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Entangled Hearts

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Notes:

WARNING: SMUT! SO MUCH SMUT! Please skip this chapter if that's not your thing 😘 And if it is your thing, buckle up. This is a LONG chapter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The steady rhythm of rain taps against the windows, filling the house with a soothing, almost hypnotic sound. The day is gray and wet, perfect for staying indoors. Lucy is stretched out comfortably on the couch, her head resting on a pillow, one leg draped over the armrest. The other leg is propped up in Tim’s lap, and she can’t help but smile as his strong hands work their magic, massaging her foot with the perfect amount of pressure.

She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, the warmth of the drink spreading through her, mingling with the comfort of his touch. The rich, velvety taste of the cocoa is a delight on such a rainy day, and she sighs in contentment, feeling utterly relaxed. Tim’s eyes are focused on the TV, where he has tonight’s football game playing at a low volume. His concentration on the screen doesn’t detract from the care he’s giving her, though; his hands knead gently, easing away the tension she didn’t even realize she’d been carrying.

“Feels good,” she murmurs, her voice soft, almost dreamy. She doesn’t really expect a response; she knows Tim is engrossed in the game, but that’s fine by her. She is content just to be here, soaking in the warmth and comfort of the moment, watching him as he watches the game.

Tim’s gaze flickers briefly to her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good,” he replies, his voice low and steady. He gives her foot a gentle squeeze, the affection clear in his touch, before returning his attention to the screen.

She watches him as he watches the tv, taking in the way his brow furrows slightly when the play gets intense, the way his jaw tenses and relaxes with the ebb and flow of the game. She knows how much he loves football, how it’s one of those rare things that allows him to relax, to truly enjoy. And she loves seeing him like this—calm, at ease, enjoying something so simple.

As the game progresses, Tim’s hands continue to move over her foot and ankle, his touch light but firm, almost absentminded as he divides his focus between her and the TV. It’s a soothing gesture, one that makes Lucy feel even more at home. She lets out a soft sigh, sinking further into the couch, her body fully relaxed. The rain continues to fall, a constant backdrop to the quiet intimacy they share.

When the game hits halftime, he finally tears his gaze from the screen, turning his full attention to her. “Need a refill?” he asks, nodding toward her near-empty mug of hot chocolate.

She shakes her head, her smile soft. “No, I’m good. Just enjoying the view.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “The view, huh?”

“Yep,” she says as she nudges him with her foot. “I happen to think it’s a pretty good one.”

He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes her heart skip a beat. “Glad to hear it.” He squeezes her ankle lightly, his thumb brushing over her skin in a way that makes her toes curl. “You’re pretty good company yourself.”

For a moment, they just look at each other, the game forgotten, the rain outside creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort around them. There’s something special about these quiet moments, where they don’t have to talk or fill the silence with anything other than their presence. The bond they share hums with the steady beat of their emotions—affection, contentment, and a deep, abiding love that doesn’t need words to be said.

“Maybe later we can order in,” she suggests, breaking the comfortable silence. “Pizza, or whatever you’re in the mood for.”

“Pizza sounds good,” he agrees, his tone light. “And maybe after the game, we can watch something you like.”

She smiles then, feeling a rush of warmth from him through their bond. “Deal.”

They settle back into their previous positions, Tim’s hands returning to their gentle massage, her eyes drifting between the TV and the man beside her. The second half of the game starts, but once again she finds herself paying more attention to him then the screen.

“Tim?”

“Hmm?” His response is automatic, his eyes still glued to the screen.

She lets the silence hang for a moment, waiting until he realizes she actually asked him a question that deems a response. She can feel his curiosity flicker through their bond, a subtle shift in his focus as he finally looks over at her.

“What’s up?” he asks, his hand pausing its massage as he meets her gaze.

She takes a slow sip of her drink, drawing out the moment. “I was just thinking…” she begins, her voice teasing. “What did you think about me when we first met?”

He blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. He looks at her, then back at the TV, and she can tell he’s trying to refocus on the game, but her question lingers, pulling his focus. His brow furrows slightly, and she feels a ripple of amusement through their bond.

“That’s not fair,” he says, a soft laugh escaping him as he turns the volume down on the TV. “You can’t just drop a question like that in the middle of a game.”

“Sure, I can,” she replies with a grin, shifting her foot slightly in his lap, nudging him playfully. “Besides, I’m curious.”

Tim gives her a mock stern look, but she can see the fondness in his eyes. “You’re always curious.”

She shrugs, unbothered by the accusation. “And you love that about me.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he admits, his tone softening as he considers her question more seriously.

There’s a pause as his attention fully shifts away from the tv, his focus entirely on her. She can feel him thinking, his emotions swirling in a way that tells her he’s sifting through memories, weighing each one. She loves this about him—the way he considers every question, how much he values what she has to say.

Finally, he looks back at her, his expression thoughtful. “Do you really want to know,” he asks slowly, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against her ankle.

She nods, leaning back into the couch, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Absolutely. Be honest.”

“Okay, but remember—you asked for it.” He shifts his gaze back to her, and she can see the memories flashing in his eyes. “Honestly? I thought you were annoying.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and then she bursts out laughing, the sound filling the room with lightness. She hadn’t expected that, but now that she thinks about it, it makes perfect sense. “Annoying? Really?”

“Really,” he says, though there’s no malice in his tone—just a bit of humor. “You were this bright-eyed rookie who thought she could take on the world. You asked a million questions, challenged everything I said… You were relentless.”

“I was just trying to do my best!”

“I know,” he replies, his smirk widening. “But back then, I didn’t see it that way. I was your TO—I was supposed to be tough, keep you in line. And you were… well, you were a lot.”

Lucy nudges him with her foot again. “So, I drove you crazy?”

“A little.” His eyes soften as they meet hers. “But even then, I knew there was something special about you. As much as you annoyed me, I couldn’t help but respect how determined you were. You weren’t just doing the job—you cared about doing it right. And that mattered.”

Her laughter fades into a smile, her heart swelling at his words. “So, you didn’t just think I was a pain?”

