Precious Things || Jensoo

Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-Six

"Fuuuuuck..." Jennie's moan fills the air as my fingers thrust up into her.

She's wet against my tongue as I flick it again across her clitoris.

Her noises grow and grow, as I curve my tongue in the way I know she likes and thrust a little faster. I curl my finger tips upwards, pressing for the spot I found once and have relished ever since.

She lets sound fill the air as she bears down on me and then comes.

All over me.

God, it's good.

A hand in my hair tugs gently, pulling my head away and urging me back up to find her.

She moans gently against my lips, still breathing hard.

"God, Chu..."

"Mmm." I love doing that to her.

She's already made me come. But doing that to her has woken my lower parts up all over again. I could do that to her for hours and hours, though.

It's like sex is an expression of our relationship. As corny as that sounds, it's true. We're intense, Jennie and I. And our love-making is no different. I'm devoted to her and I guess – I hope – she's the same way back.

Sometimes it's hard to tell. Jennie is kind of all about Jennie, most of the time. She does treat me very well, though. She takes good care of me, and thinks about me. She does sweet little things, and generally makes me feel like I'm important in her life.

Given that she's the only person who does that for me, I'd say she was pretty key to my happiness.

I lay my head against her shoulder and sigh.

She came home with me after school today, and I don't know if Hyorin knows my grandfather isn't here. This is the first time we've made love in this bed, in this house. It's not as big or comfortable as her place, but it does have the added bonus of being isolated and that we're the only people here.

God, she made some noise.

It was great.

"Now is the time I'm supposed to be smoking a cigarette," she says, stroking my hair with one hand.

I giggle. "Jennie Kim, you are not taking up smoking."

"It's what they do in the movies," she protests.

I laugh again.

"I bet your grandfather has some hidden somewhere. I bet he has all sorts of things hidden. Porn, whips, chains, b-"

"Jennie!" I bury my head in her shoulder. "He so does not. Ugh... trust me, he's not the sort."

"It's always the quiet ones." She ruffles my hair. "For instance, you."

That earns her a playful slap on the arm and me kneeling above her. I move my fingers down to her sides and catch her understanding face before I start tickling.

It only takes her about three seconds to cry uncle.

She hates that I'm not ticklish.

In the end, she grabs my wrists and begs me to stop, so I do. And the second I do, she flips me over and holds my hands above my head, kneeling over me.

How quickly things go from playful to sexual. How quickly she makes me start to ache for her touch. I see her look down at me and bite her lip, and then she kisses me.

That's all it takes to start us off again.

Her mouth is all over me, sliding down and around. It's faster now, because we're already naked and I'm already half-way there. Her knee finds my centre and I undulate against it, her mouth hot on my neck.

"Jen," I hiss.

"I love touching you," she whispers back, her hand sliding down between us.

For a few moments I let her stroke me, building the fires, before I roll us sideways and prop my knee up over her hip. I feel her fingers slide down, in, making me arch and gasp. My nails scratch down her back, over her hip and then between us.

She's wet, and she's still hard from her previous orgasm. She moans against my cheek as our hands start to move together.

She pulls out from inside me and concentrates on my clitoris. Our breathing becomes harsher and harsher, together we move. I groan her name, feeling myself rise to climax.

I want her to be there with me.

I want us to come together. I speed up my own movements until her hips start to jerk and her lips part a little.

The little signs I recognise so well.

Letting myself go, I undulate my hips against her fingers until the waves of pleasure begin to wash over me. The only thing that lets me keep my own hand moving instead of stalling is the fact that I can feel her starting to come.

And together we ride it out.

She's beat. I wore her out.

I'm so proud of that.

I lie against her shoulder, tracing patterns on her stomach.

"Where are you going to college?" I ask.

"I don't know," she says. "I never really wanted to go."

"Really?" I frown against her.

"Sure, I want to be a musician, so some fancy pants diploma won't help me much."

"Oh."

"Hyorin wants me to go," she adds. Her hand on the back of my neck is soothing.

"Mmm," I add in a non-committal manner.

"Guess it can't hurt," she murmurs. "Lots of people meet band members at college... Radiohead... Monty Python..."

I giggle.

I know, deep down, that if Hyorin asked Jennie to jump through a burning window, she would. Big and tough on the outside, soft and marshmallow-y on the inside: that's my girl.

I'm still tracing patterns along her skin when I hear it.

She hears it, too.

It's impossible not to, and we both jump.

An almighty thud from downstairs.

The kind of thud that comes when someone opens a door a little too hard, when someone walks into the house and the door hits the wall.

Oh. Shit.

* *©clomle44* *