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jeewrites · 13 days ago

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I was not calm at all about this new chapter, dear reader.

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter Eight: Adrift

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: After the mystery behind the letters is revealed, Joel is there to pick up all the pieces.

Chapter Warnings: language, lots of nasty arguments, some mild religious guilt, angst, fluff, soft!joel, alcohol consumption, hurt/comfort, soft smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, reader has long-ish hair, Joel can pick her up, pregnancy talk

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist

"How could you?"

The words flew past your lips like spitfire. About a hundred other things to say filled your mind, but those won because honestly — you needed to know. You needed to know the answer. Why? Why would they do something like that to you? The people you were meant to feel safest with in the whole world betrayed you so viscerally that you simply had to know... why?

Your mother was crying. She could see you slipping away, second by second. Maybe she felt regret, but you didn't care to find out because it didn't matter. Not to you. Not anymore.

Your father, on the other hand, was not taking you seriously at all. He rolled his eyes and laughed dryly at both you and your ever growing hysterical mother.

"Dad!" you yelled, face warming with anger. You stared daggers at him through tear filled eyes. "Answer me!"

"Alright, alright, both of you calm down for a second," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Your skin was practically on fire from the rage burning within you. The more casual he acted, the angrier you grew.

"Listen," he said, picking his glass of bourbon back up to take a sip. It took everything in you not to reach out and smack the glass out of his hand. "I know it seems drastic, and you won't understand right now, but we did this to help you."

"Help... me?"

Each word passed between tightly clenched teeth. Your fists shook at your sides as you waited for him to elaborate.

"You're brainwashed, honey," your dad said. His tone made you feel like he was talking to a child, like he was trying to water something down so you could understand. "He's got you all wrapped up and confused. He paid you to be with him, and he convinced you that he's in love with you, but men like that—" You father waved a hand in the air and scoffed. "Men like that only care about one thing, and it ain't you. It's money. It's greed. You're just another thing for him to own. And he's got you so twisted up, you're becoming just as bad as him."

"Greed and lust are sins," your mother blubbered behind him.

"Yeah? So is wrath," you spat, "go ahead and add it to the list because I am never going to forgive you for this!"

"Don't say that!" she wailed.

Your father collapsed into the couch with a grunt, still acting dismissive of your sniffling mother trembling next to him.

"You'll see. One day, you'll understand," he said quietly, staring into his nearly empty glass. "We're trying to save you."

"We— we hardly even recognize you anymore," your mother added in between whole body sobs.

You angrily spun to tower over them both, veins so hot with anger you were starting to sweat.

"How would you know? How would you possibly know what I'm like?" you all but screamed. "You don't even know me! You don't visit, you hardly ever call, you never cared about anything I was interested in!"

"Because the things you're interested in are silly!" your father shouted back, making you flinch. "Coming out to California to make it in the entertainment business, be serious! We wanted you to do something respectable and grow up! And instead, look what happened! You ran out of money and the first thing you do is—"

"Stop!" your mother screamed, cutting your father off before he could say something truly unforgivable. Your dad huffed, muttered under his breath, and stood. He pointed at you, glass in hand.

"When he leaves you for some younger model in five years, don't come crawling home to us."

"I would rather die than ask you for anything, don't worry," you snapped, hearing your mother gasp when the venom left your mouth. Years as a detective taught your father how to hide his emotions, but you knew him. You saw the twitch in his eye, saw the bourbon in his glass shake — you were getting under his skin.

"We j-just wanted him to leave you," your mom whimpered from the couch. Your gaze flickered to her tear soaked face. "We weren't going to do anything! We thought he'd— thought he wouldn't risk damaging his— his business—"

"Well, you were wrong." Your voice was steadier. Harder. You took a small step forward and with an icy glare, added, "Because he actually loves me. Which, I guess, is too wild of an idea for either of you to comprehend!"

Your mother began to ramble incoherently. She was trying to defend their actions and explain why they found it so difficult to understand Joel and his lifestyle, but you were hardly listening. What was the point? There was nothing they could say or do to make what they did any better. But to your mom's credit, she was still trying to make things right.

