#pssc

There are flurries of snow falling outside, the cold wind whipping them up into a blizzard. It’s cold enough that the windows have started to frost over too. Come the morning, there will be a ton of snow to shovel off the front porch and a frigid wind that will have you praying that those on patrol don’t lose extremities to frostbite. Winter in Jackson could be unforgiving and cold, but right now you’re anything but. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that your houses have central heating and everything to do with the fact that Joel Miller has just made you come for the second time that night with just his tongue. It shouldn’t really surprise you anymore. You’ve been with this man for two years since he wandered back into Jackson, Ellie in tow, like two feral cats begging to be domesticated. And domesticate him you did. This man between your thighs worshipped you. Worshipped the ground you walked on. He’d provided for you. Helped build a home with you. Given you happiness you weren’t sure either of you had ever thought you’d have again. There was one thing missing though. 

You’d been honest with Joel from the beginnings of your relationship, which began as more of a way for you to both take out your stress and frustration with each other more than anything before developing into something much deeper, that you’d always wanted children. You were never going to be safer than you were in Jackson, it was now or never. At first Joel had been wholeheartedly against it. You hadn’t pushed, not once he’d told you about losing Sarah and the truth about Ellie. But in the past year he’d been warmer, more receptive to the idea. Maybe it had something to do with Ellie pulling away, growing older, or that fact that he too was finally starting to realise that this place was safe, that it could give a growing child almost everything they’d had before the outbreak.

Joel’s fingers are what brings you back to the here and now. They’re sliding through your slick and into your tight heat easily, your back arching off the bed and into the palm of his hand as he curls them upwards in just the right way. The way he knows makes you come undone. He’s working his fingers inside you much like he would with his cock, with an unrelating and pounding pace that tonight, has something unfamiliar building in your belly. 

“Fuck, Joel-” You choke out, reaching between your legs to fist at his greying hair, “Don’t- FUCK- don’t stop.” 

His mouth is free, Joel knows that if he put his tongue on you now it would be too much, which leaves him free to spew utter filth up at you from between your legs, “Like that, don’t ya’, sweet girl?” He proves his point but thrusting his fingers into you at a slightly new angle, causing you to cry out and arch even further into him, “My sweet girl,” He coos, “You gonna let go for me?” 

As it always is with Joel, it’s overwhelming. The need to come, acknowledging it might be too much, thinking that there’s no way he’s actually going to make you come again, then proving time and time again that he can play your body like a damn fiddle and doing it anyway. 

“Know you can do it,” He praises, leaning down to press hot kisses to your clit, enough stimulation to feel good and help you towards your high, but not enough that it’s too much for you, “Come for me, come on my sweet girl.” 

You’re bearing down into his hand, grinding down to meet the upward thrusts of his hand as you finally let go for him. You feel it almost instantly, the gushing and the pooling of liquid on the sheets, Joel’s chuckle between your thighs, and the level of relief you feel. It had happened once before with Joel, during one of your earlier encounters – just as much of a surprise now as it had been then. 

“Well, well,” He groans, “Finally, gotcha to do that again,” his fingers are slipping from your aching cunt, “Beginnin’ to think it was a fluke.” 

You can’t speak, only hum in pleasure as he trails wet kissed up your belly, between the valley of your breasts and then up along your jawbone. He settle’s himself between your legs, you can feel the heavy weight of his cock slipping between the slick folds of your pussy as he works himself into position for you, hooking your knees around the backs of your elbow as he leans down to capture your lips with his. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue as it licks into your mouth, mixing with your own tongue as he moves and slips his thick cock into you in one movement. Your break from his lips to moan his name, eye opening finally to look at him towering above you. He truly was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. The greying of his hair and beard, the starts of his wrinkles, the scars you could see, and those you couldn’t but knew were there. 

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me, sweet girl,” He moans, pressing your legs further back to place kisses down your neck, “Always feel so good for me.” 

The way he has you folded, practically in half, means that every time he pounds into you, he’s hitting that spot again, you’re so spent at this point you don’t think you have anything else to give him, but there’s nothing more you love than watching Joel come undone for you. On every thrust you’re both groaning and calling each other’s names, you manage to free your arms enough to grip his biceps, leaving crescent moon shapes on his skin where you dig your fingernails into him. 

“Not gonna last- fuck, sweet girl.” He whimpers from above you. 

Something in your mind snaps. You’ve got your hands on the globes of his ass in no time, pulling him into you, “Joel, please-” You beg, “Come inside me.” 

You watch with hooded eyelids as he tilts his head back and slows his thrusts before he looks down at you, dark brown eyes clouded with lust, “You sure you know what you’re askin’ for, sweet girl?” He speaks quietly, voice thick. 

“I’m sure Joel,” You whimper, “Wanna make you a daddy.” 

“Fuck,” He whispers, “Say it again.” He demands, picking the pace of his thrusts back up. 

