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There was no time to panic. After the sound of glass breaking woke you up, the countdown to for making critical decisions had begun. Your first priority was to orient yourself and calculate how to act accordingly.
You inhaled sharply, proceeding to hold your breath. Yes, someone in the apartment. Ginger footsteps padded through the kitchen, the sound carrying through the thin wooden apartment door. The person sounded as though they were unsure of their footing, perhaps loath to make more noise than they already had. Could it be just a robber? Could you be that lucky? You slid out from under the covers.
Quietly, your hands reached for the nightstand. Each ugly, intruding step aligned with the slow ascent of your pulse rate.
Opening the drawer was nerve wracking; surely the sound was loud enough to signal to whoever was in your apartment that the occupant was awake. But there was no time to dwell on that, no, now was the time to be quick; your fingertips brushed the barrel first, and in a moment, the gun was properly situated in your grasp.
It had been your hope that you wouldn’t need it again so soon. The sounds began to quicken as the intruder made their way closer to the bedroom door. Fuck had they heard you? With another breath you were padding towards the door in order to touch it. The door was locked at least, a habit you’d picked up years ago. Fingers lightly caressing the cheap wood, your brow furrowed in concentration. Show me, you thought, willing the cheap wood to cooperate. The picture was a little fuzzy at first, likely due to the rough awaken from sleep and sharp thrill of adrenaline. Each passing second brought the scene more sharply into focus.
The kitchen was obviously dark, illuminated only by the moonlight. But there he was. Short, wiry, wearing a mask - that much you could see in your mind’s eye. A bead of sweat dripped down your neck. He was close, acting as if he’d just noticed the locked door. A couple more tentative steps and he’d be reaching his hands around the handle.
Here it comes, you thought, taking a few steadying breaths before taking aim. The consideration as to whether you should call out that you were armed was interrupted by a pained yelp and footsteps barreling closer to center of the kitchen. You lifted your hand in surprise.
“Fuck,” the intruder on the other side of the door screeched, the sound followed by a heavy thud hitting the floor. You heard a few more pointed thoughts thuds- he was he being kicked? Who else was in the apartment?
“Please no, stop,” pleaded the injured man, his voice cracking with pain. That voice was familiar. What the hell? You concentrating on the scuffle. Who could have anticipated that someone would try to attack you tonight and intervened? Or was this his competition?
“What are you doing here? Who sent you?” The second speaker was another man. His sentence was almost a growl, but the voice was faintly recognizable.
Holy shit was that your neighbor? You squeezed your eyes shut before touching the door more firmly and trying to confirm the guess using your ‘second sight.’ This time, an image that brought you a brief thrill greeted your mind’s eye; your potential rescuer was taller than the first man and nicely built. That was indeed your neighbor. When Dex crouched down towards the man on the ground, you pressed your hand almost painfully against the door, concentrating.
“I just wanted to rob the place man, check my backpack,” the down man was crying. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, I don’t even have a knife on me. No one is home.” God that pathetic voice was irritatingly familiar, making you scrunch your face in confusion. Your ex-boss, the artifact stealer?
Dex twisted the knife in response, a cruel smile etching itself across his handsome face. The moonlight sharpened his contours. He looked every inch a predator. If he turned on you, you knew it could be all over. He was more perfect than you initially thought.
“See I almost believed you, but I recognize you. You’ve been following my girl around. Who are you and why are you here?” again he dug that knife around, but the muffled cries (Dex had leaned over to cover the man’s mouth) were not your concern anymore. You were blushing.
My girl?
Oh now was time to risk it. Dex was the man you’d come to love greeting in the morning and chatting with whenever schedules aligned. The man you’d made cinnamon rolls for after he helped you move a new dresser from the ground floor up into the apartment when the elevator was out and he just had so happened to be walking by? Who asked you earlier that day to dinner with him this Saturday as a “thank you” for them, even though you were thanking him?
He’d called you his girl and you were going to ride that high. Your throat tightened, suppressing the strong temptation to giggle. This was not an appropriate situation for laughter.
“Dex?” You kept your voice soft, even, just the barest hint of lilt at the end of his name.
“I’ve got it all under control sweetheart don’t worry, go back to bed,” he called back. Assertive, entirely calm. Cheerful even. Like he was talking about a new recipe to you in the hallway, not killing a potential assailant in your kitchen.
