Author's Note: Sorry it has been a long time. I have been caught up in work. But I really needed a break, so I wrote this.
It takes place after Chuck Versus Phase Three. Again, there will be sex. Avert thine eyes if that's not your thing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
She couldn't stop looking at him. Almost as though she was checking to make sure he was still there next to her, that this wasn't all a dream, and he was still in Thailand somewhere strapped to a chair, having his brain scrambled by a madman and his creepy scientist.
But he was here. After a week of scouring what felt like the entire planet for him, she had found him. With Casey and Morgan's help, Chuck was home. And he seemed to be alright for the most part.
They kept him in the infirmary at the CIA base in Hawaii for one night and monitored his health, his brain especially, attempting to gauge how much the Belgian's experiments had affected his mental state. When they'd determined there was nothing to worry about except for an insignificant amount of memory loss, he had been rereleased into Sarah's hands and they flew the five hours back to California, all of which he spent sleeping off the trauma from the past week.
And now here they were, walking into the courtyard of their apartment complex, their home, Chuck's feet dragging and his shoulders slumped, but relief playing on his features. And Sarah couldn't help but think about how a few days earlier, she'd feared she would never see him standing here in front of their home, fumbling with the keys in his jeans pocket before tugging them out.
Sarah reached out to take the keys from him, gently bumping him with her hip. "Let me do it."
"You've already done plenty, Sarah." His hand was so warm and comforting on the back of her neck and she wanted to turn and fall into his arms and never let go.
After they pulled him out of the jungles of Thailand, things had happened so rapidly that she had yet to get a chance to really hold him. She felt desperate and needy for wanting his touch so badly, but she had been so close to losing him. Much too close. So close, she'd nearly given up hope. So close, she'd poured her heart out while stroking his slack face. So close, she thought that kiss was going to be their last kiss. And when he'd opened his eyes…
Her knees almost gave out as she replayed that moment in her mind, but she focused on slipping the key into the lock and opening the door.
"Hey, uh…Don't we have a debriefing or something with Beckman?"
"Tomorrow." She walked in, turning on the light as he followed after her. "Casey and Morgan are getting everything squared away at Castle."
"General Beckman didn't want—"
"I made sure the general agreed that you deserved one night at the very least where you weren't at the government's beck and call." She shut the door and locked it, letting her bag slump to the floor by the entry table and stepping out of her boots. She felt a little anger spike at the realization that they would have made him debrief immediately if she hadn't pushed for some time. And after everything he had been through.
But then she turned to look at him again. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except that he was here in the flesh. He was okay. Tired and beaten up, and maybe a little flummoxed. But okay. And when his brown eyes lifted to her face, she saw they were swimming with emotion, and her legs felt like rubber.
Instead of falling to the ground as anyone else might, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and squeezing so tightly she was worried she might hurt him.
But she couldn't loosen her hold. Not when it felt so amazing to hold him again, to have him in her arms, in one piece, without electrodes attached to his head, without that foggy look of confusion and pain and terror.
Sarah didn't move, not even a bit, except to press her lips against his neck. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, the relief almost too much for her to handle. And the realization that if she'd been only a minute later, it might have been too late. He might have been gone, the Chuck she knew and loved more than anything else in the world nothing but a shell of a man sitting in that chair…
The tears fell down her cheeks as she felt his hands shift against her back and pull her in closer.
She didn't say anything because she couldn't. Her voice was gone, her chest bursting with emotion, a bubble of hurt lodged in her throat. She had saved him. But what if she hadn't?
There was no use thinking like that. Because Sarah would die first before she'd lose Chuck. And she thought she'd proven to everyone, General Beckman included, that she wasn't going to stop until he was safe. She didn't stop until he was safe. And she hadn't slept either.
