Desperate Anchors

finding his way home

After two long days in Italy, all Kerem could think about was home. Home being her warmth, her soft breathing, her intoxicating scent, the harbor of her limbs, and the way her body contoured with his.

He's instantly jolted by the force of her hug the moment they see each other. They're more careful about being captured this time, in constant practice for the new game of escape-the-paparazzi. This time, they'd beat the imaginary level with help of the airport staff, escaping out a side exit.

She's engulfed by him instantly, luggage discarded to the side with his entire focus on re-introducing himself even if nothing of them could ever be forgotten. His pulse instantly softens yet quickens, his breathing growing deep into his chest. Every tension settles into his subconscious as a distant memory.

His Hande. His home.

She pulls away, letting him take her in and get a better look at her. Every outfit she wore like a wrapped present for him to unwrap.

Her fashion was hers alone. Her decision, her choice. But damned if she didn't know the perfect ones he'd appreciate just as much. White short and summery top, tiny pale pink skirt, and a mini jacket in a pale denim blue. All easy access and impossibly flirty. Her hair is piled high in a messy bun, the kind he aches to let free.

He pushes his car to the limit to get her home.

Hours of meeting supporters and hundreds of strangers needing his attention should have left him touched out. He loved the excitement; he appreciated it. He thanked the universe for it. But he is drained. He'd met his limit while he was gone but the limits never applied to her.

His bags come inside, quickly dumped by the door as he pulls her back into his arms and meets her with an open and hungry mouth.

In the safety of her pink house, their shared home, he can take full refuge in her arms. He erases all space, pulling her tightly into his body and envelops her closer still.

He pulls her toward the first flat surface he can find, a large settee they often use for various recreation. He yanks off her jacket, steady purpose rather than haste. His plans are to fully appreciate every second of his time with her. Along with every inch.

His shirt comes next in smooth motion as he works his lips on the column of her neck and his fingers on the buttons of her little top. Her pulse point vibrates under his lips and he widens his mouth to take more until he feels the vibrato of her moan.

She helps him with his pants zipper and he yanks her skirt over her hips with a shimmy of them that nearly drives him mad. He's losing his underwear, sinking into the flat surface of the settee and pulling her panties down. The legs of the bench make his face nearly level with her pubis and he grabs her hips to position her closer so his tongue can taste between her lips.

He has to bend his neck to reach but instantly gets her aroused aroma before his tongue dips between her folds. She's slick against his tongue and he groans into the knowledge. She shifts her legs, lifting one to rest a foot on one side of his thigh while she looks down at him, pleading.

How he knows this woman. How to make her beg, how to make her whimper, the different ways his body could extract her calling out his name alongside the naughty word she only gave to him.

Fuck he needs to be buried in her depths, feeling her tight walls clench against him as she lets his favorite words escape.

Fuck, Kerem. Fuuuuuck.

He coaxes her other knee to rest beside him, until she's straddling his lap. He shifts them further back, awkwardly until they're well settled. He wants them positioned so he can quickly flip her if wanted. She widens her thighs, scooting closer until they're nearly flush. He reaches between their legs, grabbing his half-awake cock, rubbing it between her lips. He slips it back to front several times, coating his head in her juices and bumping it against her clit.

Her lips fall apart, her breath becoming shallow. He's pulsing and hard at the sight of her, the feel of being so close to where he ached to get engulfed.

He slips it back, letting the head press against her opening, watching her lips jump with a sharp intake of sudden breath.

Her hooded eyes lock on his, his hand splayed extra low on her back as he commands her down until he's fully engulfed in one motion. She cries out at the intrusion, her head dropping back as she adjusts to the feeling.

God she's fucking gorgeous filled this way. He can hardly believe this is real. That she begs for him. That she wants all of him, even this part.

He's consumed. By all of her, by her beauty, by her want. And the perfect heat of her tight pussy. She wraps her arms around him, raising herself slowly and dropping down on him until she gasps, then repeats the same again and again.

This is everything he needed. Loved by her, enveloped by her, every stressor, every bit of effort from being in the world at wide melting away in her surrender with him.

She pulls back, looking at him. Love and need in her eyes. Her breasts bounce slightly with her ride of him, steady, slow up, and rushed down, begging to be taken by his mouth. He groans as his jaws drops to suck in a nipple, groaning into the taste of her skin and the hardness of her taut areola. He nibbles it, her spine bending to press it closer to his mouth.

Her fingers fiddle with his bun and his hair feathers out, sticking a bit to the sweat that had built on his forehead. She threads her fingers into his strands, running them through and then gripping tight when he sucks harder.

Fuck anyone that didn't like his hair long. She loved it, and he loved her playing with it, tugging it, gripping it tight like her own personal silent signal to tell him what she liked and how much.

His entire groin aches for speed, for roughness, but his soul doesn't want to let go of that moment. Them, linked tighter than any handcuffs, connected at a level he craved every moment they were apart. He envelopes her, their naked chests molding, muscles contracting against the glistening softness of her working her hips to him. He grips her waist, not able to hold back needing a couple of extra deep thrusts. Her quick cries make his soul lose out.

When he lowers her, she doesn't protest. He coaxes her legs over his shoulders to angle himself the way she likes. He kisses her, swallowing her sounds in his open mouth as he fills her.

She grasps his back, nails digging in, desperate to get him impossibly closer. It forces her limber legs back impossibly far, his pelvic bone grinding against her clit as he works to drive her closer.

His pleasure relieves his physical ache. Minutes is all it lasts. Hers did so much more. It filled his soul, the ache deep inside that sought life fulfillment. His tickets to keep coming earning this fucking oasis her existence in his world created.

"Kerem..."

Hande. His beautiful Handemiy.

She was so close, so beautifully close. Her thighs grew weaker, shaking, her cheeks flushed his favorite shade of pink. A bite of her lips makes his stomach grip.

"Tell me, baby."

Her eyes close, then hood further while watching him. "I'm so close," she lets out in a breath.

He kisses her, rolling between his fingers until she cries out.

"Fuck, oh fuck. Kerem..."

Her cries of ecstasy grip him as hard as her inner walls, draining everything he holds only for her. Where she'd waited for his return in the only place he belonged.

They pant, faces side-by-side; recovering. His thumbs brush her now-loose hair from her temples. He feels her chest rise and fall against him, settling from the high.

The shyness on her face returns as it often does after, the transition from desperate temptress to his sweet Amanim. Vulnerable together, nude and connected, every passion in them spent in the moment it took them to return to the world.

They shift, lying side-by-side, taking up the space of one while they tangle in each other's limbs.

Home. Safe. Having returned to their life anchor. Their love.

Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoyed it. This was my first fic in the Hanker/Edser world so please let me know what you think. Maybe it will inspire more. ;)