TWENTY-FIVE

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a/n: before we begin, please
 make sure to check out my new chris evans
imagines if you haven't already!
<3 now let's commence.

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smut.

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"God, you're driving me crazy."

It's the last thing he groans before his lips crash onto mine again, his grip around my waist tightens. When he gets up, taking me with him, my legs angling around his body, he does it like I weigh nothing. With ease, he carries me to the door, slides it open, and steps inside. He just carried me. With one hand. Without taking his lips off of mine. 

He presses me against a free wall, my hands are in his hair, our tongues in each other's mouths. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. He leans back slightly and unzips the hoodie with one swift move. Before I know it, I am topless, the grey jacket on the floor.

I moan when his lips find my neck, nibble on the sensitive skin, my jawline, down to my collarbone. His hands slide up and down the side of my waist, almost teasingly not even brushing by my breasts. 

"We're lucky we don't have neighbors here," I choke out, and he pulls away, only to look at me with a wicked grin. 

"How lucky," he says, his voice low and raspy, dripping from desire. And it's driving me crazy. Makes two of us.

I'm no longer pressed up against the wall. He carries me a few feet over to the kitchen island. My butt hits the edge, and then I sit on the dark countertop, with him standing in between my thighs. 

"Do you even have any idea how difficult it was to quietly sleep next to you every night when all I dreamed about was this?"

I shudder when his lips leave a trail from my lips down to my breasts. His tongue flicks across their most sensitive spot way too briefly, and yet, I moan frantically. What he has just said was all I needed to know fully that I've never been so attracted to someone in my entire life. 

"So responsive to me," he whispers almost inaudibly, and I gulp when he gently bites down on one nipple. Heat pools between my legs, and I'm quite close to desperately begging him to take my pants off. 

But I don't have to. His fingers hook underneath the waistband of my black sweats and nudge it down. I instantly react by clenching my legs around his waist, my hands holding onto his shoulders as I lift my butt up a few inches for a moment. Then, my pants — along with my thin, lacy panties — are on the floor as well, leaving me utterly naked in the kitchen while he is still fully clothed. Unfair.

I suck in air between clenched teeth as my bare butt hits the cold countertop. It contrasts the pulsating heat between my legs that aches to be touched as of now. 

"What about you?" I ask hoarsely, letting my hands slide under his tee. He inhales deeply at the contact of my skin with his, and I feel the muscles flex as I slowly slide the shirt up, eventually tousling his hair even more while pulling it over his head. His lips crash onto mine with such vigor I'm afraid I will pass out from the intensity. I don't ever want this to end.

"Better?" he breathes against my lips, and I hear the zipper of his pants being pulled down. I nod faintly, biting my lower lip.

"Almost there," I grin smugly, sliding some of the loose strands of hair behind my shoulders while he gets rid of his pants and underwear. All of our clothes are in one pile on the tiled floor. Outside, birds are screeching, the wind sways the trees. In here, the air is sizzling with lust, and the sheer way he looks at me makes the tension between my thighs unbearable. 

"Perfect," I chuckle at the sight of his naked body. His hands find my lower back and slide me to the edge of the counter. Turns out, this kitchen island has the perfect height. Fate, basically. As if it was made for this instead of cooking.

But he doesn't do anything. He just remains in his position, his groin close but yet so far away from mine, and I pant heavily while glancing down, then up again, a questioning look on my face.

"Seb?"

His eyes meet mine, pupils dilated to a maximum. I know he wants this right now. Then why not do it?

"What do you want me to do now?" he asks deeply. I inhale deeply. Now I know why. He wants me to beg. 

His jaw clenches, his gaze flicks over my face, then roams over my naked body which is now covered in goosebumps. The tension in my lower stomach fires up when his fingers on my waist dig into my soft skin as his grip tightens. I don't reply, partly because I'm so turned on I'm not sure I could form a sentence.

"What do you want me to do now?" he repeats, his voice lower and hoarse. "Say it."

"Fuck me. Please, " I finally breathe, almost inaudibly, and of course, that was exactly what he wanted to hear. I close my eyes, his forehead presses against mine. Our breaths mingle, and we both let out deep groans from the back of my throat when he lets his hips thrust forward. I instantly angle my legs around him again, heavily breathing. My hands are in his hair, grasping onto the brown locks like my life was depending on it. 

"Shit," I let out between clutch teeth. My back is arching, making my breasts press against his buff chest. His hands on my waist hold me steady as he moves against me, building up the tension within me. Desperately, I cry out his name in a moan. 

Then, a nip at my earlobe, his hot breath hitting the soft spot behind my ear. I have my eyes squinted shut at the incredible sensation. I can't believe I went an entire week without this. And a lifetime before that.

"You feel so damn good," he whispers in a raspy sigh, and I moan in response, letting my hands roam around his shoulders and back now. 

"Charlotte," I then hear him moan my name ever so lowly right into my ear. His voice buzzes against my eardrums and drives me insane. I feel the tension within me become unbearable. His movements leave me gasping every now and then, making me feel like he backed away before thrusting against me vigorously. I know I'm close.

"Oh, God, please," I cry out between moans, feeling my entire body tense up. His hands slide up to my shoulder blades, pulling me closer to him. I imagine even being able to feel his rapid heartbeat against my chest. My face is buried in the crook of his neck, his lips are still brushing against my earlobe. I continue to groan frantically, his name escaping my mouth every now and then. The proximity, the names we moan, the way we hold each other close right now — it feels more intimate than ever.

"Please, don't stop," I groan from the back of my throat, and it motivates him to pick up the pace. The sound of his skin meeting mine finds a new rhythm, and I love it. "Yes, please—"

And then, shockwaves ripple through my body, making my legs tingle and my throat go dry. An animalistic, ecstatic moan is muffled by the hot skin of his neck I press my agape lips against. He slows down but doesn't stop. My legs begin to quiver faintly.

"Damn, Charlotte," he lets out, and then, his release washes over him only mere seconds after mine. He gently bites my earlobe, then places pecks on my jawline and neck. 

"You left me addicted last week," he pants, completely out of breath as he pulls away. Our eyes meet and he sees my exhausted smile before he adds in a whisper,

"I don't think I could ever go another week without you."

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