He shakes his head, more serious now. “No, not at all. You were a challenge, sure, but you were also exactly what I needed at the time. You made me rethink how I approached things, made me a better TO. And as much as I hate to admit it, you made the job more… interesting.”

“Interesting, huh? I can live with that.”

“You’ve always kept me on my toes,” he continues, his voice softening. “Even now, you challenge me, make me see things differently. That’s one of the things I love about you—you never let me get too comfortable.”

Lucy feels a shiver run up her spine at his touch, but it quickly turns into something else entirely when his thumb brushes lightly over the bottom of her foot. Her eyes widen in surprise as she realizes what he’s about to do.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns, her tone playful but with an edge of warning.

Tim’s smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What? This?” He lightly tickles the bottom of her foot, causing her to jolt and pull her leg away instinctively, but he tightens his grip, holding her foot firmly in place.

“Tim!” she squeals, half-laughing, half-protesting as she tries to wriggle free. “Stop it!”

“Oh, come on,” he teases, his voice full of amusement. “Where’s that toughness you had as a rookie? Can’t handle a little tickling?”

She thrashes slightly, trying in vain to pull her foot away, but his grip is unrelenting. He continues to tickle her lightly, just enough to drive her crazy but not enough to cause real discomfort. The laughter spills out of her uncontrollably, and she swats at him with her free foot.

“Okay, okay! Truce!” she gasps between giggles, finally managing to wriggle free as he releases her foot with a satisfied grin.

She sits up, catching her breath, her cheeks flushed with laughter. “You’re the worst,” she says, though there’s no heat behind her words—just affection.

He chuckles, leaning back against the couch, his eyes still sparkling with mischief. “You started it.”

“I’m going to get you back for that.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he replies, his tone daring.

She takes a deep breath, composing herself as the last of the laughter fades. Then, with a playful gleam in her eyes, she asks, “Want to know what I thought of you when we first met?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Sure. Hit me with it.”

“Well, I thought you were ridiculously hot,” she admits casually, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and she can feel the ripple of amused satisfaction through their bond. But before he can respond, she holds up a hand, cutting him off.

“Wait, let me finish,” she says, her voice turning more playful. “That lasted maybe ten minutes… until you opened your mouth and ruined it.”

Tim blinks in surprise for a second before shaking his head, a grin breaking out across his face. “I ruined it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she teases. “I went from ‘wow, my TO’s really hot’ to ‘oh great, my TO is a total hard-ass’ in record time. I didn’t even - ”

The words barely leave her mouth before she catches the glint in his eyes. That glint she knows too well—the one that always precedes trouble. It’s both thrilling and terrifying at once, and she has just enough time to recognize the danger before he moves.

His hand snaps out faster than she anticipates, catching her ankle in a firm, deliberate grip. It takes a split second for her brain to catch up with what’s happening, and by then, it’s too late. She knows exactly what’s coming next, but her body doesn’t react fast enough. She’s frozen, watching him with wide eyes, feeling the solid hold of his fingers on her ankle like a trap closing around her.

“Wait—” she starts to protest, but it’s cut off by a surprised yelp as he yanks her toward him, dragging her across the couch with ease.

Her breath hitches, heart racing from the sudden motion. Everything happens so fast, and before she knows it, the cushion beneath her slips away and she’s sliding toward him. The world tilts, and her hands flail uselessly as she’s pulled right into his lap. His chest is warm and solid against her back, and his arm wraps securely around her waist, holding her in place before she can even think about escape.

How does he do that? Always so quick, so sure of himself. It's almost infuriating how easily he pulls her into his little game, like he’s been planning it all along. She wonders if he had been waiting for her to say something like that, just so he could swoop in and take control of the situation. Typical Tim.

Her breath comes out in quick, shallow bursts, not from exertion but from the rush of emotions—the shock, the amusement, and, though she hates to admit it, the thrill of being this close to him, of being completely at his mercy. And maybe that’s the part that gets to her the most. The way she doesn't mind it. How something about Tim being in control, even in these small moments, is something she enjoys more than she expected.

But right now, she can't dwell on that. Not when she knows exactly what he's about to do.

“Tim!” Her voice is sharper this time, though it's laced with laughter she can’t fully suppress. “Don’t even think about it—”

But of course, he’s already thinking about it. His grin only widens, that mischievous glint in his eyes burning brighter as his fingers hover dangerously near her sides. He knows her too well. Knows just how to make her squirm, and not in the way he usually does with his words or that piercing gaze of his. No, this is different. This is pure, unrelenting tickling, and it’s her worst—and best—kind of torture.

“What? This?” His fingers brush lightly against her ribs, and she jumps before she can stop herself, a reflexive jolt that betrays her. It doesn’t matter how hard she tries to hold back, how much she wants to play it cool—her body always reacts first.

“Tim!” Her protest dissolves into laughter as his fingers move with across her sides, finding all the sensitive spots she wishes didn’t exist. He knows them too well, every single one, and the worst part is, she can’t do anything about it.

The tickling isn’t harsh. No, he’s too careful for that. It’s gentle enough to drive her insane, to make her laugh uncontrollably, but not enough to actually hurt. It’s the kind of teasing that leaves her breathless, gasping between giggles, unable to form a coherent sentence.

She squirms in his arms, trying to twist away, but his grip on her waist is steady. He’s always so damn strong, and no matter how much she wriggles, it’s useless. She’s completely trapped, and that knowledge only makes her laugh harder.

“Tim—stop! I can’t—I can’t breathe!” Her voice comes out in breathless gasps, and she’s only half-joking. Her body feels like it’s on fire, a mix of tickling sensations and the warmth of his chest against her back.

But he just laughs, his breath soft against her ear. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Her laughter is breathless now, the kind that leaves her gasping for air, but there’s a warmth blooming in her chest, something soft and unspoken that has nothing to do with the tickling and everything to do with him. The way he knows her, the way he can make her feel so much in such a simple, playful moment.

