Chapter Text
The collision of sound from the door latching and the lock flipping made her heart skip a beat - the implication enough to make her weak. John helped her to her feet, cupped her elbows and brought her arms around his shoulders. Smooth operator, she thought with a crooked grin, feeling the damaged skin along the back of his neck.
“You say the word and I’ll leave you alone if ya’ want. Last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable,” he was sincere, but she could hear the glimmer of hope in his tone - the raw, unhidden desire that she figured was obvious on herself as well.
With a steady breath, she admitted, flushing, “I haven’t had sex since Shawn was born, John.”
His eyelids lowered, gaze intense, “You’re making me harder than a damn steel rod ya’ know that? Can’t imagine how many bats you had to break to keep the degenerates off this long.”
Nora smirked, “None since you came along. Seems you've taken to the task pretty seamlessly.”
“Ah-ha,” he chuckled, ‘what can I say? I’m good asshole repellent.”
“John…” she lamented, “I’ve only ever been with Nate before and I don’t want you being disappointed. I’m not cooked out on adrenaline anymore. I-”
“Hey, now,” he interrupted her, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, “don’t go all self-conscious on me, beautiful. This is all new territory for me too. I’ve never touched anything half as important as you. If anything I’m the one that ought’ah be spewing out nervous ramblin’s. Hell...have you seen me?”
Nora smirked. “You sure do know how to get the floodwaters going,” she joked against the frill of his collar, snorting happily when he emitted a dark, faint groan. Maybe it wouldn’t be awkward. It was always hard to be nervous around him.
He had a way of cracking her free even when she was adamant about feeling awkward.
Nora lifted her fingers to his vest buttons, unhooking the first one to the sound of a raspy, gratified sigh. Yeah, he wasn’t feeding her a load of shit. He was just as fresh at this sort of thing as she was, just in a different way. When she helped him shrug out of his vest, tossing it on the couch and found him shaking lightly under his thin white frills, she felt more at ease herself.
The shredded skin underneath his dress shirt wasn’t surprising, she’d seen it before. There had been many nights and mornings where they’d both gotten down to their skivvies in the hot summer months, laid out on their bedrolls sweating uncomfortably, and sometimes...they’d woken up against each other, finding comfort while they slept and awakening with only a slight hint of unease.
Nora didn’t feel embarrassed anymore.
John made a soft grating sound as she placed her palms over his bare chest, familiarizing herself with the dips and raised welts - the thinner patches of smooth skin that nearly exposed the muscles beneath. Sure, she’d seen him a dozen times, but this was different - she could curl her nails softly into the valleys of him and trace what once she’d only observed wearily...sometimes heatedly with her eyes.
“What are you thinkin’, Nora?” he asked, voice low and ragged, maybe a little restive.
She worried her lower lip, thumbing down a seam along his ribs that looked fresher that the old scarring littering his torso. The deep line could have been from before she met him. Nora couldn’t recall a time when he’d been carrying any pain there. She swallowed thickly, pulling her eyes away from her caressing fingers, “Just thinking how much you’ve filled out since you quit the hard stuff…”
John snorted, grinning a toothy grin, “Figured you went for the bulky types, glad to know my hard work’s payin’ off in a good way.”
“I’d like you any way you came,” she added honestly, letting her fingers fall down to the waistline of his pants, “but I don’t worry about you wasting away anymore.” The tight, necrotic flesh over his stomach tensed as her thumb stroked between a divot of abdominal muscle and hipbone. His verbal reaction made her warm inside.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he told her, passionately, gripping her hips in a fierce hold that shot a line of desire down her spine, mingling with the heat already there. God, this was almost too much. Too soon. But it felt more natural than anything else did in this world, maybe even in the world before this one.
It was getting difficult to think.