“Dex I have to tell you, I have a gun. It isn’t aimed at you. May I come out? You’re not my target,” you kept your voice equally as pleasant, waiting for his reply. He had many positive attributes but did not seem like a good person to surprise.
“Oh you do, do you?” His reply hinted an undercurrent of laughter. “It’s not pretty, and it’ll probably get worse. You sure you want to see this?”
The man cried out again. Dex had twisted the knife.
“Yeah Dex, I’m sure.” You unlocked the door carefully, allowing Dex to tell you no before slowly turning the handle. When the door was fully opened, the aftermath of the frenzied attack was laid bare.
The intruder lay on your dark wooden floor, ghastly pale in the moonlight, blood staining his clothes. There was a large knife in his chest that. Dex was crouching, his hands hovering just above the handle. Torturing the man was obviously what he had been doing, the wound’s messiness was visible to you. Dex slowly brought his to rest on his thighs, before looking up at you. You mimicked his actions, lowering the gun to the ground. You’d begun to doubt your would-be attacker had back up.
The man whimpered, drawing both your attention. The intruder’s mouth worked silently, perhaps in prayer. He turned his head to face you, eyes widening for a second before unfocusing again. He would be dead soon from the smell of metal in the air.
“Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you,” Dex raised his hands, moving with excruciating gentleness. The care brought the hint of a smile to your lips before you once again looked at the man lying there. Dex had unmasked him. Yeah, it was your ex-boss, Nathan.
“Fuck,” you sighed, running your hand through your hair. Nathan should have believed you when you said you didn’t didn't have the artifact he was searching for on you. Dex interrupted your thoughts, making a small sound in the back of his throat. You drew your attention back to his expression seeing the composure began to crack. Anxiety creeped into his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak.
“I promise. I won’t hurt you; he broke in, I thought he would hurt you,” Dex’s words tumbled out quickly.
“Oh it isn’t that. You don’t have to explain anything; that’s my ex-boss. He’s who I was celebrating getting fired from the museum last week when we ran into each other at the bar. I believe you Dex.” Afterall, Nathan, who looked to be dead at this point, had been dangerous. But Dex? You knew with every fiber of your being that your former boss had nothing on him.
That was just fine by you. That’s where your comfort lay.
Other witches could control fire. You? You had psychometry (lately there’d been a few hints of telepathy, but it was nothing you wanted to bet on). Being able to “read an object” was useful as a curator and operative, but not often in combat. Hence why you owned a gun and learned how to use it and other weapons.
Dex’s expression pinched in surprise as he appraised your rather nonplussed composure. Who were you, really? After watching his very sweet neighbor for weeks he could have never anticipated this reaction.
You let him look at you for a moment, then remembered what was at your feet, “I’m going to put the gun away, alright?”
Dex nodded, continuing to watch you with relative curiosity.
You crouched down to pick it up before turning on your heel, placing the weapon into its former spot before turning your head to look for your phone. As if reading your mind, you heard him clear his throat.
“Don’t - don’t call the police,” Dex’s voice called out, a slight note of concern coloring the tone.
Your reply was cheerful. “Don’t worry, I’m not. They’d be no help. I’m very certain I know why he’s here. He died for nothing; I don’t have what he’s looking for.” You held your phone, low, not up to your head yet.
Turning on back to face Dex, you’d noticed he’d made no move when weren’t facing him. It was only at this moment that Dex straightened up, looking down at you with a bewildered expression. It was a view you could get used to and you very nearly laughed, managing restraint instead.
“I’m going to call in a favor from someone who will make this mess go away, if that’s ok? No one will never know you were here.” You didn’t move. You waited for his permission.
Dex threw his head back at that moment, laughing as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Deep choking laughs that likely could turn into sobs if the mood was frenetic enough.
“You’re one surprise after the next, what a treat. How?” Dex’s previous easy-going attitude returned and he stepped towards you grinning. He dropped the knife he’d been hold on the floor, blade landing harmlessly between a slight crack between the boards. It was an impressive ‘shot.’
“I don’t think I can tell you just yet, but I hope I can one day. I promise you that no one will know you were here though.” You looked up at him, raising your chin just slightly. He stared at your face, as if he were memorizing every detail.
“No cops,” you added, fingering the sleeve of your nightgown. “And they’ll never find a trace of him. No gangs either, not the mayor’s men. My helpers are quite outside this city. They’re… good guys, though I know it doesn’t sound like it.”
That phrase seemed to mean something to Dex. His face lit up, the expression that caused you to stop in your tracks when you first saw him in the stairwell.
