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SYNOPSIS: Months after breaking up, you and price agree to a âno strings attachedâ relationship to fill the void in your livesâbut it proves to be harder than anticipated when you both start to catch feelings again.
WARNINGS: smut, 18+ mdni, angst, language, some kinda fluff i think lol
WORD COUNT: 3.1k
Priceâs breath becomes heavy as you lay underneath him, wrists pinned to the bed. He mutters a string of curses as he thrusts into you, hips meeting yours. You can tell not by his pace, but by the force with which John digs into your hips with his hands as he grabs hold of you that heâs had a rough day. So rough, in fact, that heâs being rough with you; because on those days, you woke up the next morning with purple bruises that perfectly matched the shape of his fingers.
When your hands traveled along his body, and found their grip on his back as your nails dug into the skin, he shuddered. Obviously, youâd done it on purpose, knowing full well how to elicit that kind of reactionâ it wasnât your first time doing that to him. You were gentle, though, just barely grazing the skin as you scratched his back, careful to not be too rough. You both knew the ruleâ no visible marks. After all, you had appearances to keep. If he were to change in the locker room with his team in the vicinity, he didnât need all the questions as to where he got all the marks on his back from, and he especially didnât need them to ask about you; and you, for one, could really do without having to waste makeup on hiding hickeys and bruises again. But, you did wonder what it might be like if you did happen to break the rules a little. Just thinking about other people seeing the marks youâd leave on his skin the way you used to, made your heart race; or if he just let loose every once in a while and accidentally lost himself in you, and left a hickey or two on your shoulder peeking out of the collar of your shirt so that your friends could see; and they could ask you who left it, and youâd giggle shyly, telling them about your rekindled romance.Â
Yeah, that was something youâd sell your soul for.
With the way he begins to slow down and make sure that heâs inside you as deep as possible with every languid thrust tells you that heâs close. He was easy to read like that. As he buries his head in your neck, the hair of his beard tickles your skin and his deep groans become louder for you to hear. You place your hands on the back of his head, softly tugging at his hair, coaxing the orgasm out of him the way that youâd done before, knowing that it always made him cum just a little bit harder. You smirk a little when youâre proven right and feel him twitch; all he can muster out is a breathy âfuckinâ hellâ. When his body collapses next to yours, you have half the mind to curl up closer to him, to nuzzle your way around his arm and place a hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat. But that would be too intimateâ and thatâs against the rules.
Sex was just sex. Simple as thatâ two consenting adults in an agreement to use each other without any kind of romantic feelings. And who better to be in this kind of agreement with than your ex-lover? The one who knew everything about you, down to how to make you writhe and beg for more. The rules in this agreement were his idea, so as to not get confused, given your history with each other. And you had been perfectly fine with them at the time.
But that all began to change.
âIâm gonna shower. Youâre more than welcome to join me,â you say cheekily as you enter the bathroom, and he chuckles slightly. âBut if youâre gone by the time I get out, have a good day. Tell the boys I say hi.â
He was always gone by the time you finished showering after sex. And tonight was no different. But that didnât stop you from wishing that maybe one night youâd come back to find him sleeping soundly in your bed again. Or that youâd wake up in the middle of the night with his arm draped over you, thumb softly rubbing your arm as he drifted off to sleep because thatâs how he fell asleep the fastest. You scoffed at yourself in the mirror as you combed the tangles out of your hair.
How pathetic, you thought. Youâre over here losing your fucking mind dreaming up some perfect little fairytale where you and John Price live happily ever after when youâre the reason youâre broken up in the first place. Hell, for all you knew, there was some other girl waiting for him in her bed too. But maybe he took his time with her, talked with her about things other than work or the weather; or better yet, maybe on her bad days, he didnât know what to do, so he just held her. Or maybe he was the one who confided in her, and talked through his frustrations with her and thanked her for being there for him, instead of taking out his frustrations on her with her ass up and face in the pillows like he did with you. Obviously, you werenât complaining about that, but you wanted more. You wanted the relationship that you and Price had agreed to keep out of whatever this was. No other woman had known him like you didâhow he liked his breakfast in the morning, and that he preferred to spend his weekends out and about, but appreciated weekends spent inside the house. And the thought of him going to someone else for the things he used to go to you for, made you sick.Â
Physically and emotionally ill.
But it wasnât that John was some animal, some kind of alpha type who didnât suddenly didnât care about you and your feelings, since technically you werenât together anymore. That wasnât the case at allâit was the opposite. He always made sure to talk to you, make sure you were good to go, or that you were okay afterwards, and that was the problem, ironically. John Price treated you like something more than just the woman he was fucking and somehow in the middle of all the complexities and hesitations, he made you feel like you were his again and you fucking hated it. You hated it because it hurt too much to admit that you missed him. If only heâd been mean, or treated you like you meant nothing to himâthen your life wouldâve been easier.
But, no.
