You’re so shocked to see him again—and at a party like this nonetheless—that you don’t even notice the girl clinging to him. Not that you care if he’s with a new girl anyway; He’s always with a new girl. 

As if sensing a pair of eyes on him, Chris’s eyes find yours in the crowd of sweaty bodies, his lips curling up further at catching you watching him. His amusement grows when you look away, pretending like that brief eye contact didn’t just make you feel a flutter in your stomach. 

He excuses himself from his friends and the girl clinging to him, leaving her sulking beside his buddies, and begins walking towards you. The smugness on his face as he navigates through the sea of people isn’t lost on you. 

He knows exactly how much he affects you. 

And that’s the worst part. 

"Hey..." He says when he’s close enough, and tilts his head to catch your eyes. "Didn’t expect you to see you here." 

"You have some audacity talking to me, Christopher." Your jaw clenches. The sarcasm bubbles off you—a defense mechanism that Chris knows all too well. 

"C’mon... Don’t call me that. You know I don’t like it-" 

"What are you trying to do?" 

Chris blinks as you cut him off. Then laughs—a loud, amused laugh that grates on your nerves. "Jesus, I’m not trynna do anything. I’m just saying hi to my favorite ex." 

"Well, you’ve said your hi. I think you should go back to your friends now." You try to dismiss him, but he’s like a pest, unwilling to leave. 

"Don’t be like this-" 

"Jesus Christ Chris!" You snap. “Why are you even talking to me?”

He shrugs casually, not at all bothered by your frustration. "Because I’m bored." 

"Then go home," you say sharply, before adding sarcastically, "you looked like you were having enough fun." 

Chris smirks—that annoying, shit-eating smirk—the kind that tells you enough how smug he’s becoming. "Jealous about it? You jealous?" 

You roll your eyes so hard you think it might get stuck that way, and decide to ignore his dumbass instead of entertaining him further. Turning on your heels, you begin to make your way towards the hallway where it’s quieter. Hoping Chris would get the message and leave you alone.

But of course, the fucker follows after you like a puppy, giggling under his breath like the sight of you fuming is oh-so-entertaining. 

You finally stop in your tracks and turn around so sharply you almost get a whiplash and Chris almost runs into you. 

He raises his eyebrows as he looks you up and down shamelessly. "Why’d you stop?" He asks casually, like he doesn’t notice how much he’s been annoying you in the mere 5 minutes he’s interacted with you. 

"Why? You’re really asking me why, Chris?" You ask incredulously. "You’ve been following me like some brainless meat puppet for the past few minutes. It’s fucking pissing me off." 

Chris leans closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate sound. "Maybe if you’d just talk to me like I’m not a nuisance, I wouldn’t keep annoying you." 

His hand reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but you glare at him. Which makes him chuckle and retreat his hand, tucking it into his pocket instead. 

"You’re really good at acting like you hate me.” Chris murmurs, his voice barely audible over the faint thumping of the bass from the music blasting in the main room.

"I know you’re not over me. Or us." Something shifts in his expression. Something raw he’d been hiding behind that casual grin.

"Chris-"

"Don’t shut me out again. I just want to talk... Please?"

The way he was looking at you now—softer, less cocky, almost desperate—breaks down your defenses much quicker than he thought it would.

Your expression softens against your will and you find yourself nodding slowly, sighing as you mumble out an agreement. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll talk.”

Buuut you knew in the back of your mind that it would never end with just talking when it comes to Chris. 

Especially when he’s got you in his own house instead of the party you were both at.

He always knew exactly how to talk you through it. Make you beg for him before he’s even touched you. 

And this time isn’t any different. You had folded before he’d even suggested anything. Climbing onto his lap and making out with him like before everything fell apart and you pretended to hate him to avoid getting heartbroken again.

Chris’s hands on your hips tightens ever so slightly as you grind your hips against his slowly. His breath hitches against your lips, feeling how warm your core is even through your clothes. His hips shift slightly, pushing his boner harder against your core and coaxing out a soft, breathy moan from you.

His hands roam over your body as the kiss deepens, trailing across your figure with such reverence you almost think he’d take things slow. 

But the next second, you’re flipped under him, your gasp getting caught in your throat as you stare up at the brunette man who’d once been your person. He’s already taking off his hat before your brain can fully catch onto the position you’re in and how much you’ve missed being under him.

His t-shirt follows next, getting tossed to the floor on one side of his bed. The sight of him shirtless makes your stomach flip and you know that you’re probably staring at him so shamelessly. He looks a lot buffer than the last time you’ve seen him shirtless.

He must be hitting the gym a lot lately huh…

"You know we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to." Chris suddenly says, pulling back ever so slightly to look at you better. "I don’t want to force you into anything."

You blink, your head becoming much clearer as the slight concern in his words register. You must’ve looked like you were having second thoughts about whatever was about to happen. But that wasn’t it. Why is he not getting it? That you’re so overwhelmed with so many different emotions at seeing him like this again to even get in your head. 

