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It had been two weeks since Y/N last saw Soldier Boy.
As the days passed, it was getting harder to ignore what was happening in the country. With every news report or segment on VNN, it was becoming apparent that Homelander was more unhinged than ever before. Declaring himself God and forcing people to follow him was a new low for Vought, but she shouldn’t have been surprised that they were scared to shut down a problem of their own making. She knew they would never right their wrongs, they wouldn’t stop Homelander from doing what he wanted, but she felt a disappointment settle in over the last several days that Ben had fallen prey to all of it again.
She wasn’t shocked. Everything he had done had been in service of the company rather than the country, whatever he believed. Unlike Homelander however, he never delusionally declared himself a deity and had people blatantly follow him. So, while she hoped that he would come to his senses, she knew in reality that it would never happen.
She also knew it was only a matter of time before he found her, no doubt to keep in line with whatever his son wanted. She didn’t know for sure, but considering they had been in search of V1 and now Homelander was acting more invincible than ever before, she had to conclude they had found the original serum. It would devastate her to leave the only refuge she had ever known, if it came to that. She knew she should go before either Soldier Boy or Homelander came for her, but she had never been one to back down from a fight.
She packed two bags and collected the money she had stashed, anyway. As a precaution.
She had a strange feeling of deja vu to a few years ago when she had tried to flee, and Ben had found her on that fateful night. The night that really changed so much between them. Well, for her at least, their fleeting tryst on the floor of her living room that gave way to feelings she didn’t understand. She knew what the exact feeling was, but she dare not say it out loud. He was everything she despised: leading with ego and arrogance, machismo to the max, entitled swagger that he didn’t know how to control, misogyny dripping off him; a complete brute. In between all of that, however, was a broken and vulnerable man that she had no intention of fixing.
Because she wasn’t the epitome of goodness, either.
She had done her best to save people, but considering it was crime fighting under Vought naturally it wasn’t what she had believed it to be. There were unnecessary casualties along the way, causing her to become cynical and bitter, the fire that kept her going being snuffed out long before she finally couldn’t take it anymore. No amount of alcohol, drugs or sex could fix any of it, and yet those vices were all any of them had to keep going day by day.
So they were the same, and there was no denying it no matter how she tried.
After the way that she had left him, in quite literally the most explosive manner, she took some time to reflect on all that transpired between them. Through all the literal blows and vitriolic words, through the equally brutal sex and the euphoric haze that came with it, they had come to understand each other in some strange way. So after she cut ties in such a dramatic fashion, she knew she’d never see him again, but the realization didn’t delight her in the slightest. So, she did what she did best. She turned to those vices that sustained her yet again. Alcohol, drugs… and well, she supposed she’d have to abstain from sex for a while.
Who could ever compare to him anyway?
Soldier Boy had watched the demise of Homelander on live TV just like the rest of the country.
While he had planned to be on his way to Colombia by now, his son had other plans for him in the form of keeping him hostage. Rather than keeping him in the basement cells like others that had wronged Homelander, he had been on a permanent lockdown in his apartment. Which was now fully renovated after the brief halt thanks to Y/N’s pyromania. He supposed he should be thankful not to be locked away in the cells with the likes of Stan Edgar, but that didn’t mean he liked his plan being derailed. He had finally had enough of his son’s antics, and a clear line drawn in the sand with his departure would’ve been best for everyone involved.
Colombia had been a cover story for the most part.
Soldier Boy didn’t want Homelander knowing his real intention - to find Y/N. The last thing he needed was to be followed by crime analytics or by him. So he thought that Colombia was the best place to use as an excuse to make a quick exit, and use the last of Vought’s resources available to him to get to her. He remembered where she was located from his last conjugal visit, so that wasn’t the issue. It was the fact that she most likely wouldn’t want to hear him out, but she was going to have to. He had come to the conclusion that his decision to give Homelander the V1 was a bad idea, very soon after the fact. He told Homelander the words he wanted to hear - that Clara would’ve wanted him to have it in order to become the superior being she always believed they could make.
He as Soldier Boy had never been up to the task, and ultimately failed in her eyes. So maybe his son could be. It became apparent really quickly that it had only driven him to further delusions of grandeur, of becoming a god. Or rather, God. It was a ridiculous notion and one he wanted no part of, so he decided to part ways while he still could. He was met with protest, which he suspected had more to do with Homelander’s ego rather than actually wanting his father there.
And that was how he found himself locked inside his own penthouse, with no escape. He tried everything, hell he even tried breaking down the doors with his blast, but clearly they had found a weakness in him that even he wasn’t aware of. Whatever they had reinforced the doors with did seem to be weakening, however, and maybe he’d find his refuge soon.
It was the next morning when the broadcast from the White House started. He saw the way Homelander sat behind that desk, a desk he had seen many far more competent leaders behind, and the way he began his speech to the public. He decided it wasn’t too early for a glass of Bourbon. The events unfolded far too quickly after that. The camera falling to the floor, punches being thrown, glimpses of Butcher and Ryan as they fought Homelander, and then a bright light filled the room, not unlike his own power with the chest blast.
He sat forward in his seat, eyes glued to the screen as his son begged for his life, offered to suck dick and eat shit on live television for the entire country to see, all in the name of self preservation. Any feeling of respect or familial bond left him as he watched the disappointment that he turned out to be, his own flesh and blood. So, as he witnessed Butcher deliver the final blow, a crowbar to Homelander’s head, brains splattered against the presidential desk, he tipped his glass in a salute of cheers to the screen. Whatever contention he had with Butcher didn’t negate the fact that he did something no one else could, and he had to commend him for that fact.
He threw back the rest of his drink, stepping up in front of the shut doors. He felt the surge of energy flow through him, light glowing from under his suit as he growled, before it burst forward. It lasted several moments before he groaned in slight pain, the light dying and giving way to the doors caved in, completely scorched and melted by his power. Finally, without even a glance back into the apartment, he walked out.
Leaving behind the memory of his sorry excuse for a son. Leaving Vought behind.
A place he had been tied to for over 80 years. 40 in active duty, being used as their pawn under the disguise of fame. Another 40 as a ghost story, only to find out he was double crossed by his own team. It was strange to think there would no longer be a safety net, some sense of security, but in reality, he never really had it. Being handed over to the Russians was the first sign of that. So before Vought could do anything to him again, it was time to put his trust in something else. Someone else. Someone who had asked for it and he had stupidly betrayed in return.
