Status: Short Story
What A Night
One
Their fingers interlock subconsciously as they lay silently in bed. Steady rhythms are created by the rain outside of their home. For the past few days, all Owen and Rory have done is stay in bed with each other; just talking. It's all they really can do, what with the heavy rain. Thick, pillow-like blankets cover their shivering bodies and their lips touch in the most gentle way.
"Marry me," Owen demands spontaneously, not having the slightest notion of the words he just uttered. Rory is snapped back to reality at the two words her boyfriend just spoke to her.
"What," she manages to get out in her flustered state. His blue eyes connect to her green ones and a small smile forms on his face. His hands massage her upper arms.
"Yeah. Marry me," he begins. "Ror, we've been together for over a year. I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know that I do not have a ring, but when have we ever done anything traditionally?" She giggles.
"I'll marry you," she whispers, connecting their lips once more. As they sit up, his hands drift toward her cheeks, holding her in place and their lips mesh together perfectly. The kiss once was romantic and soft, but soon became much more. Tongues soon tasted each other and wrestled for dominance. Rory's back met with the soft bed and Owen hovers over her, keeping their lips together. When Rory gasps for air after awhile, Owen does not want to stop touching her. He craves her touch. His lips attach to her neck, randomly biting there at times and letting his tongue graze occasionally to get a rise out of her. Her fingers comb through his disheveled locks as small moans escape her involuntarily.
"I love you," he breathes against the skin of her neck. He does not give her time to respond when he attaches his lips to hers. His tongue forces her mouth open and they fight for dominance. Reaching lower and lower, his hands massage her hips lovingly. Just like his hands, his lips, too, travel lower and lower. Soon, she is left in just a shirt, and his lips gently kiss the inside of her thighs. She cannot help the moans escaping her when his tongue stroke her sex. As his tongue slides into her, his hands massage her breasts. The volume of her moans increases when he sucks lightly on the bundle of nerves.
"Oh God," she breathes, "Owen…" He smirks and chuckles causing her to groan as the vibrations send shocks throughout her body.
"Yeah?" he whispers, his warm breath making her body convulse. Her legs spasm and he lap up her juices.
"Just… fuck… me…" she demands breathlessly.
His smirk grows and he crawls back up to her. He kisses her, letting her taste herself before he says, "Thought you'd never ask, sweetheart." He sheds himself of his clothes and positions himself in front of her entrance. "Ready?"
"Don't you dare be nice now, babe," she whispers desperately. He laughs and slams into her. Screams and groans echo through the house. "Oh dear God…"
Owen grunts as he repeatedly slams into her; harder and harder, faster and faster. "Oh Ror, dammit you feel amazing." As her climax nears, her screams and moans only get louder and his pace increases.
"Fuck," she yells, drawing out the word. "Damn… I'm close." Owen's thrusts get sloppier as he reaches his climax.
"Come on. Let it go, baby," he whispers in her ear and his hand reaches down and rubs lazy circles on her clit to help her orgasm. As they both reach their peak, Owen collapses onto her, not even bothering pulling out. "God, I love you, Rory."
"I…" she tries to get out, but finds herself attempting to find her breath. "I love you, too." She strokes his face with her shaking hand, and kisses his soft lips once more before sleep takes over their bodies.
"Marry me," Owen demands spontaneously, not having the slightest notion of the words he just uttered. Rory is snapped back to reality at the two words her boyfriend just spoke to her.
"What," she manages to get out in her flustered state. His blue eyes connect to her green ones and a small smile forms on his face. His hands massage her upper arms.
"Yeah. Marry me," he begins. "Ror, we've been together for over a year. I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know that I do not have a ring, but when have we ever done anything traditionally?" She giggles.
"I'll marry you," she whispers, connecting their lips once more. As they sit up, his hands drift toward her cheeks, holding her in place and their lips mesh together perfectly. The kiss once was romantic and soft, but soon became much more. Tongues soon tasted each other and wrestled for dominance. Rory's back met with the soft bed and Owen hovers over her, keeping their lips together. When Rory gasps for air after awhile, Owen does not want to stop touching her. He craves her touch. His lips attach to her neck, randomly biting there at times and letting his tongue graze occasionally to get a rise out of her. Her fingers comb through his disheveled locks as small moans escape her involuntarily.
"I love you," he breathes against the skin of her neck. He does not give her time to respond when he attaches his lips to hers. His tongue forces her mouth open and they fight for dominance. Reaching lower and lower, his hands massage her hips lovingly. Just like his hands, his lips, too, travel lower and lower. Soon, she is left in just a shirt, and his lips gently kiss the inside of her thighs. She cannot help the moans escaping her when his tongue stroke her sex. As his tongue slides into her, his hands massage her breasts. The volume of her moans increases when he sucks lightly on the bundle of nerves.
"Oh God," she breathes, "Owen…" He smirks and chuckles causing her to groan as the vibrations send shocks throughout her body.
"Yeah?" he whispers, his warm breath making her body convulse. Her legs spasm and he lap up her juices.
"Just… fuck… me…" she demands breathlessly.
His smirk grows and he crawls back up to her. He kisses her, letting her taste herself before he says, "Thought you'd never ask, sweetheart." He sheds himself of his clothes and positions himself in front of her entrance. "Ready?"
"Don't you dare be nice now, babe," she whispers desperately. He laughs and slams into her. Screams and groans echo through the house. "Oh dear God…"
Owen grunts as he repeatedly slams into her; harder and harder, faster and faster. "Oh Ror, dammit you feel amazing." As her climax nears, her screams and moans only get louder and his pace increases.
"Fuck," she yells, drawing out the word. "Damn… I'm close." Owen's thrusts get sloppier as he reaches his climax.
"Come on. Let it go, baby," he whispers in her ear and his hand reaches down and rubs lazy circles on her clit to help her orgasm. As they both reach their peak, Owen collapses onto her, not even bothering pulling out. "God, I love you, Rory."
"I…" she tries to get out, but finds herself attempting to find her breath. "I love you, too." She strokes his face with her shaking hand, and kisses his soft lips once more before sleep takes over their bodies.
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