Finally, mercifully, he stops, his fingers retreating as he releases his grip on her waist. She collapses back against him, her chest heaving as she tries to recover from the onslaught of laughter. Her cheeks are flushed, her body still buzzing from the aftermath of the tickling, but she’s smiling. A wide, unrestrained smile that she doesn’t even try to hide.

“You’re the worst,” she says between breaths, her voice soft but filled with affection.

“You started it.”

Lucy can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest behind her, and she swears her heart skips a beat when she notices the subtle shift in his posture. He’s relaxed, yes, but there’s an undercurrent of tension, something more purposeful lurking beneath his playful exterior.

She’s spent enough time with him to recognize the signs. The way his body stiffens behind her. The way his hand, which had been resting innocently at her waist, now seems to tighten slightly, his thumb brushing the curve of her hip. There’s an unspoken understanding in that touch—one she feels deep in her bones.

“Tim...” Her voice comes out softer than she intends, almost a whisper, and she’s not sure if she’s saying his name to stop him or to invite him closer.

He doesn’t respond right away—not verbally, at least. Instead, his grip on her waist shifts again, and this time she feels the deliberate press of his chest against her back, solid and warm. His head dips lower, his lips brushing the bare skin of her neck, just beneath her ear.

The touch is so light, so gentle, that it almost feels like it never happened. But the effect it has on her is immediate. A shiver runs through her, her breath catching in her throat, and she wonders if he can feel how tense she’s become, how her entire body seems to freeze in response.

What is he doing? No—she knows exactly what he’s doing. The question is, why is he moving so slow?

Another brush of his lips against her neck, this time a little firmer, more deliberate. It’s barely a kiss, but the intent is there, and it sends her pulse racing, a flutter of something almost unbearable unfurling in her chest. She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t even try. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, just enough to give him more access, as if her body has decided for her, abandoning any remaining pretense that she doesn’t want this as much as he does.

She swallows hard, trying to steady herself, but it’s useless. His mouth moves lower, tracing a line from her jaw down the curve of her neck, and she feels like she’s about to come undone. Her mind is spinning, caught between wanting to turn so she can face him and pressing further into his chest, and it’s all too much. She can’t think straight, can’t breathe properly with the way his lips are teasing her skin, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded.

And then, just as she’s adjusting to the sensation of his mouth on her neck, his hand start to move.

Tim’s fingers, still resting at her waist, begin to trace a slow, lazy path along the edge of her sweats. The touch is so light it almost feels like a question, the pads of his fingers brushing just beneath the fabric of her shirt, grazing her skin in a way that makes her stomach tighten.

Her breath catches, her chest rising and falling faster now as the anticipation builds inside her. It’s ridiculous how much his touch affects her, how just the faintest brush of his fingers can make her heart race like this. She can’t control it, doesn’t even want to. The way her body reacts to him feels as natural as breathing, like this is something that’s always been waiting to happen.

His hand lingers at her waist, fingers exploring the boundary where her shirt meets her skin, and Lucy can’t stop herself from leaning into him more, her back pressing against his chest. His other arm tightens slightly around her, pulling her closer, and she can feel the steady beat of his heart against her back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

His hand pauses at her hip, the tips of his fingers dipping just below the fabric. It’s such a small movement, but it sets her nerves alight, her body responding instantly. Her skin tingles where he touches her, a slow burn that spreads across her body, settling low in her stomach, and she knows he can feel it—the way she shudders ever so slightly against him.

He doesn’t rush. Of course he doesn’t. Tim’s never rushed anything with her, and this moment is no different. He’s giving her time to decide, time to pull back if she wants to. But she doesn’t. She’s already made her choice, and she knows he can feel that too.

Her breath catches again as his fingers start to slip lower, beneath the waistband of her sweats. The air between them grows thick with tension, every nerve in her body on high alert, as if her skin is anticipating the next move before her mind can even process it.

God, this feels like too much, but not enough at the same time. How is that even possible?

Her entire body flames when his hand finds it’s way underneath her panties. His hand pauses for a moment, his fingers hovering just below the fabric, and she knows he’s waiting - again.

She tries to find the words, to tell him she’s ready, but they don’t come. Instead, her body answers for her. She shifts slightly, tilting her hips toward him, pressing herself more firmly against his hand.

He feels the shift, the unspoken invitation, and his hand slips lower. The soft pads of his fingers trail across her skin, dipping completely under the fabric of her panties, finding the heat between her thighs. His movements are slow—achingly slow—as if he’s savoring each second, exploring her like he has all the time in the world. His fingers part her folds gently, testing her, tracing the slickness gathering there.

Lucy exhales sharply, her back arching against his chest, and he takes that as permission. His thumb circles her clit, barely brushing it at first, light and teasing. The sensation sends a jolt through her, and her fingers dig into the fabric of the couch, gripping it like it’s the only thing anchoring her in place. He repeats the motion, a little firmer this time, his thumb finding that spot again with an expert touch, dragging out her response in slow, steady waves.

Her head falls back against his shoulder, a low sound escaping her throat as his fingers dip lower, sliding easily into her. He doesn’t move quickly, doesn’t need to. He keeps his rhythm slow, deliberate, curling his fingers inside her just enough to make her gasp, then retreating, dragging it out, keeping her on edge.

It’s almost unbearable, this slow torture, every nerve in her body alive and begging for more. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the way he flicks his thumb over her clit again, circling with just enough pressure to keep her teetering on the edge, but not enough to push her over.

Tim presses deeper, his fingers curling inside her with each thrust, finding that spot that makes her body tense, her breath catching in her throat. His hand moves faster now, fingers sliding in and out with an easy rhythm, slick with her wetness. The sound of it fills the quiet room, the soft, wet noise of his fingers moving against her, and the low, breathy sounds she can’t contain anymore.

Before she can catch her breath, he slides his fingers out, just enough to add a third. She gasps, her legs instinctively spreading wider to accommodate him, her hips tilting up in a silent plea for more. He doesn’t make her wait. His fingers push back into her, stretching her in a way that makes her groan, the fullness sending a wave of heat coursing through her again.

