Stay (Punk Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 20

*warning this is mature. I didn't do a censored version this time, but if you would prefer me to put up a censored version, send me a message and I'll try to post one. Otherwise enjoy and pls read the author's note at the end*

His lips move against mine with a sure certainty, like there's nothing he'd rather be doing right now.

I'm not cold anymore, my body on fire from the heat of his hands against my neck, tangling through my hair. A strand of curls catches against his ring, but the pain of the tug is nothing compared to the way his chapped lips touch my skin, softly, slowly, agonizingly.

"Luke," His name is the only thing I can think to say when we finally break for air. My voice is as breathless as I feel, completely gone for him.

"God, I've missed you, I've missed kissing you, fighting with you, being near you," Luke breathes out, pulling me closer.

Desperate for contact, I'm suddenly on his lap, hands resting on his chest. His heart is beating just as fast as mine is beneath my fingers. It reassures me this is where I'm supposed to be.

His lips are on mine again, feverishly engulfing me.

There's no room to breathe when we're this close, but we're still not close enough. His shirts gone, my hands getting rid of it as fast as I can. His skin feels hotter than I can handle, but I want to be burned. I want Luke seared into me.

I let him in further, needing more of him. He's everywhere, kissing my neck, my cheeks, my collarbones.

Pain follows his lips, small bruises already forming as he marks me.

Staying still isn't an option anymore, my hips moving against him of their own accord. Every inch of space between us is too much.

"Andy," I shudder at the feel of his lips against the shell of my ear, "I want to make you feel good."

Punctuating his words, his hands, big and calloused and warm, slide under my shirt, up my back, over my ribs, over and under my bra. My back arches against him.

"Luke, I just want you," my words are stuttered and sporadic, but he hears them. He always hears me.

His hands remove the jacket of his I was still wearing, sliding it off with shoulders with small, feather light movements that just drive me crazier.

Lifting me off of him, the loss of contact feels like I've suddenly lost a part of myself. But it doesn't last long.

Deliberately, Luke spreads his jacket out across the sand, movements sure but the shaking in his hands betraying his need. Before I can really process what we're doing, he's laying me down across the jacket, and I'm glad for his broad shoulders and long body. The big jacket was soft against my skin, smelling like him, keeping the sand away from my body as best as could be expected.

Luke kneels down between my legs, forcing me to look up at him.