“I like what I’m hearing,” Dex decided to say. He looked over at the man on the floor, now expired. “Really. No trace?” He hadn’t vocalized it, but the fact you weren’t about to tell him everything endeared you to him. Someone who could keep a secret was someone who he could rely on. Of course, it didn’t hurt that you looked like an angel in your tiny white nightgown. An angel who didn’t run when watching a man take another man’s life and who owned an impressive caliber of weapon. Cool and collected under pressure.
“None.” You raised your head looking at him. “But you may want to go back to your apartment, it’ll make everything simpler. They’ll be here quite soon after I call.”
“You want me to wait up for you?” he asked, not quite ready to let you go for the night if he didn’t have to. As if reading your mind, his gaze drifted to the clock reading 12:45 am. “I don’t mind. I can come here when they’re done or you can join me. I don’t have a lot of seating unfortunately,” he gave you a small grin.
You looked at your dead ex-boss and back at him. “Yeah. I’d love that Dex. I’ll meet you if it’s alright.”
Dex grinned before turning to walk towards the door. If it had been daytime, he would have been tempted to whistle. Given that it was the middle of the night, he’d have to settle for drumming his hands against his thigh. Less than an hour ago you were the soft-spoken museum curator he’d come to have a strong fondness for (if he were being a gentleman). The kind of person who volunteered to teach to kids and give presentations to the elderly. Who liked to bake and gave him endless podcast and book recommendations when he decided to stage an accidental encounter. Sometimes you looked a little sad, even haunted. That was beginning to make more sense now.
Dex liked the two versions of what he’d seen and wanted to know more.
He looked around his own apartment, unsure if you’d decided to join him there. Everything was relatively neat, he kept a rather fastidious house. A shower seemed liked the best idea after what had transpired. The faintest metallic note had clung to him, but was replaced by much more pleasant scents of sandalwood and clove.
Dex thought about what he’d say if you’d asked about how he knew there was someone in your apartment. He had been coming home from a late-night jog and noticed someone slipping into your apartment. But he had also been standing there watching the apartment and trying to imagine what you were doing or looked like sleeping; that he probably needed to leave out.
What he didn’t know was that you had similar proclivities. You were impatiently waiting for your friends to finish their 'cleaning' job and daydreaming about him. Aside from some supernatural curatorial duties, your routine was relatively mundane. Bumping into Dex had brought some color into your life. He was magnetic, one of the few humans capable of capturing your attention. You wondered what it would be like to run your hands through his hair or be scooped into his embrace. If you were being honest, you wondered a lot more but that was not a good line of thought to ponder with others in your apartment.
“All done dear. Leaving now.” Your fellow coven member gave you a wink before disappearing.
You’d sat up from your chair, seeing no trace of the break in or death. Everything was as it had been before.
“Thanks,” you said to the empty air before grabbing your purse, phone, and keys. You’d changed from your nightgown into a slightly more hallway appropriate pair of soft sleep shorts and buttondown sleepshirt. The building ran a little warm at this time of year. This outfit wouldn’t make another neighbor blink twice if you ran into anyone tonight or after sunrise. After slipping on your shoes, you made your way to Dex’s apartment. Without hesitation, you knocked three times on the door in short succession.
A moment later, the door opened. Dex had showered and changed, no longer wearing all black but instead a thin cotton t shirt and grey joggers. It was difficult not to stare at him with how incredible he looked.
“Come in,” he said opening the door with a smile you returned. You’d been in his apartment briefly before. It was a tidy space but welcoming enough to you. The basic colors were calming.
“Can I get you anything to drink or ?” his voice trailed off before he added, “I made coffee.”
“I would love a little coffee. Need any help with anything?”
He shook his head, “please, sit,” he pulled out a seat at the table for you, earning a bright smile. Dex returned the expression, asking how you’d like your coffee and eventually setting down two steaming mugs. He took a seat next to you, rather than across the table. He was closer to you this way, leg able to brush against yours.
“Thank you, for everything. You were incredible” you smiled at him when took a seat next to you. He met the praise with a little grin, the faintest hint of flush on his cheeks.
“I feel like you may have a better handle on these kinds of situations than I first anticipated,” Dex kept his voice light, almost teasing. He’d decided to broach the subject the moment he heard the knocks on his door. You’d actually come to him.
