Archive of Our Own

When he had seen her walking down the road as he retrieved her stepmother's vehicle he was elated. What perfect timing. But at the moment she turned and saw him it had gone downhill. He sat miserably in the front seat as she berated him, obviously stressed over the police presence at school. And then she essentially stabbed him in the heart when she reminded him of her plans that afternoon. 

“Turn right on Hawthorne,” she commanded. “Turn here-” she repeated but he ignored her, driving further down the block before slamming on to the brakes and angrily shifting the vehicle into park.

“What?” She cried out, and he turned to her, heart breaking. 

And then she proceeded to blame him for their situation, forgetting her own role in it, it seemed, and then insulted him before demanding that he deliver her to another man's arms. 

“Take me to Michael's,” she said, turning to face the road.

The rage that he normally felt for other people, those that hurt her or disrespected her or threatened her, bubbled up inside of him - though admittedly not as intense. It was acid green jealousy, bone crushing despair, and frustration over the boy and her unwillingness to deter from the choice to offer herself to him. It was anger too - anger that fate had brought him back this way, unable to talk and missing the parts that he would need to please her in the way she wanted. Anger at himself for not making his feelings for her clear, for not wooing her well enough to stop her thoughts from returning to the boy… And anger at Lisa, despite his love for her, over her short words and blame and how she couldn't seem to see he was right in front of her, so full of love for her that it made him sick.

She waited as he simply stared, his face twitching in a mix of emotions that she couldn't name exactly but that simultaneously made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and excited her - the way it did when he killed Janet and took the ax to Doug.

“Well,” she said motioning to the road in front of them, " let's go.”

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. Making a feral growling sound in the back of his throat he reached out as she turned to him with her eyebrows raised, grabbing her by the shoulders and upper arms and hauling her towards him.  Pulling her halfway across the center console he smashed his mouth against her's, kissing her hard, putting all of his frustration and desire and dashed hopes behind it. He had obviously been too reserved and had, up until this moment, squandered the opportunities presented to him to actually show her how much he wanted her, how much he loved her, and there were only minutes left between them and Michael's front door. She was going to understand the depth of his feelings for her and the absolute frustration the past day had been, knowing what she was planning to give away to someone else. He would make sure of it.

When she had motioned for him to go she saw something in his eyes change, and he lowered his head looking up at her from beneath his brows. And then he growled, almost like an animal, and she barely had a moment to process how terrifying that was before he had grabbed a hold of her and yanked her across the seat, his mouth crashing into hers. 

She was in shock. He was always quiet and considerate. He treated her like something breakable and precious. The perfect gentleman. This was not gentle. His hands gripped her harshly at the shoulder and he slanted his mouth against hers, nothing about it romantic or sweet but desperate, harsh, and needy. 

She pushed against his chest with both hands but he was sturdier and more substantial now since his last trip to the tanning bed and she barely budged him, only creating a few inches of distance between their mouths. His eyes flashed and she swallowed, opening her mouth to take a ragged breath and ask him what the hell was going on but at that moment he dug his fingers into her shoulder a little harder and pulled her back in just as she opened her mouth to question him. And then he slipped his tongue between her lips, and plundered her mouth ruthlessly.

When she pushed away he felt bereft, and then frustrated anew. Did she not understand? He saw her begin to question and knew she didn't. How could she still not understand ? He had no words he could speak, so he yanked her back in, determined to show her exactly what he was trying to say. Her mouth was still slightly open and he only hesitated a moment before pressing his tongue in, his lips sealed against hers, tasting her for the first time. He groaned in her mouth, unable to help himself, the feeling of her wet tongue against his and her hands on his chest changing from shoving to gripping on to him tightly spurring him on.

“Oh,” was all she could think as she was lost to sensation. It wasn't what she thought her first kiss would be like. It wasn't chaste or sweet or innocent. It was hard and hot and full of frustration and anger - but also there was so much want there. She felt dizzy realizing that it was directed at her, that he wanted her this way. It wasn't the kiss she imagined - it was so much better. 

Her skin was on fire, every hair standing up on end, and she was tingling everywhere. She had just begun to relax into it, getting lost in the feeling that his tongue in her mouth was causing when he stopped.

