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‘Ben.’
His name was less than a moan, but not quite a whimper either. They’d started out rough and demanding but then you’d gone soft. Like you always did when you finally let him have you.
When the tension broke and he could grab you and kiss the argument from your lips. When him throwing you on the bed, pinning you beneath him and stuffing you with his cock made you brainless and needy.
And he needed it just as much.
‘That’s it sweetheart,’ he murmured, one hand palming your tits as he rolled his hips again, ‘you feel good baby?’
‘Too much,’ you whimpered, looking up at him with wide eyes, your hands holding his neck, pulling him closer though he wasn’t sure he could if he tried, given how he’d folded you in half, ankles around his ears so he could drill you into the mattress.
‘Nah c’mon you can do it. My girl takes care of me, don’t she?’ he rasped, pressing a rough kiss to your cheeks ‘know you can, taking me so well doll. So good for me.’
‘Always good for you,’ you promised.
‘I know, best pussy I ever had. Only one I ever want,’ he said, groaning as you fluttered around him at the words.
‘Ben,’ you gasped.
‘You close, doll?’ he breathed, though he already knew the answer. You nodded, pushing down to meet him, your head in the pillow.
‘Wait for me,’ Ben ordered, the familiar tightening of his balls coming quick as he watched your eyes start to roll.
‘Fuck,’ he grunted, mouthing at your tits, trying to bury himself in every inch of you.
‘Soldier Boy,’ you whimpered.
‘Soldier Boy!’
Your voice snapped him awake. Only when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in bed. You weren’t beneath him. He was on the couch at the safe house, where he insisted on sleeping so he was near a door. The first line of defence. And you were sitting at the kitchen table with Butcher and Hughie, scowling at him like you usually did.
Soldier Boy rolled his eyes and sat up brushing the sleep from them as you went back to whatever the three of you had been taking about before you’d rudely awoken him. He sat up, rolling his neck.
That was when he felt it, his cock pressed against the waistband of his sweats, still hard, still aching despite the fucking half load he’d could feel congealing against his thigh.
He’d had a fucking wet dream. Like some god damn teenager.
And worse, he realised as he looked over at the table and found you still in conversation, he’d had it about you.
You felt his eyes on you and glanced over but he just glowered like he always did, and busied himself with getting up. He needed to change. He needed a drink. He needed to walk past that table and pretend like he hadn’t just spaffed his load thinking about you and your stupid pretty face and your soft body being nice to him.
‘Morning sunshine,’ Butcher chimed as he headed for the fridge, ‘or should I say morning wood?’
‘The fuck you talking about?’ Soldier Boy asked, plucking a beer from inside. He didn’t know what time it was, didn’t really care though he saw your eyes flick to it with disapproval like you were his fucking mother.
‘You were moaning in your sleep again,’ you said, again another layer of disapproval.
‘You know, I’m starting to think I should be concerned about how often you watch me sleep,’ he mocked.
‘Hard not to when you’re humping away like one of those dogs that gets the spray bottle,’ you retorted.
‘What were you dreaming about anyway?’ Hughie asked, as only he could given that Butcher and you just looked at him in disbelief for even daring to give Soldier Boy and open goal for vulgarity.
‘Oh, you know. Faceless broad with big juicy tits,’ he lied, smirking at Hughie as he took a long swig of his beer.
You scoffed from behind your laptop.
‘What’s the matter, princess? Jealous?’ he asked leaning against the counter and earning a begrudging look filled with contempt because you hated the nickname and he liked riling you up.
‘Of a couch cushion?’
‘It’s seen more action than you have lately,’ he countered with a smirk.
‘Are we only counting faceless furniture? Because in that case, you’re right.’
‘Actually she had a face. Well, she had a mouth, I know that,’ Soldier boy teased.
‘You’re disgusting,’ you huffed.
‘Prude.’
‘Pig.’
‘Now, now you two, don’t make me get a spray bottle for the both of ya,’ Butch said, with that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.
You huffed and went back to your laptop. Soldier Boy pretended that his dick didn’t twitch when he saw you roll your eyes and then stalked off down the hall, in need of a cold shower.
You started typing again but you could feel their eyes on you, Butcher’s amused, Hughie’s awkward.
‘What?’
‘Nothin’ it’s just one of these days you’re actually going to have to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck him,’ he said, smirking as he brought a cigarette to his lips.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ you replied though it lacked conviction because when you glanced at Hughie even he looked like he didn’t believe you.
‘Alright,’ Butcher chuckled, ‘but when we need a new couch, you’re the one payin’ for it.’