Not even last night when she knew Chuck was no longer in the slimy grasp of the Belgian's ponytailed scientist. She'd asked to stay with him and they'd forcibly removed her from the entire wing. She'd regretted making Casey and Morgan fly straight from Thailand to Los Angeles, knowing Casey would have growled and scowled and intimidated the doctors to complying and letting her stay with Chuck. It had been too late for that though, and she'd sat alone in a small room they'd given her to sleep in, her cot hard and cold. Even if it had been like the luxurious bed in the hotel in Paris where she'd made love to Chuck the very first time, she wouldn't have slept. She'd been more tired than she'd ever felt in her life, and she'd sat there anyways, waiting for morning, waiting for them to escort her back to Chuck's side.
He'd looked so miserable.
She sniffled loudly and swallowed, nuzzling her nose against his skin, letting him hear her soft crying finally.
Chuck didn't say anything. Not a single word. He just held her, one hand on the back of her head. And when he pressed a kiss to her temple, she finally felt like she could pull back just a little. Just enough to look him in the face while still being wrapped up in his arms.
Sarah took a deep, calming breath, then leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It had been so long since she'd gotten to do this…well she had kissed him before he woke up, but he hadn't exactly responded to it.
Because she was a firm believer in communicating without words, Sarah kissed him again, a little harder this time, and pulled back so that the only place they were touching was where she'd grabbed his hand tightly in hers.
And then she led him through their home. Instead of going straight to their room, she ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She had a feeling they could both use it at the moment. Not that they were particularly filthy—they'd both had showers that morning in Hawaii—but there was something about a hot shower that eased muscles and made you want to crawl into bed and sleep for years.
She could see Chuck was still suffering from the memories of what he'd gone through, reliving whatever it was that he had seen in his Phase Three induced nightmares. He'd awoken three separate times on the plane, jolting awake with fear on his face, and only when she put a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her had he breathed easy again.
Sarah turned from the shower to look at him, seeing that he'd knelt down to untie his sneakers, toeing them off and kicking them aside along with his socks. And then he just stood there, shuffling his feet a little, the fatigue and pain still in his wrinkled brow as he smiled quietly.
The room was filling with steam as she smiled back. Chuck was perfectly capable of undressing himself, but it was evident he was hoping she might dote on him a little. She knew he was more than grateful for what she'd done to bring him back, for tearing apart the whole Asian continent until she found him. And she knew he thought she'd already done enough for him, too much maybe. She hadn't. There would never be such a thing as doing too much when it came to protecting Chuck.
But she had noticed throughout their romantic relationship that Chuck Bartowski was the type of boyfriend who enjoyed a bit of nurturing, if that was the right word for it. He didn't require a maid or a nurse or someone to wait on him. It wasn't that. But when he had bad days, she'd learned that he responded to attention. He was bolstered by her putting a comforting hand on the back of his neck, rubbing his arm, hugging him, making him a cup of tea or pouring him a glass of wine.
And at the moment, he needed her attention.
So she crossed the tiled floor and stopped in front of him, setting her fingers to the top button of his shirt and undoing it, moving all the way down until she could push the shirt off of his shoulders. His chest still bore the red welts of whatever had happened to him at the hands of the Belgian, holes in his arms where they'd taken blood in Hawaii. And bruises. There were bruises.
It wasn't as bad as it had been when she'd helped him get dressed this morning after he had taken a quick shower in headquarters before their flight back home. But she hadn't been able to do or say anything because a CIA nurse and doctor both stood outside of the dressing screen.
Now she could gingerly lean in and press her lips to the skin of his chest, lighting grazing her fingers down his abdomen and feeling him shiver a little at the attentions she bestowed upon him.
She undid his belt and the front of his pants and pushed them and his boxers down to his ankles so that he could step out of both.
With precision and almost a little desperation, she undressed herself. The shower was the one thing in the world she needed most besides sleep with Chuck pressed against her. The Chuck pressed against her part was a requirement.
The shower was perfectly hot and it soothed her almost as much as having Chuck there behind her. They scrubbed each other's backs and she'd even given him an impromptu shoulder massage that lasted only as long as it took her for to feel the tension there ease at her ministrations.