Finally he pulled back, not letting go of her shoulders but holding her in place to look at her- determined that she was going to understand. She blinked for a dazed second and he shook her shoulders slightly wanting her to look him in the eye. When she did he saw that she was surprised, a little shocked, but she understood. He sighed, sliding his hands up from her shoulders to her cheeks, brushing each them over her cheekbones softly, never breaking eye contact with her.

“You…” she said, struggling to put the emotion she had felt into words. He just stared at her with his deep green eyes piercing into her, his black hair falling into his face. He didn't look chagrined or sorry. Just intense.

Suddenly she was angry. She knew he had kissed her hand that first night he had shown up, but after that he had never tried again. Not after his ear, not after the hand, not even during…she thought about the massager and her anger spiked but her sex throbbed. Had he felt this way then? And still said nothing? Did nothing? Why?

He expected her to look confused and he hoped that maybe she would look happy, but he didn't expect this level of anger. And then she was shoving the middle console up out of the way, climbing over the seat and dragging him back to her, shoving her mouth gracelessly against his in a desperate attempt to kiss him again. His brain short circuited for a moment. 

This was not the reaction he had expected. He had expected some sort of conversation - either one that would break his heart or see him elated. He hadn't expected for her to angrily kiss him back, her teeth clacking against his in her furious attempt to press closer, too shove her own tongue back into his mouth.

He only hesitated for a moment before grabbing her by the waist and hauling her further across the seat onto his lap. It was awkward, one of her legs stretched across the console and the other on his side of the seat. She was slightly up on her knee that was perched precariously between his legs, suddenly leaning over him by several inches.

Neither of them noticed or cared about the awkwardness, and it looked as though they were trying to devour each other: mouths biting and sucking, tongues dancing in each other's mouths, across lips, moans and harsh panting that surely would have fogged up the windows if they hadn't been rolled down. She grabbed the collar of his shirt to keep him in place while she ground her mouth against his and he slipped his hands up to the back of her neck,i tilting her head the way he wanted. After moment she pulled back with her chest heaving.

“The whole time?" she said, and he nodded, bringing her back in and trailing kisses and his tongue along her jaw and down her throat, nuzzling, desperate to get closer. This is not how he ever imagined acting with her in public, and not for their first kiss,  but he couldn't shove these feelings back down now that they had been let out. He felt wonderfully out of control.

Lisa shoved him back and his head hit the seat. Her eyes blazed ice blue. “The whole time,” she ground out, “and you didn't do anything??” she asked angrily and he looked at her incredulously. 

Prior to a minute go it was quite clear from their first encounter that she didn't want him that way. She had done nothing but talk about the boy and moon over him. She gave no indication that any of his own feelings would be reciprocated, calling him a friend at every opportunity. He gripped her hips hard and gave her a low groan, a warning sound, but she didn't seem to notice. 

She shoved a finger into his chest hard. “We could have been doing this,” and at ‘this’ she poked him, “the entire time and you didn't say anything?”

He practically growled at her and she paused, shrinking back a bit. He was beautiful and terrifying when he was angry. 

Slowly and very deliberately he took her hand in his, holding it the way he did at their introduction. The way he did when she asked him why he was there, their first night in her room. Maintaining eye contact with her he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his face still pulled into a snarl. “ Had she forgotten that she had refused me ?” he wondered angrily.

As he mimicked his motions from their first introduction she realized that with his green stare he was trying to tell her something. He was making a point. She snatched her hand back and pushed at his shoulder, angry and embarrassed and having been called out. “But you never asked again,” she said, “you never said anything else about it.”

Emotions flashed over his face as he motioned to his useless mouth. “You know what I mean,”  she huffed, " you had just crashed through the window and chased me around the yard. You would have still looked like Swamp Thing If you hadn't run through the sprinklers. I didn't know what you were, who you were -  of course I said no.” She poked his chest against, saying “you didn't think to ask again at any point when we were dragging dead bodies around or I was sewing parts back on you? You were just going to drive me to Michael's and give me away?” she asked, hurt and angry. 

“How dare she,” he thought and then saw red. He pulled her the rest of the way into his lap, as close as he possible with one hand holding her hip steady and the other tangling in the back of her hair and pulling, yanking her mouth to his. He bit her bottom lip hard and then moved to her jaw, his teeth scraping a path down before biting it just enough to hurt and sucking. She would never leave him. Wasn't it obvious? He was never letting her get away. Before he had made his feelings known he could have potentially buried them kept them inside and lived out the rest of his miserable life in silence but not now, not ever again. He had kissed her, tasted her, and she was his. 