You were too busy checking him out to worry about anything else. And he needs to know that that’s the reason why you looked zoned out.

Your hands slowly reach out to cup his face, his skin warm against your palms. He goes stiff at first, not expecting the gentleness, before he melts into it. Eyes fluttering closed as he lets out a soft sigh, shoulders relaxing.

"I want this too. I promise." You whisper. "I just… feel overwhelmed."

You’re not sure if you should admit to it, but seeing the way he was hanging onto your every word eased some of the nerves. 

"I missed this is all."

His expression softens further and his lips curl into a soft smile—one that makes your heart squeeze tightly. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I did too." He admits softly, leaning down to kiss you again. 

"We’ll take it slow." Is what he said.

But when his tip breached your entrance after the foreplay, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

His hips rock slowly, gritting his teeth as he tries not to pound his fat cock into you over and over again. It’s also been such a long time since you two have had sex, and truthfully you haven’t fucked anyone since him, but you’d never admit to it.

Chris groans, his cock throbbing painfully inside your warm, wet walls that are currently squeezing the life out of him as if it wants to drain his balls. He doesn’t remember you being this fucking tight. He knows he’s big, but you always took him so well before.

His hips halt to a stop the moment he hears the little wince when he pushes a little harder. His eyes immediately search your face for any discomfort. "Fuck, you okay? Hurts?" He’s already beginning to pull out as he says so, but your legs suddenly wrap around his waist tight enough for him to sink balls deep inside you.

Both of you gasp loudly at the sensation. You feel filled to the brim. The stretch is painful—but deliciously so. It feels like he’s all up in your guts, so deep that his tip is pressing insistently against your cervix like it wants to push past it.

Chris on the other hand almost nuts inside you at the sudden soft tightness of your pussy squeezing around him like a velvet vice. He has to go completely still and try to breathe through the pleasure to prevent himself from ejaculating prematurely.

It doesn’t help him one bit when your inner muscles begin to flutter and contract around him to accommodate his size.

It takes a few long minutes for the both of you to adjust to the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses. And when Chris begins moving, he forgets all about going slow. He pulls back almost completely before slamming back home.

The sheer intensity of his thrust has you jolting up the bed, which he prevents by caging your head in with his forearms when he repeats the same motion that has you clinging to him.

Your nails dig into his back as the wind gets knocked out of your lungs each time his hips collide with yours. You can barely moan properly as the pleasure blooming up your core threatens to overwhelm you completely. 

His thrusts soon turn shallow but deep. Though his pace and how hard he was fucking you didn’t change at all. His breath catches against your neck where he has his face buried, sucking and biting at your neck and shoulder like he just can’t get enough of you. Like he’s starving and you just happen to be the most delicious thing he’s tasted.

Your eyes roll back when he eases his pace but begins grinding his hips against yours in a circular motion whenever he bottoms out. His pubic bone provides such delicious friction against your clit. So much so it has your jaw going slack and pussy clenching around him tight enough for him to hiss in pleasure.

Chris knows he’s doing everything right when he hears the change in your tone and the way you’re clinging to him more than before. He knows you’re close already. But he decides to drag it out, changing his pace to one drastically slower than before.

"Chris," you whine breathily, swallowing thickly as you try to move your hips on his dick. "Don’t stop."

Chris chuckles, a low, rough sound as he keeps moving his hips slowly, dragging his hefty length along your quivering walls. "I haven’t stopped though, have I?" He questions cruelly, keeping you right on the edge without letting you tip over.

"Please, faster," you beg. "I’m so close… fuck, Chris—i’m so close-"

Hearing you beg like that finally snaps what little composure he was holding onto and he decides to give you exactly what you’re begging for. 

You can barely keep your volume down when he begins to pound you into his bed. The coils in your stomach grow more and more taut with each thrust and you’re not sure if you can even handle the pleasure.

"Fuck—ngh-ahh—can feel you squeezin’ me. Oh, fuuck–" Chris moans low in his throat, his rhythm faltering by a fraction before he’s fucking even harder than before. 

Warmth begins to flood through your entire body, starting from your core, before you can even warn Chris that you’re cumming. You cry out as your body arches under Chris’s, pussy milking his cock greedily. Pleasure overtakes your mind for a few earth-shattering seconds as you drown in the sensations created by your orgasm.

Chris follows soon after with a low, outdrawn moan against your neck, his hips stuttering against yours as he fills you full of his warm cum. 

He keeps moving slowly, panting softly as he lifts his head up to stare at the post-coital glow on your face. 

God, he adores how soft and sated you look after sex.

You feel his lips on yours before you can even catch your breath, let alone think about what this whole ordeal means to your status as exes. 

Maybe you’ll leave the thinking for later.

“You felt fucking amazing…” Chris whispers against your lips, one of his hands easing down to caress your waist and hip. “Think you can go ‘nother round? Wanna taste you next.”

Yeah… you’ll definitely leave the thinking for later.

© 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