“You feel that?” Tim’s voice is low, rough, barely a whisper, but the weight of it sinks into her, making her stomach tighten. “You’re so tight around my fingers. So wet for me.”

“Tim…” His words send a shiver down her spine, and she arches back against him, her body melting into his touch, her mind dizzy with how fast he’s taking control again. He scissored his fingers, stretching her further, the motion slow and deliberate, making sure she feels every inch of it.

“Fuck, you’re perfect like this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing her neck as his fingers spread wider inside her. “Taking all of me, so greedy for it.”

“More, Tim,” she breathes, her voice shaky, barely holding together. “Please.”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against her ear. “You want more?” His thumb returns to her clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make her legs tremble.

“You’re going to take me so well,” he growls, his voice low, rough with desire. “I can feel how close you are. You’re gonna come all over my hand, aren’t you?”

His words light a fire in her, and she nods, unable to form a coherent response. His fingers move faster, thrusting deep inside her, his thumb working her clit in perfect rhythm. She’s shaking now, her whole body tightening around him, and Tim leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “Come for me, Lucy. Let me feel you.”

His encouragement is all it takes.

Her body gives in. The tension snaps, and she shatters in his arms, her hips bucking against his hand as the orgasm rips through her. It's overwhelming, blinding—her hips jerking uncontrollably against his hand, her legs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through her. She cries out, her fingers digging into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as she unravels completely in his arms.

Her body is on fire, her skin slick with sweat, her mind barely able to process the intensity of what she’s feeling. The pleasure doesn’t stop—it keeps building, keeps crashing through her, her muscles tightening and releasing in a rhythm that’s completely out of her control. Tim’s fingers work her through it, his movements faster now, but still precise, deliberate, pushing her deeper into the pleasure with each thrust.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers low. “I can feel how tight you are around my fingers. I’m gonna keep going until you can’t take anymore.”

She’s already trembling, her body a mess of sensation, but his words—God, his words—only make it worse, make the pleasure spike higher. His fingers are relentless, pumping in and out, stretching her, filling her completely, each thrust dragging her closer to the brink again.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the pressure builds inside her once more, faster this time, sharper. She’s too sensitive, her body raw, every touch sparking something intense and unbearable. And yet, she can’t stop it. She doesn’t want to.

“Tim,” she gasps, her voice shaking. “I—I can’t—”

But he doesn’t stop. His hand keeps moving, his fingers curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit with unrelenting pressure.

“You can,” he murmurs as his lips suck on her neck. “You’re gonna come again. I know you are. I can feel it.”

Lucy can barely hold herself together, her body trembling, her legs shaking as the second orgasm slams into her. Her muscles tighten around his fingers, her entire body convulsing in his arms as another wave of pleasure crashes through her, even stronger than the first. She cries out, her head falling back against his shoulder, her mind blank, lost in the sensation as he keeps working her, his fingers pumping in and out, dragging every last bit of pleasure from her body.

Her body jerks with each touch, her muscles tensing and releasing, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. She’s utterly spent, completely undone, but Tim’s hand keeps her suspended in that blissful haze, her pleasure lingering, ebbing and flowing in slow, steady waves.

He doesn’t pull away immediately. His fingers stay inside her, still moving in slow, lazy strokes, coaxing out the last few tremors from her exhausted body. His other arm wraps tighter around her waist, pulling her closer against him, his chest solid and warm at her back, grounding her in the moment.

“You are so fucking perfect.” His lips brushing her temple, his voice soft now, the rough edge gone.

She’s still catching her breath, her body trembling in the afterglow of her orgasm, when she becomes acutely aware of him—of Tim—pressed against her. His chest is firm at her back, but it’s the hard length of his erection that catches her attention now, pressing insistently into her lower back.

The realization sends a new spark of heat through her, but her mind is spinning for a different reason. She can barely form a thought, but somehow, the words slip out.

“It’s… unnerving how good you are at that,” she whispers, her voice shaky and breathless, her head tilting up so she can look at him.

Tim lets out a low, smug chuckle, his hands still guiding her hips in slow circles, grinding her against him. He leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,”

She can feel the truth through the bond, in the way his hands move on her body, confident and assured, as if he’s finally getting what he’s been craving for so long. There’s something intoxicating about it—about knowing how much he wants her, about feeling it in the way he holds her, the way he pulls her down harder onto his lap.

Lucy bites her lip, another quiet moan escaping her as his hips press up against her again, his erection grinding into her with more intent. She can’t stop the way her body responds, the way her breath hitches in her throat, her legs trembling slightly as he moves her. But there’s something else now, something she hadn’t expected.

Tim's talking to her—his words, low and filthy, laced with desire—and it's driving her wild. Every time he speaks, her body reacts, as if the sound of his voice is just as intoxicating as the way he touches her.

He feels it too. The way she shivers, the soft moans that slip out when his voice drops lower. His hands slow their movement for a moment, and she can almost feel him smirking behind her, piecing it together.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” His voice is soft but teasing, dripping with smugness as he lets the words roll off his tongue. “You like it when I talk to you while I touch you.”

She should be embarrassed, but instead, all she can feel is the sharp thrill of it, of knowing he understands what gets to her, of knowing he’s about to use it against her.

“Tim…” Her voice is barely more than a whisper, shaky, but the way his name slips from her lips tells him everything he needs to know.

He chuckles again, the sound deep and satisfied, and his hands tighten on her hips, pulling her down harder against him. “You don’t have to hide it. You want me to keep talking to you, don’t you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear, his teeth grazing lightly. “Tell me that you like it, Lucy.”

She swallows hard, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she nods, barely able to form the words. “Yes… I like it,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need.

She barely has time to process the intensity of his words before his hands are shifting, sliding from her hips to her thighs. His grip is firm, steady, and in one swift motion, he lifts her from his lap, effortlessly rotating her body and pulling her up as he stands. She gasps, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs curling around his waist as he holds her close against him.

“I’m taking you to bed,” he says, his words thick with desire, each one sending a fresh wave of heat through her. “We’ll order pizza later… right now, we’ve got something much more important to do.”

