Life ain't even grey

Chapter 8: Flames

He recalled the last time they were together like this. Intimate. After the concert.

It seemed like an eternity since then but it was only a few months ago.

But now as he heard those whispering words for her, he felt whole again. His eyes serched for her, lighting up.

The words, so close to his heart they could have been taken from his own lips, made his stomach twist, “I don’t know,” he whispered. Maybe I am… “does this feel real?” he wrapped his arm around her back, a lump forming in his throat at the feel of her bare skin. And he hugged her to him, revelling in the weight of her on his lap and the sensation of her body up against his; her warm, perfectly unmarred skin pressed to his. She chewed on her bottom lip as she nodded to him. She looked so vulnerable then Finn realised he would do anything to make this real for her, “and this?” he asked before he took her lips from between her teeth to his. He kissed her soft, plump bottom lip lingeringly. She hummed in part agreement and contentment,

“What about this?” he whispered against her lips. Drawing confidence from the way her lips responded, ardently kissing him, Finn allowed his hands to caress her beautifully nude torso; from her hips to her breasts. She pulled away from his lips just enough to emit a breathy moan as she nodded in agreeance. He ducked his head to kiss her breasts thoroughly, teasing and pleasuring her. He heard her suck in a breath and began panting, her hands grasping his shoulders firmly. Her hips then began grinding into his lap, moving along his length. He gasped into her heated skin as he felt her sodden shorts begin to moisten his thin boxers.

“Finn,” she whispered. With surprising strength, she pushed him from her breasts to lay back and as he hit the pillows, she shifted off him just enough to draw his stiff length from his boxers.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head at her touch, “fuck,” he cursed loudly, feeling himself twitch in her hand, embarassingly eager for her touch. A giggle made him open his eyes and he gazed at her in disbelief. For how in sync they always were, for the first time, the humour of the situation she detected escaped his notice entirely. 

“Are you alright, Finnie?” she teased, amusement lacing her tone but her eyes were dark with want, the gold in them entirely blotted out behind her enlarged pupils.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled through gritted teeth. I want you… I want you so much…I love you. I love you very much... Please love me back...Don't leave. Don't let me go...

With a smirk, she let him go entirely and Finn felt himself fall solidly on his chiselled abdomen. Without missing a beat, she lowered herself onto him. He watched in sheer anticipation as he felt her heat on him. He groaned as she rubbed herself up and down the length of him, the thin, sodden fabric of her shorts between them. He thrusted and twitched against her in vain, desperate to be inside her now; to truly be with her. But for how perceptive she was to his needs, Millie only smirked as she rolled her hips languidly from the base of him to the swollen head.

His hips bucked up to hers but she had rolled her hips back. Even if she didn’t, Finn knew it was impossible with her shorts between them.

Why do I want someone so annoying, so fucking much?

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in frustration. Then he heard a low moan from her and his eyes opened, widening at the sight of her above him as she slid along his length. Her body was arched, her head thrown back, her lovely face tilted towards the ceiling, her eyes shut and her lips parted with pleasure, “oh Finn,” she sighed, her voice thick. 

If this isn’t the most beautiful sight in the world… Finn breathed, his frustration ebbing away as he admired the wonderful sight before him. Gritting his teeth against the cresting tension in his intimate parts, he cupped her breast with one hand, teasing her with his thumb while his other hand wandered between them. Taken aback with the copious evidence that have now entirely soaked through her shorts, his fingers fell into a practiced, familiar motion against her swollen intimate parts through the fabric. She gasped, her body shaking as she struggled to maintain the rhythm of her hips.

He had half a mind to pull aside the fabric of her shorts and slip into her but he would not, not unless she wanted it. So he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore how good it felt to have her heat, which he knew would only be infinitely more intense from within, pressed up against his length. Channelling every inch of his concentration he can garner in this moment, he persevered in his ministration, rubbing, pinching and stroking her just as he knew she liked.

Soon enough, she peaked with a loud, raw cry. Her legs quivered and sandwiched his hips firmly between her thighs. She grounded her hips to his, squeezing his painfully hard length.  He grunted, fighting it but felt a bead gather at the tip all the same. She began trembling, her eyes squeezed shut and her face contorted in almost pain. Riding over her last wave, she fell boneless against him and he eagerly collected her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. He steadied her as she shook.

“Finnie,” she uttered, her voice thick and unlike her own. He realised he liked the sound of it all the same. Her searching hands grasped his arm weakly, trying to hold him to her.

“Mills…” he whispered, “I’m here,” pressing a kiss to her temple. She hummed; a sweet contented noise as her body relaxed against his.

Still shaking, she turned her head and peppered his bare chest with kisses. A hot breath left her lips and brushed his skin, causing it to pimple, before she lifted her eyes to meet his.

His breath stilled entirely as the raw, undeniable look with which she gazed at him made an unwitting shiver pass through his body. He smiled. She loves me.

Holding his gaze, she pushed herself up on weak, shaky arms. Then he felt her slide down to his thigh as she retrieve his length from his belly and began stroking him. Her fingers gently massaged him, focussing on the crown that grew only more sensitive from her touch. His body reacted and the tension low in his abdomen, already built to the point of snapping, grew. He took the shallow breaths that he could only manage at this point. His hips bucked and snapped up, searching for more. She laughed and bit her lips as her hand that was stroking him grew firmer, just as he needed. The other hand gently reached under the base of his length, finding him tight and throbbing on the verge of his peak. She cupped him before she rubbed tenderly. Pleasure shot through his body, setting every nerve poised and alight for her touch. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mind unable to even begin to comprehend how she made his body so desperate for her; how she made his heart stutter and sing at the same time.

But she's not yours anymore. She walked away. Left you. Without even looking back. You love her but does she really?

His smile faltered and the fear crept in.

She would leave you. She has before and you were complete then, not broken as you are now, after all of their history, all of their past, so many people in between, the world, life…

“Mills,” he croaked out, his voice halting.