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“Rebecca.”
He’s surprised to see her, standing outside his front door, just past midnight.
After their big win earlier tonight, the entire club went out to celebrate at the local pub, sharing drinks and greasy food, good company, and music.
And he enjoyed himself.
However, there was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that made it difficult to smile, hard to pay attention, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Now, he can think of the reason why.
“Hi,” she says softly.
Her stance tells him she’s nervous. She can’t seem to keep still, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right every other second.
“I looked for you for nearly half an hour before realizing you weren’t at the pub anymore.”
Ted scratches the back of his neck, huffing out a small laugh. “Yeah. Henry texted, askin’ if he could call to tell me about some science project he’s got comin’ up. The level of noise at Mae’s made keeping a conversation goin’ damn near impossible.”
“I see.”
His eyes travel to her occupied hands. “What’s that?” He gestures toward the amber bottle and shot glass she’s holding.
Her gaze follows his and she raises it to show him the label. “Bourbon.”
Dimly, he notices how the skin of her arms is prickled with gooseflesh, probably due to her standing outside in Richmond, in late August, wearing a sleeveless blouse.
Ever so stunning, but sleeveless, nonetheless.
“Want to come in?” he asks quietly, immediately stepping aside to grant her space.
Her eyes light up as she nods eagerly, and her feet lift over the threshold. When she passes him, a whiff of her perfume fills his nose and clouds his mind.
He leans back against the front door after it falls shut, and he can’t help but drink up the sight of her in the dim hallway light.
So different, yet so familiar. She appears softer here than at the office or at the pub, somehow.
Even though she’s still wearing the same clothes as earlier. A pair of black slacks, a pale pink blouse that dips at the valley of her breasts, paired with heels that make her a couple of inches taller than him.
Her make-up seems to have smudged a little after spending the evening in a crowded pub, and her hair has lost some of its volume. Warmth pools in his stomach and spreads through every limb.
She’s just so... lovely.
His appreciative eyes finally reach her bemused ones, and he knows he’s been caught staring.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “Was there a reason behind your search for me?”
She frowns, her smile faltering a little. “Pardon?”
“You said you were lookin’ for me,” he repeats, “at the pub?”
“Oh,” she says, blinking. Her cheeks flush and her tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “Yes, I suppose I was.”
He smiles gently at her, silently reassuring her that whatever she has in mind, he’s alright with.
Because he trusts her.
The effect is instantaneous, the nervousness in Rebecca’s expression carefully melts into something deeper, something resembling fondness.
The corners of her lips are upturned, her brows raised, and her eyes a little wider.
“Any particular reason?”
“You know,” she says, taking a step towards him, ignoring his question. She brings the bottle up to her lips, her teeth lock around the wooden cork, and she pulls. The cork loosens and lets go with an audible pop, and clatters to the floor when she speaks again. “A win like tonight’s needs to be celebrated.”
Ted chuckles under his breath and he pushes off the door frame to get closer to her.
“The thought’s crossed my mind once or twice.” He observes with agile eyes as she shakily pours a shot, filled to the brim. “But I thought that’s what we were doing at the pub a few hours ago? Unless I missed somethin’, that is.”
She holds it out to him with a grin, tilting her head like a curious puppy.
Immediately, he reaches for it. “Thank y—," the words die in his throat when she changes her mind, her hand detouring before she brings the glass up to her lips.
But instead of opening her mouth, Rebecca tips the glass, causing the amber liquid to spill down her chin and chest.
His molars crush together and his nostrils flare as the light colour of her blouse becomes increasingly darker, making her black bra visible through the, now, very sheer fabric.
Looking at him through heavy eyelashes, she breathes, “Oops.”
Ted merely watches her for ten seconds too long before tearing his eyes away from her jaw and chest with blazing cheeks, feeling his heart hammering like a woodpecker behind his ribs.
“Rebecca,” Ted says in warning, but there’s no real heat behind it. Not when it comes out of his mouth like a prayer.
"I'll pour you another one."