They reach the bedroom, and Tim pauses for a moment, his lips brushing against her ear again. “Once I’ve got you in my bed, I’m not letting you go until I’m finished with you.”

Lucy shivers at the promise in his voice, her breath hitching as he pushes the door open with his shoulder. The bedroom is dimly lit, the bed looming large in the center of the room, and he wastes no time, striding toward it with purpose. He lowers her onto the bed gently, but there’s a simmering intensity in his eyes, the way he looks down at her like she’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

Tim’s hands are back on her hips, his touch firm and confident as he presses her down into the mattress, his body hovering just above hers. Lucy can feel the heat radiating from him, his presence overwhelming as his gaze locks onto hers, filled with a dark intensity that sends a fresh wave of anticipation coursing through her. Every part of her is alive under his attention, her breath quickening as he leans down, his lips brushing her ear. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

His fingers find the hem of her shirt, and he lifts the fabric, dragging it up her body inch by inch, the soft material brushing over her skin in a way that makes her shiver. His lips follow the path of his hands, kissing her stomach, then higher, until the shirt is bunched just below her chest.

She lifts her arms, helping him pull it over her head, and in one fluid motion, he tosses it aside, his hands immediately returning to her body. His fingers trace the line of her waist, his touch featherlight, but there’s a hunger in the way he moves, like he’s savoring every moment, every second that he gets to undress her.

His hands then find the clasp of her bra, and with a quick flick, it comes undone, the straps sliding down her shoulders as he pulls it away. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as his eyes rake over her, taking in the sight of her bare skin, exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire, his gaze darkening as he leans down, his lips brushing over the curve of her breast.Her back arches off the bed, a soft moan escaping her lips as his tongue flicks over the sensitive skin. The sensation is electric, sending a wave of heat straight through her, and her hands instinctively reach for him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

Tim groans softly, his hands still working, slowly dragging her pants and panties down her legs, his mouth never leaving her breast. His tongue circles her nipple again, slow and teasing, before he pulls it between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug that sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through her.

She has to lift her hips off the bed as he pulls the fabric free from her legs, tossing the remainder of her clothes aside without a second thought.

Now, she’s completely bare beneath him, her body trembling, every nerve alight with anticipation. But Tim doesn’t rush. He switches to her other breast, his mouth closing around her nipple again, sucking harder this time, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as his hand slides up her thigh, teasingly slow.

“God, Tim,” she gasps, her voice barely more than a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair as he sucks harder on her nipple, his teeth grazing her just enough to make her moan. “Seriously, you’re so good at this.”

He lets out a low, satisfied growl, his hand sliding higher up her thigh, his fingers inching closer to where she needs him most. His mouth leaves her breast for just a moment, his breath hot against her skin. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

His lips linger on her skin for just a moment longer, his mouth trailing down the curve of her breast, leaving a faint, heated mark in its wake. Then, with a slow exhale, he pulls away, his hand sliding from between her legs as he shifts, his body lifting off the bed. It’s like her entire body is buzzing with the intensity of what he’s done to her already—and the promise of what’s coming next.

She props herself up on her elbows, her eyes locked on him, and the way he looks at her sends is evil. Tim is taking his time, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving hers as he stands at the foot of the bed, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. He pauses for just a moment, letting the tension between them stretch, then pulls the fabric up and over his head in one smooth motion.

The shirt falls to the floor, and she immediately takes him in—his broad chest, the firm muscles flexing beneath his skin, the way his body is perfectly built for this moment. His eyes darken as he watches her watch him, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He knows the effect he’s having on her, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

Her eyes trail lower, down his chest to his stomach, and then to the waistband of his jeans, where his hands have moved next. The sound of his zipper is almost deafening in the quiet room, the anticipation thick in the air as he undoes the button and tugs the zipper down, the metal teeth parting slowly.

She doesn’t realize she’s biting her lip - hard - until he gives her a look that’s all heat, his eyes flicking to her mouth, and that smirk deepens. He lets the jeans fall to the floor, stepping out of them with an almost casual grace, his movements controlled, confident.

Her heart practically stops the moment his cock springs free, thick and hard, bouncing slightly against his stomach as the last barrier between them falls away. It’s all she can focus on now—the sheer size of him, the way he stands fully exposed in front of her, completely unashamed, every inch of him radiating heat and desire.

His cock is everything she imagined and more—thick and heavy, the tip flushed dark with arousal, a bead of precum glistening there. That’s going to make her sore tomorrow. She can’t tear her eyes away, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her body reacts instinctively, her legs pressing together at the sudden ache between her thighs.

Tim smirks, his hand giving his cock a slow, deliberate stroke as he watches her, his thumb brushing over the tip with a quiet hiss of breath.

“Like what you see?”

Lucy swallows hard, her body trembling with the intensity of her need, barely able to find her voice. “Yes…” she breathes, her voice barely more than a whisper, her gaze flicking back up to meet his. “God, yes.”

Her words only seem to embolden him, his smirk widening as he climbs back onto the bed, his cock heavy and thick between his legs as he moves.

He shifts slightly, leaning back on his legs as one hand slides back down to grip the base of his cock, pumping it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “How do you want to take me, Lucy?”

Her mind is spinning with the possibilities, but when she looks into his eyes, there’s only one answer she can give. “I want to see you,” she breathes. “I want to watch you.”

Tim’s lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile, a deep, approving rumble emanating from his chest as he leans in closer, his cock brushing against her thigh now, slick with precum. “Good choice.”

His hand tightens on her thigh, and he pushes gently, his eyes never leaving hers as he nods toward the head of the bed. “Scoot up,” he instructs, his voice firm but filled with that same teasing edge, the authority in his tone achingly familiar. “Brace yourself on the headboard, I need you ready for me.”

Jesus christ. This man is going to be the death of her.

All she can do is nod, her movements slow as she scoots up the bed, her back resting against the wood, her fingers curling into the sheets as she settles into position. Her legs part instinctively, her body arching slightly, offering herself up to him as she braces herself, her eyes locked on his.