Nora leaned up suddenly, finding his lips and kissing him. Hancock keened - the sound vibrating in her teeth as his tongue slid between her lips, urging her mouth open. She was lost in it. The safety of her office didn’t do a damn thing to dampen that urgent pounding of her heart as John fisted the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her back to delve deeper into her mouth, sucking on her tongue and nipping at her lips. She only realized he was removing her undershirt when he had to release her lips to get it over her head.
“John…” she managed before he returned to her lips, licking under her tongue and growling inside her mouth.
Yes, she thought, finally. Who would have thought being devoured would feel so delightful.
Strong, sure fingers scratched up along her spine, making her shudder and moan into his mouth. The fragile clasp of her bra released, and immediately John’s palms slide up her bare back, curling the tips of his fingers into her shoulder blades and dragging a delicious line of sweet pain down to her rear end. Nora moaned a soft curse as he squeezed her ass cheeks, massaging the denim covered flesh greedily.
“You sure you wanna use that bath now?” he asked her, voice a faraway rumble of thunder against her chin, “cause I’m gonna do filthy, dirty...nasty things to you, Nora.” He bit gently at her lower lip, chuckling when she made a thick whine in the back of her throat.
“Tempting, John,” she murmured, albeit shakily, “but we’re both filthy enough as it is.”
Hancock shrugged sheepishly while smoothing his palms around to the front of her jeans, “Then let's get this party started. I ain't sure how much more gentlemanly shit I can handle.”
“Me too,” she breathed, letting him undo the clasp of her jeans and pull the zipper down. In one jerking motion, he took her jeans and panties down to her thighs, snickering when she gasped. His tongue slid up the side of her thigh, all the way to her hip on his way back up, teeth scathing a line up her stomach. When he hooked his hands around her back and brought the tip of her breast to his lips, Nora felt her knees buckle. Hancock would sooner clean her off with his tongue than let her bathe, she realized. That idea should have repulsed her, at least a little bit, but the bath suddenly seemed like the less pleasant option.
The hot glide of his tongue around her nipple made her chest, down to her thighs, ache softly. His thin, rough lips latched on, giving a parting suck before her flesh bounced back with a wet, loud pop. Her cheeks went hot at the sound, then blazed as he hummed in contentment, “Last chance to get a tongue bath.”
“Gross,” she laughed, hauling him up off his knees so she could work at the front of his pants.
“You give my tongue too little credit, love.”
Nora smiled tellingly under the drape of her hair, her fingers working the flag from the loops in his waistband. He called her love…
She beamed further, making quick work of the buttons over the telltale hardness below. Hancock groaned, sighed and somewhere she thought she could hear his heart thudding, or maybe that was hers. There was no second layer to hide him from her when she got his pants open, and with a trivial displacement of air his cock sprang free, striking hotly against her knuckles; distended with blood.
“Careful…” he warned, swallowing thickly, “I’m usually pretty good at this but,” he inhaled carefully, “fuck...you got ol’ Hancock a bit too eager here.”
“So,” she grinned, running a finger up the underside of his cock, familiarizing herself with the texture that was at once rough ‘and’ soft, “no sudden movements then?”
The swollen head reaching up towards her was nearly purple with blood - a slight glimmer of precum balanced precariously on the soft looking slope. If she had any reservations about the state of him, of his cock, they were quickly dashed by the sight before her. It was just as curiously beautiful as the rest of him was.
“Yeah, no sudden movements or you’re gonna be a real mess,” he warned her.
No kidding, she thought, resisting the urge to swipe her thumb over the pearl of liquid.
“Understood,” she said, helping him out of his pants and boots. She laid his tricorn over on her desk gently, giving his burnt cheek a peck of her lips. The bath was still steaming, a testament to how hot it's been. When she first told him about hot baths before the war he’d looked at her like she was mad. ‘You pe-war dames used to cook yourselves?’ He’d joked then, shaking his head in bafflement.