Her pink lips quirk and she begins to fill another glass, but then—
“No,” Ted says firmly, and she stops immediately, and looks at him with startled eyes. He reaches for both the bottle and the glass, taking them out of her grip and setting them aside on the nearest surface.
“I’ll take that one,” he says and gestures to the liquid trickling down her chest. “Come here,” Rebecca smiles wryly when Ted’s hand grasps her own and tugs her closer.
Suddenly, his palms are on either side of her face, tenderly cupping her cheeks as he draws her even closer and kisses her.
He’s kissing Rebecca Welton.
It takes her brain a solid three seconds to come up to speed, but when it does, her fingers cover the expanse of his neck, slightly tugging at his hair. The other hand rests on his waist, gripping the fabric of his sweater.
She leans into him, hard, and his arm slides down, around her waist to draw her in and ensure that she doesn’t suddenly disappear.
Her answering whimper is swallowed up by his moan as her tongue swipes over his bottom lip.
It’s Rebecca who ultimately breaks the kiss. She pulls back, just a little, and he takes the opportunity to lean his forehead against her, breathing heavily.
“That’s one hell of a celebration,” he says eventually, and she chuckles softly in return.
“Well, you can say that again.”
She loosens her hold on him, taking a few steps back.
Ted frowns at the sudden loss, but then her fingers trace the buttons of her blouse, and she slowly unfastens the top one. He can’t - won’t - tear his eyes away.
“But I was under the impression that you wanted that drink,” she teases him, and, oh boy, is it working. Ted’s head is swimming.
The second button.
The swells of her breasts protrude over the neckline of her blouse, her skin still sticky with alcohol. Her chest rises quicker than normal, the colour of her alabaster skin, now, a flushed pink.
“I do.”
The newly revealed skin is glistening with liquid and Ted can’t stop himself from falling forward to lick a broad stripe up her chest.
A startled moan escapes her, and she gasps, “Ted.”
Her fingers are suddenly buried in his hair once more, her nails scraping over his scalp with just the right amount of pressure to send pleasure shooting down his spine.
“Just wanted to let you know, I have a new favorite drink, no matter how unpractical it is,” he tells her, and revels in her breathy giggle.
Suddenly hit with a bout of desperate impatience, he grips her blouse in his fists and pulls a little too roughly, in hindsight.
The sound of buttons scattering across the floor fills the room, but Ted doesn't care - just bunches it up completely and throws it haphazardly behind them, not caring where it lands.
Rebecca gapes at him before gently pushing him away from her. “That was Armani,” she tells him with a pout.
He shrugs, a mischievous look taking over his eyes as he maneuvers her backward, toward the living room. “It’s still Armani, even when it’s on the floor.”
She sneaks a glance behind her, cursing quietly when she realizes he’s headed in the direction of the sofa.
Ted smiles with satisfaction. Not as unaffected as she seems.
“You’re stunning, Rebecca,” he tells her in a whisper, and his grin widens when a flush paints her cheeks, and she ducks her head to hide her smile.
“As are you, Ted.” And the raw tenderness in her voice is enough to send him surging forward, nearly tackling her to the couch, mindful of her head, cushioning it with his hand.
He swallows her bemused chuckle, holding himself above her, slotting his smiling lips over hers.
Instantly, she whimpers into his mouth, breathing heavily through her nose, greedy hands clutching at his back and caressing his shoulder blades.
Tearing himself away from her lips is damn near painful, but he’s instantly soothed by the sweetness of her skin mixed with the burning aftertaste of alcohol still coating her.
“You’re delicious,” he says into her neck, his curious hands finding their way beneath her, kneading into the flesh of her ass.
The throaty moan Rebecca lets out when he shifts, roughly grabs her hips, and flips her over so her front is suddenly pinned down to the sofa, will play on a loop inside his brain forever.
“W-what are you doing, Ted?” Her fingers twist in the fabric of the sofa and she buries half her face into the cushioning, panting heavily.
Putting his body flush with hers, pressing his front into her back, he plants open-mouth kisses to the back of her neck, one hand balancing him on the sofa, the other fisting her hair.
“Kissin’ you.”
“God—” She inhales sharply when his fingers remove the strap of her bra, his warm tongue gently licking the indent it leaves behind on her skin.
