Dark Song (Mature HS)

7

"I don't cook often so I hope it's good," I say, his plate full of spaghetti.

"I don't cook so anything home-cooked is good to me," he mutters, my lips curving. He eats fast, eating a lot as well.

"Who's Lena?" he asks, looking up at me.

"My older sister," I explain, his head nodding. "She's getting married in three weeks and is freaking out."

He only nods, my fingers pushing the fork past my lips. "You got a date to that wedding?" he asks firmly, jealously protruding through his voice.

"That depends," I say, curious as to if he's expecting me to ask him.

"On what?" he asks, my eyes meeting his.

"On you," I breathe out, his fingers raking through his hair. "Because you don't seem to like other men talking to me at the moment."

"Because I don't want them touching you. I like doing that," he says, my heart fluttering at the possessive sound. I've never had any of my previous boyfriends talk to me this way.

"Do you usually do this?" I ask, his head tilting to look at me. My table is pretty small, my foot has been resting on his shin, but it feels so different between us. It's not awkward as I had assumed, but it feels comfortable.

"Never," he admits, my cheeks flaming.

"I want you to come to the wedding with me," I whisper, his hand setting down his fork.

"It has to be secluded. I don't want it to hurt your sister by bringing me," he says, my body getting up. He parts his legs and I step between them, my hands grabbing his.

"My sister hasn't seen me happy in a relationship before and I've been a mess since my last one. This morning, I was talking about last night, not mentioning your name, just how amazing it felt. She may not know who you are, but I'm slowly learning and she'd understand. Whatever this is, is something neither of us knows, but I want you with me at that wedding," I say, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me onto his lap.

"I don't do that relationship stuff well," he tells me. "I'm complete shit at it. Hell, I haven't even taken you out on your date."

"I like this," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. I lean my head down and he moves his head up, kissing me lightly. His fingers run along my bottom, my lips moving with his.

"But hell, you're a good fuck," he whispers, making me laugh.

He buries his head in my neck and I grip his hair, smiling at how easy this is going. I can't believe how comfortable I am.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks, my eyes locked on his shortly after.

"Nothing," I think, his hand coming to my chin.

"Stop this," he says, my teeth releasing my lip. I smile after and lean down, biting his lower lip.

"Bother you?" I ask after releasing, his hand grabbing mine. He forces my hand to his black jeans and I feel his arousal, my lower lip bitten by my teeth. I smile and lean my head down to his neck, my lips sparing kisses against the skin. My hands move down his torso and grip his jean clasp. I unbutton it and reach into his boxers, stroking his length as I kiss his neck.

"I took a cold shower after you left," he groans, my lips curving against the curve of his neck.

"Didn't last long before I thought about you," he says, my head lifting to kiss him.

His hands grab my waist and he kisses me, lifting me to lay on the table. He pulls my joggers and panties off, my legs wrapping around his waist. He pushes into me and grabs my hands, leaning them beside my head and leaning down.