Old Money ꔫ JJ Maybank

five

Harlow could've never expected that she'd end up letting JJ Maybank take her upstairs. He shut the door behind them, turning the lock, then resumed with kissing her with passion he never even knew he had in him.

He backed her up until she hit the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath her weight as she tumbled back. JJ hovered over her, his eyes dark and blazing with an intensity she wasn't sure how to handle. There was something different about this kiss, this touch. It wasn't like any of the times before when she'd kissed boys to forget, to fill a void, to achieve something. This was real. And that scared the hell out of her.

"You sure you want this?" JJ asked, his breath hot against her ear, his voice low and rough.

"Why are you still talking?" Harlow shot back, her tone dripping with frustration as she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again. She didn't want to be questioned now, she never did.

JJ's hands slipped under her dress, fingers tracing the curves of her thighs, dragging the latex up higher until it bunched around her hips. Harlow gasped against his mouth when his touch became bolder, sending a shiver racing down her spine. She didn't stop him when he lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bed.

Their movements were frantic, feverish. Clothes were stripped away with a mix of clumsy hands and breathless laughter. Something was making
Harlow unusually anxious, like some sort of bad feeling, but she ignored it, losing herself in the way JJ's skin felt hot against hers, the way his mouth moved down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

When he finally had her beneath him on the bed, there was a pause, just a fraction of a second where his eyes searched hers. But Harlow wasn't about to let him second-guess this. She grabbed his face, pulling him into another searing kiss, her hips arching up to meet his.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

JJ groaned as he thrust into her, and Harlow's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as she clung to him, her nails dragging down his back, probably leaving scratch marks. For once, she wasn't thinking about how this might end, or about what tomorrow would look like. She was lost in the heat of the moment, in the feel of his body against hers, in the way he moved inside her, fast and desperate like he was afraid she'd vanish if he let up for even a second.

"Fuck." Harlow's breaths came in quick, ragged gasps as she hooked her legs around JJ's waist, drawing him even closer, deeper. It was raw and unfiltered, the kind of connection she never allowed herself to crave. Pathetically human.

JJ's hands roamed over her, as if he couldn't get enough of her soft curves beneath his fingertips. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her, tearing moans from her lips that she didn't even try to stifle. She didn't care right now what he or any partygoer outside the locked door might think.

JJ was relentless, the room filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the bed creaking with every movement, like it was barely holding together under the intensity of it all.

For JJ, it was more than just the physical sensation— which was all this usually was to him— there was something important about the way Harlow surrendered to him, the usual fire in her eyes mixed with something almost vulnerable for once. He couldn't stop himself from kissing her again, devouring her mouth like he was starving, like she was the only thing that could satiate him.

JJ's lips moved down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving hickeys she usually wouldn't allow to happen. "God, Harlow," he muttered, voice thick with need, like he was just as lost in this as she was. Each thrust was harder, deeper, his body demanding more from her as if he couldn't get close enough. She let him take her, use her, because she needed this. Not jsut from anybody, from him.