Then, his hand slithers down, underneath her, finding her breast, then pulling the cup down to touch her bare skin.
“Fucking Christ.”
Her mind goes deliciously blank the second his fingers pinch her nipple into a stiff peak, causing her breath to break on a whimper.
“So beautiful, Rebecca,” he pants, gently biting the shell of her ear, before kissing away the sting.
She can feel his desire pressed against her ass, and she reaches a hand back, blindly threading her fingers through his hair.
Her hips lift with obvious demand that he tries his best to ignore, not satisfied with kissing her yet. Ted brings his lips from her neck, connecting with hers once again.
“Why does it feel so good when you do that?” she asks breathily between soft pecks, seemingly genuinely perplexed.
She lets go of him and drops her upper body back down on the sofa, her moans muffled by the pillows her face disappears into.
Ted frowns and slides his finger underneath the tight band of her bra, listening to her soft exhale.
“When I do what?”
She turns her head so he can hear her better. “Kiss me.”
He presses a kiss to the side of her ribs. The curve of her waist. The dimples on her lower back. “Kisses usually feel good.”
She whines petulantly, her body canting in search of the weight of him. “Not this good.”
“Must be some sort of telepathy thing,” he says with a shrug he knows she can’t see, and she answers with an eye-roll she knows he can’t see. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
Her entire body twists back around with startling strength, nearly sending Ted tumbling to the floor.
Lying down on her back, she looks up at him with pure disbelief. “How the fuck did you know that?”
Ted laughs, a sincere sound that also pulls a smile from her.
“I know you.” He sits back and rearranges them, so both her legs are on each side of his thighs. His big hands grip the soft flesh of her thigh, smirking when she gasps at the sudden pressure. “And I know how much you detest my folksy charm.”
She smiles into her shoulder, a steady blush creeping up her neck. “I rather like your folksy charm. I’m quite convinced I wouldn’t be on my back, half-naked for you if you were to come from, say…Seattle.”
He chuckles. “Thank God for Kansas, then. Don’t know how I would’ve survived without the privilege and pleasure of seein’ you like this.”
Coming from anybody else, she might have laughed at the pure cheesiness of it all. But coming from Ted, it settles in her chest and spreads through her body like sticky sweet molasses.
She hums, and her eyes flutter close.
She can feel his thumbs rubbing soft circles on her thighs, his fingers quivering with effort to stretch across as much of her as they possibly can. She can feel his hips barely moving, jostling her legs a little bit. She can feel his eyes roam over her. She can feel him loving her.
“Ted,” she says, and he hums. “Are you staring at my tits?”
“Of course I’m starin’ at your tits, honey.”
She grins at the amusement barely contained in his voice, her eyes still shut.
“You know,” she begins softly, “I was hoping we could do more than staring. I just…” She lifts her head, wills her eyes open and they immediately meet his. And she’s met with a world of dark desires within that familiar warmth. “I think I forgot about the way you look at me. Just for a second.”
Ted wraps a hand around her upper arm and pulls her gently into a seated position. “And how do I look at you, sweetheart?” he whispers and reaches for her to tenderly tuck her bangs behind her ear.
“Like…” she falters, immediately regretting bringing it up.
Why does she always have to open her stupid mouth and ruin everything good that’s ever come her way? They are just about to have idiotically hot sex, and now she feels a familiar burn in the back of her throat and her eyes sting.
His expression is nearly pained at the visible conflict moving across hers.
“I’m not sure if what I feel for you shows on my face, but just in case it doesn’t,” he says, fingers sliding under her chin, tilting her head up slightly. “I sure hope I look at you like you’re everything. Because you are.”
She hurtles forward and kisses him.
It feels like being consumed. Ted surrounds her – the clean, fresh scent of him, the strength and heat of him, and the weight of his hand pressing into the small of her back in stark contrast to the delicacy of his palm on her cheek.
He cradles her face tenderly and tips her head back to nibble at her lower lip, and when she moans, he kisses her firmer, harder, more desperate, and sucks at the tip of her tongue.