Lisa's eyes rolled closed and she knew she should be indignant at how she is being manhandled - but it felt so good that she could do nothing but sit there and let him bite and suck bruises onto her neck. She realized what he was doing. He was marking her. He was saying that she was his.

Not wanting the feelings to stop but also not wanting a giant hickey on the side of her neck, she tried to shove him back again. He held on tighter, his teeth almost breaking the skin on her neck right on the edge of the sheer fabric. She cried out involuntarily and it only seemed to make him more adamant to bruise her, and he sucked harder. 

Lisa found herself trying to grind down against his lap, suddenly very, very aroused. She had been anticipating her visit to Michael's all day, had romantic visions of slow, lingering kisses and tan skin and golden hair and slowly being made love to. Now she was stretched across the lap of her creature, perfectly undead and devoted to her and apparently wanting her desperately all his time, rutting against him in the cramped front seat of her dead stepmother's BMW. And it was amazing. But her tulle skirt itched her thighs, and she couldn't find the friction she desperately needed at that moment.

He noticed immediately that her hips were moving, trying to find purchase against him and he had a moment of panic, realizing that the thing she was on her way to do with that stupid boy was something he still couldn't provide her. He was still incomplete. The thought made him angry and frustrated at fate, not Lisa. But she was the one that was here and he took it out on her mouth, moving up from her neck to her lips in a bruising kiss.

Lisa finally pulled her left leg over the console and then sat with his knee resting in between her thighs. Giving a small sigh she rocked forward on his leg, groaning as she finally found what she was looking for. She reached up and pawed at the necktie he had acquired from somewhere, distantly noting that she didn't recognize any of the clothing he was wearing. She grew more and more frustrated as she had to unravel it, pulling back from his mouth with a frustrated huff to look at her progress, wondering why the hell it was so long. 

His hands gripped her hips as she rode against his leg and he watched. Any embarrassment that she would have normally felt burned

away by her frustration and indignation and desire. And heat. With the air off, the car was stifling and she was all in black. When she finally had the tie unraveled, the yards of fabric trailing down either side of this chest, she reached up and deftly began unbuttoning his collar. She leaned forward while she worked and sucked on his neck, moving down as his skin was revealed to her. 

He groaned, feeling her tongue on his cold skin. It was like liquid fire moving over him and he was delirious with the contrast of it. He grabbed her hips harder, part of him realizing that he could be bruising her, and lifted his knee up - pressing it tighter in between her legs and dragging her back and forth forcefully with his hands. She pulled away from his chest, crying out, her blue eyes searching his. He let go with one hand to reach up and twist her hair around it, forcing her to meet him halfway in another bruising kiss while he directed the motion of her hips.

Lisa tried to move her hips with him, desperate for more; she leaned back to find a better angle and leaned right into the steering wheel. The loud screech of the horn cut through the small space, and they shot apart in surprise.

 Each of them stared at the other with wide eyes. All she could think is that this was not how she expected the afternoon to go. She thought she was going to offer herself to Michael, and instead she was forced to realize that her friend who'd been here the whole time was actually the one who wanted her all along. And he was full of surprises.

He was thinking that this was it, that she had to come to her senses and realize just how ungentlemanly he had been, how he had manhandled her, and she would open the door and throw herself from his lap, leaving him alone. He wanted to be gentle, and in all of his fantasies had worshiped her like a supplicant. But when confronted with the pressing reality that she was going to give herself to another, when forced to watch her not understand what he was desperately trying to communicate again , when confronted with her accusations - his desire and anger and frustration bubbled to the surface at once and he couldn't control it. He never imagined being so rough with her, but she didn't seem to mind at all. And so he thought there would be no harm in indulging. But now he was sure he'd pay for it. 

They panted, each waiting for the other to say something. It was Lisa who spoke first, but not before launching herself back at him, kissing him desperately on the mouth. She pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes - “back seat,” she said and then reached over to shove the console down and began squirming over it.