They stayed longer than was perhaps necessary, but it had felt so good, being back in her own shower, having her own nerdy, brilliant, strong man showering with her. Seeing him use the second towel that hung there. Watching him wrap it around his waist as they carried their clothes across the hall to their bedroom. And then not being able to look away as he dug through his drawers to pull boxers out. Seemingly without even thinking about it, he tossed her a pair of clean panties from her drawer and a T-shirt of his that just happened to have ended up folded in her drawer. (How it got there, she didn't know. It had nothing to do with the fact that she liked stealing his shirts for sleeping ever since she discovered how good the material felt against her skin.)
Seeing him go through his own things, in their home, after she'd spent a week of pacing in here alone and wondering if she'd ever see him again, wondering where the hell she would even look next, finding his proposal plan and talking to Morgan, wondering if he'd ever even get to propose to her, or if she'd spend the rest of her life looking for him, waiting for some sign that he was still out there somewhere…
Tears pricked her eyes again as she turned away from him to get dressed. She pulled the hair tie out of her bun that had kept her hair from getting wet in the shower, and pulled the sheets down on both sides of the bed. As she climbed in, she caught Chuck gazing around at his bedroom, his eyes falling on a pair of heels Sarah had left lying there in a rush to change a week earlier. She'd neglected to put them away after the flurry of events that had followed. She lifted her own gaze from the heels and watched him closely.
She knew he was taking it all in. Everything he'd probably feared he would never see again. His record collection, his computer, his nerdy posters, the closet with all of their clothes and shoes tucked inside of it, his favorite desk chair, and finally their bed, with her in it, waiting for him.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, and willing herself not to cry again, she slid under the covers completely and lifted them to silently urge him to join her.
He didn't waste any time, his grin overtaking his entire person as he hurried to the bed and shut off his lamp, climbing in beside her in the now dark room.
Without even pausing for a moment, Chuck scooted as close to her as was possible without climbing directly on top of her, entwining his legs with hers and draping his arm over her, his face resting against her chest as he let out a long, relaxed sigh.
They were silent for a few moments, as she gently stroked her fingers over his hair, her other hand massaging his upper back. And she was wondering if he'd fallen asleep when he shifted against her and held her even tighter, his hand rounding her hip and squeezing. "I missed you so much," he breathed against her, turning his face into her breast and kissing it over the shirt she wore.
The tears started again. She scrunched her face up and pressed it into his hair, kissing his head and stroking the back of his neck like she knew he loved. She didn't dare try to say anything back. She would choke on her words and it would all be downhill from there. She would sob until she couldn't breathe and she hated how it felt to wake up after crying herself to sleep. She'd learned all too well how horrible it was in the last week, when she'd lost control of her steely nerves, when the repeated mantra of I will find him wasn't enough and her resolve faltered and she wondered if he was already dead…
She knew that he knew she was crying now. Her tears had probably already seeped through his hair to his head. And the way she was so tense in his arms, willing herself not to break down. But he didn't say anything else. He just stayed where he was, clinging a little tighter, slipping his fingers under the waistband of her underpants and lovingly stroking her bare hip bone.
The tears eventually stopped, long after she felt his breathing even out, his body become heavier against her, his head pressing against her chest. Maybe sleeping with a 6'4" man on top of her would make for a less than comfortable morning. She might wake up with a few limbs fast asleep. But she wasn't pushing him away. She wasn't letting go. Not even for a moment.
He was back home. He was real and alive and whole and hers. She wasn't going to spend the rest of her life wondering what had happened to the man who drew up the strangest, most juvenile, and most importantly, the sweetest proposal plan she'd ever seen. Her Chuck was here. Sleeping against her. And she wasn't moving from here until someone pried him from her arms.
With that thought in her mind, her lips pressed against his forehead, she fell asleep.
When she awoke the next morning, Sarah Walker immediately feared that everything had been a dream. That Chuck was still lost somewhere and she and Casey and Morgan hadn't been able to find him and had to come back to Echo Park to regroup, form a new plan. An icy chill went down her spine until she took a deep breath and let her fingers close around the bicep her hand had been resting on.
And then she realized her head was on someone's chest. There was also a heavy weight against her back, and warm legs threaded with hers, feet covering her own to keep the morning cold from getting to them.