Rebecca has never had anyone suck her tongue before, but she quickly decides from now on it’s a requirement. And seeing as she can’t imagine kissing anyone but Ted, the thought strikes her as perfectly fine.
Ted presses their bodies together tightly, so tight it almost seems as if he wants to push his way inside her. And then she feels the curve of his want pressing into her hip and she remembers he does want to be inside her.
She should make that happen as soon as possible. Right now, actually.
“Fuck me,” she breathes against his lips and pushes him onto his back before climbing on top of him.
His hands immediately cover her hips, to keep her steady, all the while preventing her from kneeing him in the family jewels.
“Foreplay,” he counters, laughing at her huff of impatience. But his breaths are shaky and quick.
Rebecca’s fingers slide from his waist, up his arm, before finally settling on his chest, feeling it move with each rough breath. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to touch you right here.”
“Before I opened my mouth, you mean.”
“Yes,” she says, smiling at the way his cheek dimples. “And now you’ve opened your mouth many, many, many, ma—”
He snorts. “Are you goin’ somewhere with this, missy?”
“Many times,” she tells him firmly. Leaning down, she traces the shell of his ear with her lips. “And now I want to touch you even more.”
Gently, he wraps his hand around her throat and pulls her closer. Then he ducks his head and grazes his teeth over the bare tender curve where her neck meets her shoulder. A shiver zips between Rebecca’s tits and spirals through her entire body.
She throws her head back with a loud moan, and Ted kisses the place he barely bit, warm, wet, and depraved.
“I love the sounds you make,” Ted tells her softly. “From now on I want to be the only person who gets to listen. Every time. Can I?”
His palm glides down from her throat to her breast. He traces a finger along the cup of her bra, before moving across her ribs and behind her back. He hesitates for a second or two, but at her nod, he unclasps it and tosses it away in one decisive move.
Rebecca’s breath catches, coalescing into a gasp that doesn’t leave her chest at the first swipe of his thumb across her pebbled skin.
All she can hear is the thudding of her pulse, all she can feel is Ted’s touch on her nipples and his hardening want rubbing against her.
“Say yes, Rebecca,” he murmurs and pinches her in a shameless way that is only slightly reminiscent of Ted, undeniably greedy, almost as if he could spend the rest of his life doing this.
“Y-yes,” she barely manages, the word shudders out of her as she arches into his touch. “Yes.”
“Now, tell me I’m yours,” he orders, the hand on her back pushing her up his body, forcing her to put her hands on the sofa on either side of his head to keep her balance.
Quickly, he mouths at her chest, taking one of her nipples into her mouth and sucking hard.
“Oh.” Heat coils in the pit of her stomach and she clenches around nothing. “Shit.”
His hands leave her body, but only for a few seconds, before gripping her ass firmly, guiding her hips into the rhythm of a slow grind.
He’s going to kill her.
Then, she remembers what he told her. “You’re mine,” she agrees easily, lifting off her shaky hands and beginning to unbutton his shirt. “And you’re incredibly sexy, Ted Lasso. Did you know that?”
Ted smiles a little, a cautious curve of his lips that makes her heart flutter. “I do try. Since I know how hot and bothered it gets you.”
“Oh, so now you’re suddenly aware of the effect you have on me?” She can’t help but smile, even as heat travels through her veins and her vagina threatens to burst due to the constant throbbing.
“Yes, I’m aware, “ he says cockily, reaching behind her to wrestle with the zipper of her slacks. “You’re magnificently obvious. Sometimes you just look at me and I can see you thinking about jumpin’ my bones and screwin’ my brains out. Your—” The zipper gives with a metallic whisper that sounds like a thunderclap, and he shoots her a wolfish grin. “Your eyes give you away, honey. They always do.”
He taps her ass lightly, coaxing her to rise so she’s on her knees, back ramrod straight, high above him. And when her slacks slide over her hips, all humour flees his expression.
Nothing remains but overwhelming longing and desire.
Swinging her legs over his waist, she brings herself to her feet, standing on the floor beside the sofa where Ted’s still on his back. She shimmies her trousers down her legs, and they pool around her ankles. In one movement she slips off her heels and steps out of the clothes.