He watched confused and more than a little amused as her tulle skirt, puffy and ridiculous, flew up and her bare legs dangled in front of him for a moment before slipping into the back seat as well. She turned around and righted herself. Cheeks flushed red, skirt pulled up past her knees and surrounding her like a black cloud, she raised an eyebrow at him impatiently. “Come on,” she demanded.

He realized suddenly that she didn't want them to stop. She wanted to continue this somewhere with more space. But there was no way that he was going to be able to slide into the backseat as she had. He all but threw himself out the driver door, slamming it shut and scrambling for the handle of the passenger door. Yanking it open and leaning in with his hands on the car seat. He looked like a predator. 

He narrowed his narrowed eyes and then he reached out and grabbed her by the ankle and drug her towards him across the back seat. She slipped down until her head was on the upholstery, her left leg bent at the knee and her right leg on the floorboard. A part of her wanted to be embarrassed at her position - legs spread, him leaning in between them. Before she had time though he was crawling into the back seat, on top of her,  and slamming the door shut.

He thought about her enthusiasm and the excited noises she made in the front seat and he played this on a loop in his head to distract him from his feelings of horror at his immodest actions, how rough he was being. Sitting between her legs he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, licking the seam of her lips open with his tongue. She responded immediately, gripping his hair hard tugging him closer, biting his bottom lip till it nearly drew blood - or would have if he still bled. 

He wanted to touch her but the damned dress nearly covered everything. He tried to palm her breast through the velvet, but the top was too thick for her to truly feel it. She pressed back against him, but he couldn't ring the delicious sounds she made in the front seat from her.  He groaned, frustrated again - he would hear those sounds again.

Lisa felt him trail his hands down over the scratchy tulle of her skirt, down to her knees and slowly, slowly, slowly up again. His hands were cold, and she was burning up from arousal and the heat and the dress, velvet and polyester making her sweat uncomfortably. His hands on her skin felt amazing.

He marveled in the feeling of her creamy legs, her thighs, as he slowly climbed upwards. It was as though he were having an out-of-body experience, as though he were in his grave again and incorporeal - watching the world around him. He could scarcely believe that he was kneeling between Lisa's thighs inching closer to her sex.

“Please,” she thought, feeling as though she were going to pass out at how hard her heart was beating and how desperate she was for him to touch her. She was shell shocked at how quickly everything had progressed - 2 minutes ago she was demanding he drive her to Michael's and now she was a puddle of want in the back seat, her hips moving on their own accord, desperately rising and trying to meet his hands.

When he reached the edge of her panties she bucked up and pulled his hair, only to have him press down into her with a bruising kiss, where he sucked her bottom lip while he traced his fingertips along the edge of her underwear. She panted, wiggling, and he brushed his fingers over them in delicate swipes up and down with just the pads.

“Please,” she said desperately out loud this time and dug her nails into the back of his neck, wanting him to touch her properly. He groaned, not believing what he was hearing and seeing and feeling. It was too perfect to be real.

 He pressed his fingers harder against her, still rubbing slow swipes up and down, kissing her until she pulled back to takea ragged gasp.  He was spellbound, watching her make tiny pleasured grunts, rocking her hips into his hand. With his thumb he rubbed firm circles against her now soaked panties, causing her hips to stutter before she closed her eyes, grinding upwards on a desperate attempt for even more contact.

He brought his left hand up, grabbed her chin and turned it to the side before latching on to her neck again, not caring that the thin mesh was in place, and sucking her skin through it. Lisa yanked the tails of his shirt out of his pants and removed the last few buttons, sliding her warm hands around to his back. She drug her nails down, leaving a little welts in their place and he couldn't stop himself from rutting his hips forward despite having nothing to work with. The phantom sensations and the pool of desire in his belly caused him to groan in frustration. He doubled the effort of his ministrations, pressing his three middle fingers against her and increasing the speed of the circles he was rubbing into her. He was rewarded with a broken moan which only caused him to increase the fervor of his attentions.

Lisa was panting, sweat pooling in her back and behind her knees. She stopped all motion, straining in anticipation as he traced a finger along the edge of her panties, then slipped it underneath the band.  She realized then how wet she was - he slipped and slid smoothly against her slick, and she could hear him moan as he felt it too. 

