Feather

Fifteen {The Party, Pt. 3}

It had been a couple of hours since the five of them had gone to Peyton's bedroom, they were more relaxed, and everyone had taken off their jackets as the room felt hotter the more they drank. All the bottles of champagne were emptied, and Ashton and Luke had recently come back with four new ones. Now, Luke was telling Michael about the robots he has built, just as a hobby, while Calum was laying under Peyton's desk as she and Ashton spoke quietly on the couch.

She didn't notice that Michael wasn't paying any attention at all to what Luke was saying, neither did he as he talked excitedly about his inventions. Michael sat with his back against the headboard, his lips pressed together tightly, and his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't control the jealously that was burning in his gut, and it was beginning to make him feel sick.

He swiftly excused himself to the bathroom, hearing the the party downstairs had become more lively, he assumed from people drinking more, and he quickly shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath, and moving to the sink to splash some water on his face. Suddenly, he heard the door close again, and the lock click, looking up at Peyton through the mirror.

"Are you feeling okay?" She looked at him in concern, going over to him, and running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine," He said nonchalantly, dabbing at his face with a towel, "you and Ashton seem to be getting on pretty well," and Peyton giggled lightly, "what's so funny? I mean I get it, you're from the same world and stuff."

"Are you jealous, Michael?" He didn't say anything, just putting the towel back in it's place, "you know you have no reason to be," she turned him to face her, "I'm happy with us."

"Yeah, friends with benefits that just get each other off because they like it the same way." He said sadly, looking down with a pout.

"I'd like to think it's more than that." She laughed.

"But it isn't, is it?" He said quietly.

"Well, then let's change that." she smiled, placing her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her, and kissing his lips sweetly.

He kissed back slowly, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. Peyton ran her hands down his chest, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, "what are you doing?" He mumbled against her lips.

"You said you wanted to make me scream... so make me scream." She tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth, and that was enough to drive Michael crazy.

He kissed her roughly, pushing his tongue between her lips, making her moan. She tugged off his shirt, running her hands all over his back and chest, eyes closed as she felt him pulling at the back of her corset. Michael managed to pry himself from her, and shoved her to the sink so she could face the mirror, him standing behind her.

Quickly, he unzipped her corset, throwing it to the floor. He ran his nails down her back, and smiled as she groaned, letting her head hang down. Michael kissed her shoulder, then tenderly pressed more down her back, moving his hands forward and undoing her pants, dropping them to her ankles before licking slowly up her spine.

"Are you going to scream for me, baby?" He whispered into her ear, grinding against her. Peyton nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder, kissing his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her, running his hands up her stomach, grabbing her breasts, and pulling at her nipples, causing her to moan, "fuck, I love hearing that sound." He breathed out.

Peyton kicked away her pants, spreading her legs, and pushing her bum back as she rested her elbows on the counter. Michael bit his lip, looking her up and down, standing to the side slightly as he ran his right hand down her back, and then caressed her cheek. She wiggled her bum slightly, looking back at him, and giggling. He roughly grabbed her hair with his free hand, making her moan again as her eyes fluttered shut.

Without warning Michael raised his hand, hitting her right cheek, and she hummed in contentment, he raised his hand again, spanking her harder, and he felt himself harden at the way her lips opened, a small whimper escaping from them. He continued to spank her, pulling her hair tighter, her moans just getting louder, "shit, you're going to make me come just from your moans." He stopped, resting his sweat ridden head on her back, and squeezing her bum.

Peyton reached her hand out, expertly undoing his pants, pulling them down with his boxers just enough to pull out his hard on, rubbing it fast and tight, making him groan, "don't stop, baby. I'm so fucking ready." She told him, kissing his shoulder.

"Well then, you'd better start screaming." Michael growled in her ear.

He pushed down her underwear so he could see how red she was, and it looked so good as he rubbed the hot skin. Michael started spanking her again, going harder so that it was pushing her forward, and she had to let go of him to hold on to the sink, her knuckles going white with the tight grip. Each slap made her louder, her eyes shut tight as she almost sobbed but she loved it.

Michael pulled on her hair so her head was back, "open your eyes, I want you to watch." Peyton opened them, looking into to mirror seeing his hand raised behind her before swiftly coming down and hitting her, full force, it made her finally scream, and it was music to his ears but he couldn't risk them being caught, so he put his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, and just that action made her moan, grabbing at his arm with her left hand.

He carried on spanking her, tears now freely running down her cheeks, and he thought she looked even more beautiful than she did that day when they came back from getting his suit. Michael bit his lip, running his hand down between her legs, feeling how wet she was. He looked into the mirror, his eyes locking with hers as he raised his hand, and licked his fingers clean, an evil smirk on his face.

Then one final time, Michael spanked Peyton, using all the force he had left, and she screamed out a 'fuck' into his hand, her eyes closed tightly as she came, her legs giving out, and she fell against the counter. He moaned loudly, moving behind her as he jerked himself off quickly, coming over her back with a groan before collapsing on top of her, and they both slid to the floor, completely exhausted.

"Holy fuck." Peyton giggled.

"Yeah." Michael panted heavily.

"I really want to turn over and hold you, but I'm so fucking tired." She told him.

He took her hand in his, entwining their fingers, "how's this?" He asked, looking at her.

"Perfect," she smiled at him, "merry Christmas, baby."

"Move in with me." Michael said suddenly.

Peyton didn't even have to think about it when she replied, "okay."

Michael grinned happily, "I really want to kiss you right now but I can't move." He laughed tiredly.

"Don't worry about it," she chuckled lightly, tapping his stomach sweetly with her right hand, "we have time."

They laid there for almost an hour before both of them finally had the energy to move, cleaning themselves and the bathroom, and getting dressed. The party was still going strong downstairs as they walked back to Peyton's room, hand in hand.

Michael opened the door for her, only for the three guys that were inside to applaud and cheer them loudly. Peyton giggled with a blush, hiding her face in his chest. This was definitely the best Christmas party she had ever been to.