He was home.
They had fallen asleep with him lying on top of her and somehow during the night, he'd rolled over and taken her with him. At the moment, he was clutching her like a terrified little boy clutched his teddy bear at night—as though it might protect him from the monsters under the bed. There were no monsters under their bed, and Chuck was no little boy. But perhaps the nightmares were his monster. The one he needed her to protect him from.
It lit a flame in her heart, knowing he depended on her unconsciously, even in his sleep. Of course she knew he needed her, maybe even as much as she needed him. Although, as she thought of how much of a wreck she was when she was faced with the knowledge that a maniac was trying to get the Intersect out of Chuck's head when he didn't even have it anymore, Sarah doubted Chuck could ever know just how much she needed him. It might actually be a bit clinical.
As carefully as she could, she shifted up his body, trying not to jostle him too much or disturb the arms that held her so tightly to his chest.
When she was face to face with him, she took the time to study his face. His features were slack, his lips in a bit of a pout, and he had the longest eyelashes. The discoloration on his right cheekbone was less pronounced in the morning light. It had been worse yesterday, much worse. And the thought of the Belgian being the one who might have given Chuck that bruise made Sarah want to find him in whatever deep dark hole Beckman had him dropped into and kill him.
Chuck made a soft sound in his sleep, his arms flexing against her back and his fingers disengaging from where they were clutched in her shirt. And then his beautiful eyes opened and blinked a few times. She knew when he realized where he was, that he wasn't in some shack in the middle of a jungle, that he was home. That she was here, watching over him.
He was safe.
Because his smile, as small and sleepy as it was, had every ounce of love she knew he felt for her.
Sarah didn't speak. She wasn't sure she could at the moment. As always for her, actions spoke louder than words.
So she lowered her lips to his and kissed his smile, causing it to get even bigger when she reached up to push a hand into his hair.
He was quick to react, and as she shifted to align her face better with his, she felt the evidence that Chuck's entire body wasn't just awake, but fully alert.
This was everything she'd needed since the moment they got him out of that jungle. And considering the fervor with which he was responding, he shared her sentiment in full. Sarah kept the kiss going even as she bent her knees beside Chuck's hips, straddling him. They both reached down as one to push the sheets out of their way, and when Chuck tugged the hem of her shirt, she was forced to sit up, their lips coming apart with a smack.
His gaze was hazy and full of desire, and she knew hers was probably the same, as he lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. His torso surged up from the mattress as he dove in to kiss her neck, before dotting kisses down her collarbone, and finally settled his mouth on her breast.
"Chuck…" She whimpered when his lips surrounded her nipple and began sucking and licking. He switched to the other and applied pressure to the one he just left with his hand. She gasped and rocked her groin against his, earning a groan that sent a shock from her breast down to her toes.
She needed him so badly. She needed to feel him against her. All of him. She needed him inside of her.
So she framed his face and pulled him back from the pleasurable flicking thing he was doing to her nipple with his tongue. And then she reached down to pull his shirt off of him with one swift movement.
Sarah pushed him down to lay against the mattress again and quickly rocked to the side so that she could push her panties down her legs. Chuck had his boxers off quickly, and immediately rolled on top of her, just as she tossed her underwear over the side of the bed.
And as he kissed her, he rocked his hips against hers so that his hard length pressed against her sex. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.
Chuck reached up to clutch her face in both hands, their kiss so passionate that she almost felt a little lightheaded. And with one wonderful arch of his back, his cock was inside of her. They whimpered together, still kissing like they hadn't seen each other in years. And it might as well have been that long, she missed him so much.
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, his hands still framing her face as he began to thrust inside of her over and over and over again. In a way, he was protecting her this time, blanketing her body with his, using his strength to convey to her how much he loved her.
And when he finally broke their kiss to gasp into her cheek, Sarah let her hands wander, kneading his back as his muscles twitched and worked as he repeatedly rocked into her. She dragged one of her hands up and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Sarah," he whimpered, and the quiver in his voice was too much. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, so many ways her life could have ended in that shack in the middle of the jungle. If she'd lost him, that would have been the end of everything.