He could barely believe what was happening, couldn't believe how ready she already was - his finger gliding along easily with the evidence of her desire. He used his thumb, running it up and down, pressing a little harder until he found the swollen nub at the top of her sex. He swiped back and forth more firmly across it and was rewarded with another broken cry from Lisa, her nails sinking into his shoulder blade. He gave a demanding groan and she looked up at him, only for him to increase the pressure and speed of his strokes once her eyes made contact. 

They fluttered close in pleasure and he stopped suddenly, groaning at her again she realized that he was demanding something. Demanding that she looked at him while he did this. She nodded, letting go of his back with her right hand and reaching out and tangling it in the black netting across the back of the passenger seat. She gave a little nod and he increased his speed even more, flicking back and forth against her clit mercilessly. It took everything in her not to close her eyes and she knew she had to look ridiculous - mouth falling open in a series of hot pants and moans and her eyes forced wide in order to keep the eye contact he wanted. But it felt so good - his fingers gilded back and forth perfectly, and his intense stare only made it feel better. 

He thought she was beautiful, the blue in her eyes almost electric, the pleasured painful look on her face addictive.  He pulled back and listened to her little disappointed moans before slipping his middle and pointer finger up and down, spreading her wetness even more before locking eyes with her and gently slipping the tip of his middle finger between her folds, pressing into her very, very slowly. He had been rough before, but didn't want to pinch or hurt her now -  and he wanted this desperately but he wanted her to want it as well. He wouldn't do anything that she said no to. 

Lisa could have swooned at the feeling of this finger slipping into her. She did this herself often enough, but his hands were bigger, his fingers thicker. As soon as she realized that he was waiting to hear her reactions, she nodded her head vigorously and he pressed forward, sliding in to the first knuckle and wiggling gently. She ground against his fingers, moaning,  and then he added the second, pushing forward slowly,burying them inside of her with his palm resting against her sex.

She moved her hip slightly, wanting him to trace his fingers along the inside of her. He was a quick learner. He was a musician after all. With one hand pressed against the back of the seat to keep him upright as he leaned over her, he flicked and rubbed and slid - figuring out exactly what she liked, where inside of her he needed to touch to make her eyes flutter and then open again, trying to maintain eye contact like he had asked. He slid slowly, deliciously back and then pressed his middle and pointer finger together upwards as he slid in again. 

Lisa keened at the sensations, squeezing her eyes closed, unable to help herself. He allowed it, enraptured by the absolute pleasure in her face. She removed her hand from his back and gripped his shoulder using it as leverage to press herself down onto his fingers, wanting him to do it again. 

When she still didn't open her eyes though, he leaned forward and bit her shoulder, sucking on it through dotted fabric until she shrieked. He pulled back, his nose just barely brushing hers and gave a low groan, pumping his fingers into her as he did so. He stayed like that, face close to hers, staring at her eyes as he pumped his fingers back and forth, watching she writhed desperately. 

He felt something in him snap at the look of pleasure on her face and, pulling back, he reached underneath the yards of tulle and grabbed at her panties, pulling them down. He wanted to taste her. 

She almost kicked him in the face as they tried to disentangle them from her boots and he settled for relieving them from one foot and letting them dangle around her ankle on the other. Reaching down he scooted as far back against the passenger doors he could and then, sticking his hands beneath her, he lifted - grinning as she gave a little cry of surprise. He could barely see her eyes over the mountain of black tulle, but as he lifted her hips and lowered his face she realized what he was about to do. He kept eye contact, waiting to see if she refused or said no. She just watched him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, barely able to believe this was happening. She wanted it too much to be embarrassed at where his face was, at her thighs already wet, at the way the car suddenly smelled like sex.  Her skin felt too tight and all she wanted was for him to make her come. 

When she gave a short little nod he took it as permission and buried his face between her legs. 

He had died. He had finally died and gone to heaven. That's what this was. The smell of her, the taste of her. He moaned into her cunt, licking a stripe up the middle and listening to her strangled gasp. His fingers dug into her backside as she flailed for a moment before finally shoving her left foot up over the back seat headrest and into the dash, trying to spread her legs as wide as possible. 

She thought distantly that she hoped no one drove by or saw them. There was absolutely no way to explain away or deny what they were doing - especially when they were in the backseat, an undead boy with his face between her spread legs. When they had both been laying down and his fingers had been buried in her they had been a little more hidden - but now he was sitting up and her back was arched as he brought her up to his face and ate her. Another distant part of her that wasn't completely overcome with pleasure laughed at the idea of a zombie eating her out -  and then he stuck his tongue inside of her and her vision whited out and she stopped thinking about anything else except the exquisite feeling he was causing between her legs.