He strokes his cock again, his hand moving with more urgency now as he positions himself between her legs, the head of his erection brushing against her entrance, teasing her, making her body arch toward him, craving more.

Tim pauses just as the head of his cock slips inside her, her breath catching at the intense heat and tightness that follows. For a moment, she closes her eyes, savoring the sensation, but then, with a controlled exhale, he is suddenly pulling back slightly, the movement almost hesitant. His hand leaves her hip, reaching over to the nightstand beside the bed instead, his fingers brushing the drawer handle as he pulls it open.

She knows what he’s reaching for, hears the familiar sound of plastic rustling, and it’s confirmed when he pulls out a small foil packet, his intentions clear.

But just as he’s about to tear it open, she reaches out, her hand wrapping around his wrist, stopping him mid-motion. “Wait,” she breathes, her voice soft but steady, her eyes locking onto his. There’s something in her tone that makes him pause, his gaze flicking to hers, a question in his eyes.

“We can use a condom if you want to,” she says, her voice low, filled with a mix of nerves and sincerity. “But I’m on birth control, so it’s not really necessary.”

His expression shifts slightly, the intensity in his gaze softening as he studies her, his hand still holding the foil packet, but he doesn’t tear it open. Instead, he seems to be weighing her words, his focus entirely on her as he waits for her to continue.

Lucy swallows hard, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. “I’ve never had sex without a condom before,” she admits, her voice a little shaky, but there’s a vulnerability in her words that’s impossible to miss. “But… I trust you, Tim. I want to feel all of you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just holds her gaze, the condom still in his hand. Then, slowly, he places it back in the drawer, closing it with a soft click. His hand returns to her hip, his touch firmer now, more possessive, as he leans in, his forehead resting against hers.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, but there’s an edge of concern in his tone, a need to know that she’s certain about this. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do this.”

“I’m sure, Tim. I want this… I want you.”

His eyes darken further, the intensity of his gaze making her pulse race. He kisses her then, slow and deep, pouring all the unspoken emotions into it, letting her feel just how much this means to him.

She moans softly into his mouth, her body arching up into his, her hands sliding up his back, clutching at him, pulling him closer. The sound only seems to spur him on, because Tim’s lips part, his teeth gently catching her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth with a deliberate motion that makes her head spin.

His tongue slides over her lip, soothing the spot where he just nipped her, before slipping into her mouth, warm and slick. Lucy’s response is immediate, her own tongue meeting his in a slow, sensuous dance, each movement deliberate, teasing. The kiss is deep, their tongues sliding together, exploring, tasting, the intimacy of it making her body hum with pleasure.

His hand leaves her cheek, sliding down her body with a slow, deliberate motion. His fingers brush over her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before slipping between them, his palm pressing against her stomach as his fingers find their way lower. He doesn’t break the kiss, even as his hand moves lower.

Tim’s fingers find her slickness, the evidence of her arousal coating his fingers as he touches her, his thumb brushing over her clit in a slow, teasing circle.

She gasps into his mouth, her body jerking at the sudden burst of pleasure, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, his tongue plunging into her mouth, hand still working between her legs, collecting her juices.

When he finally pulls back, just enough to catch his breath, Lucy is left panting, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss, her body trembling with need. But Tim isn’t done. He lifts his hand, his fingers glistening, and she watches, breathless, as he reaches down, his eyes never leaving hers, and coats his cock with the moisture he collected.

As he settles himself between her legs, the reality of what’s about to happen washes over her with overwhelming intensity. Her mouth goes dry, her breath catching in her throat as she feels the weight of him pressing against her, the heat of his body so close, so ready. Her legs part wider, welcoming him, and the anticipation coils tightly in her belly.

His hand slides up her thigh, gripping her hip firmly as he positions himself at her entrance, the head of his cock brushing against her slick folds. He pauses, his own breath coming in quick, long exhales.

“Are you ready?” he asks, the question laced with both concern and desire. His eyes search hers, waiting for her response, making sure she’s as sure as he is about what’s coming next. And she loves him for it.

“Yes.”

Tim shifts his hips then, pressing forward, the head of his cock slipping just inside her but this time, there’s nothing between them—just skin against skin, heat against heat.

The difference without a condom is immediate, the sensation more intimate, more raw. She can feel the heat of him, the hardness of his cock as he pushes deeper, the friction of skin against skin making her breath hitch in her throat. It’s intense, almost too much, and yet, at the same time, it’s exactly what she needs—exactly what she’s been craving.

“Fuck, Lucy,” he mutters, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of going slow when all he wants to do is bury himself inside her. “You are so fucking tight.”

The sensation is overwhelming, the fullness of him pressing against every sensitive spot —she can feel every inch of him, every throb, every pulse — and it’s almost too much.

Her eyes start to water, the intensity of the stretch bringing a sharp edge to the pleasure that courses through her. It’s not pain, exactly - it’s just more than she’s ever taken before. She blinks rapidly, her vision blurring slightly as she adjusts to the overwhelming feeling the further he moves in.

With their position, Tim notices immediately. His movements slow, his hand tightening on her hip as he leans down, his face inches from hers, concern darkening his eyes. “Lucy? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

She can barely think, her mind spinning with the intensity of what she’s feeling, but she knows she doesn’t want him to stop. She reaches out, her hand trembling slightly as she grabs his, her fingers threading through his, holding on tightly. The contact grounds her, gives her something to hold onto as she nods, her voice shaky but firm. “I’m okay,” she breathes, her eyes locking onto his. “Please, just keep going.”

Her breath comes in short, uneven gasps as he inches deeper, the fullness becoming almost unbearable, and yet, at the same time, it feels incredible—the way he fills her, the way her body stretches around him, adjusting to his size.'

Finally, Tim buries himself to the hilt, his cock pressed deep inside her, filling her completely. He leans down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath warm against her skin as he gives her a moment to adjust. His hand releases hers, sliding up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slips down her face. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes searching hers. “You’re so fucking perfect, Lucy.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust—he just stays there, buried deep inside her, letting her body adjust to him, letting her feel every inch of him. And then, slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing over hers in a soft, tender kiss. It’s gentle at first, his mouth moving against hers with a sweetness that makes her heart ache, but as the kiss deepens, it becomes more—a way for them to connect, to share in this moment together.