With one member of the security team who was still a part of supe detail, they began the long drive to the home that Y/N had acquired from The Legend in retirement from Vought. Something they owed her after everything they had put her through. He had no idea what was awaiting him, all he knew was the fiery woman he had come to unexpectedly feel something for wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He wasn’t sure he wanted it any other way, either.
He just hoped that yet another reunion between them ended the way they always had.
Homelander with his head slashed open, lying on the floor of the White House.
A news report confirming him dead.
That morning had found her slightly more sober than she had been in the last few days. With every news report, it was very clear that things were unsafe out there. There was no one she could turn to, having cut all communication to The Legend knowing it wasn’t ideal for either of them to be talking. She decided that she needed to head somewhere outside of the States if things escalated. Somewhere she could be well hidden and no one would find her, until it was safe to return home. She had resigned herself to the thought that the bags she had packed were now absolutely necessary. After a quick turn into town to get some things she needed, she flicked the television on in the background, typing different destinations in the search, a cigarette dangling between her lips.
And that was when she saw it.
Something flashed across the screen in her peripheral, causing her to lift her head. She frowned at the low volume and picked up the remote, her eyes widened at the scene that unfolded before her.
Homelander. Dead.
She stepped back, fumbling to sit in the chair and steady herself. She could barely believe it. She had never known the full extent of his cruelty, but she had heard whisperings over the years, and now… it was all over. A small smile pulled at her lips knowing that he would never hurt anyone or spew absolute hypocrisy ever again. Just as quickly, however, the smile fell when she thought about Ben. Did he know what happened? Was he even alive? Did Homelander kill him before his one last mission to convert the masses?
She picked up her phone, staring down at the black screen. She wasn’t even sure who to call. It was quite possible that no one in that Vought building knew what happened to him. She wasn’t sure who of the Seven was still alive, and quite frankly, none of them could be trusted. She could go to him, she could pick up her keys, storm out of the house, drive like a maniac back to New York and try to find him. She could do it, she could finally make up for all the other times she had failed to find him.
Just as the thoughts rushed through her mind, she placed the phone down. She couldn’t betray the decision she made to leave him behind. He had V1, he was immortal and he was fine. He was probably off grid somewhere, enjoying copious amounts of booze, drugs and women. He was alive and he had the freedom to go wherever he wanted now. He didn’t need her. So he was long gone, and he was fine.
She repeated that thought to herself as night fell.
Feeling every part of herself relax knowing the threat was over, she rolled a joint for herself before she undressed. She tied her silk robe around her naked frame, taking the joint and tumbler of whiskey onto the back porch. She made her way to one of the chairs, sitting back before she clicked her fingers, bringing the small flame to the end of the joint. The wood deck overlooked a backyard that led straight into the forest, the chirp of crickets loud as the only light came from the moonlit sky. The days had gotten warmer, but the nights remained cold, the icy chill in the air kissing any exposed expanse of skin as she laid back in the lounger. She ran warm naturally, but every now and then the slight breeze managed to make her shiver. It felt good, to actually feel something. With no one around for several miles, she enjoyed the privacy she had, with no need to look out for anyone or anything as her hand slipped into the opening of her robe. She pulled it aside, exposing her breasts to the night air, the cold causing her nipples to stiffen into hard peaks, her hand descending further down between her legs as she took a drag of the joint, her eyes closing.
Flashes of those few days of bliss with him in Vought tower crossed her mind; every rough kiss, every hair pull, every thrust, every mind blowing orgasm that left her vision star spangled. There were moments in between all of that too: the lighter kisses, a tender caress of her jaw, filthy words juxtaposed with the act of whispering them softly into her ear, looks shared that left both of them ablaze, all things she didn’t think he even realized he was capable of. Coming from somewhere so deep within him, a place he hadn’t tapped into in decades.
And yet, it was all for her.
A soft moan fell from her lips as her fingers slid between her folds, the chill blowing over exposed body as she continued to imagine his hand at her wet heat instead of her own. His lips sucking at her swollen nub, his tongue delving into her tight canal before moving down to a place she hadn’t let many others explore. Quite frankly, no one had been as enthusiastic as him to do that to her. She bit her lip as her legs widened, getting lost in the fantasy of him pleasuring her, so lost she didn’t hear the crunching of leaves and twigs under heavy footfalls.
“So this is how you take advantage of being all alone out here, huh?”
Y/N let out a terrified shriek as she sat up, pulling her hand away as her legs snapped closed, breathing heavily. She pulled her robe back over to cover herself, as she saw a figure cast in shadow, the familiar silhouette standing at the bottom of the porch stairs as the gold accents of his suit gleamed in the moonlight. She stood up slowly, unable to really see his face as she dropped the joint on the deck, putting it out with her bare foot and feeling it singe her skin before it healed just as quick.
“Wh-What are you doing here?” she stuttered.
Soldier Boy took a few steps forward, the light cast from the moon revealing more of his face to her. It was set in an almost unreadable expression, his brows furrowed as he looked up at her. His stance was strong, shoulders squared and arms at his sides, looking like the perfect soldier but she knew better. The tightness in his jaw told her he was holding something back.
“He’s dead,” he said, his voice deep and rough as it cut through the chirp of crickets. He knew he didn’t need to elaborate on who he was referring to.
“I know,” she muttered, pulling her robe tighter around her body. “So you decided to come back here, now that he’s dead and do what exactly?”
He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his features. “I think your little show was a good idea of what.”
“I don’t want you here,” she stated, glaring at him as she ignored what he said.
He watched the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossing her arms over herself, her hand lightly scratching at her neck. There were all tell tale signs that she was nervous, and all things that he could use to his advantage. She was lying to him, and to herself and he was going to have to do something about that. If he had to start with his own truth, then so be it.
“You were right, okay? About a lotta things, but mostly about him. There aren’t many regrets I have in life but trusting him over you… that was a stupid move,” he explained, clearing the first barrier between them.
He saw the way her shoulders slumped, no doubt surprised by his honesty. Hell, he was too but he was ready to clear the air between them. Slowly, he walked up the stairs, his eyes connecting with hers even through the darkness but she shuffled back the closer he got.