“My work has a little more action than the typical curatorial position,” you glanced down at the mug, touching the porcelain lightly but ignoring the impulse to scry. You added softly,
“Your line of work must be interesting.”
Dex sighed. “It is, just trying to do a good deed,” he tapped the table, his easy mood appearing a bit more forced. He struggled to keep his lips from curling downward. A pang of sadness hit your own stomach, instinct prompting you to soothe him.
“Dex,” you placed your hand next to his, almost touching. “Don’t worry.”
“That’s easier to say than do,” he gave a wry laugh. You remained still, eyes shining with intensity. He liked that about you, you really listened.
“No one will find out about Nathan, you’ll be fine. I promise.” You still didn’t broach that small space between you.
“You’re not worried that I asked for no cops?” he looked up at you expression unreadable. Yes he had decided to bring it up, but the conversation felt more difficult than he had anticipated.
“I think you’ll explain why in good time, and it’ll be a similar reason as to why I would have suggested you also not do that,” you leaned towards him slightly, watching his eyes widen as he registered your words.
“You’re protecting me?” he looked down at your hands. He’d stumbled over the word protecting, but there was nothing else to describe your actions. No one ever protected him.
“I’m being responsible. I like you, I don't know why but I'm inclined to trust you. I have a gift for reading…things,” you hesitated, thinking of all the times you’d received flashes about this man from the shared objects in the building. He’d endured something similar to a world you’d been rescued from. “And yes, I want to protect you. Other people have gifts for reading things as well.”
Dex was silent and at last he reached out, not brushing your hand but covering it with his.
You didn’t pull away, instead you squeezed it gently.
“I’m a little scared I’ll scare you,” vulnerability crept into his voice. He wasn’t a clairvoyant, but there was something about how easily you put him at ease and drew him to you that this could easily become the most important relationship of his life.
You again tried not to laugh, thinking of the objects you’d brushed in your time and the stories you’d seen.
“Well,” your heart swelled with warmth at his admission, “we’ll cross that bridge when we got there, but right now,” you squeezed his hand once more, “I want you to know nothing you did scared me. I thanked you for a reason.”
Dex's shoulders sunk with relief. The tension that had been plaguing his thoughts since he watched you walk out the bedroom door. You’d register seeing him play with a knife in a man’s chest. Dex didn’t regret his actions. Your ex-boss had needed to die so he didn’t hurt you. But he could have regretted frightening you out of his life; your acceptance was so very needed.
Slowly, you leaned forward, watching for any sign of discomfort. Dex sighed when he felt the soft touch of your hand on his cheek. He leaned into the gentleness, letting himself enjoy it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had reached to comfort him.
Overwhelmed, he placed his hand over yours and slid both towards his mouth, kissing the pulse point on your wrist. He could feel the small flutter quicken under his lips. You muffled a little gasp.
His lips were on your skin. The warm ember you’d held in your stomach since you’d heard him call you “his girl” roared to life. It was a bold, pure flame.
Dex’s eyes opened, actions stalling as he gauged your reaction. Your cheeks were quite flushed, pupils dilated slightly.
“You don’t have to stop, I’m,” you gestured towards your flushed face, “good. You're really good.”
Hot. Bothered. Those were more accurate terms.
“Oh,” a sly grin emerged on his face, one that made you feel another wave of arousal. Slowly he reached for your hand once more. He began to kiss your wrist slowly while making eye contact.
You exhaled, feeling your face grow even hotter.
“That’s so cute, your blush doesn’t stop at your face,” Dex traced the pointer finger of his free hand down your face to your throat, burning a path with his actions. His hand came to rest on the back of your neck, pressing gently with the utmost care.
“I think we can move this conversation from the kitchen table,” you whispered, feeling heat continuing to pool below your stomach. The corners of his mouth tilted up when he heard those words.
“I agree,” Dex’s eyes drifted towards the bed: one of the few advantages of a small apartment. He didn’t let go of your hand, standing with you. He moved so quickly, it was beyond comprehension. Dex enveloped you in a warm, muscular embrace.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, feeling how good you felt in his arms. He could smell the vanilla and violet notes from the shampoo you used earlier that evening. Was that your heart fluttering like a bird or his? It didn’t matter. He leaned down, restraining himself for a moment.
“I think this changes everything sweetheart,” he whispered.
“It’s been changing Dex,” you whispered. “Everything is better.”
He made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat. The words were all he needed to hear. Dex leaned down further, lips ghosting against yours with a poignant tenderness, at odds with how he tightly he held you.