Instead, he treated you as he always had done, even way back when you were dating; from greeting you with a smile to offering to help clean you up if need beâbut you never let him, electing to take a shower each time instead. Not because you didnât want him to, but because you couldnât stand to sleep while smelling of him, not when you couldnât call him yours. With every quick hug or kiss on the head, he only made you fall harder, which went against the whole foundation of what you guys had. It was rule number one, and you had gone and fucked up and broken it like a fool.
A couple weeks had gone by since the last time John had heard from you. Every time the ding of his phone went off, he hurried to it, hoping that it might have been you. Of course, none of his notifications were you, as heâd kept your conversation muted on the âdo not disturbâ setting on his phone. It was too risky. If his task force ever caught a glimpse of your name in his phone or any of the messages, heâd never hear the end of it. It wasnât that he was embarrassed by you, but more so that he had a reputation to keep. How was it going to look if he, the captain, were distracted? If something went wrong on a mission, heâd blame himself for being too caught up in his own world than paying necessary attention to what really mattered.
Thatâs what he told himself anyway, and for a while, he believed it.
But it drove him fucking crazy. If he could, heâd go back to that Monday night all those months ago, and ignore the tension between you as you tried to talk through your relationship; heâd put aside his own desire and heâd stop himself from making the second worst decision of his life by declining your proposal to continue seeing each other with âno strings attachedâ. But if he really could, heâd go back to the beginning of that stressful phase in your relationship that took a toll on both of you; and heâd stop himself from making the worst decision of his lifeâletting you go.
Every time you sought each other out, he became more addicted than the last. And John knew it was starting to affect you too, he hoped it did. With the way youâd softly touch him when you thought heâd fallen asleep, or the way you wanted to just talk with him. He saw it in your eyes when you held back, wanting more so desperately but were afraid to do it, afraid that youâd push him away.Â
And when you sent him a text during the third week of not having heard from you, he knew he was ruined for good.
â
You promised yourself that you wouldnât do it, that youâd keep your urges to yourself and find some other way to satiate the hunger that ran rampant through your body. But there was nothing like John and there was no way you were going to be satisfied until you had him.
So there you were, sat on top of him, legs on either side of his waist as you take every bit of him inside, and ride him in a way that his cock hits your walls with every movement of your hips. He sits up on the bed, while his big hands keep you in place. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling him close so that youâre chest to chest. Hiding your face in his neck, you want to scream his name, but you hold back, biting your bottom lip and only allowing yourself to quietly moan. But the way that he holds your waist, guiding you up and down, or forward and back in such a way that he knows makes your body react more, makes it harder to keep control. You need more. You want more, but it feels so fucking good right now that youâre practically put into a trance, like youâre moving on autopilot with not a care in the world. Your vision becomes blurry, and your brain is consumed with the feeling of ecstasy that comes with riding John like itâs the last thing youâll ever do.
âNghhh,â you cry out when you feel his cock hit just the right spot, nearly making you cum right then and there that you have to grab onto his shoulders for support and lift your head. âI-Iâm⌠God, fuckââ
âThatâs it,â he coos, trailing his hands up your body, giving your breasts a rub and a pinch to your nipples, sending a sudden shock through your body. âThatâs my girl.â
He didnât mean to say it, it just came out in the heat of the moment and he regretted it as soon as the words fell off his lips. Price wanted to apologize, but he feared heâd be making a big deal out of nothing because, of course, it was just sex. Maybe you didnât even realize what heâd said. Still, âmy girlâ was way too out of line. It was reserved for those people in relationships, the ones who talked about their feelings and waited for the other to get home from work. âMy girlâ was what he had called you before and he hadnât said it since until now.
Your whines fill the room and they show just how much you need him tonight. Nearly reaching your climax, itâs like a red alarm went off in your headâyou donât want it to end. Because when you cumâwhich won't be too far off in the futureâJohn will leave and youâre left alone again, as always. So you slow down your impending high as much as you can, slowing the rock of your hips and slowing the way your body slides up and down on his cock. It was supposed to help keep your orgasm from crashing down on you, but the way youâre suddenly forced to feel every inch of him, every vein so slowly, it feels like itâs going to make you burst. The knot in your stomach grows, and you can feel your body desperate to let go and feel the wave of desire wash over you. And the way that Johnâs practically an expert when it comes to your body makes it hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to make you cry out for more, and heâs using that to his advantage. The way your eyes turn glossy, with not a thought behind them spurs him on and inflates his ego. He wants you to cum, he wants you to come undone on top of him, right before his eyes, knowing that itâs his cock thatâs got you losing control of your own body. He couldnât care less about his own pleasure, but with what youâre doing and how absolutely fucking beautiful you look while doing it, heâs not far behind you. He flexes and thrusts his hips back into you so hard that his skin slaps against yours. John is just as eager as you, but heâs not the one trying to hold off from cumming. He knows you want it too, if not more than he does, and every time he bucks into you, you can feel him subtly pick up his pace.