She shook her head, walking backwards towards the french doors leading to the deck. “I told you… I told you I wasn’t going to do this with you again and I meant it.”
“You know you can’t stay away from me for too long, Y/N,” he called her out, smirking.
She scoffed before turning around, rushing towards the doors back into the house. She looked over her shoulder as she attempted to shut them, but his hands came up to block her from doing so. She stumbled back as he followed her in, sauntering towards her. He was merely inches from her, his eyes intense as he gazed down at her.
“Look, if I gotta drag you to Colombia with me kicking and screaming… well I’d prefer to hear you screaming once we get there,” he stated, a slow grin pulling at his lips.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snapped. “Not after what you did to me.”
“I meant what I said before, Y/N,” he started, his snark dropping instantly and giving way to sincerity. “What I did to you… I fucking regretted it the second I did it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
He leaned in slightly, his eyes flitting between hers and her lips. “Let me make it up to you, then.”
“No,” she spat.
A rough hum escaped him as he lifted his fingers, lightly holding her chin. “Oh come on, don’t be like that, doll. You and me, snorting, sucking and fucking our way through Bogota’s gonna be real swell. So, what do you say?”
She smacked his hand away, glaring up at him. “You think you can just fucking waltz in here and I’ll fold for you?”
“Well, yeah, you fold pretty easy,” he winked.
“Not this time,” she mumbled, her voice wavering. “I hate you.”
She didn’t know who she was trying to convince, herself or him, but it was no use. He leaned down further, their faces close as he peered into her eyes. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, thumbs lightly caressing the soft fabric of her robe as he felt her tense, a sharp inhale of her breath causing him to smirk. He had her. He knew he had her.
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at her. “You can’t fool me, sugar. I know you’re carrying a torch for me.”
She lifted her hands and pushed at his chest, her lips pursing in frustration when he didn’t budge. “You’re fucking insane.”
“Maybe so, but I’m sure as fuck not wrong about this,” he whispered, not breaking eye contact with her.
“Yeah? What makes you sure?”
His lips brushed over hers as he smirked lightly, closing the small gap between them as his mouth fused over hers. She breathed in harshly through her nose, her hands grasping at his vest, clinging to him desperately as he wrapped his arms around her. She fell into the kiss immediately, and she hated that so much. She was mad at herself, but she was absolutely livid with the traitorous bitch between her legs that grew wet instantly from just a fleeting embrace. She pulled back harshly, lifting her hand and slapping him across his face but it made no difference. He chuckled, the sound a little sinister as they both knew he had already proven his point.
She huffed at the sound of his laugh, shaking her head. “Fine! I am, okay? I’m not emotionally stunted like you but it’s not like it matters. So, you can kindly fuck off now.”
She tried to push away him once more, but he stood his ground as he maintained the powerful gaze between them. Despite the lingering tension in the air, feelings only partially spoken, they both knew that while they feel something, it would never manifest in a normal way. They were supes, they would never have a sense of normalcy that everyone else did, which meant they didn’t have to express themselves the same way, either. He was quite sure that neither of them even desired to.
“You ain’t lookin’ for flowers and chocolates and all that romantic shit from me, are ya?” he asked, firmly.
She visibly cringed at the thought. “Fuck no, I hate that crap.”
He nodded, slowly. “Then what do ya wanna hear from me?”
Y/N opened and closed several times, trying to find the words she needed to tell him exactly what she wanted. Theirs would never be a traditional relationship, and she didn’t even want that. She had it once, and it ended up almost destroying her. With the lack of words, she tried once more to pull away from him, but his strong arms around her waist kept her in place. His eyes never tore away from her as the silence dragged on, the tension so thick between them you couldn’t cut through it with any weapon.
“You wanna hear that I think you’re a goddamn fucking knockout, is that it?” he asked, breaking the silence with his rough timbre.
She gasped softly as she saw his green eyes darken. Slowly, he turned around and guided her backwards by her waist, their steps trepidatious as their gazes remained locked on each other.
“Or that you’re the only dame that’s ever made my heart race as hard as you’ve gotten my dick, that what you wanna hear?”
With each word and each step, he deliberately moved them back towards the dining table. She whimpered at his words, an arousal building inside her at his honesty, something she never thought she needed. The curve of her lower back pressed into the edge of the table, and before she knew it, he bent slightly to grasp her thighs, lifting her up to sit on the surface in one swift move. His lips captured hers in a rough kiss, the intensity not easing in the slightest as he trailed a path along her jaw. He moved down her neck, lingering on the spot he had so ruthlessly shoved a needle into, now free of the discolored bruise. His lips roamed over her chest, pulling the tie of her robe to fall open and reveal more of her to him. His tongue left a wet line down her breast, her head falling back as his mouth closed around her nipple. She hissed as his teeth grazed over her, their eyes meeting as he pulled back slightly.
“Or maybe you wanna hear that knowing you were the only one who ever tried to look for me…” he started, his hands gliding over her thighs as he spread them apart, exposing her wet heat. He never broke eye contact as he sank down slowly, her eyes widening as he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Sets my soul on fucking fire and makes me a total goner for you, doll.”
He wasted no time as he lifted her legs and placed them over his shoulders, moving to the apex of her thighs, taking a brief moment to revel in the patch of hair he enjoyed so much before licking a long stripe over her folds. He repeated the action several times before he circled her throbbing clit, a soft groan leaving him at the taste of her. Her eyelids fluttered, but she willed herself not to close them as she peered down to fully grasp the gravity of what he was doing. The guy who once declared “I don’t get on my fucking knees for anyone” was now in that exact position, something she never thought she’d ever get to witness. She moaned wantonly as her fingers slipped between his silky locks, gripping firmly to keep him in place, anchoring both of them to that moment.
“Taste so fucking good,” he muttered against her mound, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs. “Can’t get enough of you, baby.”
Y/N shifted closer to him, not wanting any space to exist between them as she continued to hold onto his head. She gasped as she felt his tongue tease her wet canal, delving deeper into her as another groan from him vibrated against her and sent a shiver through her whole body.
“Oh, fuck, Ben, that’s… god, that’s so fucking good,” she moaned, loudly. One of her hands slid up her own body, squeezing at her breast as the other stayed in his hair, her hips leisurely grinding against his face.