Your dad, on the other hand, knew when to call it quits. Being the man he was, he always had a terrible habit of shutting down whenever the possibility arose that he was wrong. You always chalked it up to being a detective — if it was possible he got something wrong on a case, he couldn't ever let it slip, or else it would ruin months of hard work. However, on that particular day when he ignored you and stood to refill his glass? At the minibar inside the room you and your future husband paid for?

Nah. He was just a fucking asshole.

Without even thinking it through, you crossed the room and snatched the bottle out of his hand before he could pour. He looked at you and the utter shock on his face had pride blooming in your chest.

You weren't a child anymore, and you got the feeling in that moment, he finally fucking got it.

"Get out."

Your mother's voice came to an abrupt stop behind you when the words left your mouth. Your father just looked confused. So, you said it again.

"Get out."

"The hell are you—"

"Joel paid for this room," you seethed, gesturing around the comfortable villa. "I helped pay for this room. Now I'm asking you to leave."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "It's already paid for and our flight leaves tomorrow. Calm down."

"I don't give a shit! Go sleep at the airport!"

Your mother sobbed your name and you felt her hand on your shoulder, but you quickly twisted away and headed for the door, bottle still clutched angrily in your fist. It was more of a power play than anything. Really kicking them out would have been more effort than it was worth, and all you wanted to do was go back to Joel. You had wasted enough time and energy on them.

As you stormed through the kitchen, hellbent on putting the entire debacle far behind you, you breezed past an ornate wooden desk that housed a closed laptop, some chargers, and a few other odds and ends. But what made you pause were a few familiar looking white envelopes and stationary sitting right out in the open. But a small business card on top was what set your teeth on edge.

You turned back to them, your mother cowering and acting like a victim next to the couch while your father, still frozen in place behind the bar, stared at you with the card pinched between your fingers.

"You went through my things."

They didn't say anything at first. Then your dad sighed and shrugged.

"I was packing your office up when you moved," he said, "you had a mess on your desk. I was cleaning it all up and, yeah, I found her card. I thought to myself — now, why on earth would my daughter have a business card for a woman specializing in luxury matchmaking? I wasn't even sure what it meant, but I had an idea."

You were clenching your jaw so hard, you were beginning to get a headache. But you still ground out, "So you called them under a fake name."

Maybe it was the liquor, the late hour, or he was just tired, but your dad finally seemed to level with you.

"Yeah. I called and asked about you. So what? I was looking out for you."

You rolled your eyes but bit back the snide remark at the tip of your tongue. One thing you learned from your father was to stay silent when you wanted to find something out. People naturally feel the need to fill the silence, and the more they talk, the more you learn.

So that's exactly what you did.

"They run a tighter ship than I thought, so I had to do some digging of my own. Called up an old buddy of mine and got him to pull some info. After looking into some other clients, it became pretty clear what you got yourself sucked into. God forbid a father tries to save his little girl from a man who's willing to pay her for sex. But I can promise you this, honey—"

He took a step forward and pointed a lazy finger in your direction.

"—This will all set in and soon enough, you'll realize your mistake. You'll realize we were just looking out for you, and you'll thank me."

You shook your head slowly. Your molten hot rage dissolved into disgust and hardened over. With a calm, deep breath, you looked them both square in the eye, making sure they were truly paying attention when you said, "Never contact me or Joel again."

The journey back down to the lobby was a blur. You probably looked like a psycho with your puffy, tear-stained face clutching a half empty bottle of bourbon. You were too shaken up and forgot to text the driver to pull around to the front, but you didn't care. You figured you could use the short walk to clear your head, anyway.

The air was thick and muggy when you stepped outside. There were storm clouds rolling in off the ocean and in the distance, you saw a crack of lightning.

Fitting.

There weren't any guests loitering around, so at least you had some privacy to quietly cry as you wandered around the parking lot, searching for the town car.

Luckily, you didn't have to walk for very long. The driver was leaned up against the sleek black car, lit cigarette in one hand and phone in the other. When he heard your footsteps, he glanced up, then did a double take. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and pushed off the vehicle, concern etched across his face as he hurried over to you.

"Miss? Are you okay?"

You nodded and shook your head at the same time. Were you? You had no idea.