But, now he was going to find out first hand why she’d been longing for one. It seemed a simple thing to accomplish now that she was drawing him - cock swaying between his legs - to the tub. Just a dozen buckets of boiled water...and a strong ghoul to carry them. She squeezed the solid muscles of his biceps, marveling at how much thicker he was now than he’d been a few months ago. His now mild chem use and steady diet were to thank for that, she knew.
Nora took another long second to squeeze the meat of his arms, run her palms down to his corded wrists before dragging him down.
The water was hot - almost too hot, but it had been a good while since she’d experienced a real bath, and the first time for him it would seem. He winced at the first touch, but tolerated the heat until he was settled in across from her; his water softened scars so much different as his calves glided against her hips, eventually finding a way for them both to fit comfortably in the tub.
“Dear God,” she sighed, eyes going closed. It was so much better than she could last remember. Tension she’d long ignored finally began to ease. Her spine bowed as her chin slapped happily against her chest. Nora had enough sense to run her ankle along John’s inner knee before looking over at him with a hooded gaze, “What do you think, John?”
He gave her a nervous, lopsided grin, “You could have me half buried in Brahmin crap and as long as I had this glorious sight before me, I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t enjoying myself.”
She chuckled, “Thanks for the compliment, I think.”
“It’s hard to not see the appeal,” he continued with a throaty rasp, his legs stretched, further barricading her in, “feelin’ parts of me relaxing I didn’t know I had.”
“Better than the chems?” she teased.
“Almost. Ain't nothing better than chems ‘cept you,” he breathed, obsidian eyes narrowing in contented bliss. It felt good to give him this - it was nothing like all the other depraved things she wanted to do to him...but something so innocent and wonderful was a joy to show him all the same. He would have spoiled himself with the simple things, she thought, had he lived in her time. It was easy to imagine a smooth skinned John McDonough, lounging around in hot baths with a pack of smokes and some good whiskey; high and unashamed.
When his eyes drifted shut, Nora was left to observe him in silence.
It should feel uncomfortable, she thought - the slow chorus of activity outside, far away and unimportant compared to the gentle breathing of the two of them. She shifted carefully under the water, sliding her calf over the top of his thigh, curling her ankle around his hip. Slowly, his eyes opened, looking over at her lazily; dangerously.
“You might have made a bad gamble with this tub, you know. Startin’ to forget about ravishin’ ya,” he remarked with a sly grin. The poorer she’d be if he was telling the truth, though the steam was making her relatively sleepy and pliable as well. They’d waited long enough to get to this point. What would be the harm in taking things slow?
Nora swallowed before speaking, wondering how best to phrase the question without it coming out a mess, “We could, if you wanted-wait...John?” She blinked, narrowing her eyes.
“John,” she blurted and sat up, “Is that blood?”
The water sleuthing behind him glimmered pink; sliding out between his skin and the tarnished white rim.
He turned, rolling a shoulder with a curious lilt to his eyes. One black look at the water around his torso only got a grumble out of him, “Didn’t think you’d be put off by a bit of blood given the circumstances. Some burner might ‘ave opened up a nick or somethin’.”
John’s regarded frown gave way to a reassuring smile, but she still slipped up to her knees, handling the slick rim to see for herself. John made a click of approval, eyes watching the bounce of her breasts before leaning forward to give her a good look at his back. There was a shallow weeping slice just above his kidney - the clot of blood having softened, allowing it to bleed anew. Nora shook her head before cupping a palm of warm water, dousing the wound gently. John resounded, pushing his chin over her shoulder as she bathed the wound.
“And you were worried about me earlier,” she admonished.
“It’s nothing a stimpack and some radiation can’t cure, ‘sides, I had more pressing matters to attend to,” he responded rather wryly, his palms noisily leaving the water to stroke the soft skin on her sides, tickling her ribs cheekily. Nora snorted before pressing her breasts firmly to his chest to reach the dry bar of soap on the floor.
He hissed when she rubbed her soapy fingers along the wound, but the thick length of his cock sprung back to life along her rear despite the sound of pain. Might be he was a bit more into that kind of thing than he led on - that knowledge was filed away for later, though. Radiation might heal him but it didn’t keep things from getting infected…
“Next time, we do first aid before fooling around.”