It was all too perfect. The soft lighting in her own home casting a golden glow over them, his hands roughly clinging to her thighs, just as she pinched her nipple into a hard bud, her other hand so tight in his luscious locks she feared ripping out even one precious strand. All of the words he had said to her before doing something she thought was impossible. As his tongue continued to move from her clit, through her slick folds and down to her entrance, just before her mind became foggy from the pleasure she was receiving, she had a realization about him.
She didn’t need him to drop the big L-word. She knew very well that sometimes that word caused more problems than solving them, and she was far more interested in other qualities from him. Trust. Loyalty. Passion. While he had played fast and loose with trust the last time they were together, she believed him when he said he regretted his actions that day. So no, she didn’t need some big love confession, with hearts and glitter, because she had something far better than that. She had finally brought this man - America’s Greatest Supe - to his knees as he devoured her like a man starved, practically worshipping at the altar between her legs.
That was the only kind of declaration she needed.
A whine suddenly slipped past her lips as he pulled back from her, her hand reluctantly falling free from his hair. Their eyes locked again as he smirked at her little protest, his mouth glistening with her arousal. He kissed her thigh, just as one of his hands slid over her skin and down between her spread legs, moving between her folds. She threw her head back when two of his fingers slid inside her, slowly thrusting in and out of her tight heat. His lips closed over her swollen nub again, his tongue circling around it at the same pace, eliciting another whine from her, only more desperate this time. His ministrations quickly gained momentum, the pads of his fingers pressing into her sweet spot with precision which caused her to squeeze harder at both of her hardened nipples.
“Fuck, r-right there,” she whimpered, gazing down at him through hooded eyelids.
Y/N could feel the familiar pinch in her core, the pressure slowly building inside her as he went on. She felt her inner walls clench around his digits, the wet squelch of her arousal lewdly making it known how close she was. She felt the coil tightening, a moan escaping her at the steady climb to her inevitable peak, but she didn’t account for him having other ideas as his fingers sped up. His mouth pulled back, being replaced by his other hand as his fingers harshly rubbed at her bundle of nerves, as he continued to work the others faster.
She saw the way his jaw clenched, brows set in determination as he kept his face close between her open thighs, and she knew. She knew what the goal was, what he wanted from her and he was going to get it at any cost. A sensation she had only felt the last time he had done this to her began to bloom, adding to the already growing euphoria within her.
“Want you to make a fuckin’ mess, sugar,” he muttered, peering up at her. His fingers worked so hard and fast, that you could barely see them as he continued to push her to the edge. “Want you soaking my fingers and my face.”
“Ben, oh god, you’re-you’re gonna make me… again,” she mewled, shaking her head frantically. “I-I don’t think I can…”
A hard smack landed against her inner thigh, causing her to jolt as she squeaked in surprise.
He groaned softly, biting at her soft skin. “Oh yes, you can, doll. I wanna see my favorite little party trick again.”
Her head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as her hands slipped away from her breast and gripped the edge of the table. A string of expletives and moans fell from her lips as his fingers continued their delectable torture, and before she even realized it her vision turned white behind her closed lids, her voice bouncing off the walls of her home as she screamed his name. She felt a steady stream of liquid flow out of her, vaguely recalling a delighted chuckle escape him as she felt his tongue lapping at everything she had to give. She breathed heavily as she slowly opened her eyes, glancing down to see him swipe his hand down his dripping beard.
“That’s never gonna get old,” he remarked, as he stood and scooped her up into his arms.
Her eyes had barely begun to focus but she could see her juices running down the thick veins of his neck, before he pressed his lips to hers, roughly. She moaned at the taste of herself on him, fingers scraping against the fabric of his suit. She hastily tugged at the material, a frustrated growl leaving her as she reached for the tactical vest to remove that first.
“Get this fucking thing off,” she muttered against his plump mouth.
He captured her wrists in a tight grip, pulling them away. “We’ll get to that. Right now, I wanna fuck that dripping pussy of yours.”
Y/N gasped as he suddenly pulled her off the table and flipped her around, pushing the front of her body down on the surface. Her breasts pressed into the cool wood, her hands splayed out on either side as he kicked her legs apart. She bit her lip in anticipation as she heard him unzip, a wanton moan falling from her as she felt him slap the large head of his cock against her dripping folds. He roughly tugged her robe off with a frustrated grunt, throwing it somewhere in the room and leaving her completely exposed to his clothed form. Without another second to spare, she squeaked as her eyes widened when he slammed into her, her walls sheathing him completely as they stretched around his girth. It had been weeks since she had felt him, and while that wasn’t long in hindsight, she had been craving that delicious sting that she had only ever experienced with his impressive size.
“Fucking Christ, this fucking filthy little snatch,” he grunted, feeling her around him, briefly pulling out before his hips swung back, pressing harder into her. “So tight, every goddamn time. No matter how many times this cock fucks you open it just snaps right back, huh, doll?”
She barely responded, a weak “yeah” being pushed out of her along with shortened bursts of air as he skipped over warming her up. His pace was already brutal, his hips smacking wetly against the curve of her ass, her juices still clinging to her skin from making her squirt. His thrusts were deep, already reaching that sweet spot inside her that only he had ever managed to, the continuous careen of his hips hard and fast. Her fingernails dragged along the hard wood of the table, a shrieking moan spreading condensation of her breath along the surface, but she couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at her lips. Flashes of their first time together, the night of the shareholders party, came to her. They had been briefly positioned much in the same way, her bent over the table as he ruthlessly pounded into her, before the legs of the table gave out from under it and he pulled her away. She didn’t hope for the same outcome, but just like he never took pause then as he kept going, she didn’t want him to stop now either.
“Ben, oh fuck, you… you feel so good,” she whimpered, reaching one hand back to latch onto his forearm and anchor herself to him. “You fuck me so good.”
He smirked as one hand slid up her back, fingers splaying into her hair and gripping it tight. “You’re fucking right I do. No one else ever fucked you like this, did they?”
“N-No, no one,” she stammered, trying to peer back at him.
Using her strands as leverage, he pulled her up off the table and leaned forward, his chest meeting her back, his lips close to her ear. He bit at her lobe, sucking it softly as his hot breath fanned against her cheek, sounds of pleasure like a constant waterfall from her lips. She was close to the edge again, her walls clenching around him as he continued to pound into her, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room. The hand at her hip lifted up, coming down hard over the curve of her ass, making her body jerk at the impact as she moaned loudly.
