Love Under the Western Skies

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ
*ꜱᴍᴜᴛ*

➵➵➵➵➵➵➵❂➵➵➵➵➵➵➵

God damn does Madison feel good in my hands.

We're still standing in the center of the room, her hands running through my hair as I kiss down her neck, "Steve," her breathy voice makes me bite down on the juncture of her throat, catching her when she arches into my body further, "fuck," she's basically vibrating in my hands, shivering as I run my tongue over the bite mark, not enough to hurt her, but she seems to like the kick of it, her nails scraped against my scalp, and if my dick wasn't ready to burst out of my pants already, the way she moaned would've made it painful.

"Gorgeous," I whispered, trailing my mouth up from her clavicle to her lips, taking my hat off her head and tossing it off the desk, her mouth instantly claiming mine again, her fingers working the buttons of my shirt, one by one she got them undone before shoving it off my shoulders. There was a sense of urgency, and I was home, I'd tell her not to rush, we could take it slow, but now, with her best friend across the hall and my best friends with my son, we'd have to make quick work of the time we did have.

"Baby," I breathed when I finally pulled the shirt over her head, taking in the full scope of her body, she was fucking beautiful, lace covered her body, and I swear to god I was never going to be able to keep my hands off her, not now that I know what she looks like under those clothes, "if we were home, I'd be taking you apart for hours."

"I don't care," Madison's mouth crashed on mine again, her hands between us to make quick work of my belt, the buckle clanging to the ground when she ripped it free of my pants, "I need to be fucked," her words made me groan against her mouth, "fast, hard, I don't care, I need you to do it for me."

"Noted," I shoved her back onto the bed, her blonde hair fanning out across the comforter, and I was fucking thrilled I hadn't taken out any of Rhett's items, because I might have felt guilty, not enough to not devour the woman in front of me, but I might have hesitated. The button on her jeans popped open quickly, and I yanked the tight material down her legs, throwing them over my shoulder. I slid my hands up from her ankles, running over the raised flash over a scar, tearing my eyes from the way Madison's chest rose and fell, I looked at the three-inch scar that ran down her knee. "What happened?"

She went to close her legs, but I kept them wide open. "Surgery," she whispered, "I know it's ugly, you can cover it with the sheets."

I leaned down, running my tongue over the skin, kissing the scar, and watching the way goosebumps shot up her leg. "I don't know what people told you before," I leaned back on my heels, shucking my jeans off and tossing them on the ever-growing pile of clothing on the floor, "and quite frankly, I don't care what they told you," I moved so I was caging her against the mattress, her eyes bouncing around my face when I leaned down, kissing her once more, this time with less urgency and more passion, "But don't ever be ashamed of something you can't control," her eyes dropped down to where I lightly touched the scar, "You're a fucking warrior Madison, I know that much."

When she looked back up at me I saw the flash of fear in her eyes, "I don't want you to stop being around me after this," She whispered, "I'm not like the others you've been with, I don't do well with people going away."

I slid my fingers into her waistband, running them across her wet slit, "Baby," I moved the pressure from my wrist to my elbow, "your daddy would have to kill me to keep me away from you."

Her face scrunched up, before she let out a moan when I slid my finger into her wet tunnel, "Please don't talk about my Dad when you have your finger in me."