Pressing her thighs together, she trails one finger up his leg, her nail leaving a white mark as it slides higher, higher, until he gently grasps her wrist.
Her tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “And now?”
“Now, what?” he asks breathlessly as he pulls her back on top of him, sighing in relief as she drapes her near-bare body over his.
“What do my eyes say?” His brown eyes lock on hers, and they soften in an instant. He lifts his hand to palm her cheek, and she leans into it, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist.
“That you love me,” he answers with unrestrained certainty. And he couldn’t be more right. It doesn’t surprise her at all that the words don’t frighten her.
Quite the contrary - they make her strong.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” she singsongs, biting down on her bottom lip as his body shakes with chuckles. It quickly dies down in his throat and turns into a groan when he notices her hand firmly grasping his belt buckle and impatiently tearing it open. “Get these off,” she huffs out, glaring at his trousers as if they’ve personally offended her.
“Right,” he mumbles, lifting his hips so she can drag them down his legs, both of them laughing when he starts kicking to speed up the process.
Momentarily, he sits up to shrug off his shirt, and she grabs it out of his hands, shoves it into a ball, and tosses it as far as she possibly can.
“Hey now, what did my shirt ever do to you?”
“I don’t like it.” She pushes at his chest, raking her fingers through the coarse hair she finds there.
“What?” he says, surprised. “I thought you said you liked it the other day—”
“It’s not that I don’t like the shirt or how it looks on you,” she gently interrupts him, grinning like the cat who got the canary when she reaches between their bodies and cups him over his boxers, making him gasp loudly. “What I don’t like is that it covers your beautiful body.”
She watches in delight as his face flushes bright pink. “I don’t know about that.”
“Do you want me to show you? I could take you in my mouth right n—"
Biting back a moan, Ted crudely lifts his hips to press against where Rebecca wants him the most, making her gasp and her hands fly up to grip his shoulders.
In retribution, she tauntingly rocks her pelvis down at the same time, and the desired effect unfolds instantly.
In a flash, Ted sits up and turns to plant both feet firmly on the floor, holding her steady. One hand disappears into her hair, and the other, placed on her back, pushes her further into his lap before it slithers down her front, cupping her roughly, fingers rubbing relentless circles.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants as the fist in her hair tightens and pulls to tilt her head back, his lips immediately latching on to the sensitive skin there.
His stubble brushes against her, and she can feel the bristles of his moustache leaving marks, like little constellations.
She's going to have to wear turtlenecks for days.
Scooting back a little, she manages to slip her hand between them, the back of hers bumping into his.
Her hand maps out the shape of him through his underwear, sliding up and down, and if she keeps this up, he’s going to make an embarrassing mess of himself in record time.
“Slow down, honey.”
Rebecca cocks her head innocently, curious. “Any particular reason?”
“Yeah. I’m this close to bendin’ you over this couch, and your clear enthusiasm isn’t really helpin’.” Because she’s just so – in love with him. So obviously in love with him. Her pupils blown as if she’s high, her lips red and swollen from kissing him, rubbing her body against his.
And Jesus, fuck – what a body.
“Maybe you should bend me over. Right now.”
Groaning, Ted slides his fingers up and down her cloth-covered slit, making her breath stutter in her throat.
“I’m not just… shoving inside you, Rebecca. No, don’t whine at me. Foreplay,” he insists once again.
His body is in clear opposition to his brain because he’s pressing her down as his hips jerk up, seduced by the sweet pressure she provides.
“At least let me take these off,” she mumbles, tugging at the elastic of his boxers. Looking at him with those beautiful eyes and that wicked smirk, and oh, fuck—
“Yeah,” he says, “Fine, fine.”
And then they’re both fumbling with the last pieces of clothing separating them, Rebecca way ahead of him, but twice as desperate, and before they knew it, she’s sitting naked in his lap.
The desire painting her features as her naked flesh slides across his is enough to make him pant loudly.
“You’re so, so beautiful.”
