Missing [ST]

Fifty Eight

A/N: I'm back in the saddle, baby. Enjoy an extremely long chapter that has many feelings that are constantly to and fro, themes that you may cringe over, but by now you should know I love some realism, annnnnddd there's finally some sex. Yep, there's explicit content, but it has been a long time coming and I hope I do it justice by diluting some meaningful conversations into the scenes too.

❤️xx❤️
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Steven caught up in no time, and slammed his palm across the door frame before the keys could be slotted.

"You tryna tease me?" he asked devilishly, dipping his head down to see the triumphant satisfaction blooming in hazel eyes, and a protruding curl of her lips that he wanted to teach a lesson.

Leah was ignoring him, and worked around his attempt to block her.

"No, I was trying to make it clear that if we stayed any longer down there, we would have had company."

The lock clicked, she raised a gratified eyebrow to make him move, and it was a brief moment of lustful eye contact that had Steven absolutely sold.

Move he did, sidestepping to allow her the space, and when the invitation to her flat was given to him in a similar manner to downstairs, he was chewing on his tongue and slicking his hair back with an easy going smile.

He was very happy when he watched her close the door behind them, but he was not about to let her get away with her little game that had left him more flustered than he wanted to admit.

"I think you're fibbing, sunshine," Steven claimed, catching her hip with his hand when she tried to slip past him. All innocent and silent, apart from the gasp of air that he sealed with his mouth when he rotated himself around her.

He got carried away far too easily, walking Leah back into the wall of the hallway that he'd barely looked past because he was so distracted with the idea of kissing her, and he was already obsessed with her hands pulling his hair and nails lightly scratching behind his neck.

It was just so simple to pin her in place and learn the curve of her mouth, or imagine the delicate skin that was hidden where his hands roamed and pressed. And he was particularly made aware of the welcoming heat in his pants when he prodded her lip with his tongue to steer his intentions, because the thought of sex was fogging his brain.

"Hang on," Leah breathed, pushing him back. "I need to sort this out."

She was gesturing to their clothes with her chin, because her hands were occupied grasping at the fabric on his deeply moving chest, one of the many saturated weights between them.

Steven was reluctant to let go, but she was right. There were droplets landing on the floor around them, and there was probably a brushed mark on the wall he'd trapped her against.

"I'm going to get some towels, I'll be back in a sec," she stated, freeing herself from their session, and tugging off her shoes.

It was a reminder he was standing in puddles as well.

"You want me to do anything? Help?" Steven offered, which directed her distracted gaze back on him. She was subtly poking her tongue out the corner of her mouth like she was caught deciding, and it made him swallow all the filthy thoughts he was having.

"Just...leave your shoes on the mat and if there's anything in your pockets, you can put them on the side to dry." Leah pointed over her shoulder somewhere to the left, and then cascaded into a nervous flurry of gestures that was mainly massaged into the side of her wet hair.