Vox: A FanFic/X-Reader

Chapter Six

"Pick one—B, D, S, or M?" he asks.

"Tough. You know the letters don't have one meaning, right?"

"Okay, so pick the word."

"Think I'll go with S for Switch 'cause it all sounds fun. You?"

"S for secret. But I might show you."

"I'm good with secrets."

"Did you mean it? About not wanting us to be temporary?"

"I won't get too clingy... I just meant—" I say, but he interrupts.

"I love that you don't keep me guessing where I stand. You don't do mind games, do you? You said, 'I'm okay with friends, but I want more.'"

"I did say that," I nod and agree.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"I mean—what do you want me to say? This feels like a trap!" I laugh it off, but anxiety spikes.

"Hey," he says, cupping my face. "Be honest."

"If I can choose—yes, I want more, but I can slow my roll. I didn't mean to say all that and freak you out."

"If you still want more when we leave, let's do it."

"I won't change my mind," I reassure him.

"Let's see, then."

He rolls on top of me. My breath hitches. His thumb traces under my eyebrow to my temple. Fingers drag down my neck and pause around my throat. He tightens his hold and my eyes close. Moving lower, he teases my nipples, licking and sucking them to sharp points. He adds teeth, biting one and then the other.

My leg drapes around his hip. My core tightens and I roll my hips into him. His hand pushes my thigh up beside my head. He repeats with the other leg and backs up to look. It causes more involuntary contractions that he watches. 

I cover my face because I know what he sees. I'm drenched. He pulls my hands away, kissing each palm and pushing them down on my stomach.

"Your body is as responsive to me as mine is to you. You don't hide from me. You don't resist." The way he stares at me undoes me—the way his eyes narrow and his tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

Fingers drag through my center and then slide inside me. I tighten around them, moaning. He captures my mouth with his. When he gets to my clit, my body spasms. Breaths shudder from my lungs and I tremble under his touch. He moves so achingly slow, I want—need—more pressure. It's torturous.

He guides his cock through my wetness, sliding the head around my clit. "Tell me when," he orders.

"Now," I say without knowing what he's asking.

He slams into me and even though he holds my thighs, I come off the bed.

"Fuuuuck," I understate. "You could have warned me."

He chuckles and continues the slow tempo that was making me crazy moments ago. I try to speed him up because his slow, deep thrusts keep me on the edge and I'm ready to fall over. He lets one leg go and then the other, resting his elbows beside my face.

"Faster, please," I beg.

"No." My legs wrap around his hips trying to force him faster, but he keeps his pace. I try to roll us to get on top, but he won't let me. "Easy," he says, circling his hand around my throat.

I calm. It's magic. He's magic.

"You're going to fuck me into a coma."

"Do you mind? Want me to stop?"

"Hell no. If I pass out, keep going. Fuck me back to life."

"Sleep sex is a go then?"

"Absofuckinglutely. I'm down for whatever, as long as it's done with affection," I repeat.

"Me too." He hits the spot again and I can't hide it. He does it again and pauses, catching on. "We'll come back to that," he says and kisses my nose.

"Let's do that now," I insist, trying to rewrap my legs around him, but he's changed positions. "You're evil. Some sort of succubus."

"Incubus," he corrects.

"Sex demon, feeding off my lust." No wonder he has abs the way he moves.

"Next time you can drive."

"Hell yes." My body is shaking and I know I'm going to come soon. I feel it in the warmth spreading through my system.

My hands run through his hair and down his shoulders to his elbows. I wrap my hands around his. Our bodies sync up and he studies me. "I'm close," I say.

"I know," he smirks.

"Incubus."

"Sucubus."

"You said—"

"I meant you."

It's a temporary distraction, but we don't lose momentum. Long, deep thrusts begin again. My breathing changes and he lets go of one of my hands and puts his around my throat. It reminds me to breathe normally. He lets go of the other hand and pinches each of my nipples. It's almost enough, but I need pressure. Fingers trail down my abdomen. He slides them through my slit but doesn't move the way or where I want him to. His grin lets me know it's intentional. So much payback goes through my mind until he pinches my clit, but this time it's in slow-motion. It must be his signature move. He holds it between his fingers and we both still for a moment.

"Too much?"

"No."

He applies more pressure and when it gets to be too much, he lets go before I can tell him. Maybe he just knows, or maybe I telegraphed it. I don't have time to ponder it because all the air whooshes out of my lungs. I gasp for breath; his hand on my throat reminds me to breathe while I can. I buck into him, my muscles contracting around him. He breathes evenly in and out through his nose and I'm reminded to do the same. I know the minute I drag him with me because his body seizes. My hand palms his cheek; I want to watch his eyes. He pulls his lips over his teeth and rides it out, petting my face with his thumbs. 

When his body slumps into mine, we roll slightly laying face to face. He presses a kiss to my forehead and then rests his against mine where he kissed me.

As slow as we were going, I don't know how we got sweaty. He brushes the hair away from my forehead and slides me up and into his arms. Hands and lips, even knees and feet, slide against one another. It's comforting and reassuring, holding onto and touching like this after sex. Normally, I'd be happy to just have a nap.

Eventually, we do nap. We wake up a few times because neither of us keeps our hands to ourselves. 

I think I finally understand the term "heavy petting."