"C-Can you take m-me—"

You didn't need to finish your sentence. He ushered you into the backseat of the car and jumped into the driver's seat.

The entire ride back to The Parador, his eyes constantly flickered to the review mirror, checking on you while you sipped mindlessly from the bottle of alcohol and stared blankly out the window at the palm trees bending and dancing in the strong wind.

It was closer to midnight than you thought by the time you arrived, but you knew Joel would have stayed up waiting, probably wondering why you didn't call or text with any updates.

Just picturing the look on Joel's face when you broke the news to him was enough to make your stomach turn. It had you wishing you had just texted him instead, but he deserved to hear the truth from you directly, regardless of how you felt. You owed him that much after what your parents put him through.

Apparently he expected bad news because when you opened the door, you caught him pacing nervously around the villa with a palm rubbing the back of his neck.

When the door clicked shut, he quickly swiveled around, hand dropping down to his side. There was a brief flicker of relief when you returned, only to be replaced with anguish when he saw your face.

"Hey," he breathed, closing the distance between you in four long strides. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, and kissed the top of your head. He knew you so well that it broke your heart. He didn't know what happened, he just knew what you needed, and he never hesitated to give it to you.

The tears came back then, just in time with the rain outside. They streamed silently down your cheeks and soaked into his thin white tshirt while he just swayed you both back and forth, patiently waiting for you to explain.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed, over and over. He shushed you, gently plucked the alcohol from your hand, and led you to the couch where a box of tissues sat on a table in the corner. He left you only for a second, just to grab the tissues, and returned faithfully to your side.

"I should've went with you," he said tightly, chastising himself. You blew your nose and shook your head.

"No, it would have been so much worse. Trust me."

He waited silently while you gathered yourself and wiped away your tears. Then he glanced at the bottle.

"Should I have some before you tell me what happened?"

You tried to smile, but you just couldn't. Your head was throbbing, your eyes felt like sandpaper, and your heart was shattered.

He took a sip directly from the bottle as you dragged a shaky breath in. And because you were cowardly, you stared down at the ruined tissue in your hands instead of his eyes when you said, "It was them. They sent the letters."

The silence stretched thin between you as Joel processed what you said, the only sound coming from the rain hitting angrily against the windows surrounding you. You stared at the pool, watched the way it lit up when there was a flash of lightning, then braced yourself for the inevitable clap of thunder. Meanwhile, Joel was connecting the dots, same as you did just an hour before, fitting your parents into each scenario and rehashing every conversation until it made sense.

"How'd they find out?"

"My dad found Renee's business card when they were helping me move," you admitted, the guilt at being so careless practically tearing you in half.

"Shit," he murmured, then he sighed and grabbed the bourbon again.

"Smart idea bringin' this."

He took a bigger swig that time while you sniffled next to him.

"Quit hogging it," you lightly scolded, taking it from his grip and bringing the bottle to your lips. Joel rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes as you drank, allowing the warmth from the alcohol to relax you into the couch.

"You up for talkin' 'bout it or you wanna wait til the morning?" His hands fell tiredly to his lap and he tilted his head to look at you.

Your shoulders sagged and you passed the bottle back for Joel to take another drink. A particularly loud gust of wind pushed the lounge chairs a few inches outside.

"They thought they were saving me," you began, sadness lacing every syllable. Joel blinked and slowly brought the bottle back down. "They found out about the agency and thought I was in over my head... brainwashed, he said."

You swiped roughly at the corner of your eye while Joel sat quietly next to you, listening and taking the occasional drink.

"They said they don't recognize me anymore. That I've changed since being with you. And—"

Your throat tightened and you could feel the tears springing back up, burning the backs of your eyes and breaking your heart all over again.

"—T-they think you don't love me. They... they sent the l-letters so you would leave me."

You buried your face in your hands and a second later, Joel's arms wrapped fiercely around you.

"That ain't true," he said gruffly. "I'd never leave you — ever. Y'hear me?"

"I know," you sobbed, "I know, I know."

"Then why're you cryin'?"

You couldn't get close enough, so you circled your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder. His familiar scent usually helped calm you, but it wasn't enough after the horrible evening you had.