“Gonna make you a daddy,” You cry out, fingers digging into the skin of his ass, “Give it to me Joel, come inside me.” 

He lets your legs unhook from his elbows, only so he can get his lips right by your ears, “Gonna fill my sweet girl up,” He breaths into your ear, “Fuck you like this until you’re round with my baby.” 

“Fuck,” You can feel his hips starting to stutter, you know he’s close, “Joel, fuck- daddy - please,” You beg, “Fill me up.” 

That’s all it takes for Joel to do just that. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, painting your fluttering walls with his cum for the first time, letting out a strangled cry as he does. He stays buried inside you to the hilt as he catches his breath, kissing at the lobe of your ear before he’s pulling out of you and sitting back on his knees. 

His big hands are squeezing gently at your thighs as he’s looking at the mess he’s made of your pussy. There’s a blush spreading across your cheeks at his gaze, “Don’t get all shy on my now, hot mama,” He grins, “You look so good like this, my cum dripping outta ya.” 

You tip your head back and giggle, liking how the words ‘hot mama’ sound in his southern drawl, “I could get used to that, you know.” You smirk, reaching your hands out to drag him to the bed next to you so you can snuggle into his side. 

“I think I could too,” He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, big palm splaying over your abdomen, “Think I could get used to you swellin’ up here as well.” 

“That too tight?” Joel’s gruff voice is speaking from above you. 

You wriggle your wrists. There’s still plenty of slack that you can move them about a little, but enough to keep you tied to the headboard, just as you wanted. You can already feel the roughness of the rope scratching the skin of your wrists, but at this point you’re beyond caring. You’d asked for this, this was what you wanted, and so far, Joel is delivering everything you’d wanted. 

“Perfect,” You squeak out, looking up to find him staring down at you expectantly, “Daddy, sorry, it’s perfect, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, letting his fingers run a little way down the bare skin of your arms before he’s pulling away, standing at the foot of the bed in just his boxers, “I’m gonna take real good care of you, sweet girl,” He’s speaking as he bends to where his backpack is at the end of the bed, pulling out a strip of material that looks like it was a tie in its previous life, he’s rounding back to you on the bed, “Lift your head up for me a little,” He instructs, you do as you’re told and he’s wrapping the tie around your head to cover your eyes, “Still okay?” 

“Still okay.” You speak. 

“Good,” You can’t see him anymore, but you can feel the movement on the mattress as he stands again, “Anything gets too much, you use that word, you remember it?” 

“Red.” 

His voice is further away when he responds, “Good girl.” Then you feel his calloused palm grip your ankle, the sudden touch that you weren’t expecting makes you jump, which causes him to chuckle low in his chest. 

You can feel the bottom of the mattress dip as Joel kneels between your ankles, he’s got a hand on each and he’s dragging his palms slowly up the skin of your legs. Asking to be restrained and blindfolded had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now you were aching to reach out and touch him, coax his mouth up to the apex of your thighs, to show him what you really wanted, as if he didn’t already know. 

When Joel reaches your knees, you can feel his hands gripping the bend of your legs, pushing them back as you feel the bed dip more where he’s lying down now. You can feel his breath on your pussy, already wanton and aching from where he’d kissed you breathless and stripped you down ever so slowly before tying you up. You buck your hips up towards the source of the hot breath, receiving a sharp squeeze to the skin he’s holding. 

“Now, now,” He warns, “That’s not how a good girl behaves, is it?” 

You grumble, “No daddy,” You acquiesce, “I’m sorry.” 

“You’ll get everything you want, sweet girl,” He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, facial hair scratching at your delicate skin, “You’ve just gotta be patient, okay?”

Your response is a moan as you settle your hips back on the bed. Joel presses another soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before he’s pulling his mouth away. You’re expecting him to move to the other side, much like he always does, but the next time he kisses you, it’s on your tummy, then his lips are pressing a kiss to the soft curls at your mound, then moments later they’re back at your thighs. 

It's hard to keep up with, you don’t know where his lips are going to touch next, and it’s got your chest heaving and your body writhing. He knows where you want his lips the most, he can feel the way you’re trying to subtly move yourself, so his mouth is where you want him. But he’s not done. The control he has over you in this moment is overwhelming and he’s going to make you wait as long as he can bear before he gives in. He continues to pepper soft kisses across every inch of your skin, reveling in the way that your whines and gasps are coming a mile a minute. 

“Joel, please,” You beg, “I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Poor baby,” He coos softly when he’s at the skin between the valley of your breasts, “So needy for me, aren’t you?” He’s trailing his lips down your abdomen, letting his tongue run wet trails over your skin until he’s back between your legs, “Does my sweet girl need my mouth here?” You can hear him ask, before you can feel the pad of what you think is his thumb running lightly along the seam of your pussy. 