He paid attention, listening. She preferred slow licks with pressure against her swollen numb and fast light tickling licks around her opening. When he sucked gently on her it was too much and she tried to pull away.  He lifted her right leg from the floor and threw it over his shoulder for extra security as he let go of her ass with one hand, instead using it to bury his middle and pointer finger in her up to the hilt, continuing with the steady swipes of his tongue.

The moan that it rung from her was worth the strain in his other arm. He realized that it wasn't the thrust that she necessarily preferred, but the friction of his fingers against her walls - specifically pressed up. He focused on this, giving slow steady pressure, rubbing back and forth as he licked and flicked and ran his tongue over her greedily.

Lisa cried out, grinding down against him as much as she could given that one leg was up inside the back dash and the other over his shoulder. He flicked his tongue against her clit and then ran it flat and hard over it, and she let out an even louder cry, one hand still tangled in the netting of the back seat and the other reaching up to try and cover her mouth so no one would hear. He stopped suddenly and before she could look down to see what had happened he turned his head and then bit her inner thigh, not hard but enough to sting before laving his tongue over it. She made eye contact over her skirt and he shook his head no. 

She felt herself grow even warmer and wetter, realizing that he wanted to hear. He didn't seem to care if anyone else did and he didn't seem to care if they got caught. All he seemed to care about was this moment - and then he buried his face back between her legs. 

The wet, delicious sounds of his mouth on her would have been embarrassing if she had had the ability to feel embarrassed in that moment, but all she could do was ride the wave of shocks and tingles and pleasure he was causing to course through her.  At some point he moved his hands from shallow thrust to a tight circle inside of her, rubbing hard against the spot he had found and she let out a deep, gutteral moan that she couldn't stop. It was amazing.

He startled and pulled back looking up at her at the raw sound she made. Then he did it again and watched her completely break apart. 

He couldn't maintain that motion and keep her hip suspended in the air. He felt her legs shaking and lowered her back down to the seat, his fingers still buried in her as he leaned up so he could watch her face. And then he repeated the motion, faster and harder - shallow, barely there thrusts and circular rotations against the top of her walls. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen as she lost control of her responses, moaning and mewling while her hips bucked.

The sound was obscene. Wet sucking noises filled the car as he drove and shook his fingers in her. Some distant part of her was horrified to hear the sounds coming from her body and realizing the mess she must be making. She could feel her thighs were wet, could feel wetness leaking down across her ass, and could feel herself sliding in it when she thrust her hips, her own slick starting to cover the seats. But the other part of her was too wrapped up in how fucking good it felt to be bothered with embarrassment. 

She lifted her hips up greedily, wanting more, but more what she didn't know -  just more. Lisa could hear herself making desperate noises, her hips rolling, trying to counter thrust into his fingers. “More,” she mumbled, pleading, sounding wrecked.

He was grateful at that moment that he didn't have his manhood. He would have finished in his pants before he could satisfy her if he had - the feeling of her soft, slick, hot, wetness throbbing around his fingers, the vision of her thighs spread wide, her hips rocking up to meet him, her mouth open with her eyes rolled back, feral groans rolling from her lips as she begged.

When she moaned ‘more’ he hesitated only a moment before brushing a third finger against her opening, pressing it in slowly, carefully stretching her even further. She bucked up to him desperately, trying to get the same depth again, but he held her hip down with his other hand. He had been rough up until this point, but he didn't want to hurt her - he had to open her up slowly. She had already tightened around his two fingers, clenching them, and as he finally worked the third in she gave a pleased groan. 

He paused for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly. Her red curls were plastered to her forehead and the side of her neck. He sat back, looking at her white thighs and then pink flesh of her sex wrapped around what was still visible of his fingers. She was beautiful. 

He pumped his fingers once, twice, and watched her hips writhe beneath him, the noises escaping her mouth driving him crazy.

He couldn't take it -he leaned forward and slid a hand beneath her head pulling her up to him as he ravaged her mouth again. She was almost limp in except for her hips trying to meet the pumping, rubbing motion of all three fingers inside of her. She kissed him back earnestly at first, realizing she tasted herself on his lips as her teeth nipped at his mouth. But when he redoubled his efforts she let her head fall back.