“And no one’s gonna fuck you like this ever again,” he growled into her ear, his voice low but the deep rumble in his chest vibrated against her back. “No one but me, right?”
“Y-Yes,” she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut. “Oh, fuck, I-I’m so close!”
His eyes stayed focused on her side profile as his hand struck her again, harder than before. A pleased hum left him when she mewled, taking in the way her features morphed with pleasure. “I can feel it, doll. Feel you squeezing around me, gonna make you squirt all over my cock…”
Her hands were flat against the surface of the table, but her fingers tried to curl in and give her some support as she held herself up. He pushed her back down, her nipples dragging along the shiny surface with each thrust, his hands back on the globes of her ass. He pounded into her over and over, feeling how hard her walls were gripping around him. He smirked, spreading her cheeks apart and eying the way the puckered hole squeezed around nothing, tempting him. His gaze flicked up to the back of her head as he sucked his thumb, bringing it down and slowly pushing it past the tight ring. The air was knocked out of her as she cried out, and that was all she needed. He slammed into her once, twice before she instantly let go, screaming his name as she felt her wetness cover him and flow down around his hard cock. He pulled out of her before she could fully come down, whimpering softly at the slow trickle of liquid down her thigh. A disappointed whine left her as she felt empty again. It was a feeling she now truly hated, wanting nothing more than to have him buried deep inside of her yet again and as soon as possible.
As she tried to catch her breath, she glanced back with blurry vision to see him strip himself of all his gear, his suit and his boots. She turned slowly, biting her lip as their eyes met, suddenly feeling bashful in front of him. He stepped closer to her, his rough fingers lightly pinching her chin when her gaze dropped briefly, bringing her face up to stare deeply into her eyes. Seconds dragged on as neither one of them made a move, her mind working overtime to try and figure out what he was thinking. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing to hers in an unexpected, intimate way, catching her off guard. She suddenly wondered what he might do next, completely taken aback by this small display of affection.
His hands slid down her arms, rough against her soft skin, lifting them up and draping them around his neck. Quickly, whatever unrecognizable feeling was in his eyes was replaced by that snark and playfulness she had come to enjoy, a grin pulling wide over his perfect teeth. He pulled her close and hoisted her up effortlessly, making her giggle as her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. He crossed the room in hurried strides, reaching the couch and pulling a cushion into place as he laid her down. She shifted back against it, making herself comfortable, pressing her lips together as she took in the full sight of it. The amber lighting of the room shined across his skin, bathing him in a golden light as it bounced off the hard lines of muscle. She felt her walls clench around nothing in anticipation of having him again.
“Got any of the good stuff lying around?” he asked, hovering over her as he pecked her lips.
She turned her head and tipped her chin towards the coffee table, his eyes following her gesture to the small black box kept on top of it. He reached over and opened it, smirking as saw a few different selections, but immediately grasping the small baggie of white powder between his fingers. He looked down at her as he opened it, shifting on the couch so he was closer to her. She frowned as she watched him, but as he tapped a line across her chest she found herself biting her lip. Their eyes met briefly as he leaned down, that shit-eating grin plastered across his features before he dragged his nose across, taking the line in one quick inhale. She moaned softly, unable to tear eyes away from him.
“Fuck, it’s even better off you, doll,” he smirked, making another line down her breast.
He repeated the action with the opposite nostril, ending it with a lick over her nipple which caused her to squeal at the tickling sensation, pushing him lightly as she giggled.
“Your turn,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he held the coke out to her.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position, taking it from him as her eyes dropped down to his cock. He was so hard, the tip a deep pink as it leaked precum and made her mouth fill with saliva at the mere sight. She moved forward, tapping out a line of the substance over the thick vein that ran along the length of his shaft, looking up at him through her lashes before she snorted the whole line. He groaned as he watched her, throwing his head back as she sucked at the head, swirling her tongue around it. She pulled back to take another quick bump off his length, smiling devilishly as she took him into her mouth again. She bobbed her head back and forth, licking around the tip every time she came up, moaning around him.
“This fucking mouth is gonna be the death of me,” he husked, jaw clenching as he gazed down at her. “Almost as much as that diamond pussy of yours…”
His right hand slipped into her hair, fingers gripping the strands tight and tugging hard, pulling her back from his cock. She gasped, peering up at him as a small chuckle bubbled up from her throat. The thumb of his other hand pushed her chin down, opening her mouth as he bent over, gathering saliva in his mouth and spitting it onto her waiting tongue. She moaned wantonly as she felt it, her head automatically being jerked back down to take his cock between her lips again. He grunted with each thrust into her throat, the sound matching the soft glugging noise coming from her, her own saliva collecting at the sides of her mouth. He gathered her hair into a ponytail before he pulled her head back, a harsh gasp leaving as her lungs burned, air filling them once again.
“Fuck me,” she breathed, her voice wavering desperately. “Ben, I-I n-need you to fuck me again.”
He chuckled maliciously, his fingers sliding across her face before they cupped under her jaw, squeezing her cheeks together. “Can’t get enough of this dick, huh?”
“No,” she managed to get out between squished lips.
Ben pushed Y/N’s shoulder, making her drop back on the couch, her head landing on the cushion again. He shifted closer to her as he took hold of his cock, smacking the head against her folds before sliding the length over them. She moaned softly, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was doing as she stared down the line of her body.
“Look at me, Y/N,” he stated, one side of his lips pulling up when she did. “Tell me how fucking bad you want this cock inside your pussy again. Beg me for it.”
A distressed hum left her as she clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles. “Ben, please, I need it. I need it so bad, give it to me…”
He spread her legs further apart, continuing his torturous actions as he teased her wet heat with his shaft. “You gotta do better than that if you want me to give it to you again, doll.”
“Just fuck me, you son of a bitch,” she growled in frustration.
He drew back, his eyes darkened as a devilish smirk appeared on his face. His hand replaced his cock over her folds, coming down to strike her hard over her swollen nub. She screamed at the sting, but her eyes fluttered closed as it gave way to a blissful sensation. Her arms fell back over the arm rest, head tucked into the crook as her lips pressed into her skin. He struck her again, a shrieking moan escaping her as she bit down on the flesh of her bicep, chest heaving with deep breaths.