"Because," you sniffled, "I hate that they did this to you. That they — they put you through all this stress over something so stupid. Especially after everything you've done for them. For me."

"Baby," he cooed in your ear, rubbing your back soothingly as he spoke. You nuzzled a little closer, shifting so you were nearly sitting in his lap. "All I care 'bout is you. I'd do anythin' for you. Anythin' to make you happy. Nothin' and no one else matters."

You smiled against his neck and turned so you could peek up at him through your lashes.

"Should you add that to your vows, too?"

He grinned and tugged your leg, pulling you over so you straddled him.

"Feels like I'm pretty good doin' it off the cuff. Maybe I'll just wing it."

"Don't you dare," you whispered before pressing your lips to his for a gentle kiss.

He broke away and tilted his chin up to look you in the eye. You smiled sadly and dragged your thumb over the bruises along his jaw and cheek.

"These are looking a little better."

He grunted in response, more concerned with the way your smile was slowly sliding from your face.

"This wedding's going to be a disaster," you said, voice trembling. "And it's all their fault."

"It ain't gonna be a disaster."

"Yes, it is," you whimpered, face crumpling at the thought. "How am I going to explain to all those people why my parents aren't there?"

Joel sighed and tucked a stray hair behind your ear while you squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears.

"You really don't want 'em there?" he asked gently.

"No!" Your voice wavered but you had never been more certain. "They would ruin it and I don't want them to take one more thing from us. Especially this."

Joel sighed, his chest aching at the sight of you so broken. He cupped your face with both hands, trying to catch each tear that fell.

"What can I do, baby?" he asked softly. Your whole body slumped forward, as if the despair was physically pulling you down. "Huh? What can I do?"

Truthfully, you had no idea. There was nothing either of you could do to fix it.

"Can you tell Nadia?" You fell forward to rest your head on his shoulder and you could feel Joel nodding before you even finished your request. "I just don't know how we're going to restructure the ceremony now without my dad walking me down the aisle." Then the more you thought about it, the heavier the pit in your stomach grew and the faster the tears came. "Oh, god, and the speeches. And the dances! How are—"

"What if we get married on the beach, instead?"

Your tears and thoughts all came to a screeching halt.

"Wh-what?"

"Tomorrow. Let's get married tomorrow, just me 'n you. On the beach."

You lifted your head to look at him, assuming he was joking, but when you saw his face you realized he was entirely serious.

"Joel," you laughed, tears still blurring your vision, "we can't. We invited all these people—"

"We'll still do the reception in a couple months like we planned. Just make it one big party. No ceremony, no speeches, no toasts, none of that bullshit. No pressure, just... havin' fun with the people we love."

He looked up at you so earnestly, his wide, brown eyes boring into you, searching your face for any inkling that his insane suggestion was landing. It left you completely stunned for a moment, like the wind got knocked right out of you. He was serious.

You planted your hands on his shoulders and raised an eyebrow, like you were bracing yourself for him to take it back or say he was joking. But it never came.

"Joel... we can't..."

But even you heard it in your voice. You were caving.

"Why not?" he pressed, sitting up a little taller and pulling your hips closer in his lap.

"Because... we..." Your drying eyes trailed around the room as if the answer would be somewhere nearby. Why couldn't you? Who could stop you? Then your gaze drifted above Joel's head, to the painting Ellie made — a replica of the one you had back home, of the pink seashells you fell in love with while you were also falling in love with Joel — and suddenly, you couldn't think of a single excuse.

"It can't be tomorrow," you said, attention snapping back to Joel. "I want Sarah and Celine to be there."

A huge grin stretched across his face.

"We'll call 'em first thing and I'll send the plane."

"And we have to ask Tommy, too," you added, excitement bubbling up now that the plan was beginning to form. Joel couldn't stop smiling.

"What 'bout Zoe?"

You nodded, head bobbing enthusiastically. "Then that's it."

"That's it," Joel echoed. "Just four people 'n us."

"What about your parents?" you asked, your excitement waning when you discovered your first roadblock. But Joel just gave you a look and shook his head.

"They don't care 'bout shit like that," he scoffed. "I still ain't convinced they're gonna come to the reception, they fuckin' hate traveling almost as much as they hate weddings."

