Dedicated to TahliePurvis because she's the queen of wattpad and I love her stories :)

10

"Wow." Genevieve mumbled under her breath. We both had our gazes locked by the window where Stephen had just entered his car by the driveway. We watched his car pull away, the beam of lights from his headlights disappearing.

My best friend turned around looking down at the bouquet of flowers in my hands. He appeared here out of nowhere and after a thirty second conversation, possibly and shockingly the shortest we have ever had, he left with the promise to see me tomorrow. Like he was a boyfriend. Like he was anything to me besides the 'relationship' we had.  She plucked one of the colorful flowers with her manicured fingers, inspecting it. "Damn."

"Right?" I asked rhetorically, placing them on the kitchen counter. I tapped my fingers against the table, inspecting them myself before taking a seat from the tired and long day I had been having. 

"So, that date really changed things, huh?" She inquired. 

"I don't really know."I admitted.

"How has he been acting?"

"The same," I answered. "He only got me these because I've been feeling moody."

"Moody?"

"Like 'not in the mood for sex' moody." I clarified.

"I'm going to be honest but those flowers seem to indicate that he really wants sex."

"You think I don't know that?" I asked. That was how Stephen was. That's how we worked and if we didn't have sex, then what did we really have? 

"Why aren't you in the mood? You were in the mood like three days ago. I heard you." She muttered, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

"Heard and saw," I corrected. "You were the one that burst into my room like you didn't think that anyone was in there with me."

"I honestly thought he wasn't in there. I thought you were pleasing yourself."  I covered my face in my hands at her words and she laughed. "Oh, relax J. Masturbating isn't a big deal."

"I'm not talking about this now," I changed the topic quickly. "I want to eat."

Genevieve chuckled as I went to the fridge, trying to find something I could whip up quickly. She sat on the counter. "I'm not going to lie but you definitely got lucky."

"Huh?" I turned to see what Genevieve was talking about.

She had one of our long spoons in her hands, twisting it. "Wasn't he this long? I caught a glimpse and I'm pretty sure he was this long. Do you even care about the length? Is it the girth with you?"

"G, shut the fuck up." I told her, taking the spoon out of her hand and rolling my eyes.

She smirked. "Answer the question."

I grabbed two spoons and decided to get one of the tiny buckets of ice cream we had in the freezer. When I sat down beside her, placing the ice cream on the table, I scoffed. "You're horrible."

She took the spoon, opening the tub. "Am I?"

I took a moment, taking a scoop of the ice cream on my spoon and eating it. "It's the girth."

And days later I had the ability to confirm it after a interesting tumble from Stephen's floor, to the couch and then his bedroom.

His strokes were rough. His fingers left bruises on my body I didn't care for. His mouth left marks along my chest, my inner thighs, my neck, anywhere he wished to go. His kisses were hard and controlling this time. This side of him was the most interesting one. He could be angry, he could be happy, he could be solemn. It didn't matter. The roughness came out and the playfulness was gone.

He moved his hand to my breasts, cupping them with no gentleness in any motion he was making. He hovered over my body, keeping me in place with his hands moving from my waist to my hips. The way his cock felt inside me made my breathing choppy and overcome with the feeling of him and only him. And I took it.

I took it all.

And I listened to him whisper things in my ear that made me flush. My entire body felt uncomfortably hot and I on the verge of coming undone when he took both of my hands, pulling them over my head and held them against the mattress. I felt my body tremble with the third orgasm of the night and when I thought he would stop, he would hold out, he merely continued, gripping my hips tighter.

His groans that he held in I could hear, his eyes closing in pleasure at the clenching and throbbing of my sex. And I knew he was trying to drag another one out of me when his hand reached down and teased me there as if it wasn't enough. Because he knew I could handle it. He loved that I could handle it.

  I felt one hand slide down from my hip to the back of my thigh and squeeze, moving my leg up so one was hooked across his back for a better angle. I felt his mouth press against the shell of my ear as he continued his solid thrusts. "Tell me Juliana."

"Tell-tell you what?" I panted out, my eyes opening to meet his own.

"Tell me how this feels," He said huskily. "Us."

Good. Great. Perfect. No. Euphoric. Absolutely euphoric.

I let out a moan to express how I felt and he took that for an answer, his thrusts languid and sharp as he chased for his release.      

"Fuck," I heard him curse, moving his hips with mine for the last time before he let out a sound that came from the back of his throat. Before I knew it, that second orgasm hit me hard. My legs trembled and I felt my breath catch in my throat, my eyes almost rolling into the back of my head from the intensity.

Stephen groaned once more and I heard the mutter of the words, "I swear you're insatiable." before he took a deep breath, moving himself out of me.

It must have been the heat of the moment. Or it was possibly the fourth orgasm that he had managed to pull out of me leaving me so breathless and satisfied. Or maybe it was because I knew and have been meaning to say the words for weeks now. Three words. Three syllables. Eight letters.

"I love you."

"I know."

He didn't even hesitate with his answer. It left his lips in a whisper so quiet I thought I would almost miss his response. My ears strained to catch it. It was so soft almost like the breath he had let out after.

I felt his hand trace a pattern across my back but I was too distracted by his slowing heartbeat to pick out what he was writing with the soft pads of his fingertips. And we laid on that bed in silence for hours as I watched the late evening turn into night, the orange, red and purple skies fade into darkness and the main source of light emit from the moon above.

I listened to stillness of his breathing as he slept on through the night. I felt his arms tighten around me at one period of the night and I let my lips press lightly against the soft skin of his neck. But what I wanted from him was more than what had happened.

Redamancy.

The act of loving someone that loves you.

That was what I wanted and I questioned almost everyday if I was going to get it from him and him only.