“You know you gotta ask nice, Y/N,” he ordered, leaning over her with his arms caging her in.
She breathed heavily as she turned her head, eyes reflecting the frenzy of everything she wanted. “Please, please Ben, fuck me. Fuck me hard, wanna feel that big dick stretching me open, filling me up. Please.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he muttered, staring down into her eyes. His cock throbbed with every word she spoke, lining up to her entrance as he settled between her thighs. “This the cock you want, sugar? No one else’s, huh?”
She shook her head, meeting his piercing gaze. “No one’s… just-oh god!”
Her eyes widened as he slammed into her in one full thrust. Her words and her breath were cut short by the stretch, one of her hands leaving the arm rest to wrap around his neck, fingers combing into his locks. He groaned, feeling her walls instantly clench around him again, completely accustomed to him by now and making him feel a sense of pride. He leaned in further, lips brushing against hers as he remained still with her.
“Just what, huh?” he asked, his voice deep and husky as their gazes were locked on each other.
“Just want… just want your big cock fucking my filthy little snatch,” she begged, wantonly.
“Oh, fuck,” he chuckled, partly in amusement but also at the fact those words coming from her aroused him in a way he never thought possible. He nipped at her bottom lip, wiggling his eyebrows lewdly. “Guess I rubbed off on ya, huh?”
She couldn’t stop the urge to roll her eyes. “You’re so fucking gross.”
He slowly began to shift against her, his cock drawing back before moving in, teasing her once more. “Really? If I’m so fucking gross then maybe I put a stop to this…”
“Don’t you fucking stop,” she snapped, fingers practically ripping his hair as they gripped the strands hard.
He guffawed, the sound turning into a deep growl as she tugged at his locks. The brief interlude to tease her had been enough of the slowness, his hips not missing the beat as he thrusted into her harder, a loud moan falling from her lips. Her breath was caught in her throat as the glide of his cock within her was instantly too much, the pace hard and fast, exactly the way they both preferred it to be. Her walls stretched completely around his girth, a light sting that added to the pleasure of it all, as he slammed into her and pressed right up against her cervix. She threw her head back, mouth hung open as she cried out, practically feeling him in her stomach. The sound reached her ears as it bounced off the walls, as it did the wet slap of his pelvis against her thighs, adding to the cacophony of their rapturous fucking. It was a sensation that no one had been able to give her, not in her entire lifetime of performing the euphoric act. No one but Ben.
And he certainly didn’t expect to feel the same way. His head tipped back briefly, relishing the feel of her walls gripped around him like a vice, the veins in his neck straining against the skin. All the women, from countless backgrounds over the decades… they really had nothing on her. He looked back down at her, watching her eyes flutter as she struggled to keep them open, and he knew with the utmost confidence that it wasn’t an exaggeration. He knew she could hold her own against him, could give it back to him if needed, so if she was willing to put up with an asshole like him…
She really was something fucking special.
Christ on a Cross, I’m fucking in love with her.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, cupping her cheek.
She closed her eyes briefly, an incredulous giggle leaving her. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re fucking me right now.”
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and firmly jerked it up to make her look up at him. His gaze was unwavering, his jaw tight as he continued to pound into her in hard thrusts, despite the softness in his eyes.
“Far from the only time you’re beautiful, doll…”
With that, he picked up the pace into the most overwhelming rhythm. Short, deep, fast thrusts that she could barely form coherent thoughts around, her hand on the arm of the chair fisting the fabric. Her other hand slid down his muscular back, her fingertips glowing with embers and searing the skin, making a sharp grunt fall from his mouth as it all healed as quickly as it burned. They continued to look into each other’s eyes, both of their pupils dilated from the drug working through their systems, amplifying their need. Her whole body quaked from the sheer force of his thrusts, her breast swaying, their skin rippling as their bodies clapped against each other. The sounds that came from them and echoed around the room were downright animalistic, a feralness to the act that she hadn’t experienced before.
They were completely ravenous for each other, and she never wanted it to end.
“Oh, fuck! Ben, yes!” she screamed, back arching as her toes curled from everything he was making her feel. “R-Right there, don’t stop… don’t fucking stop, p-please!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sugar,” he muttered, the words fanning over her lips. “Already know you’re gonna cum so fucking hard for me. Want your little party trick soaking this couch, want it gushing everywhere, you got it?”
Before she could say anything, he closed the gap between them and kissed her, hungrily. It was all teeth and sucking, swollen and bruised lips refusing to separate more than an inch. Her hand moved from his back and gripped his pert ass, tight. The hand that clenched the arm rest held on for dear life, using the leverage to meet his thrusts. Her core tightened, the tingling sensation burning hot at that point, feeling it just beneath the surface along with the pressure of his cock pummeling harder into her. She reluctantly ripped her mouth away from his, gasping for breath as she stared up at him, her third orgasm of the evening building up faster than she was ready for.
“You’re fucking close, aren’t ya, baby?” he smirked, his hand skimming down the length of her body. “Fucking shit, I wanna see you lose it, Y/N. Let me see you lose it on this dick…”
“Ben, oh my god!” she shrieked, throwing her head back.
His fingers found her throbbing clit, circling it with sure fingers. Her hand left the arm rest behind her, slapping over the back of his neck as a continuous line of screams left her. His pelvis smacked against her repeatedly, relentlessly, sweat beading on their skin as the inevitable happened, her eyes rolling back as he fucked her open so raw in tandem with his deft fingers.
“There she is,” he observed, his voice a velvety husk as it trembled with his thrusts. “That’s it, doll, go dumb on it… go dumb on my fucking cock.”
Y/N felt herself slipping fast, vaguely comprehending his fingers working faster on her swollen nub. She could no longer process anything, far too overwhelmed by everything she was feeling. That familiar pressure was at the precipice now, and with another swipe of his fingers along with a deep slam of his shaft into her, her vision blurred as she screamed. She wasn’t sure if she heard his words, a muffled “cum for me” making it past the barrier, but her body naturally reacted to his command. The release came in an overpowering wave, so strong that his cock slipped out of her, her juices flowing out of her in a steady rush. It all slipped over the couch, some of it on him as he marvelled at the sight.
“Fuck,” he chuckled, amazed as he smoothed a hand down her thigh. “I swear I’m gonna keep you over hydrated just to do this every fucking day.”
