him to make a move. She would have jumped him herself.
His words send a rush of warm want straight between her legs and Ginny nods eagerly. Big fist still wrapped around his thick shaft, Mike ruts up against her slick entrance. The sound they make is obscene, Ginny’s sharp moan twining around his lower grunt. Just as he angles his cock, about to press into her, Ginny realizes something.
“Condom?”
Mike curses, but pulls away immediately. He runs a hand over his face and his cock bobs in the air. Ginny follows the motion, almost hypnotized.“They’re upstairs in the bathroom. I’ll go, just don’t—“
“No,” she cuts him off, tearing her eyes away from his erection, “I have some in my bag? It’s just—“ Ginny pushes herself up to wave at where her purse sits on the couch.
Dutifully, Mike retrieves the bag and Ginny manages to find the strip of condoms that she’d stashed inside when she first started trying to bait him into confessing his feelings or at least making a move. She tears a packet off and hands it over. Mike takes it wordlessly, but stares her down, face blank.
She flushes at the attention, hoping that he’s not going to make this into some weird thing. So what if she carries condoms around? She’s just proven that it’s always good to be prepared. Anyway, it’s not like she’s been using them all the time—not that it should be a problem if she were.
But he doesn’t offer up any kind of passive-aggressive comment. The vaguely terrifying blankness gives way to something much warmer and the pit in Ginny's stomach starts to fill in. He rolls the rubber on and looks down at her with such affection and awe on his face, Ginny wants to squirm or lay back and stare at the ceiling. Anything to avoid the intensity of his gaze. “You really have been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, curling her fist around his covered shaft and guiding him right where she wants him. There'll be time for the mushy stuff later. Right now, she wants something more physical. “Don’t make me wait much longer.”
Mike is thankfully in agreement on that front and it takes little effort for him to glide into her. That's how wet he's gotten her. Even with the biggest dick—impressively thick and probably above average in length with a slight upward curve—Ginny's seen in person, he eases in on one steady thrust. Ginny can feel the stretch of him, relishes it even, but there's nothing uncomfortable about it. Her body welcomes him and Ginny sighs when his hips come up flush against hers. He urges her to lay back again, one hand coming up to rest in the middle of her chest until he’s sure she’ll stay down. Ginny does if only because the first true heavy, slick thrust of his dick into her waiting pussy is almost overwhelming.
He’d stretched her out on his fingers, but this is more. This has Ginny’s toes curling and her heels digging into his ass to urge him deeper. She wants this feeling, this all over electric feeling, to consume her.
Her fingers make their way to her sensitive nipples, rolling and pinching. Mike quickly takes over, his big hands cupping her, thumbs perfectly placed to strum over the pebbled peaks. Coupled with the easy rhythm he’d set with his hips, Ginny’s feeling pretty pleased with herself.
She gasps as Mike’s hips hitch, hitting somewhere inside her that makes her see stars.
“Fuck!” she groans, legs tightening around his waist in encouragement. She does her best to use the leverage to meet him thrust for thrust.
Mike grins, dark and filthy and it goes straight to Ginny’s cunt. She clenches around him and Mike’s grin turns smug. “You like that, Gin? You like my cock inside you?”
She hums in acknowledgment and it turns into a loud groan when Mike unwraps her legs from his waist and props her ankles on his shoulders. His strong arm wraps around her thighs and the change in angle has Ginny wanting to crawl out of her skin with pleasure.
“Harder, Mike. Please,” she begds, her fingers digging into his wrist as she struggles to anchor herself.
He growls and sets a harsher pace, one that has Ginny thankful for the cool stone at her back. He’s practically setting her on fire. With the new angle and the sharper thrusts, Ginny becomes certain that he’s going to make her come again. And fucking soon.
Mike must figure that out. Between her heaving chest and the way she can’t stop moaning, it’s pretty obvious. He leans into her, pressing her legs into her chest. Still, he doesn't falter from the hard rhythm he'd established.
The weight of him and the rasp of his beard against her calves has Ginny fucking panting. But she wants her hands on him. Wants to drag out even a fraction of the sensations he's elicited in her from him.