Her body begins to relax around him, the initial tightness easing as she melts into the kiss, into the moment, into him. The intensity of the stretch fades into something deeper, more intimate, the connection between them more profound than anything she’s ever felt before.

Tim pulls back just slightly, his lips hovering over hers as he whispers, “Tell me when you’re ready… I’ll wait for you.”

Her heart swells at his words, her breath trembling as she nods, her eyes locking onto his. “I’m ready,” she whispers back, her voice soft but sure. “I’m ready, Tim.”

At her confirmation, he begins to move again, his thrusts gentle, measured, as he starts to slide in and out of her, letting her feel every inch, every movement, every sensation. And Lucy, with her body now fully adjusted to him, feels herself opening up completely, ready to take him, ready to feel everything he has to give.

His lips trail down her neck, his breath warm against her skin as he moves lower, his mouth finding her breasts. He kisses the curve of one, then the other, his tongue flicking out to tease her nipple, his hand cupping the mound as he takes the hardened peak into his mouth.

Tim’s pace remains slow, measured, each thrust deliberate, the head of his cock dragging against her most sensitive spots every time he pushes back in. He moves with an almost agonizing precision, his body pressing hers into the mattress with each slow movement. His mouth continues its sweet torment on her breasts, sucking and teasing her nipples until they’re hard and aching, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

But as much as she loves the way he’s touching her, the way he’s taking his time, she can’t help the growing impatience that bubbles up inside her. The slow pace is driving her wild, making her body ache for more, for faster, for harder. She needs him—needs to feel the full force of him, the intensity she knows he’s holding back.

“Tim…” she moans, her voice trembling with need as she pulls his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I’m fine now, you can go faster.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips, and he nods, his hand sliding down to grip her hip as he shifts his angle slightly. “Sounds good to me.”

She barely has time to process his words before he starts to move again, his thrusts faster now, more forceful, each one driving deep into her, filling her completely. The change in pace is immediate, the sensation overwhelming, and she gasps, her fingers tightening around the sheets as her body arches off the bed, meeting his thrusts with equal urgency.

It’s then that she understands why he wanted her to rest against the headboard. With the force of his thrusts, she needs the support, something solid to brace herself against as he drives into her, hard and fast.

Her head falls back against the headboard as she loses herself in the intensity of it all, her fingers finding his arms and holding on so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “Tim… oh god,” she moans, her voice shaking with the sheer pleasure coursing through her.

His thrusts grow rougher, more demanding, each one driving her back into the headboard with a force that takes her by surprise. The bed creaks under the force of their movements, but Lucy barely notices, her mind lost in the sensation, in the way he’s taking her, claiming her, filling her so completely that she can’t think of anything else.

Her body is on fire, every nerve lit up, every inch of her skin hypersensitive to his touch, his thrusts, the way he fills her so completely that she feels like she’s going to break apart.

“Tim, don’t stop.”

He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin as he moves faster, harder, his cock driving into her with a force that makes her cry out, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. “I’m not stopping,” he says, his voice rough with desire as he fucks her harder, his hips slamming into hers with a rhythm that’s almost brutal in its intensity. “Not until I’ve made you come, Lucy… I want to feel you come around me.”

His words send a jolt of heat straight through her, her body responding instinctively, the tight coil in her belly winding tighter and tighter with every slide of his cock into her, every rough touch.

And then, suddenly, it happens. The orgasm hits her with a force that takes her completely by surprise, her body convulsing around him, every muscle tightening as the pleasure explodes inside her, a raw, powerful wave that crashes over her without warning. She cries out, her hands clutching his arm, her back arching off the bed as her body jerks uncontrollably, the intensity of it all-consuming, overwhelming.

Her mind goes blank, her vision blurring as the orgasm overwhelms her, her entire body trembling as the pleasure tears through her entire body. And still, Tim doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting into her, hard and fast, driving her even deeper into the headboard, prolonging the orgasm until she feels like she’s going to break from the intensity of it all.

She can barely catch her breath, her mind still spinning from the intensity of what just happened, when she feels his fingers slide down her stomach, tracing the slick path between her legs.

A groan escapes her lips as his fingers brush against her clit, the sensitivity so intense it makes her body jolt in response. “Tim,” she cries out, her voice trembling, her hands tightening as the overwhelming sensation surges through her. Her body is already on edge, every nerve lit up from the orgasm that still lingers, and the touch on her most sensitive spot makes her gasp in both pleasure and overstimulation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with desire as his fingers begin to move, rubbing slow circles into her clit. The motion is deliberate, teasing, and Lucy’s hips buck up instinctively, her body torn between the intense pleasure and the unbearable sensitivity.

His thrusts slow, his cock still buried deep inside her, stretching her, filling her, but it’s his fingers that hold her attention now. The circles he draws over her clit are relentless, the rhythm steady and unyielding, pushing her closer and closer to the edge again, despite the overwhelming sensitivity that has her gasping for breath.

“Tim… please,” she moans, her voice breaking as her body arches into his touch, her legs trembling around his waist. She not sure if she’s begging for him to stop or for more—everything feels too intense, too overwhelming, but the pleasure is undeniable, unstoppable.

“You can take it,” he says, his fingers never faltering, his voice rough with desire as he watches her. “I want to feel you come for me again, Lucy.”

A second orgasm rips through her without warning, just as powerful as the first, but sharper, more intense, the overstimulation sending her body into a frenzy of pleasure. She cries out, her back arching off the bed, her legs shaking as the orgasm tears through her, wave after wave of raw, uncontrollable pleasure that leaves her gasping, moaning, completely lost in the sensation.

Lucy lies beneath him, her body utterly spent, every muscle trembling from the intensity of her back-to-back orgasms. She feels completely drained, her limbs heavy, her mind still hazy from the overwhelming pleasure that had her shaking just moments ago. Yet, despite her exhaustion, she can feel the heat of Tim’s body, the weight of him pressing against her as he continues to move inside her.