“Yes, daddy,” You groan at finally feeling him where you want him the most, “I need you.” 

“Alright baby,” You can feel his breath fanning the skin there now, “You’ve been so good for me, so patient, let me make you feel good.” 

You can feel his rough hands spreading the lips of your pussy, baring your slick center to him, before he presses a singular open-mouthed kiss to your clit. The feeling of him finally putting his lips on you is ecstasy. One small touch of his mouth and you’re aflame, skin prickling with pleasure. He goes back a second time, just another kiss to your clit, but this time he finishes with a flick of his tongue across it and now you’re letting out an obscene moan from your mouth. 

Then, Joel Miller does what Joel Miller does best and devours you. His tongue is inside your pussy, coating his mouth in as much of your slick as he can manage, the pad of his thumb working circles over your clit when his tongue isn’t. He can tell all the teasing has you worked up, the way you’re grinding into his tongue and chasing the pressure of his fingers on you. You’ve been a good girl, he decides, he’ll give you what you want. 

“Does my sweet girl want to come?” He asks, latching his mouth around your clit to suck, you let his name drop from your lips, “I know she does, go on baby, let go for me.”

He manages another three swipes of his tongue before you’re arching your back off the bed, the rope tightening around your wrists, adding pain to the insane pleasure currently coursing through your body as he works your through the shuddering aftershocks. God, you wish you could see him right now. He always did the same thing, grins up at you with his wet mouth, eyes dark like predator pouncing on prey, as he slinks up to rest between your thighs. You can feel him shift from the bed, thinking he must be taking off his underwear, before there’s that telltale dip in the mattress. 

You almost cry with relief when you feel his body press to yours, the broad expanse of his chest is pressed to yours, you can feel the stiffness of his cock sliding through your folds, nudging at your clit as he settles himself above you. You can feel his palms resting on the bed on either side of your head, then you can feel his breath fanning across your face as he kisses you. You can taste yourself on him, his tongue in your mouth, mixing with your own, as you drink yourself down, then he’s dragging his perfect nose across your cheek to rest next to your ear. 

“Still okay?” He whispers, letting his tongue jut out to lick across your earlobe. 

“Still okay.” You confirm, tilting your head so he can press kisses to your neck. 

“Gonna fuck you so good baby, you ready?” 

“So ready,” You whine as you feel him start to slide his thick cock into your aching cunt, “Feel so good, daddy.” 

“Yeah, that’s right sweet girl,” You can hear him panting into your ear as he bottoms out, “Daddy fucks you real good, doesn’t he?” 

All you want is to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and grip onto him as he fucks into you. Want to be able to lean up and press kisses to the sweaty skin of his chest. Grip the meat of his ass to bring him deeper inside of you. 

“Look so fuckin’ pretty for me baby,” He chokes out, as he picks up his pace, “All spread out and takin’ me like a good girl.” 

As his thrusts get harder, you start grinding your hips up to meet him. You want this man to give you everything he has. You’ve given him everything you have in this moment, most of all the unbridled trust you have in him, that he’ll tie you up and use you like this, the kind of trust you’ve never had with anyone before. 

“Want you to come for me, daddy.” You let out a moan as he uses one hand to tilt your hips so he’s hitting that incredible spot inside you. If your eyes were open, you’d be able to see stars. 

“Fuck baby- I’m so close.” You can feel his pace getting sloppy, can hear the way his gasps and groans are speeding up. 

Then, he’s pulling out of you, just as he always does. You can hear him grunting and the slap of his skin as he fists his cock, before the warmth of his cum is spreading across your lower tummy. You feel his big palm come to rest on your hip as he’s heaving in air to his lungs. Then, you can feel him clambering over you and taking the blindfold off. 

“Hey pretty lady,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your nose once the material over your eyes is gone, “Let me untie you.” 

His fingers make light work of untying the knots he’d made in the rope. You’re grateful for the relief of the scratchy material being gone. He leaves you on the bed, pressing a kiss to your temple before he leaves the room, coming back moments later with a glass of water and a washcloth, which he uses first to soothe between your legs before wiping away his cum from your skin. 

“Get under the covers,” He encourages once he’s pulled the duvet back, letting you slide in first before he’s getting in as well, pulling you to his chest, “They sore?” He asks when he notices the red marks along your wrists. 

“A little.” You reply honestly, watching intently as he takes one of your hands in his, bringing your wrist to his mouth before he’s peppering soft and gentle kisses around it like a bracelet. He does the same to the other wrists, promising to pick some salve up from the general store in town when he’s out in the morning.

“Did you like it?” He asks, lips mumbling into the top of your hair. 

The warm water of the bath is a godsend after the day you’ve had. As soon as you slipped your body into the water, scented as always with lavender oil and some bubbles, you felt the tension dissipate from your shoulders. When you sink down further, letting the water cover most of your body, except for the toe poking out at the end of the tub, you can see the pink skin of your feet. Javi would tell me this water is too hot, you think. Then you hear the key in the lock and the front door opening. Speak of the devil.