He must have been lost in his own realizations, and she couldn't help but cry as she realized the wetness on her cheek wasn't just from her own tears. "Oh God, Chuck…" she breathed, kissing whatever part of his face was closest. "Chuck! Oh, I love you. I love you."
They flipped over as one and Sarah felt his cock sink even deeper into her center as she ended up on top. She moaned his name and tilted her head back, bracing her hands against the sheets beside his shoulders and rolling her hips into his lap. His hands held onto her hips, not guiding her or doing anything to dictate her pace. His misty eyes lowered to where their bodies were joined and he let out a soft groan of pleasure.
With a wet giggle, she lowered her torso a bit so that she could nip at his jawline. That seemed to ignite something inside of him, because he flipped them over once again. She squeaked in surprise and pressed her tear-stained face into his hair as he dug his feet into the mattress and made his thrusts even harder.
She clung to him, her mouth open, her eyes clenched shut tightly.
Chuck shoved his arms under Sarah's body and pushed his face into her hair, murmuring her name over and over.
Her entire body felt as though it was about to burst into flames, but more than that, she was completely lost in him. She wrapped her legs around him and enjoyed what he was doing to her, throwing her head back into the pillow and focusing on the pressure building.
When her climax hit, she gasped and whimpered his name repeatedly, acutely aware of each individual place where their bodies touched, the place where they were joined. And as she felt him perhaps losing a bit of steam, she worked to meet his strokes with her own, reaching down to grab his ass cheek in her hand and shoving him deeper inside of her.
"Keep going, Chuck," she panted.
He pushed himself up to hover over her, apparently having gotten a burst of energy from her encouragement, propped on his elbows on either side of her head. They stared at each other as he sped his thrusts up. She wasn't sure if it was the fantastic orgasm she'd just experienced, or the residual feelings from the last week of fearing she'd never see or feel him again, but she felt the tears in her eyes again.
He lowered his face to kiss the tears from her cheeks, and that only made them come faster.
Chuck's whimpers into her ear were more frequent then, until she felt his body tense over her, and then came the familiar and wonderful feeling of his hot seed spilling inside of her. She pulled him as close as possible and turned her face into his hair, thrusting into him until he stilled above her, his body going limp.
His soft groan was muffled into the pillow as he turned his head, and she stroked his back and head, breathing hard, trying to gather her wits again.
He must have heard her sniffle, because he removed himself from her and shifted off of her, instead resting on his side next to her and setting his hand on her stomach. "Hey…" he whispered, leaning close to kiss the tears from her cheeks. "I'm here. You saved me."
"I'm so glad you're here," she breathed.
She supposed she'd lasted as long as she could, in the scheme of things. But now the tears came, and they came hard.
Chuck sat up, bringing her with him so that he could cradle her in his embrace. She wrapped herself around him and clung, letting her hands feel up and down his back, into his hair, sniffling as her emotions got the best of her.
It took some minutes before her breathing evened out and her eyes ran dry, but she never loosened her grip on him, nor he on her. There were so many things she still had to say to him, as she was certain everything she'd said in that shack in Thailand hadn't been heard by her near comatose boyfriend. She knew him waking up and recognizing her was a miracle in and of itself.
When her arms got a little tired, she loosened her grip only just slightly, shifting so that she was sitting directly in his lap, pulling back so that she could press her forehead to his and just revel in their closeness. And then she sniffled and let out a long sigh, opening her eyes and looking into his face.
"Chuck, before anything else happens, before even another moment goes by, you need to know something."
His eyes widened a little and he nodded.
She melted a little more into his warmth as he stroked up and down her side with the backs of his fingers, his other arm wrapped around the small of her back. "I don't know exactly when it happened, the exact moment I mean, but that night when we had our first date, I fell in love with you. Maybe even before then at the Nerd Herd desk. I don't know, Chuck. But it happened. And I had no idea you had the Intersect in your head then. Not until Casey caught up with us on the rooftop. I fell in love with Chuck Bartowski." She gripped his face in her hands. "I fell in love with you. You."