“Sweetheart,” you murmured, his endearment this time. His eyes closed while he moved to rest his forehead against yours, hands resting at your side. He enjoyed the quiet, intimate moment.
But would not last. His hands tightened against your waist, eyes crinkling into a smile when he heard your delighted laugh. Dex kissed your lips once more, parting them with his tongue. You returned his attention, gently at first before matching his own unique rhythm. He liked the way you tasted, good, faint mint and a hint of coffee. He loved how you made satisfied sounds and brought a hand up to caress his face. The sweetness of your gestures and gentleness was what first drew him to you. He sunk into the feeling of your touch.
This was not only a kiss, it anchored a new reality. A better reality, one where he knew he had found someone who someone with the capacity to accept him and who he desperately wanted to know better. He would earn your trust to learn your secrets.
When he broke away, your lips pursed in protest, but Dex let out a throaty laugh. He took a few steps back around, allowing you to fall effortlessly onto his bed. Unbidden, a flash of intense loneliness and pain tore through your system, causing your lips to twitch and eyes shut.
“Was I too rough, are you alright?” His voice was laced with deep concern. Damn it, you should have been in more control.
“No, you’re perfect,” you gave a small smile, twinged with something he couldn’t identify. He sensed that you were toying with saying something more.
“I’m prone to melancholy. Kiss me, Dex.” You reached out a hand, invited him to come to you.
It was an odd statement but one that he was receptive to.
Dex gingerly laid a knee on the bed, watching your face for any glint of hesitation. He saw your eyes sweep over his frame, lips parting in excitement. He moved quickly, not want to hold back; he was on top of you, caging you under his frame. He breathed, taking a moment to feel how your body felt, muscle taut with excitement and hands gripping his biceps. You clearly were enjoying his body, legs spreading apart easily to receive his weight. He ran a hand down your side, flirting with the edge of the pajama pant. He leaned down again to caress your throat with his lips. Your skin was soft and warm, a taste that he would never be able to get enough of. He peppered kisses until reaching a particularly sensitive point on the side of your neck. He deepened the kiss, sucking the area lightly. Your little sighs were music to his ears.
Dex’s actions had you squirming underneath him. He alternated the infernal sucking with nibbling the tender spot on your throat, enjoying when one of your hands had wound its way into his hair. He noticed the way your legs had widened underneath him and that you had begun to rock against him. You were desperate for friction.
“Off?” He asked, holding the bottom of your shirt. After you nodded, he began slowly unbuttoning it, pressing a kiss down after each careful ministration. Your throat tightened with pleasure.
“Fair is fair,” you tugged at his own t-shirt after he’d removed yours. Dex let out a faux sigh as those the action had pained him. It made you giggle before he returned to his previous position directly above you.
He was built like an adonis. You continued to knead his bicep and before caressing his strong shoulders and moving your hands to his back. How long had you wanted to do this?
Dex looked down at your body with eyes alight with hunger. He’d begun to press his hips to yours subconsciously, groaning when he felt the heat of your core.
“You’re beautiful sweetheart,” Dex murmured caressing your breasts with his hands, gently at first and eventually palming and kneading when he felt your impatience. Grinning he went back to kissing that special little spot on your neck that elicited pretty noises while he continued to enjoy how your body felt beneath him. He eventually nipped a path from that point on your neck towards your right breast, taking it his mouth and teasing your nipple with his tongue and lips. It made you arch against him, legs now entirely open and core grinding into him to release of some of the building pressure. He was working you over, building an even hotter fire. When he was done with your right breast, he lavished attention on the other. He been yearning to bury his face in your chest ever since he’d ran into you bringing in groceries in that tiny white dress with blue flowers on it. He’d laid awake at night picturing you wear that while he ruined you with his mouth.
Underneath him, it was hard not drown in the sensation. Dex hadn’t needed any guidance, seemingly knowing your body instinctually.
“Please,” you murmured, rocking your hips up to meet his, feeling something very long and thick. He let out a little moan, kissing down your chest to the waistband of those tiny shorts. Fluidly, he tugged them off while you lifted your hips to aid him.
You were entirely bare for him. He never considered himself an art collector or a connoisseur of any kind, but now his apartment held a masterpiece.
He let his hands roam over your body once more, feeling how soft your skin was sweeping towards the inside of your thighs. You smelled amazing, and he tightened his grasp before sweeping closer to where he knew you wanted to be touched. He could see moisture glistening at your opening making his wet his lips with anticipation.
