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Lydia had found God. She found him in Stiles, with his head between her thighs and her own head thrown back as she gripped the sheets. She swore she found heaven, or at least something like it. Nothing could ever make her feel this good, this content, than Stiles. She loved the way he'd look up at her through long lashes and a determined look in his eye. She loved the way his long, strong hands gripped her hips and pushed them down toward the mattress when she'd try to grind against his tongue. She especially loved the way his mouth moved against her as she came violently against him.
She'd moan his name so desperately sometimes it was embarrassing, but with a mouth like his, how can you blame her? She'd tangle her fingers in his hair and tug slightly at the strands as she arched her back and let her orgasm spread through every inch of her body. She'd watch with hooded eyes as he licked his lips and made his way up her. He'd kiss her with this need that drove her wild. Everything he did drove her wild. The way he moved inside her and watched her so carefully, it was sometimes overwhelming. When he'd look at her with those big brown eyes, she never knew that love could make her ache so bad.
Stiles made her this way. He was the first boy to ever make her feel this. No one else. Every time she saw him, her heart sped up. Whether it be at school down the hall or sitting next to her on the couch, her heart would race. And god when he would kiss her she saw fireworks explode behind her eyelids. It was like she finally knew what all those cheesy pop songs were about, and she loved it. Stiles made her want to shout from rooftops and blast the radio with the windows down. And when he made her come multiple times in one day, she swore there was a God.
Her favorite moments had to be when she watched him come for a change. Although having mind blowing orgasms was amazing, seeing Stiles come? That was another story. He'd do this thing where he'd try to focus on her, try to please her before himself, and it had to be the hottest thing she had ever seen. Most of the time she'd let him do it, she'd be stupid if she didn't, but other times she'd shake her head and push him back onto the bed. She'd start by placing her hands on his chest and slowly move her hips in small circles, he'd bite his lip and close his eyes. After a minute or so she'd build up some speed, watching his face twist with emotion. She'd smirk when he'd furrow his brows and part his lips because that was a sign she was getting to him.
"Lydia," He'd groan, moving her hips a bit quicker. She'd let out a small laugh and remove his hands from her hips. Lydia placed his hands next to his head and intertwined their fingers. Although he could have easily over powered her and take control, he never did. He let her hold his hands down and ride him so slow it pained even Lydia.
As she picked up speed and her moans began to grow loud, that's when it really began. Stiles would keep his eyes locked on hers as he moaned her name lowly and whispered dirty things to her with every move of her hips. His cheeks began to redden and his groans turned to grunts and he began to beg her to let him touch her.
"Lydia, please." He'd beg as she bounced on top of him. She'd bite her lip and shake her head. For every beg she'd rolls her hips so slow and arch her back just enough to make the two of them shudder. "Fuck, Lydia I don't think I can do this. I think you're going to kill me." He'd pant looking at her roll her hips and close her eyes in pleasure. "Please just let me touch you." He'd whine biting his lip and groaning as she lowered herself deeper on to him. And with one deep thrust she moaned, almost shouted, his name and moved her hands to his chest to stabilize herself from falling over.
In an instant his hands were on her hips moving her quickly as he thrust frantically into her, slamming her against him, hitting her in places that made her see spots. Her hair cascaded around her as she bowed her head and let her orgasm shake her body. Their eyes would meet as they came down together, his hands moving her hips in small circles making her orgasm draw out a bit longer. She'd moan his name quietly as she fell forward onto his chest.
Coming down was an experience. They'd lie there for a while in silence as she'd draw patterns with her finger against his chest. She'd watch his chest rise and fall and he'd hold her closely as he calmed his breathing. She found God in the way his hand shook slightly as he trailed it along her arm. She found him in the way he looked at her and the way he held her so close.
And when he whispered he loved her in the quietness of the room, she knew she found a savior. She found it in Stiles.