“Querida?” 

“In here!” You call out, hearing his footsteps echo down the hallway until he’s pushing open the bathroom door and peering inside. 

“Long day?” He asks, knowing the only time you ever take a bath is when you’ve had just that. 

“The longest.” You give him a relaxed smile as he steps further into the bathroom, “How about you?” 

“Nothing a glass of whiskey and a kiss won’t fix,” He’s smirking, placing his hands on the side of the bath to lean down and take the latter from you, “You want one?” 

“Another kiss or a whiskey?” You chuckle. 

“Either?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll take the whiskey then.” You wink, to which he dips his hand in the bath water, letting most of it drip off, before flicking the excess at your face. 

He’s back moments later with two tumblers filled with ice and a healthy pour of whiskey in each. He hands one to you which you take gladly, enjoying how the ice-cold liquid slides down your throat, a complete juxtaposition to the steaming bathwater you’re sitting in. 

Javi sets his glass on the side by the sink, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, before he’s retrieving the drink to sit on the floor, one arm resting on the lip of the tub, facing towards you, “Cheers.” You clink your drinks together. 

“You’re going to ruin your back sitting like that,” You observe, pointing to the shrimp position he’s currently sitting in, with nothing to rest his back on, “Why don’t you just get in with me?” 

He takes his drink in his other hand, dipping his fingers into the water, “And melt my skin off?” He chuckles, “No thank you, querida.” 

“Stop being a big baby,” You tease, taking his wrist in a firm grip, “And get in the tub with me.” 

In the months you’ve been together, Javier Peña has learnt which battles to fight and which to let go, and this is one of them. He stands, quickly shedding his shirt, before making quick work of the rest of his clothes. You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his powerful thighs, the ones you loved planting yourself on when you rode him. When he turns around to move his drink, there is no other thing for you to do than stare at his ass, round and inviting, just asking you to reach out and grip your fingers into the globes of his perfect behind. 

“You enjoying the show?” He catches you staring as he turns around, the sight of his ass now replaced, albeit very quickly before he’s moving to get in the tub behind you, with his perfectly thick cock, already starting to harden just by looking at you in the water. 

“I always do.” You smile, sitting up and shifting down a little so he can stand behind you and lower himself into the water. 

“Fucking hell, hermosa, this is hotter than the sun,” Once he’s finally settled, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to drag you to lie back against his chest, “It doesn’t need to be a thousand degrees to get you clean.” 

“The purpose of a bath is never to get clean, Javi,” You sigh, letting your eyes close as the back of your head rests in the crook between his neck and shoulder, “It’s to relax.” 

“Relax, you say?” He growls into your ear, nuzzling his nose in the soft skin behind it, “You need me to help you relax, hermosa?” 

His hands are already finding your tits, palming them in his hands, taking each of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and rolling them into stiff peaks. You let a sigh out as you relax more into his body, feeling his stiffening cock at the small of your back. You can’t help yourself; you shuffle back a little, enjoying the small, strangled sound that catches in his throat. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” He chuckles, keeping one hand firmly gripping one of your tits, whilst the other dips down your body, under the waterline, and straight between your legs, “Lucky for you, I’m not in the mood to tease tonight.” 

He’s right, because almost immediately he’s plunging his fingers through your folds, taking just a few seconds to rub his finger over your clit, your back arching, pushing your pussy further onto his hand, before his fingers are dipping lower until they’re buried inside your aching cunt as far as they’ll go. 

“God, always so fucking ready for me,” He praises into your ear, “You been thinking about me, hermosa?” He teases then, “Only reason I can think that you’d be so fucking soaked for me already.” 

His hand is placed just so that he can curl those wonderous fingers up inside you whilst the pad of his thumb is precise on your clit. All you can do is clench your eyes closed so tightly tears are forming, choked gasps falling from your mouth as you do, “Asked you a question, bonita, you going to answer me?” 

“Fuck- yes, yes Javi, think about you all the time.” 

“Yeah, I know you do,” You can feel his lips tilt into a smirk as he’s kissing across one of your shoulders, “Fuck you so well you can only think of me.” 

You open your legs even further than they already are, trying to chase the high that Javi is currently hurtling you towards. His deep voice in your ear, his mouth nipping tiny little marks along your shoulder, his fingers deep into your pussy and the flat of his thumb rubbing those perfect circles across your bundle of nerves, they all combine in ecstasy and pleasure bursts through your belly, coursing through every vein to settle on every nerve ending you’ve got. You’re crying out his name and the shuddering aftershocks has the water tipping over the edge and onto the floor. You don’t have a care in the world, not as long as the man settled behind you, rock hard cock resting on your lower back continues spewing filth in Spanish into your ear. 