His pace quickens now, his thrusts more urgent, his body seeking its own release. Each time he drives into her, she feels the force of it, the way he’s holding back less and less, his control slipping as he nears the edge. The roughness of it is different now, more frantic, and she can feel the need building in him through their bond.

“Tim,” she whispers, her voice breathy and tired, but filled with the same desire that had consumed her earlier. “Come for me.”

The words hit him hard as his body tenses, his thrusts becoming more frantic, less controlled, each one pushing him closer to the edge.

Her own body, though spent, responds to his need, her hips tilting up to meet him, legs wrapping around his waist as she pulls him deeper, letting him chase his own high. The sensation of his cock, still thick and hard inside her, still stretching her, drives her wild despite the exhaustion. She’s so sensitive, every movement sends a jolt of sensation through her, but she craves it, craves him.

She watches him, her eyes half-lidded, heart pounding in her chest as she takes in the sight of him—the way his jaw clenches, the way his muscles strain, the way his entire being seems focused on reaching that final moment of release. And it’s in that moment that she realizes something she’s never fully thought about before.

She’s never let a man cum inside her before.

She’s never experienced this level of intimacy—never known what it feels like for a man to lose himself inside her, to fill her up completely. And now, with Tim’s cock thick and hard, pounding into her with reckless abandon, she’s about to feel it for the first time.

Tim groans, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body tenses, his thrusts growing more erratic, more frantic. His hips snap forward, burying himself deep inside her, and Lucy can feel the exact moment it happens. His cock twitches and he buries himself all the way in, and then she feels it—a sudden, warm rush as he begins to spill inside her.

As the final waves of his orgasm surges through him, his body gives out, collapsing on top of her. His chest presses against hers, his weight comforting as he lets out a deep, satisfied groan. His cock remains buried deep inside her, still twitching, still pulsing, as the last of his release spills into her, filling her completely. The warmth of his cum mixes with her own wetness, their combined fluids pooling inside her before it begins to seep out around his cock, slowly leaking from her and coating the insides of her thighs.

His arms wrap around her waist, holding her close, as if he’s unwilling to let go of this moment, of the space they’ve shared. Lucy sighs softly, her hands sliding up his back, tracing the contours of his muscles as she holds him in return, savoring the feeling of being completely surrounded by him.

For a moment, they stay like that, breathing together, their bodies still connected, their shared heat mingling in the aftermath. But then, slowly, Tim shifts, his arms tightening around her as he rolls them both over until she’s resting on his chest, her legs still tangled around his waist. His cock slips out of her as they move, leaving her feeling suddenly empty, the loss of him inside her noticeable.

Tim’s hand slides up her back, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her spine as he holds her close, his other hand resting on the small of her back, keeping her pressed against him. He’s still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling beneath her, but there’s a peacefulness in his touch, a softness in the way he cradles her that makes her feel completely safe, completely content.

Their bond is steady as it hums deep within her—a gentle, soothing presence that flows between them, connecting them in a way that goes beyond the physical. It’s always there, a sting that ties them together. But now, in this moment, it feels different—stronger, deeper, more complete.

It’s as though the connection between them has shifted, deepened, expanded beyond anything she’s ever felt. There isn’t just a string that ties them together anymore—no, it’s so much more than that now. Tim feels like a part of her, an extension of her own body, his emotions blending seamlessly with hers in a way that makes it impossible to tell where he ends and she begins. Their bond is no longer just something she feels; it’s something she is. A part of her soul, woven into the very fabric of her being. She’s never felt more complete, more whole, than she does in this moment.

Tim presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently stroking her hair as he holds her close. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice soft, his breath warm against her skin.

She shifts slightly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, and with a soft, teasing smile, she lifts her head just enough to look at him. “Remind me why we didn’t we do this months ago?”

He grins down at her, his eyes filled with amusement and affection. “Because,” he says, his voice low, still laced with humor, “if you remember, I was still your Training Officer months ago. I don’t think it would’ve been very appropriate for us to be doing… this.” He gestures between their bodies with a teasing grin, the implication of his words making her giggle against his chest.

“Right,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, her lips brushing against his skin as she speaks. “There’s that whole professionalism thing, huh?”

He laughs, the sound low and deep, reverberating through his chest. He strokes her hair with one hand, his fingers gently trailing down her spine. “You don’t have anything to worry about now,” he says, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Because now you can have me whenever you want.”

“Your ego,” she says, leaning in closer, her teeth grazing his collarbone with a gentle bite, “is way bigger than it should be.”

“Is that so?” His hand snakes down her body, fingers slipping lower until they find her ass. He gives it a firm squeeze, massaging the muscle there as his voice drops lower. “Are you saying I don’t have a reason to feel proud of my abilities?”

A quiet moan escapes her lips before she can stop it, her breath catching as his hand moves, kneading her ass with slow, deliberate pressure. “I didn’t say that,” she breathes. “You definitely have a reason to be proud of yourself. I just really need to stop feeding that ego of yours.”

His grin turns wicked, his fingers continuing their slow massage, making her squirm slightly against him. “Maybe,” he teases, his thumb brushing against the curve of her hip as his other hand trails up her back. “But you seem to like stroking my ego, don’t you?”

Lucy’s breath hitches, a soft, involuntary moan slipping past her lips again as she feels his fingers press harder into her skin, the heat between them sparking to life once more. “You’re going to be insufferable after this, aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” he says with a teasing edge, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Lucy shakes her head, her laugh soft but filled with warmth as she presses her lips to his collarbone, letting herself melt into the moment - into him. “No,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection. “I really wouldn’t.”

Notes:

🔥🔥Dear lord, I REALLY got carried away with this chapter. Once I started, the words just kept flowing and then all of a sudden it was almost at 11,000 words long! I honestly have no idea how I managed that, but hopefully this was enough to fill your desire for things to finally get SPICY. Anywaysss, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry that there wasn't too much going on in this chapter besides our two favorites getting it ON. This chapter was totally necessary though ;)