"But you're their son," you protested, feeling guilty.

"Baby," he cooed, "I know 'em. They won't give a shit."

You considered it for another second before thinking fuck it and grinned.

"Are we really doing this?" you asked, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. It was the happiest you had looked since the brawl in the lobby and it made Joel's heart soar.

"Yeah. We're doin' this." His arms tightened around your waist and he tilted his chin up with a matching smile of his own. "I'm sick of not bein' married to you, anyway."

You cupped his face with both hands and slanted your mouth over his, pouring every ounce of affection you had into the kiss. The pain left in your heart and the tension rolling through your body disappeared when it all began to set in: you were getting married soon.

"This is crazy," you giggled when you came up for air. Joel shook his head, his mouth eagerly chasing yours.

"I don't care," he whispered before your lips met once again.

Your hands slid from his jaw to his hair, fingers tightening around his curls as he deepened the kiss with a quiet groan. You swapped traces of bourbon from both your tongues as he pried your mouth open with desperation, like he was trying to get as close to you as possible. And you hadn't even realized it, but your body was searching for the same — your hips had begun to roll, grinding down in his lap, chest to chest, unable to tear yourself away.

He squeezed your waist, pulled you forward, and bucked his hips up, all while your tongues danced and noses bumped together like you were trying to swallow each other whole.

"Christ," he grumbled impatiently against your mouth. "Take these off."

His hands tugged angrily at your shorts, clearly frustrated he had to contend with the thick fabric separating you.

Your feet hit the ground and you gave him one last hungry kiss before pulling away to stand and shimmy out of your shorts and panties. Your chests heaved in unison while he worked on his own clothes with shaky hands. When all that remained was his shirt, you climbed back into his lap while tossing your bra somewhere behind you.

He let the hem of his tshirt drop in favor of cupping your breasts with both hands and burying his face between them, so you helped him finish the job by lifting the shirt up and over his head. He detached himself from your chest only for a second, just to rid himself of the last of his clothes, and then he was back, licking and nipping at your soft skin while his thumbs dragged across your nipples until they hardened.

"You're the most beautiful goddamn thing I've ever seen," he said before swiping his tongue over your nipple. Your hand cupped the back of his neck and you held him there against your chest, his praise getting lost in your curves.

You smiled and tipped your head back, eyes falling closed while Joel left small bites across your breasts. Between your bodies, his cock twitched. Almost like a reminder, not that you needed it. You rolled your hips forward and gasped when you felt the thick weight of him slide through your folds.

"Joel," you pleaded, voice sounding pathetic to your own ears. He smirked, released your breast from his mouth with a sharp pop, then leaned back to look up at you.

"Need it bad, huh?" he teased with a lazy grin.

You couldn't even deny it. You did need it, needed him. You needed to forget the last twenty-four hours ever happened. You needed him to make the hurt go away. But mostly, you just really needed to show him how much you loved him for somehow verbalizing the solution to all the wedding woes you had been struggling with for months.

"The next time you fuck me, we'll be married," you said, lifting yourself so he could take his cock in his fist. You watched him give it a few lazy strokes before holding it still at the base. His eyes snapped up to yours like you slapped him.

"What if we can't find anyone to marry us that fast?" he asked as you shuffled forward on your knees. "What if I wanna fuck you tomorrow?"

You grinned, feeling the blunt head of him nudging at your opening.

"You'll figure it out."

You lowered yourself slowly, taking him inside you with a sharp gasp. Through hazy eyes, you watched his head drop back against the couch. A low groan tore from his throat as a couple more inches disappeared and didn't end until you sat flush in his lap. You felt his cock twitch, deep and warm within your soaked walls, and your head fell forward, already feeling like you were floating away.

You cursed under your breath and pressed yourself closer — chest to chest, mouth ghosting over his shoulder — before rolling your hips forward, ever so slightly. His pulse was racing, you could feel the steady flicker in his throat when your lips brushed gently against his skin.

"Joel," you whispered, grinding slowly in his lap. His arms circled you, holding you close, knowing how badly you needed to just feel. It wasn't a race, it wasn't driven by hunger — at least, not the kind that usually was shared between you. It was deeper than that.