“Such a good girl for me,” He whispers, “Feel how hard you make me?” He’s asking as you try to catch your breath, he’s bucking his hips into you to prove his point. 

“Fuck, Javi,” You sigh when you finally have enough mental capacity to think about, “I need you inside me.” 

“Turn around and sit on my cock then.” 

He’s using the flat of one of his palms on your spine to push you forward, helping to maneuver you so you’re facing him. You thank whoever lived in the house before you for choosing such a large tub, because you can settle yourself perfectly on his lap, the tip of his cock nudging at the slick entrance of your pussy. Before you sink down onto him, you take a moment to look at him. His skin is flushed from the heat of the bath, beads of sweat already gathering at his temples. Then there’s his hair, mused and untidy from his long day, you can’t help but take your wet hands, slicking them through his curls. He is quite possibly the most beautiful man you ever laid eyes on. 

His wide palms are hitting at your hips, slowly moving you down to sink onto his cock. You throw your head back as he fills you, always so deliciously, letting his name fall from your lips as you start grinding your hips into him. You can hear the water sloshing around you, some of it splashing over the sides and onto the floor, but when Javi is wrapping one of his arms around the small of your back, still using his other hand to guide your hip in the movement that he likes, you couldn’t care less. He’s tilting his head forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it gently between teeth before he’s sucking and running his tongue over it to soothe. 

“Always look so good like this,” He moans into the skin of your chest, “Bouncing on my cock.” 

“Want you to come for me Javi,” You cry out, “Come inside me.” 

You feel him growl at your chest before he’s pulling away, leaning back in the tub, stilling your hips so you’re not the one moving. Then, he’s fucking himself up into you, a bruising pace that has your moans echoing in the tiny bathroom. You can feel his fingers gripping at your hips, knowing that there would be bruises there come the morning. His moans are falling from his lips quickly now and you watch from your perfect vantage point as he comes undone inside of you. His face is practically angelic, his mouth tipped open, strangled cries leaving it, with his eyes shut as he paints the walls of your pussy with his cum. 

He lets you go, catching you just before you can fully collapse on his chest, both silent save for the heaving of your chests as you try and fill your lungs with air again. You peer over the edge of the bath, wincing at the amount of water pooling on the floor, “Made a bit of a mess, Peña.” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

The empty bottle of wine on the coffee table is taunting you, just like the unopened second bottle of wine in your fridge is taunting you as well. The phone in the entryway is also doing a pretty good job of taunting you, begging you pick it up, dial his number and apologise, even though this had been all his fault. You sigh, pushing yourself up from the couch to go and retrieve the second bottle of wine from the fridge. Maybe another glass or two would be enough to knock you out so you didn’t feel the need to pick up the phone. 

You’re pouring the white liquid into your glass when there’s a soft knock at your door. For a moment, you consider ignoring it, thinking it’s probably only going to be your neighbour, knocking on your door for the third time this week because he’d forgotten an essential ingredient for dinner or wanted to complain about where you’d parked your car. You were likely to explode at him, so you take a large sip of the wine, wincing as it burns down your throat, your own fault for picking the cheapest option you could find, and take the glass and the new bottle to the couch. 

There’s another knock at the door, this time more insistent. You grumble, all you want is be left alone to wallow in your self-pity, so curse whoever this was that wouldn’t let you do that. In hindsight, you should have looked through the peephole in your door to check who it was that was disturbing you, but instead, you yank it open with a frustrated ‘what?!’ to be met with none other than Javier Peña. 

He's taken back by the venom in your words, swaying slightly as he steps back with his hands raised in surrender like he’s scared you might strangle him. It takes your alcohol-fogged brain a few seconds to realise he’s just as drunk as you are.

“Are you drunk?!” You exclaim, voice louder than intended because of the wine coursing through your veins. 

“Might be,” He shrugs, a lot calmer than you are when you’ve had a drink, “Think you might be as well.” He’s peering into your apartment, pointing a finger at the two bottles of wine on the table. 

“Jesus Christ,” You mumble, leaning forward to grab the collar of his leather jacket to drag him into your home, “Get in here before I get a noise complaint.” 

“Never worried much about those before, hermosa.” He grins as you shut the door behind him. 

“Shut up and sit down,” You demand, pointing to the couch, “What the hell are you even doing here?” 

This is when his exterior changes. Gone is that bravado and confidence you’re used to, that attracted you to him in the first place, replaced with aa nervous energy and a shifting in his seat. He leans over, picks up your wine glass and takes a hefty drink of it. 

“I miss you.” Is all he says. 

“Miss me?” You scoff, folding your arms over your chest, “You’re the one who left, Javier.”

“I did it to keep you safe.” He mutters. 

“Safe?” You ask, “Nothing about this fucking place is safe, Javier, you leaving probably did the opposite.” 

“I wasn’t talking about Colombia, querida,” He sighs, “I was talking about me.” 

