Troubled - Alex Turner

19. Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

He mumbled against the skin on my neck as he continued to bite down on it, lightly, earning soft exhales from me as he did so.

He continued his work there for a while before making his way down to my lower half, to where he looked up at me and I pulled him back up to my face, so that I could kiss him again, roughly.

"Fuck," he sighed as I pulled away eventually. "Fuck, Sophie, don't stop," he pleaded, pulling me back in to continue the kiss.

I then felt just how aroused he was as he begun to grind himself against me, the feeling of his raging erection pressing against my lower half, enough to make my want for him to be inside me become impossible to ignore. His tongue continued to brush against my own as his hips thrusted above me.

"Al," I moaned, gasping for breath. "Al, I need you," I painted, holding the back of his neck as his plump lips parted, fighting for oxygen.

He exhaled sharply, unable to take it any longer.

His hand moved down to his belt, unclasping it and disposing of it, as he traced kisses down my jawline again. He then discarded his jeans, so that now all he was wearing was his shirt and a pair of boxers.

I helped him remove his shirt, throwing it aside with the rest of the unwanted clothes, revealing his torso, which was lightly toned and slightly sweaty. His cologne became stronger in that moment, the rich scent only making me feel even more intoxicated than I had felt before.

"Ugh," he growled as he got rid of the rest of my own clothes, the pair of us left in only our underwear.

He then continued the kisses, the grinding, the touching. My hands tugged at his hair as his hands moved down to my heat, pushing me down against the mattress, harder, as his fingers rubbed against the silk material of my thong.

He pulled back to look at me as I painted like a right fucking tit, his lips swollen and his cheeks red. His gold chain dangled between our bodies. His hair was a mess and his now-not-so-perfect-quiff hung in strands on top of his forehead. "You sure you want this?" he asked again, his voice hoarse and filled with lust.

Of course I fucking want this.

His hand continued it's motions down bellow. I tried to answer, gasping each time his fingers hit the spot, but words failed to escape my lips.

His lips formed a devious smirk. "Left ye speechless, have I?" he teased, pressing more roughly against my wetness and folds.

"Fuck—" I exhaled, unable to escape his twisted grin as he watched me squirm beneath him. "—Fuck, Alex, just— just don't stop," I managed to let out. "Please," I begged making him chuckle.

His lips attacked mine, again, eagerly. His movements were dangerous, as I felt myself already coming closer to my orgasm. His lips moved in time with his fingers rhythm, only driving me more and more insane as the seconds went by. I felt powerless. Weak, under his touch. So, I decided to reverse the roles.

In one swift movement — which was surprisingly easier than expected — I managed to roll him over and pin him underneath me. He pulled back, his lips parting and his brows furrowed. But before any sound could leave his lips, I reached my hands down into his boxers and begun to palm his cock.

An incredibly loud, low grunt escaped his lips, out of surprise to my sudden dominance. I then took my turn in making him feel good, as I placed a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses, down his neck and across his chest, all while slowly stroking his now-ragingly-hard length.