"Yeah, baby, I'm right here." His palms skimmed your bare back, his touch gentle and loving. Your breath caught in your throat at his soft tone and your eyes fluttered closed when one hand got lost in your hair. You tucked yourself deeper into his hold as you began to ride him — still slow, just gentle little lifts of your hips, barely allowing an inch of him to leave as you moved.

The hand in your hair tilted your head to the side and then you felt the scrape of his mustache against your neck. You sighed and allowed him to make little adjustments as he licked and sucked at your skin until he pulled your head back so he could kiss you. It was slow and soft, the way his lips pried yours apart to make room for his tongue. It was desperate, but not in the way you were used to, and it had your heart aching deep within your chest.

Despite the slow, calm, gentle way you moved, your body reacted all the same. You could hear the wetness that leaked down his shaft every time you pressed your hips down and it made your face warm. Every time your chest bumped against his, your hardened nipples dragged across his skin, sending a jolt of arousal right between your legs.

Joel murmured your name after he broke the kiss and your swollen lips parted greedily for air while his own dragged down to pepper wet kisses along your throat. The heat was nearly stifling between your bodies, hot skin knocking against hot skin, yet you still wanted to be closer. You both craved a connection so intimate, so encompassing, that you would do anything to achieve it. It was likely the reason why Joel was urgently trying to gain your attention, your name falling from his mouth louder and breaking through the fog in your head.

"Hm?" you managed to hum.

But your eyes were closed and your jaw was open, too lost in how deep he was and how complete you felt. You could already feel the intensity building in your stomach, like a volcano ready to erupt, and it felt so unlike the other times that it had you shuddering in his arms.

"—look at me."

His voice sounded different. Not bad, not angry, and not like he was about to come — but different. It was enough to snap your eyes open. When you saw the look on his face, so vulnerable and open, eyes all wide and brows soft as he stared up at you, you froze.

He smiled then, just one corner of his mouth pulled up as he loosened his grip on your hair to tuck a piece behind your ear.

"Been tryin' to tell you somethin'," he began slowly, "but timing's never been right."

You blinked away the last of your haze and focused solely on his voice.

"Okay," you breathed.

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed. His gaze drifted all across your face, eyes flickering every which way. He was nervous. It caught you by surprise.

"I wanna—" He cut himself off and forced himself to look you in the eye. "I wanna try again one day. For a baby."

Your throat instantly tightened. It hurt to swallow, like something heavy had settled right against your windpipe, and your eyes slowly began to fill with tears. Joel saw your lower lip wobble and he quickly cupped your face.

"When you're ready," he clarified, the pads of his thumbs brushing soothingly at the corners of your eyes. "But if it ain't somethin' you want, that's okay, too. I just—" He gave you a small smile and the first hot tear rolled down your cheek. "—Just thought it'd be nice. We got so much love to give... and I — I wanna experience that with you."

You found yourself nodding, unable to form any words around the emotion stuck in your throat. A relieved smile tugged at his lips and another tear slipped down your face.

"Yeah?" he whispered in disbelief. You nodded again, that time more frantically, and his eyes turned glassy. He pulled you down for a feverish kiss so you couldn't see his tears, but you felt the wetness pressing against your skin, mixing with your own. You started to move again in sync with your mouth, each swipe of your tongue matched a slow roll of your hips until his hands fell to your waist and your breaths grew shallow.

"I love you," you whimpered against his lips when you finally found your voice. He exhaled shakily, his hot breath skimming across your throat. You couldn't be sure if it was the heaviness of the moment that caused it, or the way you felt so warm and wet, pulsing around his cock every time your hips shifted forward, but either way it sent a shiver down your spine.

"I love you, too, baby," he murmured in return. You tilted your chin up and closed your eyes with a soft moan when he began to lift his hips, matching your slow movements across his lap with his own. "You're all I need," he added, teeth grazing your collarbone as he spoke. "All I need to be happy. Just you. 'F you change your mind 'n you don't wanna try—"

"I won't." Your head rolled forward and you opened your eyes. He was gazing up at you, a few dried tears from earlier fading and melting away, blending in with a thin sheen of sweat that was coating both your bodies. "I won't change my mind. I — I want that. With you. I..." You sighed and dropped your forehead to press against his, the thick weight of his cock momentarily stealing the air from your lungs. "I want it all... with you."