You’re stunned into silence for a moment. If there was one thing you knew about Javier Peña, it was that this man in front of you, though capable of hurting most people, would never lay a finger on you. He’d never hurt you, apart from breaking your heart two weeks ago when he left without a word and didn’t bother calling. 

“I don’t…” You start, not being able to find the right words through the brain fog, “I don’t understand.” 

He’s standing now, walking slowly towards you to test the water as he speaks, “I’m not good at this,” He begins, “I’m not good at falling, I know I can’t be the man that you want me to be, the man I know you see when you look at me with your beautiful eyes,” He’s so close to you now, palm of his hand cupping your cheek, “I was only ever going to break your heart, hermosa, I just did it before it was too late.” 

“Then why are you here, Javi?” Your voice falters, head tilting into the warmth of his hand. 

“Because I can’t stay away,” He murmurs, “I want to be that man for you, I want to be better, I want to give you everything, to make you happy, God I want to try,” His face is inches from yours, you can feel hiss breath fanning across your cheeks, “Will you let me?” 

You don’t answer, instead, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes, wrap your arms around his neck and catch his lips with yours. He moves forward, pressing the breadth of his body against yours, one arm wrapping around your back to pull you even closer to him. You run your tongue along his plump bottom lip and groan when his mouth opens for you. It’s messy and it’s desperate and you’re both trying to drink each other in as much as possible. You because you’re scared he might pull away and leave again. Javi because he’s worried you’ll come to your senses and kick him out, just like he deserves. 

You taste the multitude of whiskey on his tongue, mixing with the taste of smoke from his cigarettes. It’s a heady mix and you’d missed it. You’re whining when he pulls away from you, trying to drag his face back to yours because you don’t think you ever want to be without his lips on yours again, but he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you don’t mind so much. 

“Forgive me?” He breathes, hooking his fingers into the band of your sleep shorts, dragging them down your legs to pool at your ankles, “Forgive me, hermosa.” 

Your hands are tangling in his hair, fingers running through the wayward locks. His mouth is so close to your core you can feel the heat of his breath fanning over your skin. He uses one of his wide palms to push gently at your stomach, leaning you back against the wall. Then, he takes hold of one your thighs, moving your legs to drape over his shoulder, the other firmly planted on the ground to keep you upright. 

You look down at him and he’s looking up at you, devilish grin painted across his face. He keeps his brown eyes locked with your own as his tongue flicks out and licks a perfect, wide stripe, up the seam of your pussy. Your head tilts back, hitting the wall behind you as a gasp leaves your lips when he does it again, this time letting his tongue dip between your folds to worship at your clit. 

You can feel his free hand spreading you for him, then his tongue is swirling fully over your clit and you’re crying out his name into the dark, tugging the hand that is tangled in his hair as you grind your pussy into his face. 

Javi could take you apart with military precision. In the span of a few short months, he’d managed to learn the exact movements of his tongue and fingers to get you off in record time. You can tell that this man is desperate to be inside you because his fingers are sliding through your slick and pushing into you with a ferocity you’re not used to. He’s relentless in his pace, curling his fingers up into you, hitting the spot that makes you sing, whilst his tongue is working quick flicks around your clit. 

“Fuck-” You groan, legs shaking as Javi has your hurtling towards the edge, “Fucking missed this.” 

His mouth pulls from your aching cunt just long enough to speak up at you, “Let go for me hermosa,” His wet mouth presses a kiss to your inner thigh, fingers still working in and out of you, “Come on my mouth.” 

His lips envelop your clit, there’s the pressure of sucking, the pressure of his fingers deep in your pussy, and the feeling of the tip of his tongue still running tight circles over your clit. Combine it all and you’ve got his name falling from your lips, orgasm slamming into you as Javi’s hands fly to your hips to keep you upright, mouth still working your clit through the aftershocks. 

Once he’s sure you’re not going to crumble to a heap on the floor, he’s standing, undoing his belt and tearing it through the belt loops in one motion. He unzips his jeans and pulls them down just enough to free his cock, before his hands are reaching around to pull you up. You wrap your legs around his waist whilst he pins you to the wall. His thick cock is buried inside you in one, swift thrust, and he doesn’t give you the usual time to adjust to him before he’s rutting into you, your back hitting the wall with every thrust. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers into your ear, tip of his nose running along your jawline as he peppers kisses across your skin, “I’m sorry, hermosa,” His teeth are worrying at different inches of skin, biting and sucking until he leaves marks before soothing them with kisses, “Tell me you forgive me.” 

Your pussy is throbbing with every hard thrust he makes; you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your hands are gripping at his shoulders through the leather of his jacket and the angle of your position means he’s going to push you over the edge a second time. There is no way you couldn’t forgive this man in this moment. 

“Always,” You moan, “Always forgive you Javi,” Your hips are grinding down into his own to meet his thrusts, “Just don’t leave me again.” 