Lisa couldn't do anything except feel. Her little cries became louder and more rhythmic and he could feel her tightening around him. He wanted desperately for this to be him inside of her, not just his fingers, but he tried not to think about that, knowing it was useless. 

He had been so demanding, so rough, and she had responded in a way he hadn't imagined. But he needed her to know that this wasn't just desperate passion. He slowed his fingers down and smiled a little and she gave a frustrated whine. He only moved them gently in small little circles and nudges inside of her until she barely opened her eyes and looked at him, obviously confused and frustrated. 

He reached out with his left hand and took her right. Maintaining eye contact with her he brought her hand up rapidly to his mouth and kissed it right above the lightning bolt he had drawn there a few days previously. Another kiss - like the first one he'd given her, and then one to mimic it in the front seat earlier. Her eyelids fluttered and he took the hand and pressed it to his bare chest, right over where his heart would be if it still beat. 

He knew the moment that it registered what he was telling her because her eyes immediately began to water and she took in a ragged breath. She slipped her hand from his chest up his neck until she was cupping his cheek. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears and she traced his mouth with her thumb and then nodded at him, giving him a beautiful smile.

He thought his heart would burst. Groaning desperately he pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her reverently. Beneath her skirt he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers, wanting to make her break apart. “I love her, I love her, I love her,” he thought. He wanted to do this for her so badly. 

Lisa was completely overwhelmed. She realized suddenly that it wasn't just that he loved her, it was that she loved him. She had shared so much of herself with him, she killed with him, and stitched him back together. She had hurt him too, and he had still stuck by her - and that realization made her heart ache. He loved her. He loved her more than anyone else and she was completely overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through her. And then when he sped up his efforts between her legs she was overwhelmed by pleasure. 

She could feel her orgasm building stronger than anything she ever had before - all of her muscles tightening. Her legs almost felt like they would cramp from how tight her muscles clenched and she could feel herself nearly sobbing from it, the feeling of being loved and the pleasure he was giving her wringing every emotion out. 

He reached down, one hand still buried in her and thrusting against that spot inside, and the other now furiously rubbing tight circles across her clit. 

Lisa couldn't take it anymore. Her heart was overfull, her cunt was overfull, every muscle in her body ached from how being clenched and the heat of the car made her feel like she was suffocating. If she didn't come she was going to pass out. It was as painful as it was wonderful.

She vaguely registered that her hips were bucking wildly, and then every single muscle in her body seized. It was like cresting a wave - the slow painful, aching buildup to the top pulling a sound from deep down in her that started a a low pitched moan then peaked as she did -  turning into a sobbing wail as all of her muscles spasmed. She could feel her thighs shaking with the force of it, her body twitching, and she thought her heart was going to stop. She sobbed through it, completely undone.

He watched it all as she was overwhelmed, crying out and sobbing with the force of it. Her muscles clamp down on him so tight he could barely move his fingers inside of her, could really only wiggle them slightly. He felt the moment that she came, her muscles releasing and then clenching tight in fast, desperate spasms. He rubbed inside of her throughout it, marveling at how her body seemed to try and suck him back in every time he pulled back. He noticed there were tears on her cheeks, her wail turning into choked cries and moans. As she rode her orgasm he leaned dow carefully, kissing the tears from her cheeks while his fingers still worked her, plucking every note of pleasure from her.

She opened her eyes, her breath coming in labored gasps, and she still shook but smiled at him. He moved his fingers gently inside of her still, and she gave off the quieter moans. 

He stopped when he felt her muscles relax into sporadic throbs. When he finally slid his fingers from her she grabbed his collar with both hands and pulled him down until their foreheads rested against each other. After a moment of breathing in each other, of being close, she pushed him back just enough to brush the tip of her nose against his. 

“I love you too,” she said and he froze, eyes wide. Obviously he knew that she understood his declaration and hoped that her nod had been one of reciprocation and not just understanding. But he hadn't been sure. To hear her say it -‘

She smiled and reached up, kissing him softly, the gentlest kiss they had shared since this started. He felt choked with emotion and could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes. He couldn't do that. He couldn't have his filthy, disgusting tears drop onto her after what they had just done, couldn't see the revulsion in her face after he had just made her come apart. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly.