His eyes sparkled in the morning light filtering into their bedroom and he leaned in to bump her nose with his. "I know that, Sarah."
"Good," she said, stroking along his stubbled cheeks with her thumbs, not breaking eye contact for even a second. "And I don't ever want you to doubt that. Not ever. The Intersect is a part of you that was put there by some…outside force. It's not…you." She tilted her torso away from him a little to put her hand on his chest over his heart. "It's gone for now, and whether you get it back or not, you are everything to me. Nothing will ever change that, Chuck Bartowski."
He smiled softly and kissed her, giving her a flirtatious tug with the arm wrapped around her so that their chests bumped together. She smiled into the the kiss and then pulled back a little, still peppering kisses along his jaw. "Hey. There's something else," she mumbled, looking into his face again.
"You've got my full attention."
"You're a spy." His brow furrowed and his small smile turned into a small frown. "You are a spy," she repeated. "The Intersect forced you into this world, Chuck, but you've embraced it and you've grown into a member of this team. That was all you."
"The Intersect helped," he muttered with a bitter snort.
"In some ways. Maybe. Sure. But you've trained, and you've worked hard, and you're more than just a government database. You're a problem solver. And you're strong. And more than capable of everything that any other spy is capable of. That's not the Intersect that worked hard to become a spy. It is you, Chuck."
His frown dissipated and he shook his head, seemingly marveling at her. "I love you, Sarah Walker."
"I love you, too. So much. More than anything. But I need you to understand—"
"I do. I understand. But will the General agree?"
She didn't want to lie to him, even if it would make him feel better. Because they were a team. Because she needed him to know she was honest with him, that she respected him, that they were equals, partners. So instead of saying Of course, she shrugged. "I won't pretend to know what goes through that woman's head at any given moment. But I do know that she used every resource open to her to find you and bring you home. Maybe not as much as me, but I…well, I did a lot of things that maybe weren't entirely…legal. And certainly not sanctioned."
He chuckled softly. "That's my girl."
She ducked her head a little bashfully. "I needed you. I needed to find you, Chuck. But you should know, General Beckman needs you, too. This team needs you. I'm not sure she would have done everything she did if she didn't see you as one of her team. And that's without the Intersect."
Chuck stared at her, his features softening, his hand gently sliding down from her hip to squeeze her thigh. And suddenly the tender moment was charged with something no less tender, but filled with heat.
She could see the way he let everything she said sink into his mind, she could feel his tension seeping out of him, and she knew she'd gotten through to him. She'd told him how important he was to her, how much she loved him.
Now all that remained was to show him.
Sarah captured his lips in a heated kiss, sliding her tongue over his lips until he opened his mouth and welcomed her with his own tongue. She held his face and kissed him with everything in her, making him groan as she gently nibbled on his lip. And then his warm hand slid around from her hip and clutched onto her ass, giving her a teasing tug against him.
She giggled into the kiss and pulled back. She could feel that he was hard, rubbing against her inner thigh, so Sarah reached down to wrap her hand around it, readjusting herself to straddle his lap as he stretched his legs out behind her. And just like that she guided him into her again, gasping at the feeling of him stretching her.
"Sarah…" he whimpered, and as she looked down at him, his jaw clenched and his eyes a russet color instead of their usual golden-brown, she was filled with an intense desire, all-encompassing heat and frenzy.
Letting her body take control, feeding her lust with her lover's body, she rounded his shoulders, sinking her fingers into his skin and burying her face in his hair. Just like that, she was bouncing on his lap, his cock plunging in and out of her.
"Oh my God, Sarah," he gasped into her collarbone.
When he grabbed her hips to stop her, she thought he might flip her onto her back and take control. At which point she'd just have to take it back from him. But instead, he started thrusting up into her, pulling her down to meet him with his hands on her hips.
She pulled her arms back to hold onto his shoulders and meet his lust-ridden gaze with one of her own, rocking her hips into his thrusts and gasping.
