Only Love (Nick Jonas One-Shot)

It’s the touch of expert fingertips fluttering over every inch of you, except where you need it most, that steals your breath. It’s the sound of teasing laughter, the feel of it ghosting along your cheek, that has you fisting the sheets and pulling mumbled curses past your lips. It’s the feel of her body, unreal in all her naked beauty, hovering so close to your own that makes you feel so unbearably alive. It’s too much. Never enough.

Lips scorch a line of fire along your neck and suddenly you’re suffocating, the flames stealing every last ounce of oxygen from your lungs. Your eyes are closed, might never open again, but you’re aware – in some dark corner of your mind – that she is watching you. Calculating your every minute movement. And it has taken so long to get here, and you’ve overcome so many things to reach this point, that you know you’d do the same if your positions were reversed. That you will do the same, when they are. Then her mouth finds yours and she’s breathing life back into you, urging you to live with every press of her tongue. And you think, for one eternal moment, that you might drown.

"(Y/N)." He calls your name to pull you back, but you’re already too far gone. Your lips burn from his assault, dominating and tender, and you know that there’s no hope for you now. He has you, all of you. And he hasn’t even taken you yet. You dig your heels into the mattress and bend your knees with no real thought towards your actions, but he settles between your legs like he belongs there and that tugs the coil of desire lurking at the pit of your stomach ever tighter.

"Please." And you don’t beg, you’ve never begged. You’ve been left by lovers,you never thought yourself capable of forgiving betrayal, of loving again, of believing in the utterly impossible and yet here you are. Caught by all those things and so many more, and you’re helpless. And desperate. And pleading.

"Tell me," he whispered words are like wine, rich and intoxicating, “that you want me." And it strikes you that you’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life. “Tell me, (Y/N)." he’s always been the wordsmith, words have been good to you until now, They Haven’t failed you quite this spectacularly before. They’re gone, there’s not a trace of them left, and you open your mouth more out of habit than anything else. he laughs again, almost breathes his humour into you, and somehow that’s enough.

"Please, Nick." Your voice is foreign, trembling, and your eyes flicker open to watch the amusement fade from his smile. It leaves him open and vulnerable and awed and then your breath is gone again. You can see your own desperation reflected in his eyes and it sends a thrill through you so painful, so undeniable, your back begins to arch. But he’s above you, hanging like a passionate shadow, and there’s not a force in all of nature that can move him from you now. And he sees it, somewhere draped across the curving lines of your face or wading through the depths of your eyes. Just how much you want him. Need him. You don’t need to speak, though in truth you know that you never really did. He’d only wanted to hear you say it and had your grasp on language remained firm, you’d have been happy to oblige. But the only language you can recall is that of the body and, slipping your fingers into hair as thick and black as night itself, you tell him everything he wants to hear without a single word.

Your mouths mesh as though they were formed solely for the task. Slow kisses traded back and forth burn with a hunger and desperation that only a sense of finality can birth. Warms your skin and settles upon your heart like lava, and you know that when it cools you’ll feel the change to your very core.

The idleness of his fingers as they trail over the swell of your breast and across the plains of your rapidly rising and falling stomach is belied by the tremor you can feel shaking them. You want to say something, ease his nerves, reach out and grasp his, steady him, but you can do nothing but cling to the silk between your fingertips as his graze the inside of your thigh.