He leans his head forward, resting it to your forehead as he continues to fuck you, “Can feel you,” He mumbles, “Feel you getting tight for me, come with me?” 

You let out a high-pitched squeal at his words, as he picks up the speed. Neither of you are going to last long. It’s you that finishes first, fingernails dragging along the leather of his shoulders, your throbbing cunt clenching around his thick cock, which is all it takes for him to join you. You revel in the sound of your name falling from his lips as he fills you up. 

You sigh as you take in your appearance in the bedroom mirror. There was no shying away from the fact that these past months in Jackson had changed your body. No longer scrounging for twenty-year-old cans of food or going days without eating just to make sure Ellie had enough. Here there was an abundance of everything. The warm stews from the mess hall, the fresh produce you cooked in your home, the barbecue food that would sometimes appear at The Tipsy Bison, it was all having an effect. 

You’d tried to ignore the pinching of your waistband all day, had even popped the button at lunchtime and not bothered to do it back up until you have to walk back home, but as you lifted the hem of your shirt, Joel’s shirt, you could see the red lines the material had made on your skin. Doubt started to fill your mind. He’d stuck around through thick and thin with you, been there on your darkest days, and you on his, had seen your body go through far more than gaining a little weight, and still never left, but this place was different. 

You couldn’t help but think about all the women here, captivated by the broad, mysterious new man who kept to himself. You heard them whispering in the bar about everything they’d like to do to him if only he’d give them a chance. Whether they noticed you listening in or not, it didn’t matter, you knew if Joel ever tired of you, he’d have the pick of the bunch. 

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes, willing yourself to swallow them down before you lose control, when you feel that familiar, strong pair of arms encircle your waist. Automatically you mold into his frame, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, he’s an observant man though, he knows something is wrong. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?” You’ll never tire of that Southern drawl in your ear. 

“It’s stupid.” You mumble, trying to turn in his arms, he’s keeping you exactly where you are though. 

“Ain’t stupid if you’re upset,” He presses the softest of kisses to your cheek, “Tell me.” 

“Jeans don’t fit.” You murmur, hoping that he won’t force you to repeat it, forgetting that he is actually pretty deaf these days. 

“Huh?” Yep. Deaf as a doornail. 

“I said,” You clear your throat, tears threatening to spill again, “My jeans don’t fit anymore.” 

You can feel his breath exhaling deeply through his nostrils once he hears you, his arms bringing you closer, fitting tighter around your middle. 

“That ain’t a bad thing, baby,” He muses, kissing the soft skin behind your ear, “Mean’s you’re alive, mean’s we’re livin’, properly now.” 

“I know,” You whine, wriggling your body to try and get him to change the subject, “I just….” 

“Just what?” He’s kissing down your neck now, “You gotta tell me what’s wrong, baby, else I can’t help.” 

“Worried,” You sigh, mainly from frustration, but also from the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin, “Worried you won’t like me anymore.” 

He movement of his mouth stops dead, pulling away from you, but keeping his arm tight around your middle, “Did I just hear you right, baby?” He asks, “Worried I won’t like you anymore?” 

You nod silently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He’s watching you intently in the reflection, taking one of his big palms from your middle to take your chin in his grip, “Look at yourself,” He commands, “You don’t see what I see?” 

“I guess not?” You shrug, not being able to shake your head through his grip on your chin. 

“Sugar,” He breathes, “I could never not want this face,” He’s let go of your chin and is instead trailing his fingers lightly over your cheeks, “The way your cheeks have gone plump, and that little dimple you get here,” He presses his finger right where he’s talking about, “Whenever you smile, you drive me crazy baby.” 

Then he’s letting his other arm drop from your middle, placing a hand on either of your shoulders, teasing his fingers lightly down the skin of your arms until your flesh is erupting in goosebumps, even through the material of his flannel that you’re wearing. Once he’s trailed his hands back up to your shoulders, he’s unbuttoning the shirt, slowly but surely, and then dragging it off your frame, leaving you in just your bra and jeans. 

This is the sight you hate. The way your tummy spills over the top of the waistband, the way the bra is definitely too small to comfortably do up in the back, causing little rolls of skin to spear, bunching around the material. 

“Stop thinkin’ and listen to me,” He murmurs, back at your ear now, hands reaching around you to cup your breasts through your bra, “Always loved these,” His hot mouth is back to pressing kisses on the skin behind your ear, “Ain’t ever gonna complain about them getting bigger.” He’s firm in his squeeze which has you tipping your head back, pushing your chest further into his palms, but he’s already moving on. 

His fingertips are gently running down your sides and over the curve of your waist, your body jolting when his touch borders on tickling, until he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans and pulling the zipper down. There’s an instant relief, but you can see those damn red marks again. 