His mouth lazily sought yours out, brushing against your swollen lips like a signature on the dotted line — a done deal. Then his hands tightened around your middle to help take the pressure off your tired, burning thighs. Very gently, he lifted and lowered you, up and down. You closed your eyes, sticky foreheads still pressed together and sharing the occasional wet, messy kiss until that heat built back up inside you.

"Joel..."

His name sounded so desperate on your tongue. A rough sound slipped past his lips and his fingers tightened, gripping and moving you a little faster in his lap. You gasped when he dipped his mouth lower to suction around your breast, his hot tongue gliding over your left nipple.

"So beautiful," he murmured quietly while he switched his attention to your right side. His teeth scraped gently against your breast and a flash of goosebumps broke out across your skin. "'N all mine, ain't that right?" he added before planting a wet kiss to your nipple and tilting his head back up. When your eyes locked — his nearly black with lust in the dim light of the sitting room — you found yourself nodding obediently.

The corner of his mouth lifted up into a smile. Then his hips shifted upwards with more force than before, knocking the air from your lungs with a breathy moan. His warm hands squeezed and pressed your hips, pulling you forward and back in his lap a little faster, a little harsher, until the tip of his cock pushed against a spot inside you that had your spine curling and your eyes squeezing shut.

"That it?" he asked softly, then did it again. Your mouth fell open, releasing a filthy sound from deep within your chest, and he chuckled to himself. "Yeah, that's it," he muttered.

Everything got hazy. Your vision began to swim, your muscles tensed up, and your blood was surging so fast in your veins that it was drowning out Joel's grunts and moans underneath you.

He was moving your bodies faster, but not nearly as fast as you were used to. He wasn't snapping his hips ruthlessly against you and he wasn't yanking or pulling your body up and down his shaft. His thrusts were slower, but calculated. Strong. Forceful. He wanted to keep you close, he wanted to keep his lips and hands on you as he pushed you higher and higher. He wanted you both to really feel it: every inch, every second, every breath.

You whimpered his name again and curled your arms around his neck. The tension in your belly was so strong that tears blurred your eyes. You blinked them away so you could watch Joel's face when you sucked in a sharp gasp and clamped down around his cock.

Your orgasm rolled through you like the storm outside: sudden, intense, and loud. You ground down, rubbing your clit against the base of his shaft, all while holding eye contact.

You watched his brows pinch together and his eyes widen when his movements grew unsteady, desperately holding on until you finally fell forward, relaxing against him with a deep sigh.

He groaned in your ear as you tiredly lifted a hand to get lost in his hair. Your body draped over him like a blanket, the side of your head resting on his shoulder, chests stuck together by sweat, and you watched his face contort as he came. You could feel his stomach seizing as he filled you up, moaning softly while clutching you fiercely to his front.

Your body shook in his arms when the air conditioning kicked on, cooling your hot skin while you both fought to catch your breath. His trembling hands skirted across your back, his gentle touch causing you to jolt violently in his lap. A soft noise slipped past your lips and you tucked yourself further into his hold, nuzzling against his flushed chest with a sigh.

Your eyes met, both heavy with sleep, and he smiled. One hand slid up to the back of your neck and the other wrapped protectively around your ass. You braced yourself because next he lifted you with a grunt and carried you through the door to your bedroom.

He lowered you carefully to the bed, planted a kiss to your forehead, and slowly eased out of you. Your face pinched for just a moment at the loss before relaxing again and closing your eyes. You felt the cool, soft sheets being draped across your body, then a moment later the mattress shifted and the warmth from Joel's body was enveloping you once again.

You turned onto your side, closing your eyes with a satisfied hum, then snaked your arm around his waist. He did the same, pulling you closer to his chest so you could hear the steady thump thump thump of his heart as it slowed.

"I can't wait to marry you," you whispered sleepily.

He said something else, something too quiet for you to hear, and then you slipped into a deep sleep, finally feeling at peace.

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