Rebecca raises a hand to cradle his face and presses her forehead against his, her thumb tracing the outline of his lips. She smiles.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“You,” she replies honestly before pressing her lips to his, swallowing the surprised sound that escapes him. Her tongue swipes across his lips, carefully probing into his mouth and he grants her access.
He tilts his head slightly to get a better seal on her lips and she squeaks excitedly when he grabs her, nearly manhandles her, by her ass to pull her closer.
She gasps into his mouth and grips his shoulders in a vice as his cock slides through her soaking-wet folds, making her hips swoop down to chase the feeling.
“Ted,” she mumbles against his lips.
“Hm?” His hands on her hips making sure she keeps sliding up and down, over his length. She tears away from his mouth and buries her face in his neck, her moans getting louder and louder as her movements get more frantic and struck by involuntary shudders.
“You’re going to make me—”
In her pleasurable haze, she doesn’t notice the hand that slips between them, not until his thumb grazes her clit before rubbing in quick, tight circles and her breathing cuts off, before she whines, “Fuck, Ted. Fuck, shit.”
In a last-ditch attempt to smother her moans, she bites down on the supple flesh of Ted’s shoulder, causing him to slip his free hand into her hair and fist the blonde locks in his grip at the sudden pressure.
“That’s it, Rebecca,” he coos, carefully winding her down with soft touches and tender praises. Her chest heaves with each sharp, Rebecca-scented breath. “You’re doing so well.”
Ted looks down between them, flushing at the sight of himself. He knew how hard he is – he can feel it in his skull and inside his bones – but seeing the evidence is completely different.
Suddenly, her shaky but determined fingers disrupt the sight in the best way possible.
She runs her pointer finger along him, delicately, tracing him like he’s a map.
“Can I have this now,” she asks, voice raspy and breathless, “or do I have to seduce you some more?”
He inhales sharply at her words, chuckling a bit at her boldness. “Lie back down,” he says, “and let me taste you first.”
“No,” she answers and takes his cock in her hand, pumping him lazily. He grunts, head falling back as his stomach contracts.
“Rebecca—”
“After,” she amends, grinning as she brings her thumb to his tip, swirling it there. “Fuck me hard, and then you can kiss it better.”
“Jumpin’ Jesus—”
Leaning forward, she takes his earlobe between her lips, tugging on it with her teeth. His hands fly to her sides and grip her tightly.
“I honestly didn’t think you’d need this much convincing,” she whispers as she spreads herself with the length of him. Her thighs cradle his hips, and all he can really do is lean back against the sofa and take it.
Or rather, let her take him.
She rolls her hips, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Scalding, silky torture, gliding over his sensitive skin. “Fuck, Rebecca.”
“I’d be happy to,” she says and begins to lift on her knees to get a better angle.
But there’s something they haven’t discussed yet.
“Wait,” he says, and his eyes soften as she stills completely, gaze lifting to meet his immediately.
“Are you okay? Did I —”
“I’m fine, honey,” he tells her, because he is. “We just didn’t discuss any type of protection…” he trails off, watching as realization dawns upon her.
She sighs. “I haven’t had sex in months,” she whispers quietly, like it’s a secret. His thumbs rub soothing circles into the skin of her hip, hoping it brings her some comfort. “I’m clean and on the pill, but if it’s making you uncomfortable—”
“Uncomfortable?” he says, aghast. He’s instantly rewarded when she lets out a relieved chuckle. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable before. And I have a memory foam mattress that cost more than the downpayment on my old house—”
“Ted.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me?”
“Yup, definitely,” he says, nodding eagerly. “I’m clean, too, by the way, so I’ll get right on that.”
Her hand lines him up with her slit, spreading her open once more. Her thighs are shaking with exertion on either side of his hips, and his hand grips her tighter to alleviate some of the weight she’s holding.
He has her. He has her, and honestly, he’ll do whatever she pleases because she has him, too.
Ted is just about to snap his pelvis up to tease her when she grabs a fistful of his hair, hard, hard enough that slivery pleasure sings down his spine and straight to his crotch.
Then, she presses her mouth to his, panting loudly and harshly.