“Dex?” your voice was soft yet heady. He was looking at you like a starving man had been served a meal
“Yes?” he light brushed his thumb against your opening making your hips jerk. “Shh babe, don’t run I’ll chase.” Lightly, he circled around your entrance with his thumbs, making a mental map before leaning down. He kissed the inside of your right thigh before licking a strip up your slit.
“Should have invited you here sooner,” he looked up you enjoying the wild expression on a normally calm face, “with how good you taste.”
He dove in then, hands on your thighs to feel them shake. He caressed your folds with his tongue before dipping into the entrance nose bumping against your clit. Your wove your hands in his hair, causing him to let out a low and guttural moan. Oh God, how could you feel so dizzy while laying down? He licked up towards your clit, watching your face while slipping a finger inside of you.
The feeling had your legs starting to shake, causing the bastard to ease up on the pressure. He lifted his head, leisurely pumping his hand to the effect of obscene sounds.
“You doing alright there?” his voice was light and teasing making you roll your eyes.
“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, though squeezing tightly around him when he added another finger. He stroked your g-spot effortlessly, seeming to know how to play you like a fiddle.
“Tell me what you want,” his voice was low, husky. He was drunk off the power he held over you.
“I want you inside of me,” you were panting now, squirming once more.
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he kissed the top of your clit before dipping his head down once more. The feeling of his mouth and fingers sent waves throughout your body. He licked circles, increasing in pressure until he felt your body tighten exquisitely. There you were, coming undone for him. Dex kept up his actions until your body relaxed. He lifted his head, taking in your flushed form and heavy breathing.
“My god,” you laughed, reaching down to cup his face with your hand.
“No need to call me that sweetheart, but I'll take it.”
He earned another giggle that warmed his heart, and after a moment, he leaned backward before standing to completely disrobe.
“Wait,” you sat up a little, “let me look at you.”
It was his turn to feel a flush on his face, but from your expression, there was nothing but frank regard and appreciation. Your pupils were dilated and you had a grin. Dex was incredibly handsome and well-made.
“Must be annoying to walk around with that all day,” you teased, changing from reclining to kneeling. You gripped his cock, long and thick and feeling just right in your hand. You gave him a few pumps, sweeping your thumb over the head to collect the pre-cum. You pressed a kiss to his toned stomach, free hand caressing his outer thigh. He stiffened just slightly in your hand.
“I need you now,” his voice was thick with want. Any thought to tease him about not being able to take what he gave died on your lips.
Wordlessly you nodded, letting go of him but still admiring that adonis-like body. You reclined, letting him lean over your body and opening your legs for him. His thick cock smacked against your core, making you both whimper a little. Dex reached down, groaning as he coated himself in your wetness. You were so fucking hot, it was driving him mad, especially with how you were looking at him in that moment.
“Please,” you pleaded, lips forming a pout. He leaned over to kiss you, pushing inside gently, slowly. He stopped the moment he felt your body stiffen, checking your face for any discomfort.
You cupped his face once more, touched by his care.
“I’m alright Dex,” you told him honestly. He’d done a wonderful job preparing you for him, it was just going to be a stretch regardless with his girth. There was no pain, only adjustment. “I need you.”
“This is better than I ever imagined,” he whispered before continuing to sheath himself fully inside of you. By God he saw stars when he started to move. You were hot liquid silk, swallowing him. He grimaced with pleasure, trying to resist the urge to snap his hips against you and pound into you. Then you wrapped your legs around him. Where you trying to kill him with the way you met his thrusts?
You moaned, loving how he was filling you to the brim and touching spots that made your toes curl. His pace was still relatively slow, something that made your heart swell with affection. Your neighbor was so considerate.
But it was time to fix that.
“Dex,” you let out his name as a little moan causing him to have to swallow before replying.
“Mmm?” as if it took intense concentration. He was wound up tight.
“I want to ride you,” you said sweetly,” ghosting your hand over his arm. He blinked in surprise and pulled out of you, making your lips purse a bit at the loss of contact. Dex reclined next to you, before leaning forward and placing a large hand on your should while giving you a kiss. It was a sweet moment, tinged with gratitude.
When you broke away he laid back and you were on him in a flash, this time sliding much more easily onto his cock. Your pace that made you grateful for your time in the gym.