âJ-John⌠waiââ
Itâs too late, you canât even finish your sentence before tension within you snaps and euphoria clouds your mind. And youâre still coming down from your high as John continues to fuck you, his thrusts becoming more erratic and sloppy. This was his favoriteâwell, aside from having your lips around his cock and fucking your throatâwatching you ride the waves of your orgasm; whether you were on top or underneath him, there was something angelic about the way you fluttered your eyes, trying to keep them open; and the way that he could see your cheeks turn red, even in the darkness of night with only the dim brightness from the string of lights around your room. The sinful sight of your gorgeous form above him is what sends him right over the edge and leaves him in a cloudy state of mind.
When you both catch your breath, he shifts his body backward onto the bed, and lays down. Gently, he guides you down, allowing you to lay on him for a moment, which isnât necessarily new, but it makes you feel complete. Your head lays on his shoulder, while a hand of his travels up and down your back. The roughness of his palm and fingers send shivers down your spine, and threaten to lull you to sleep.
John brushes the hair out of your face with his fingers, wanting to get a better look at you in your peaceful state; he had to admit, though, this might be his new favorite sight. Your eyes open, and you look at him, confused. There was a soft tiredness behind them, that reminded him of a waking puppy. And god, every time you blinked with those eyes, he was willing to ruin his life a hundred different ways.
The rough pad of his thumb swipes across your cheek. Staring at your lips, he leaned forward and kissed you, catching you off guard when his tongue brushed your bottom lip and easily slipped into your mouth. Itâd been so long since he kissed you like this; with such fervor, such desperation, like suddenly his life was dependent on tasting you, and your heart pounds as John kisses you eagerly, so hungrily. But as much as youâd been conjuring up scenes in your mind about what this would finally feel like, you canât help but wonder if this is all just some cruel dream that youâll wake up from in a matter of minutes; you canât enjoy this, your mind refuses to let you because heâs just broken his own rule and he doesnât seem to care.
Pulling away quickly, you climb off of him, and search for your clothes scattered all over the place, âI-I canât do this anymore, John.â
Heâs taken aback, watching you hurriedly pull a t-shirt over your head and not realizing that itâs actually inside out. John gets up, pulling his clothes on too, and follows you into the living room of your apartment. Youâre grabbing his things, shoving them into his arms like youâre a teenager trying to rush a boy out of her parentâs house.
âHang on a minute,â he says, setting his keys and wallet down on your counter. âYou canât do what?â
âThis!â You shout, pointing a finger at both you and him. âWhatever fucking mess we are, I canât do it anymore!â Clutching your hair in your fists, you pause to take a breath, âI just⌠I canâtâŚâ And as quickly as the anger came, it left; and was replaced by a familiar sorrow. âI canât keep pretending like it doesnât hurt every time you leave. Like I donât lay there alone at night, wishing you would just stay.â
âAnd what about me, eh? You donât think about what Iâm going through?â Price is slow as he takes small steps toward you, afraid that any sudden movement will set you off and scare you away. If you didnât know any better, you would think he was angry with you, but what you hear in his voice is frustration. âYou take your showers after our nights together, probably hoping to rid yourself of me, and I bet it works, doesnât it? But everything about you is so ingrained into my mind and body that showers canât fix that problem for me.â
Price stands directly in front of you, rubbing your shoulders as he closes his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. Wrapping his arms around you tightly, he rests his chin on your head. Itâs the first time you feel this close to him, despite all of these months spent entangled together in your bed. He just stands there, hugging you, and softly rubbing your back. Your arms inch their way around him too, and you give him a small squeeze. Johnâs grip around you doesnât waver, and for the first time in months, youâre not afraid of him leaving.
âI regret this,â he says, lifting your chin up, so that youâre looking at him. âSo fuckinâ much.â
The way your eyes look like youâre about to cry makes his heart ache. He can see the tears filling the brim of your eyes, and he knows how much youâre holding them in.
âI shouldâve never agreed to this.â His voice is soft, nearly a whisper.
For a moment, youâre afraid that heâll leave again and not come back so you grab onto his arm, begging him to stay. âIâm sorry, John,â your voice cracks as some of the tears finally break free and slide down your cheek. âFor everything. I-I shouldâve.. I shouldâve fought harder for us.. I shouldnât have let things get in the way, of what we had, I.. I ruined us.â By now, youâre choking out sobs, gasping for breath, but all you can do is lean into his chest as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.
âShh, take it easy, love, donât blame yourself,â he rubs your back soothingly, the way he once did. âIâm not faultless here. I shouldâve taken more care of you, shouldâve seen the signsâŚâ He presses a kiss to your head, âI want us to date properly again, celebrate our anniversaries, and do other things in that bed of yours, like sleep for once.â You chuckle at the last bit, and he smiles; heâs always loved hearing your laugh. âBecause I donât think I can go another day like this. I donât just want you at night, I want you all the time.âÂ
âA-are you sure you want this again?â You ask, wiping your cheeks, and having a hard time believing that you were having a crisis over everything you lost and yet gaining it all back in the same night. âWhat about the rules?â
âFuck âem,â he shrugs, reassuring you that you are what he wants. âWeâll break every last one.â
a/n: iâm trying to get out of this writerâs block đ and i never proofread so apologies for any mistakes lol
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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