“Rebecca,” he breathes, but the sound is lost in the slow sweep of her tongue. “Rebecca. Do it,” he says softly, and she moves to kiss his throat, to rake her sharp nails down his chest, and then she sinks down on him.
“Jesus, Rebecca.”
“Ted,” she whimpers, her breath rushing out of her and her lashes flutter like startled butterflies.
He watches intently as she takes him, inch by inch, slowly and carefully. And feels her surrounding him, easing him into that hot, wet grip until breathing becomes a struggle.
His thighs flex with the effort of holding himself still, trying to control himself. His body nearly demands him to move, to thrust into her, to fuck her. But not yet.
Rebecca’s breath hitches, and he winds a fistful of her hair around his hand and pulls her even closer. Until every breath between them is practically a kiss. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she nods, rolling her hips to take him deeper.
He releases her hair, runs a hand down her body, thumbing at her clit. Her answering keen is high and decadent, so he does it again. Firm, relentless circles and he feels her tighten around him.
“You get what I mean?” he asks softly. “Foreplay.”
“Much better when you’re already inside me,” she rasps, her forehead falling forward and gently bumping against his.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” His fingers glide against her until he finds the place where they’re joined. He traces the soft, needy flesh and she whimpers, sinking down on him completely.
Their moans twine together, like a symphony. Ted kisses her hungrily, clumsily, and she’s barely able to respond.
“Fuck,” she breathes between the hot, rushed meetings of their lips. “Oh, bloody Christ, Ted. You should— ah – have bent me over. Why are we doing this on a sofa?”
His laugh is tight and shaky. “Later, honey. We’ll ruin the bed later.”
He grits his teeth and fucks her harder, up into her, reveling in the feel of her skin, her softness, the sounds of her sharp little screams.
“Becca,” he groans, burying his face in her throat, feeling it vibrate with her moans and heavy breathing. “God.”
“Tell me,” she pants, rocking desperately against him, her nails digging into his shoulders and back. He should have known this gorgeous woman gets off on praise.
The thought makes him grin into her skin.
“So fuckin’ good, baby,” he babbles, barely managing to choke the words out. His brain doesn’t seem capable of producing anything logical, but it seems unnecessary at the moment. “Fuck, Rebecca, you’re so good. What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need.”
“Yes,” she whimpers and his head ducks down to take one of her nipples into her mouth. “Harder. More,” she demands, but more and harder of what, he has no idea.
Ted’s not entirely sure how he manages, perhaps some sex-induced superpower – but he lifts her off his lap and tosses her down on the sofa without breaking their connection. Leaning forward until he’s above her and her legs are wrapped tightly around his waist.
“Bloody hell,” she pants, looking a little more than shell-shocked. Ted has to bite down on his lip to hide his proud smirk. Her incredulous look morphs into a pleasurable frown when Ted starts to thrust into her at an unforgiving pace.
Gripping the armrest above her head, he holds on tight. The room is dim, but he’s still able to make out the tortured bliss on her face, so he doesn’t give a damn that he can’t see much else.
The noises she makes can only be described as incoherent, perfect, or both, and then she holds on to him and sobs, “Ted.”
Her body arches in an invitation, her legs spread wider, and he feels the first tight, tense flutterings of her impending orgasm.
“Do you like that?” he asks, just for the satisfaction of hearing her gasp.
And gasp, she does. “Yes.”
Ted thrusts harder, deeper, and she meets him every time, until they are writhing together in a mess of whimpers, grunts, and moans.
Sweat and sighs.
Until her breathy sounds of pleasure become sharp, keening screams, and her pliant body becomes rigid under his.
There’s barely a second of silence before she shatters, her hands twisting in his hair and her body shuddering.
He watches her come down from her high, and the ache in his chest at the sight of her has him moaning as he comes hard.
His head is spinning, dizzying circles that cruelly mock him. But he can feel Rebecca panting beneath him, can hear her breathless laugh, can see – when he opens his eyes – her smile, brighter than any star in the sky.
God, he loves her.
And Ted has to tell her, or else he’s sure he’ll combust.
So, he does.
And in her smile, Ted finds something even more beautiful than the sun.