coax
nc-17 | sexual content
He couldn't help but laugh as she tried to rip his shirt open, succeeding only in popping two of the buttons and smacking her right hand into the wall.
"You could have just asked," he quipped, flashing his dimples, but she didn't even seem to hear him.
"I'm tired of asking," she muttered, and he didn't have the foggiest idea what she meant. He was confused for the millionth time in an hour, so he tried to alleviate what tension had built up by doing what she had attempted: he tore open his shirt, sending buttons flying.
Unfortunately, one flew right into her face, just below her eye.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," she grumbled.
"No, no, no." After eight years, he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass them by. He took her hand, kissing her sore knuckles, and then gingerly pressed his lips to the red spot on her cheek. "It's never been a better idea."
"I'm not mad at you. It's not you," she whispered.
"I know," he said, even though he didn't. He hoped she was telling the truth. "Do I get to rip your shirt, too?"
A soft laugh. "Only if you want to explain to Aunt Barbara why it's ruined."
He was tempted, but he opted to carefully slide each button out of its slit. When his fingers brushed her breast, she shuddered, and he grinned. She was perfectly still as he pushed the shirt off her shoulders, as he undid her bra and let it join her shirt on the floor.
"Are you with me?"
She nodded, slender fingers easing his belt out of its buckle. His progress on her pants was halted when she slipped her hand into his pants, grasping him, stroking lightly.
"Bed," he urged her. He missed her touch as soon as she withdrew, but it was worth it to watch her strip her remaining clothing. Her skin seemed to glow in the faint moonlight that illuminated the room, and he snapped out of his stupor only when she crawled into bed and covered it up with a sheet. He quickly shed his clothes and joined her.
She squirmed underneath him as he cupped her breast, kissed her neck. When her nipple hardened under his palm, she took his hand and dragged it down between her legs. She hummed contentedly, the anger from before seemingly forgotten. He could have let it go, but it nagged his brain until -
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"It's not important," she moaned.
"It seems important to you."
"Josh, just let it ... right there." Her breathing accelerated. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. This low sound built up in her throat until he coaxed it loose and she let out a wail that was probably heard three rooms over.
"Whatever it is, maybe I can help. Maybe I can -"
"You can't fix it, Josh, so just fuck me already." She tried to guide him into her, but he held off, putting his weight on his knees and pinning her hands down.
"Is that what you think this is?"
"I screwed up at work, okay? It's not anything serious and I'm not going to get fired, but I'm still pissed at myself."
Relief flooded him, and he released her wrists. "Is that all? I usually screw up five times before lunch."
"Josh."
"I'm going to make love to you now, and I'm going to make damn sure you stop thinking about that." He eased into her; despite her urgency from before, she was a snug fit around him. The novel sensation threatened to break his resolve, but he focused on one of the freckles on the tip of her nose as he buried himself inside her. His whole world became that tiny brown spot and her wet, hot core until -
"Do your eyes always cross during sex?"
Her question caught him off-guard. He laughed and lost control, emptying into her. She smiled and kissed him, but he refused to accept defeat. He found the sensitive nub of tissue above where they were joined; while still inside her, he pinched it, rolled it between his fingers until she jerked and spasmed.
"I was staring at your nose," he panted.
"Don't tell me you have a nose fetish."
"Is that a deal-breaker?"
"Oh, definitely," she said. "Get out of my bed."
"That's going to be difficult, seeing as it's my room."
She smiled, her first real smile all day, and he silently congratulated himself as he reluctantly withdrew from her warmth.
(fin.)