“Where’s the fun in that, sunshine?” He was grinning like a thieving cat as she settled herself down in his lap, ignoring the ache in her knees from the hard porcelain so she could rub the soap over his thick chest. Little white slices of soap stuck in the grooves of scar tissue, but they disappeared as she worked them into suds over his upper body. John's eyes closed and his head tipped back, laying boneless along the rim.
“Shit,” he sighed, “remind me to throw in with green vault dwellers more often - startin’ to feel like I cheated karma at cards. And to think Fahrenheit said you'd be the death of me.”
Nora couldn’t stop smiling - cheeks going red from more than the steam. With his eyes closed, she coated her hands in the sunken soap, pressing her tongue between her teeth before enclosing her fingers around his cock.
“Fuck me…” he groaned, hips jerking, water splashing as she worked both her fists in twists, up and down the generous length of him. Nate had been about his size, maybe not at long...it was strange to compare them in this way, but it helped that the muscle memory for this wasn’t for not.
As the water got glossy from the suds, the backs of her thighs slid effortlessly into the downward slope of his legs, resting in the cradle of his hips where her hands swept over his throbbing cock.
John tensed, "...feels damn good."
Quickly, his hands breached the water to strain around the rim of the tub - something to hold onto maybe. His eyes strained open, looking at her penetrating gaze at first before making another broken sound, watching the murky view of her hands around his cock.
“I’m gonna cum,” he warned; breath catching as she cupped the flared head in her palm, stroking a tight fist up the root of him.
She wanted him to - she wanted to see what he looked like before he fucked her into delirium. Her thumb swiped through a string of sticky cum, brushing it into the water before John choked. Water sleuthed over and onto the floor as his hips jarred up and down, fucking her fist as he came.
The vulnerable, almost boyish moan he made as the water ran with trails of cum made a quick little bolt of pleasure run down her belly. It may have been more arousing to hear that than see him with all that wiry strength on full show. The way the scars between his eyes bunched in pleasure - the slant of his eyes and that slack-jawed moan?
That sound…
“John,” she moaned, stroking his cock carefully as she leaned down, kissing him urgently. Everything curtailed into oblivion it seemed. The heat of the bath was replaced by the cool dry air of her office. Rugged but careful hands gripped her under her thighs, hoisting her up effortlessly until she was pressed and hitched into the divot of his hips and chest. The hot length of his uneven skin against her own made her hiss; lips curling with teeth into his brutal kiss.
It was a blessing that her office worked as the same place she slept before it didn’t seem so fortunate but the short journey to her bed was a wonder in its own right. The musky sheets stuck to her moist back as John dropped her down on the springy mattress. She was slippery from the soapy bath water, still slightly dirty despite it all, yet that didn’t seem to bother her at that moment - nor did it bother him.
Something about the way John looked down at her...he may like her more filthy than clean…
“Ain’t I just the luckiest ghoul in this whole fucking wasteland,” he told her; whispered to her as his palms scratched down the tops of her thighs, thumbs pressing between muscle to relieve a tension she hadn’t known was still there.
“John,” she nipped playfully, “you keep up all this sweet talk and I might end up being wooed.”
He grinned, broad and menacing if not for how well she knew him. The sound of his short chuckle as he pressed her thighs open sent a long stab of pleasure down her gut. He hadn’t even started yet, she thought wildly, and already the flesh between her thighs burned. It did little good to know what was coming, because that first touch, slippery and merciless made her buck. Johns thumb on her clit made her sigh like only Nate's well-aimed cock had. Nora closed her eyes, breathed deep and pushed that long gone man away.
When she looked up John was there, watching her lips open in another soft sound as he twisted his wrist, swirling that spot of pleasure with skill. Nora could find it in her to be jealous if she thought about how well he knew his way around a woman's body, but the heat still saturated her bones and the way he looked at her...she couldn't find it in her to go looking for that nasty feeling.
