Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

No One But Us

The condo was dark when we finally drove in. There was a lot of paperwork involved when buying a house, but Lesia told me that our process would go much faster since James was paying in cash. I'd choked when she told me that and James had patted my back. When I'd recovered, we had an inch thick document to sign. Still, now matter how quickly we signed the paperwork, it took us a solid two hours before we could leave. As we pulled into the driveway, James flipped off the headlights and reached for my hand, pulling me across the console when I would have opened the door, and grasped my neck.

"I love you, Lyric," he whispered before pressing his lips to mine.

I scooted across the seat, leaning as far across as I could, nearly in his lap. James had been so solicitous of me, he had held me at night, kissed me, but we hadn't made love. I had been intimate with Kell and Taylor, usually when no one else was around. It was new and special, and with my hormones going wild, very much desired.

But James, while considerate and affectionate, hadn't seemed to want to progress to that level. I didn't push, and when I tried to ask, he had changed the subject. I was trying to talk about things more, having a baby, being a parent, made me step out of my comfort zone, and initiate awkward conversations. I would ask James to sleep with me, to hold me, but I hadn't been able to make myself say the words; "Do you think I'm ugly?" "Do you not want me anymore?"

This kiss felt different, not just because he wasn't being gentle, and he was not solicitous, but because it felt like a jump off a cliff, a free fall into the ocean water.

He controlled the kiss. When I tentatively touched his lips with my tongue, he plundered my mouth, scraping his tongue against my teeth, moaning into my mouth, stealing my breath.

"I want you, Lyric."

"What have you been waiting for?" I gasped.

He pulled back, and his eyes darkened. He jumped out of the car and came around to my side of the car, yanking it open and helping me out. He ran to the door, unlocking it and pulling me inside.

We didn't even make it up the steps.

As soon as the door closed he lifted me up, pressing me into the wall and devouring my mouth again. I threaded my fingers through his hair, keeping his head still so I could rain kisses over his face. He jerked back, staring at me, before lowering his mouth to mine again.

"I don't know what I'm doing Lyric," he whispered.

Oh.

I pulled back, smoothing his hair away from his face, studying it before lowering my mouth to his. I lowered my hands to my shirt, and began to grasp the edges. James drew back, pinning me, before lifting it and throwing it over his shoulder. His hands held my waist, traveling up my spine.

He spun away from the wall, taking long strides forward until he could deposit me on the couch. His hands went to my waist, looking for a button. He looked down in confusion.

I realized what he was seeing, my high-waisted, elastic banded maternity jeans. I often went to bed in a pair of Taylor's boxer briefs and one of the guys' shirts, but since I'd gotten larger, they hadn't seen my maternity underclothes.

Sports bra.

Giant maternity briefs.

It was like he could read my mind.

"You're beautiful," he said, lowering his head and pulling back the elastic to land a kiss on my stomach.

I snorted, but cut the sound off as he slid my pants down my thighs, grasping my underwear at the same time. I sat up, pulling at his shirt as soon as he was within reach. He helped me, his skin almost luminescent in the dark room. He covered me with his body, and I felt every inch of him against me.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

I shook my head back and forth. "Not at all," I whispered. "You couldn't."


He moved along the back of the couch, staring at my body and running his hand up and down my stomach, along my breasts, and back over to my hip.

"When I first saw you," he whispered, "covered in mud and leaves next to the road, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."


"It was dark."


"I could see," he answered smiling. "Your eyes were shining, and you were trying so hard to be brave. I couldn't decide whether to scoop you up or chase down the assholes who'd knocked you over."


"I'm glad you decided to scoop."


He nodded, his hand moving to my cheek. He leaned down, kissing me softly, his tongue dueling with mine.

"Everyday," he whispered against my lips, "I wake up, and I'm equal parts terrified and excited."

I pressed my head back into the couch. "Jamie," I breathed, seeing the torment in his eyes.

He shut them tightly. "You're mine, Lyric," he said. "I don't deserve you, but you're mine."


"Jamie," I whispered. "Look at me."

He did, and I pulled his face down to mine. I pulled him on top of me, spreading my legs to make room for him before wrapping them around his hips. I felt his erection press into me, sliding through my folds.

James sucked in a breath.

"I'm yours," I said. "Forever. We have something that is unique and..." I thought about it. "Fated. I was meant to be yours. But you were meant for me, too."


I felt him pull back, his tip just resting at the entrance to my body.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

I nodded, grasping his hips in my hands. He studied me, not moving. I arched into him, a silent plea for him to move. He lowered his forehead to mine and slowly thrust into me. He slid inside, like he was always meant to be there. We were always meant to be this way. He held himself there, his breathing harsh in my ear, his body wrapped around mine.

I could feel a fire building inside me, just having him there, pressing into me, was lighting up nerve endings. He pulled out, the drag of his skin against mine making me arch and gasp, and then he slid home again. This time with more force, his hips rubbing against me with each pump. He did it again. And again. Until I was sweating, and writhing, and begging for him to move faster, harder, more. He listened, and he adjusted. His fingers stroked me, his lips worshipped me.

"Lyric," he panted, his voice deep.

I heard myself cry out, and then felt the warmth of his release spread through me, soothing me from the inside. He continued to thrust, just a small rocking movement that kept me trembling and shivering with aftershocks. I kissed his neck, his ear, any part of him that I could reach.

"Jamie," I whispered.

"Lyric," he replied. "You're it for me."


I smiled. "You're it for me."