Dex laughed, understanding the game you had played immediately. Another delicious surprise from you. His hands dug into the side of your ass as you rode him with a steady cadence, making his eyes roll back into his head. You placed your hands on his shoulders, rocking yourself against the rhythm he supplying with the subtle guiding of his hands. Dex felt so good inside of you, it made you clench. He looked damn good underneath you too.
Deftly, one his hands found your clit. He was desperate to make you fall apart again. He hadn’t known heaven was just a couple doors down from him.
“God you’re just, so fucking good,” you groaned, earning a sly grin. He loved his view, the way your eyes closed with enjoyment. Your pussy clenched around him, and he began to thrust into you, making your cadence falter with the sheer enjoyment.
“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me,” he urged, increasing the pressure on your clit. A coil had wound in his own stomach. You felt so delicious to him, he couldn’t stand it.
The feeling of his actions pushed you over the edge, and you were orgasming on top him.
Beautiful, he thought before very nearly repeating your actions. Seeing you on top of him, blissed out, was too much for him to take. He was only a man at the end of the day.
“Where can I-” he began to say but you shook your head.
“Inside. Pill.”
Dex groaned with pleasure, revelling in his own release. He thrust up into you through it, until finally coming down from that high. You leaned forward, smoothing the hair that had fallen forward to the side.
“Thank you,” you whispered, giving him a sweet kiss before lying next to him. Despite how hot you both felt, you moved to embrace one another. Dex buried his face in the side of your neck, gripping you tightly. Neither of your spoke, only listening to each other’s slowing breathing. You held him, finally coming to terms with the events of the night so far. Both of you traveled in different but related circles, you thought as you traced those shapes on his back.
“You must have seen a lot,” he murmured after a moment as if reading your mind. “To be so calm and come to me tonight. There’s… a lot more. Blood. Violence.”
“I’ve gotten that sense Dex,” your voice was light, reassuring. “I don’t think either of us can be with people who aren’t familiar with chaos and its world.”
He laughed a little in spite of himself, “are you also an author?”
“I have a PhD, Dex,” you wrinkled your nose in displeasure and pulling away just slightly.
“Oh, that’s where you draw the line,” his laugh was now more genuine and he kissed the tip of your nose, mollifying you.
“Sorry doctor,” he shifted slightly so you were underneath him once more and began to kiss you again with fervor. You could taste yourself on his lips from earlier and let your hands roam his back, massaging the muscles. He was hard against you once more, something you welcomed with a roll of your hips. Dex slipped in easily this time, your entrance even more slick from his release.
“So fucking good for me,” he murmured, hand cupping the side of your face. You sucked on his bottom lip, loving how it made him let out a slight whimper of pleasure. You lost yourselves in each other for many more precious moments before he pulled away slightly, holding your thighs and folding you into a position with your legs crooked closer to your face. He slipped an errant pillow under your hips, releasing the pressure on your lower back and allowing himself to thrust deeply into you.
Dex had you moaning with his actions, making you squeeze your eyes such. The base of his cock stimulated your clit with each thrust.
“Fucking love this, say my name,” he ordered, gripping your legs tightly and increasing his pace.
“Dex, god you feel so good,” you managed to breathe. He rocked harder, fucking you into a sweet oblivion.
Dex was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, still so turned on by the apparent acceptance of him. God he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Your walls were fluttering around him, the first signs of an orgasm. He peered down letting go of a leg to touch the side of your face. Your eyes opened once more and you met his gaze, again with dilated pupils. Your skin looked radiant. His cock twitched, and he hand he reached down for your throat, squeezing the sides with precise pressure. Nothing to restrict your flow of air, just to send a thrill down your spine and straight to your pussy. It was enough to prompt your orgasm, and you tightened around him. He followed your cries with a moan of his own, spilling himself inside of you once more.
Dex eased your legs down, laying down next to you. He didn't say anything, but pressed a meaningful kiss to your forehead. He laid back, looking up at the ceiling with satisfaction when you nestled into his arms.
“You’ve ruined all other men for me,” you told him, a frank honesty in your voice that had him again letting out another laugh. Dex had seemed to have a supernatural ability to find the parts of your body that craved his touch the most. It made you wonder a little bit, but sleep was slowly carrying away your thoughts.
“Good,” he grinned, pleased his abilities translated to all realms. He pulled a thin sheet over your bodies before reaching to hold your hand. Dex chuckled to himself, and decided to vocalize the last thought that came to him before he too slipped into sleep.
“I aim to please.”