Her eyes had shut again; darkness, but she parted her lips the second she felt John’s warm breath on her chin. His teeth worried her lower lip only for his tongue to sooth the raw flesh. The kiss he gave her blotted out what was left of her reasoning. His skilled kisses made her mind reel with how good it must feel to have him mouthing and tonguing her further down; down between her thighs.
Oh god, she couldn't stand it any longer.
“...now, John,” she said between kisses. Nora didn't need to be worked up anymore. Foreplay could come later - they could spend all night, the rest of their lives if he pleased, edging each other on, but right now she couldn't imagine another minute feeling like this. So needy and desperate. It was nothing like she usually felt - it was vulnerable and intoxicating.
“You sure?” John asked, sounding beaten and delirious. His lips hovered against her own, sharing each other's breath. Did she sound like that? As rent and mindless as he did? Nora wondered, rolling her hips into his furiously working hand. If he didn't do it now she'd finish empty again. No, not again. Her hips slowed as she slipped a hand between them, running her finger down his stomach where she wrapped her palm firmly around his cock; squeezing.
“Christ…” John rasped, rolling his hips forwards into her sleek grip, “shouldn’t have to beg, being as perfect as you are but, shit- are ya’ really sure?”
“Yes, John,” she reassured him, leaning forwards to kiss him softly on his parted mouth. She must have been sure of this longer than she truly realized, because nothing seemed more right than this, right here, between John and her. He had a charm about him that the drugs couldn’t take away. Even after it took away his skin, his nose, and his ears...maybe some of his pride - it couldn’t take away what made her love him.
Those bottomless eyes of his opened as she pulled away, resting her head back against the bed, “Don’t go all shy on me now, John.”
She wagged her eyebrows dramatically, grinning. John managed a wide, almost lecherous grin before reaching underneath her to the globe of her ass, sliding her thigh up against his hip.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he promised, watching her guide his cock between her folds, looking as nervous as she felt but doing his damned best, it would seem, to appear confident. After the first few thrusts, they’d forget about any awkwardness, she knew.
As John pressed inside her - it stung. It burned more than she’d thought it would but it wasn’t the worst feeling by far Nora remembered feeling over the years. The last time something had been where John was...she was giving birth. It was odd to think about, but the memory lessened the discomfort enough that she could breathe through another thick thrust. John shook above her. He hadn’t been joking about being as fresh at this as she was, but one of them had to be stronger. She wasn’t sure it could be her given how long it had been or how raw the desire for him had become.
Nora let out a thin sound, hoping he’d mistake it for pleasure instead of the throng of discomfort it was. He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t, though.
“Don’t let me have all the fun, love,” he groaned, halting deep inside her.
Nora let out a ragged breath and held onto his biceps, “It’s just-it’s been awhile and it feels…”
“You say too big and that’ll really go to my head,” he grimaced and in the dim light he looked threatening, but something about it made her insides contract softly.
John whistled, swallowed audibly and gave her a naked look, “ Be careful what choice of words you're fixin’ to use.”
That got a smile out of her. How could it not? Nora stroked the hard strength of his arms; firmly braced on either side of her before telling him, “I need you to go at it hard for a little while.”
John’s brow line rose in question.
“Trust me alright? I’ll tell you if it hurts too much, but I promise,” she sighed and carefully shifted around his hips, “it won’t hurt for long.” It was better to rip a band-aid off than hesitate.
“We clearing out the cobwebs?” he teased, and then...before she could get a word out his hips pulled back and slapped into her with a sharp sound. Nora shrieked, scrambled for purchase along his neck and held on tight as he worked rough thrusts into her. Yes, it hurt, but the pain ebbed after seconds of John’s merciless pace. The hard pull of her insides as he slid out of her was skin-tinglingly exquisite and the hard jolt of pleasure when he bottomed out only made her drool into the sheets.