She wriggles, uses her superior flexibility to get herself in a position she likes. His arms catch her knees when she slides her legs off his shoulders and she uses every ounce of her core strength to push herself upright. Ginny wraps her arms around his neck and busies herself with sucking bruising marks onto Mike's skin. The heat radiating off his broad chest and into her is exactly what she wants. Added to the exquisite stretch of his cock sliding into her deep and strong, Ginny can’t quite fathom how she managed to go so long without this in her life.
Ginny feels the telltale flutter in her belly and thighs. Mike must feel it, too, because he groans and drops his forehead to her shoulder.
“You gonna come for me again?” he rumbles, his lips catching on her collarbone.
Ginny’s back arches and her clit catches against Mike’s pubic bone on every thrust.
Yeah. Yeah she definitely is.
She manages a nod, words beyond the blissed out haze taking over her brain.
“Good girl,” he encourages, his brow furrowing in concentration. He must be getting close, too. He manages to free an arm from under her leg, and braces it up her back, huge hand cuffing the back of her neck. "Want you to look at me when you come. Want you right with me, Gin.”
His hazel eyes are intent, different from the way he’d ever looked at her on the field. If he’d ever looked like this, Ginny definitely wouldn’t have been able to hold herself back. She would have climbed Mike Lawson like a tree and not cared about the consequences.
“With you,” she manages to gasp out, laying her palms flat against the side of his neck and staring straight into his eyes.
She couldn’t say what it is that sets her off once more. Aside from everything, of course. The feel of Mike inside and around her, eyes locked together, pushes Ginny over the edge and the fluttering pulses of her cunt must drag Mike along, too. He manages a few last sloppy thrusts before spilling inside the condom.
When Ginny finally gets her breathing to even out, she untangles her leg from Mike’s arm and gingerly settles them back on the counter. The cool shock of the surface cuts through the post-coital haze, but Ginny ignores the way the world comes back into focus. She stretches her arms overhead and grins at the way Mike traces her every move. Rather than bring them back to her side, she settles her forearms on his shoulders, unwilling to give him any opening to move away. And the way he's looking vaguely shellshocked is making her think that he might try and make a break for it.
Not on her watch.
“So,” she drawls, while Mike takes care of the condom. Her voice rasps pleasantly and Ginny wonders how far gone she’d been that she didn’t notice how loud she was getting. It sends a tingle all the way through her core. “That happened.”
Mike watches her in wary silence, like he thinks that she might try to walk this back. Like he still doesn’t believe she wants him.
That’s no good.
Ginny leans in and lays a soft kiss against his lips. He still tastes a little like her, which isn’t shocking considering how much time he’d spent between her legs. She licks into him, fingers spearing into his hair and her chest bumping against his. When his hands finally settle on her skin again, Ginny hums her approval, gentling against his mouth, but not pulling away. She doesn't do that until Mike's kiss turns heated, pressing back against her invasion and his fingers tightening on her. With a last nip to his bottom lip, Ginny pulls back and looks up at him through her eyelashes.
“Before round two starts, though, I’m gonna need you to finish making me that sandwich.”
Mike bursts into laughter, fondness and relief flooding his face. He brings a hand up to cup her jaw and lays another kiss on her mouth.
“Is that how it’s gonna be?” he teases.
“Well, yeah.” Ginny’s grin is so wide it threatens to spill off her face. “After all, who’s the major league superstar here and who’s unemployed? I’ll let you be my kept man,” she wheedles, scrunching up her nose at him.
Mike’s smile rivals hers. His eyes roam her face, grin growing every second that he stares. A thumb catches in the groove of her dimple and her smile somehow widens again.
“You’ll let me, huh? And what do you want in return, superstar?”
Ginny hums in thought, trying to bite back her giggles. She settles on, “Why don’t we start with that sandwich and round two and go from there?”
Only because “Marry me for real,” seems pretty demanding after a handful of orgasms.
Even if it’s true.
“Yeah,” Mike agrees, taking a step back but offering her a hand down. “We’ll go from there."
She smiles, takes his hand, and leaps.
Luckily for Ginny, Mike didn't seem to think that "Marry me for real," was an absurd demand at all. Especially when they'd both been in love with each other for years. They'd had more than enough of being patient and biding their time.
So, the next time Ginny Baker walked down the aisle, blessedly sober this time around, it was hardly three months later.
When she put her hand in his at the altar, all she could think was one word:
Finally.