𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 - TMR, Gally ¹

𝟢𝟦𝟣，𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬

CH. FORTY - ONE
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

"Getting jealous because I was—oh—teasing Newt a bit is literally ridiculous. You're ridiculous."

"Yet you're squirming and whimpering all over the bed, woman."

"Well, maybe, but it's still ridiculous," she replies, crossing her arms. He's hovering over her, breaths also heavy, and she looks up. "Get off me."

Mixed emotions wash over his face. "...if you say so. Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes."

With a slight furrow in his eyebrows, he rolls off her, then sits up on the bed.

"You haven't taken your shirt off."

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, yet he doesn't hesitate. "Sure."

Joan takes him in with her eyes. The slight tan from working outside all day. The tensing muscles from carrying and building all day. The veins running down his arms. His toned stomach.

"Lie down."

His head tilts to the side. "I thought I was ridiculous."

"You are. So shut your ridiculous mouth and lie down."

"Why would I, tho—"

She shuts him up by pressing her mouth against his, leaving an annoyed groan in there, and slowly pushing him down on the mattress. The girl moves on top of him, keeping her lips where they are as her hands trail down to his, which are on her waist.

She slides them off there, no matter how bad that feels, and lies them besides his body. "We'll keep them there," she mimics his words.

"I want to touch you," he taunts quietly. "Feel you—"

"You will." But she keeps his hands pressed besides him. Her lips linger around his lips for a little longer, until she moves them over his jaw. Below her, she can feel his chest heave.

Grinning slightly, she kisses her way to behind his ear. His skin is soft against her fast pace. Smooth. Gives her more enjoyment in this. A hum leaves her mouth as she forces herself closer towards him, hips pressing deeper against his.

"Joan..." His attempt to move his head only allows a better reach at his neck, which she continues kissing until her lips are burning. Until her hands have gotten sweaty around Gally's. Until her thighs are squeezing together, and her breaths have heaved to the point where she has to take breaks between kisses. Yet she doesn't stop— it's too good. His skin, smell, the low sounds rising from his throat... everything.

A few minutes after she checked if he's even okay with this, a 'please' leaves his lips. She stops, raising an eyebrow as her breaths blow against his neck.

"Let me move my hands," he murmurs.

She lets go of his hands. Her own are also freed, so she uses them to lower herself. A sharp inhale above her when she kisses his collarbone, and his back is already arching a bit. The annoyed look on his face says enough; he hates how he's so effected by this, and she loves it.

Tingles run over her spine and basically her whole body as she lowers herself even more, kissing his stomach. Running her lips over his skin—muscles—and fingers over his sides. She looks up once she has reached his v-line. For a few seconds, he's able to hold eye contact, then he throws his head back.

Before his hips can buckle up, she has pushed them down. Inches back up, meeting his face, and kisses him on the mouth. His hands go from her lower back to the sides of her shirt. He takes it off her, tossing it somewhere on the ground, eyes only fixated on hers.