She breathed heavily, her breasts heaving as she came down from her high, a small smile pulling at her lips as she registered what he said. God help her, she might die from it but what a way to go. She let out a small whine as he pressed his cock into her overstimulated pussy, filling her up once more. He resumed the same pace as before, her limp body immediately reacting as she gripped onto his shoulders. His gaze locked on hers, the smirk never leaving his face as he continued to slam into her, hoping to get another release out of her as he also chased his own.
“You gonna give me another, Y/N?” he asked, his voice raspy.
She shook her head, tears brimming at her waterline. “I-I can’t-”
“What did I say about that word, huh?” he warned, clicking his tongue. “Come on, doll, give me one more and I’ll give you this big load you’re so desperate for, come on…”
His hips shifted against hers in long, hard drags as he grunted, the power it took slowly depleting. The rhythm faltered as he felt his cock pulsing inside her, her walls contracting around him again, ready to fall over the edge with him. His fingers moved down to the bundle of nerves, working them over in fast circles, causing a sobbing moan to escape her as she felt the dam burst once more. A few tears rolled down her cheeks, but the tired smile that split her lips told him she was more than okay, as he leaned in and licked the salty substance off her jaw.
“Oh, fuck… fucking shit, doll, you’re-you’re gonna make me-”
Ben threw his head back, his neck straining and a strangled grunt pushing up from his throat as he felt his cock throb. He groaned as he felt all his muscles relax, ropes of seed spilling out of him and coating her walls. She moaned softly as she felt him filling up, biting her lip when she realized he wasn’t lying about a big load; more spurts of his cum rolling deeper into her continuously. Once he gave her everything he had to give, his spent cock pulled out of her, but he made no effort to move off her.
In fact, her legs wrapped tighter around his hips and kept him in place, her arms around his neck as she pulled him close. His large hand came up and brushed her soaked strands away from her forehead, both of them surprised to have worked up such a sweat. It didn’t happen often being a supe, but something about it made her feel giddy inside.
“You’re… you’re never fucking teasing me like that again,” she stated through harsh breaths.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes. “Interesting that you think you can tell me what to do.”
“Well, maybe you should see what it feels like,” she challenged, lifting an eyebrow.
“Oh, you wouldn’t get the fucking chance, sugar,” he husked against her lips, nipping the bottom one. “I’ll make you a weeping mess in no time and you fucking know it.”
She grabbed onto either side of his face and brought him down, kissing him roughly as her thighs squeezed around him. She never wanted to let go.
“I guess I better give you a breather, but let me tell ya now, doll,” he said, smirking down at her. “You better be ready for me to fuck you all night long.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she whispered, a small giggle leaving her as he pinched her side.
He grinned. “You fucking love it…”
Yeah, she thought as she stared up into his stunning green eyes, ready to only admit it to herself at that moment, I really do.
It was the early hours of the morning, well past midnight. Y/N wasn’t sure, but it was possibly closer to 3AM if she was keeping track of the time. Which she most definitely wasn’t.
How could she when Ben had made good on his promise of fucking her all night. At some point they had moved from the couch to the floor, with more room for both of them. The coffee table had been pushed to the side, cushions and blankets covering the luxurious rug that provided comfort from the hardwood floors. The fireplace was on, the crackling low and soothing as the reflection of the fire danced across their undulating bodies.
She was on her side facing the fire, his chest pressed up against her back as he held her legs open, one thigh in his tight grip as his hips rolled against her from behind. Her arm was wrapped back around him, fingers tugging at his locks as he kissed along her neck. His other hand snaked under her body, coming up to curl over her throat, adding a firm pressure that had her moaning loudly. The hand on her thigh slipped down further, moving past the thatch of curls and finding her clit. His fingers rubbed hard circles over it, working in unison with the way his cock was splitting her open.
“Ben,” she whimpered, turning her head to look back at him, pulling on his hair. “Fuck me harder, please… I-I need it.”
He leaned in, kissing her breathlessly, hot breath fanning over lips as he pulled away. “I know what you need, doll. Don’t gotta tell me twice…”
The rhythm of his thrusts changed from long, hard rolls to short, hard and fast slaps of his pelvis against her ass. His fingers circled faster too, wanting her to reach that blissful peak quickly. Maybe it was the position, maybe it was the way his hand at her throat, at her clit and his cock all worked in tandem, but it wasn’t much longer before she felt herself falling over the edge. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shout of name on her lips as her wetness covered his shaft. Her orgasm prompted his, slamming into her a few more times before he let out a low growl, spilling deep inside her. He had no idea how many times he had by then, but he fulfilled her request of keeping her full of him.
He pulled out of her slowly, a hiss leaving her at the soreness between her thighs, but it was far from a complaint. He turned onto his back, glancing at her as she did the same. As they came down from their high, they breathed heavily as he settled back against the pillows and pulled the blanket over them. She softly rested her head on his chest, her fingers lightly running over his skin, making odd shapes as he pulled her closer into his side. He shifted up slightly and reached over to the coffee table, picking up the pack of her regular cigarettes. He brought the pack to his mouth, his lips closing over the filter of one and slipping it out of the pack. Without any prompting, she moved her hand up and clicked her fingers, the small flame between them burning the end of the cigarette. He took a long drag, blowing out the smoke in small rings between his pursed lips, making her laugh lightly. She poked each of them as they disappeared, accepting the cigarette from him.
“So, Colombia, huh?” she asked, taking a pull before passing it back to him.
“Yep. As much of this as we want,” he replied, scrubbing the residue of coke off his hand. His eyes glanced down the length of her body as he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long pull. He reached around her, his hand coming down in a hard smack, making her yelp. “And as much of this as I want.”
She turned onto her stomach, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Not sure how I feel about sharing your cock with another woman.”
“Don’t get fucking possessive, doll. You know your pussy’s the only one that gets me at a full salute in three seconds flat,” he stated, handing the cigarette back to her with a smirk.
“Guess I can make an exception if I get to partake too,” she reasoned, taking a drag before resting the cigarette on the ashtray.
He clicked his tongue, placing an arm behind his head as he looked at her. “Sorry, sugar. Afraid I can’t allow that.”
“Double standards, much?” she scoffed, but she was far from offended. It was just another layer to their banter.
“Those are the terms, baby. We already established that little cooch ain’t taking any dick but mine,” he said, stroking his hand up and down her arm.