 Lisa watched him be overcome with emotion, and then realized that he was about to cry. He looked frustrated and sad, squeezing his eyes closed to stop the tears,  and she reached up and nuzzled the side of his neck, trying to distract him. She placed soft gentle kisses over the places she had bit and sucked, soothing them. While he was collecting himself she reached down, wanting to touch him, wanting to make him feel just as good as he had made her. 

With his eyes closed he didn't realize what Lisa was doing. The pants he had stolen from the old man were too big, and it was only the bracers that held them up. Lisa didn't have to unbutton them, but simply slid her hand down into them before he realized what was happening. 

Her hand brushed against where his manhood should be and his eyes opened suddenly to find her looking confused as she brushed her fingers across the slightly healed wound between his legs. He threw himself away from her, but with her hands still trapped in his pants all he did was take her with him.

Lisa found herself being dragged across the backseat of the car as he was suddenly scrambling to get away from her. She was confused. There was nothing. 

He yanked her hand out of his pants, throwing it from him and backing into the corner of the passenger seat on the opposite side, eyes wide, his face wounded. Suddenly she understood. He was still missing pieces, and unlike his ear and hand and tongue this was something he was too embarrassed to tell her about. This was probably one of the reasons why he hadn't made his feelings for her known earlier she realized.

He looked like a caged animal, all of the power and desire that this face held just a few moments ago gone. He moved to reach for the door knob.

“Wait, wait!” she said, throwing herself on him, grabbing his hands and trying to pull him away from the door. All she could think was that he was going to leave. He didn't struggle, the fight gone out of him, and she gripped his wrist tight, her hands over the stitches that she had sewn into his flesh. She realized suddenly that her skirt was still up around her hips, her bare ass against the seat, and she had streaked a wet line from where he had pulled her in his attempt to escape. She tried to sit up a bit, forcing him to look at her.

“It's okay,” she said and he scoffed and looked at her before turning his body and looking out the window, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He obviously did not think it was okay.

“You don't need that to be a man,” she said and he looked surprised. “We can do other things - it doesn't change anything.” She realized the error in her wording - “It doesn't change how I feel," she said and stroked both of his cheeks with her thumbs. She leaned forward, brushing her nose against his again. “It doesn't change how I love you” she emphasized.

He gave her a beautiful shaky smile,  overwhelmed with the fact that his deficiency didn't send her running - especially given what they had just done. But he knew she was telling him the truth.  But it wasn't okay with him. He didn't feel complete. He wanted to make love to her that way. He turned his eyes from her and looked out the window.

Now that Lisa had been forced to realize that she had been oblivious and missing all the signs that were there, she was much more attentive in watching his reactions. She realized that while he was relieved she still loved him, he didn't feel complete. He didn't feel like it was okay. He wanted this. He wanted to be whole.

And suddenly she had an idea.

“You know,” she said and he turned to her confused by the sly tone of her voice. “I do know where we could get one,” and she raised an eyebrow him, biting her bottom lip through her smirk. 

He blinked at her for a moment, uncomprehending - and then suddenly it clicked. Where they have been going prior to this.  He grinned widely, all teeth, and pulled her in. 

“What do you say?” she asked that he nodded, kissing her again and again and again -  this time the way he had imagined, reverently and softly and full of feeling.

Lisa kissed him back, each one of them mentally planning how they were going to do this, and the steps they needed to take to get away with it. Another part was already fantasizing about what they were going to do with it once they were finished, their blood already rising again. 

“Let's go,” Lisa said between kisses, and they slid from the back to the front seat, on their way.

Two blocks over Michael was unlocking his front door, Taffy behind him in a filthy sweatshirt and tears streaking her face. He had hoped to hook up with her at some point, but didn't anticipate she would be this upset, or look like this. He still wasn't clear on what happened. 

Suddenly there was a strange sound that pierced the air before they could make it to the front door. A guttural long cry, almost like a cat's yowl. They looked at each other and then looked around confused. 

“What was that?”  Taffy said.

“No idea,” he shrugged, “ probably some animal.” He took her by the elbow. “Come on,” he said, " let's get you taken care of.”

Grinning wolfishly he planned on how to get Taffy up to his room, while two blocks over Lisa and Creature made plans of their own.