“You see this?” He’s looking at you in the mirror again, urging your eyes to look at his hands where they are on your hips, “My favourite place to rest my hands, when I’m grabbin’ you in the kitchen to move you outta the way, or helpin’ you bounce on my cock.” 

The utter filth mixed with the sweet sentiment have arousal pooling between your legs, you can already feel the need to rub your thighs together for a second of relief. You always wonders how he does this – takes the things you think are your biggest flaws and makes them seem so insignificant, but in the best way possible. 

His hands skin the waistband of your jeans, hands slipping beneath the denim to grip the globes of your ass, “Do I need to say anythin’ about this, baby?” He asks, “Think you know exactly what I think about this peach.” 

He’s right. You know it’s always been one of his favourite parts of you. The way his eyes would trail over you when you bent over when you were out on the road. The way he pulled at your hips to pull you closer into his body whenever he slept behind you. The way he would bring a hard palm down on the skin when he was fucking into you from behind or give it a playful swat whenever he walked past. The way he would grip onto it, much like he was now, when he would kiss you. He needn’t elaborate this time. 

He shucks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles, guiding you to step out of them, before he makes quick work of unclipping your bra. You’re fully naked now, a sight you don’t think you’ve seen from yourself in many years. You want to shy away from it, want to pick apart the scars across your body, the added weight to your thighs and stomach. But when Joel is stood behind you, looking into your eyes in the mirror like he just won the lottery, it all inconsequential. None of it matters anymore. Because he was right. This means you’re alive, and you’re happy. You’ve got the man you always wanted to worship the ground you walk on. So what if you needed to go to the outfitters tomorrow for a new pair of jeans?

You meet Joel’s eyes in the reflection, noticing how your own eyes darken with lust at the same time his do, “You’re wearing far too many clothes, Joel Miller.” You whisper, voice low and husky. 

You place a palm on the glass, leaning yourself forward. Your ass presses only momentarily into his crotch, before he’s pulling away and practically ripping his own clothes off. He’s naked and behind you in what feels like seconds. His calloused fingers are reaching around and slipping through your folds, dipping down to your entrance, where he finds you slick. 

“Mama…..” He breathes, the term of endearment making you blush, “So wet and ready for me.” 

“Always Joel.” You breathe as he brings those soaked fingers up to play with your clit.

You push yourself back into him, chasing his thick cock. You’re aching for him, always are. 

“Look at yourself,” He’s saying, “Watch yourself when I give you my cock.” 

You do exactly as he says, eyes on your own in the reflection as you feel him line himself up with your slick sex. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life tellin’ you just how beautiful I think you are, sugar,” He says, hand resting at your throat as he slides his cock into your aching cunt, “Gonna love you regardless of how many new pairs of jeans you might need, you hear me?”

You don’t answer straight away, overwhelmed as always by the way he’s stretching you open as he works himself into your pussy to the hilt. You’d never watched yourself like this and it’s almost like you’re having an out of body experience. You know the girl in front of you, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed over is you and you know the man grunting behind you with his cock finally sheathed in your cunt is Joel, but it doesn’t seem real somehow. 

“Gotta answer me baby,” He speaks as he draws his cock from you almost all the way, “Only gonna give it to you if you answer.” 

“Yes Joel…” You whine, and you’re rewarded with his cock slamming back into you. 

He sets that pace, one hand pressed firmly at your pussy, working at your clit, the other at the base of your throat where he squeezes every now and then. You’ve seen Joel in a thousand circumstances where he’s had his hand around someone’s throat before. None of them have ever ended well for the other party. He could snap you in half like a twig if he wanted, but the way he rests his hand, squeezing just enough to cut your air for seconds before he releases, does nothing but thrill you. It sends shocks down your spine, straight to your pussy. You can feel how wet you are, you can hear it as he stuffs you with his length. 

You can see him in the mirror, and the visual is obscene. His teeth sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, the way his eyes are focused on the place where you’re joined together. You’re reveling in watching his fingers work your clit and you can feel that telltale coil in your belly start to unravel.  

“Joel – fuck – don’t stop, I’m gonna….” 

“Watch yourself,” He demands again, squeezing the hand at your throat, tilting your chin ever-so-slightly so you’re watching, his fingers rub a few more times over your clit before you’re letting go, “See how fucking pretty you look when I make you come, baby?” 

There are no words at this point. Your legs are threatening to fail you, all you can feel is the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside of you, repeatedly. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours, your moans and groans combining. Then, just like he always does in this position, he’s pulling himself from your clenching walls and fisting his own cock. You hear him first, the low growl you’ve come to know and love, then you feel it, the warm ropes of cum spilling over the cheeks of your ass and dripping down your thighs. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, respectively trying to catch your breath, before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you backwards to the bed. He throws you down on the sheets, a surprise yelp leaving your mouth. 

“Joel, the sheets!” You exclaim, “We just changed them, now they’re going to be covered.”