She bit her lip as she slowly leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a whisper. “Who said anything about dick?”
“Fuck,” he husked, his grin widening. “Now that I’d like to see.”
She punched his shoulder, letting out a shriek as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her on top of him. She cackled as he leaned in, sucking a wet kiss onto her neck, nipping at the same spot. She couldn’t stop as he continued, purposely running his jaw along her skin, his beard scratching and tickling her.
“Ben! Oh my god, stop!” she laughed, trying to push him away.
He grinned when she finally succeeded, punching him lightly again before she sat up, throwing the blanket off. She stood up carefully, her legs weak from all their rigorous activity and made her way out of the living room.
He frowned, leaning up on his elbows as he watched her naked form retreat. “Hey, get that gorgeous ass back in here!”
“Hold on!”
His brows furrowed as he heard her rummaging around in her cabinets, wrappers crackling, glasses clinking. He sat up properly, leaning his elbows on his bent knees, glancing around her living area. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise at the large flat screen and some of the other things his vintage tastes couldn’t really figure out, until his sight landed on something he could definitely get on board with. He stood up, walking over to the record player in the corner, sitting on top of angled shelves housing all of Y/N’s records. As he heard her still looking for things in her cabinets, he crouched down to flip through them, trying to find something that might feel familiar.
“Fucking jackpot,” he muttered, pulling out a Sinatra record and looking at the back of it. He smirked as he straightened up, opening the top of the player and sliding the vinyl out. He placed it on the deck, lifting the needle into it and waited for the soft croon. “Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ about…”
Y/N walked out of the kitchen, her arms full with two packets of potato chips, Oreos, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses precariously squeezed between her fingers. She blinked a few times in surprise as she heard the familiar opening notes of “It Had To Be You” by Frank Sinatra, slowly sauntering into the living room to see Ben settle back on the floor, sitting back against the couch this time. She didn’t even remember she had this record, but as she stepped closer to him, she felt her heart beating faster as saw his eyes closed with a small smile pulling at his lips.
“Isn’t this a little cheesy for you?” she asked, unable to resist teasing him.
He clicked his tongue as he looked up at her, shaking his head. “Not cheesy. Classic.”
She settled down next to him, placing everything in her hands down between them. She picked up the bottle of whiskey, pouring a generous amount into each tumbler, before picking them both up. She watched as he took the cigarette from the ashtray and brought it to his lips, taking another puff, handing over one glass to him. They clinked their glasses together, each taking a sip. He took the glass in his left hand that had the cigarette pinched between his fingers, his right arm free to wrap around her. She leaned into him, neither saying a word as they listened to old Frank serenade them.
“Did you know him?” she asked, curious about a past that only he knew was familiar with.
He nodded, snorting a small laugh. “The guy really knew how to throw a party.”
“Wow,” she whispered, taking a sip of her drink as they fell quiet again.
As the song continued, she felt at ease, almost like she had slipped into a dream. Just when she was about to chastise herself for the ridiculous notion, his large hand curled over hers, lacing their fingers together. Her eyes widened as she glanced down at their joined hands briefly, looking back at him to see him gazing back at her. She shifted closer to him, leaning her forehead against his. She closed her eyes, relishing the rare display of affection from him, his nose nuzzling against hers as his thumb lightly stroked over her knuckles.
Ben tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss, the kind that held more truth than words ever could. The kind that solidified something without having to say it out loud. Slowly, she pulled away but kept her gaze on him, her lips pressing together as her eyes darkened. She felt a wetness trickle down her thigh, causing her to bite her lip. She almost didn’t want to say anything and ruin this rare moment, but if anything, she knew he’d appreciate it even more. He looked at her with furrowed brows, unsure of the sudden change.
“You’re dripping out of me,” she rasped, pressing her thighs together.
His expression morphed as he grinned at her, one of his hands sliding down her torso and between her thighs, making her open them again. He groaned, feeling his cum between her folds. He brought his fingers up for her to see, the creamy white substance leaving her salivating.
“Fuck me, doll,” he husked, watching it run down his digits. “Open up…”
Without further instruction, she dropped her jaw and stuck her tongue out, allowing him to push his fingers in, her mouth closing around them. She softly sucked their shared juices off his skin, his eyes transfixed as he saw how greedily she took the offering. He pulled them back with wet pop, seeing them completely licked clean. Their eyes locked as she gulped hard, smiling mischievously as she swallowed it down.
“Show me,” his rough voice ordered.
She opened her mouth, showing him that it was empty.
He smirked. “Good girl.”
She hummed, loving the warm feeling his praise gave her. She leaned into him, her hand stroking up and down his chest. “So, this is how you’re gonna spend an eternity?”
“Can’t think of a better way,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “And you’re gonna spend it the same way, if I got anything to do with it.”
She sighed. “Ben, There’s no more V1.”
“If there was one dose, there’s gotta be another,” he stated, firmly as he looked directly into her eyes. “Worth a shot, right?”
“Right,” she nodded, even if she wasn’t sure that it was possible.
He cupped her cheek in his solid grip, bringing her in to fuse their lips together, the embrace slow but passionate. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, her breasts pressing into his chest as she moved closer to him. They had created a little bubble for themselves in this post-Homelander world, and neither one of them was ready to leave it any time soon. They’d wait a few days for things to blow over with Vought, before silently taking their leave and heading to Bogota. If anyone had told her decades ago that she would end up here, in the arms of Soldier Boy, she would’ve laughed in their face. Hell, she probably would’ve done that even just a few weeks ago despite them reuniting again. As the kiss deepened, their mouths moving rougher against each other, she could barely believe that this man was talking about spending eternity with her.
But she did believe it. Just as something had changed in her, something had changed in him. They may never say it aloud to each other, and that was okay. She felt it. That was more than enough.
“That’s it.” He abruptly stopped the kiss, placing their glasses on the table and stubbing out the cigarette. He grabbed her by her hips roughly, turning her around. “I’m cuttin’ this sap fest short. You’re due for a refill...”
She laughed at his choice of words as he playfully tackled her to the floor, causing her to let out a squeal. She pulled him down on top of her as she laid back on the cushions, the kiss resuming once more as she wrapped her legs around him, ready to take whatever he was about to give her.
If a lifetime is what they had to spend together, then at least there would never be a dull moment.