Sarah wasn't entirely sure when it happened, or how it happened, but suddenly her world was shifting, she was moving, he was so deep inside of her and everything felt almost overwhelming—and when she opened her eyes again, Chuck was sitting at the edge of the mattress, his thrusts even more powerful now that he had his feet braced against their floor.
"Oh!" she panted. "Oh, yes, Chuck!"
His hand slid up from her hip and began kneading her breast in time with their then he was gently leaning her back, tilting her torso away from his. She grabbed onto his arms tightly, letting her head fall back as she moaned.
With a tight grip on her waist, he began tugging her onto his cock, thrusting deep inside of her, over and over and over again. She cried out his name, holding onto his arms with everything in her as he pounded into her. Fire was roaring inside of her, sweeping over every last inch of her, and she began panting his name.
When he leaned her back even further, she felt the head of his cock thump against her g-spot. "Nng! Oh Chuck! Right there, baby."
He slowed down a little, paying extra attention now that he had found her crazy spot. He supported her with one hand clutching her thigh to keep her legs around him and the other under her back, and he began to slowly and powerfully thrust into her. She rolled her hips as best she could in this position, feeling the way his hard length rubbed against her spot, sending intense shivers all throughout her body.
Just when she thought she would be able to take it anymore, her moans and whimpers coming a little more frequent and her fingers tightening their hold even more, he hoisted her back up to sit on his lap properly and just held her still, gasping into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. "I love you so much," he panted. "I love you."
With the rushing of endorphins and the emotion she heard in his voice, she felt her tears threaten again. But she bit them back, focusing on him, on what they both needed. "Lay back," she whispered, because her voice wasn't capable of much more than moans and whimpers at the moment.
He lowered his back against the mattress, lying perpendicular to the bed, his pillow next to his shoulder.
Sarah reached up to grab the headboard and held onto his bicep with her other, rolling her hips against him. He swallowed loudly and let his head fall back, his eyes slipping shut at the sensations. It was all she could do not to shut her eyes and lose herself completely.
Instead she focused on his face, riding him fast and hard.
Her climax was building quick, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She knew he was close, his face tightening and his voice strangled in his throat as he groaned her name.
Another thirty seconds passed and her thighs were beginning to cramp. After going so hard for the past few days, never stopping, and the fact that she hadn't fully recuperated from battle with the Thai prize fighter…her muscles were protesting the movement. But she kept going. She kept riding him, clenching her jaw and speeding it up even more.
And then she felt him explode inside of her, her name on his lips in a breathy whimper. She kept grinding against him, so close to her own finish.
That was when she felt his fingers grapple between where they were connected, and then she felt a delicious pressure against her clit. He rubbed over and over again, still emptying himself inside of her. And her orgasm hit like an avalanche inside of her.
She didn't know anything but what the ceiling looked like through the spots exploding across her vision, the feeling of his fingers against her sensitive nub as he continued to rock his hips into hers, the heat of his cum inside of her.
And then it was over and her entire body was humming, and she couldn't feel her lips as she rocked to the side and flopped onto her back next to him, her breath coming out in panting whimpers.
She felt Chuck close his hand over hers and squeeze tightly. And the only thing she could process was how much she loved him. How much she'd missed him. How hard it was to imagine a possible future where he wasn't there.
That was not to be, though. He was alive. Very alive. He was himself. And whether or not the Intersect ever came back to him, this was her man. Her man who fretted over the way she wrapped his video game controllers when she was moving them to clean, who could rock her world with a simple kiss, who drew up rudimentary proposal plans and discussed them in length with his best friend until he could get it perfect…
This was the man she was going to marry. This was her Chuck.
And as she slowly rolled to lie on top of him again, holding him just as tightly as he was holding her, she finally allowed herself to see her future laid out in front of her. It was Chuck. It was Chuck and his friends and family. She wasn't letting him slip away. Not if she had to fight one thousand prize fighters to save him. It didn't matter.
He was hers forever. And she was his.
Nobody was going to take him away again.
Thank you for reading. :)
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