Strange & Beautiful
folder
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,986
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,986
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
More Than A Memory
Author's Notes: Short, but it felt amazing to write. Enjoy it, love.
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The clock ticking on her dresser was the equivalent of nails across a chalkboard at that moment. She sat on the edge of the mattress, hunched over to hover above the crown of his head. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, head hung low and jaw taught. They weren't touching and it was killing her. Slowly, she let her fingertips touch the sides of his face, palms sliding up his cheeks until it was his entire head she was holding, gently, carefully. His hands shot up to curl around her wrists and a tiny gasp escaped the part in her lips; she was afraid he would push her away.
They had fought earlier. Their first. She couldn't even remember what it was about; it was probably stupid and immature and things that were never meant to be said were. Instead of sulking apart they were sulking together, upset with each other and themselves. She could feel his jaw tense under her hands and she felt her lower lip tremble. The girl pressed her lips into his hair as she slid to the floor in front of him, before drifting to his forehead and every other inch of his face.
"Oh…Tim, I'm sorry, I can't stay mad at you, I don't want to," she whispered against his face, feeling helpless in his hands.
He was nodding, pulling her into his lap while his face nuzzled hers, relishing the heavily missed warmth and comfort it gave him.
"I'm sorry too," he confessed before kissing her with all the tenderness he possessed. She brushed her fingers through his hair, feeling the rumble of a groan in his throat against her lips. Her tongue touched his lower one, and then her teeth were tugging at it as she moved to straddle his lap. The girl's hips rolled against him; another groan. She smiled through their kisses until he had her back pressed into the box spring, his left hand on the small of her back while its opposite sat on her inner thigh.
His mouth had traveled lower, past her jaw and to the nape of her neck, leaving fresh red marks everywhere he stopped. He was at the curve of her breast now, her breathing accelerated while her head tilted back onto the mattress. The hand that sat on her thigh had dipped lower, drifting across the soft cotton of her pajama bottoms and then pressing firmly into the warmth between her legs. With her weight balanced on the side of the bed, he used his other hand to lower the deep neck of her tank top; the moment her chest was free his lips were there to kiss and suckle every inch.
She was writhing under his touch. And when the hand in between her thighs slipped beneath the waistband and dipped inside of her, his name was the only thing she couldn't stop saying. He brought her mouth back to his quickly, desperate to have her lips. After every breath and before every lip lock, she had his name on every sigh, his fingers coming against her again and again. He could feel her shudder against his fingers, her pants turning into deep breaths while she held onto him tightly.
"Kristina…" he whispered, kissing her throat and pulling her back into his lap. The girl continued to hold onto him, her fingers in his hair, sliding over his shoulders and down his back. She wanted to hold onto this moment and burn it into her mind, so that she would never forget it for the rest of her life. Kristina held him to make sure he was real. To know that this wasn't all just a fantasy.
She felt his lips move against her collarbone, whispered words she couldn't make out.
------
The clock ticking on her dresser was the equivalent of nails across a chalkboard at that moment. She sat on the edge of the mattress, hunched over to hover above the crown of his head. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, head hung low and jaw taught. They weren't touching and it was killing her. Slowly, she let her fingertips touch the sides of his face, palms sliding up his cheeks until it was his entire head she was holding, gently, carefully. His hands shot up to curl around her wrists and a tiny gasp escaped the part in her lips; she was afraid he would push her away.
They had fought earlier. Their first. She couldn't even remember what it was about; it was probably stupid and immature and things that were never meant to be said were. Instead of sulking apart they were sulking together, upset with each other and themselves. She could feel his jaw tense under her hands and she felt her lower lip tremble. The girl pressed her lips into his hair as she slid to the floor in front of him, before drifting to his forehead and every other inch of his face.
"Oh…Tim, I'm sorry, I can't stay mad at you, I don't want to," she whispered against his face, feeling helpless in his hands.
He was nodding, pulling her into his lap while his face nuzzled hers, relishing the heavily missed warmth and comfort it gave him.
"I'm sorry too," he confessed before kissing her with all the tenderness he possessed. She brushed her fingers through his hair, feeling the rumble of a groan in his throat against her lips. Her tongue touched his lower one, and then her teeth were tugging at it as she moved to straddle his lap. The girl's hips rolled against him; another groan. She smiled through their kisses until he had her back pressed into the box spring, his left hand on the small of her back while its opposite sat on her inner thigh.
His mouth had traveled lower, past her jaw and to the nape of her neck, leaving fresh red marks everywhere he stopped. He was at the curve of her breast now, her breathing accelerated while her head tilted back onto the mattress. The hand that sat on her thigh had dipped lower, drifting across the soft cotton of her pajama bottoms and then pressing firmly into the warmth between her legs. With her weight balanced on the side of the bed, he used his other hand to lower the deep neck of her tank top; the moment her chest was free his lips were there to kiss and suckle every inch.
She was writhing under his touch. And when the hand in between her thighs slipped beneath the waistband and dipped inside of her, his name was the only thing she couldn't stop saying. He brought her mouth back to his quickly, desperate to have her lips. After every breath and before every lip lock, she had his name on every sigh, his fingers coming against her again and again. He could feel her shudder against his fingers, her pants turning into deep breaths while she held onto him tightly.
"Kristina…" he whispered, kissing her throat and pulling her back into his lap. The girl continued to hold onto him, her fingers in his hair, sliding over his shoulders and down his back. She wanted to hold onto this moment and burn it into her mind, so that she would never forget it for the rest of her life. Kristina held him to make sure he was real. To know that this wasn't all just a fantasy.
She felt his lips move against her collarbone, whispered words she couldn't make out.