“John-” she panted, reaching behind her with one hand to fist the sheets, keeping her from being fucked back into the headboard.
He fucked her as roughly as she’d asked and though it didn’t hurt anymore she didn’t want his pace to slow - it was brutal and the noises he made above her reminded her of a feral that had gotten too close once, but it spiked her belly with pleasure rather than fear. Or, perhaps it was both and the combination of which resulted in this heightened feeling of bliss. Nora opened her mouth, but couldn’t manage a sound as her breasts bounced roughly on her ribs, itching against the fast, hard gyration between her legs.
“Good?” John asked; hissed it as he went down on an elbow, mouth hovering over her own. The angle changed but the pace didn’t - the depth didn’t - and some rough dip of scar tissue above his cock grazed wetly along her clit. White hot pleasure forced a very unflattering noise from her throat, but through all the sensation she could hear the distant sound of John’s breathless chuckle.
“Just-” he grunted, “tap out if it...ah, shit that's close.”
Nora breathed deeply as his brutal rhythm slowed. John’s hips started to twist; rolling in place of the hard slapping mantra. He’d been right there, so close, Nora thought dizzily. Even after cumming in the tub he nearly came again. That was alright, though. If she didn’t finish she was fine with that. There would be many more times for him to make her come...it didn’t…
“Oh, fuck,” she groaned. The way he ground into her - their bodies so close - hit every spot. The rhythm was lazy and shallow, but something about it was perfect. “Just like that. John...just like this.”
“I know.”
Nora opened her eyes to find him watching her; gazing down at her. It was like he was studying each twitch and pull across her face for what to do. Studios, he was. He always had been a perceptive son of a bitch even when she wished he wasn’t. Outside of a good firefight or debate, this is where that skill really shone, she knew. Was it any wonder he had his fair share of admirers despite what the wasteland thought of people like him.
Nora saw it now and hoped it was exclusive to her.
He saw something she wasn’t sure how he could see. Without any words, his hips pushed down heavily, rolling up into her with deep hard thrusts. John hummed as he pulled out of her, so gradually she thought he’d slip out. The chummy grin on his face when her eyes widened should have gotten a comment out of her, but then he rammed back inside, fast and aiming high and it hit everything.
Everything he stroked burned and peeled away at something hard and guarded inside her. It felt amazing, but it was more than a physical sensation - it was something Nora didn’t want to voice and couldn’t as she wrung the bed sheets in her fist and held onto his neck.
“That’s it, love,” he urged; tone affectionate and rough, “let go.”
Yes, let go, Nora repeated silently, finally letting the feelings win her over. And just like that, she came like a thunder crack on the wave of a radiation storm - like a devastating beauty that was frightening in its intensity. Her mind lulled as the waves crashed and a stunning warmth bloomed in her gut. Nora sobbed through it; loud and pitiful but John covered her in his heat, whispering sentiments as she came down from the high.
Tension leaked out of her as John seethed and sat up, holding her hips in a deadly grip. His eyes were tightly closed as he slapped his hips against her own, driving forwards for his own orgasm while she jerked against the bed, watching in a stupor. John looked...well, he looked nothing like he had in the bath - he looked in pain; feverish with discomfort as he came inside her. The act, it seemed, appeared to be painful, but the hiss of breath...that was familiar and with a cut of old pleasure she sucked in a breath and watched as a myriad of emotions crossed John’s unique features. This was also beautiful. Somehow it was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen as she felt the wet warmth filling up within her.
Immediately, she wanted to feel it again.
Three times might have been a bit much for the famous John Hancock though and the crushing expression of pleasure still loosening from his face looked as final as an atom bomb. They had tomorrow...always tomorrow.
“Fuck…” he groaned, squeezing her thigh.
"Fuck, indeed," Nora muttered, spreading her arms out across her bed as she gazed up at him. He blinked in that slow disoriented way one did when coming out of a deep fog. Those black pitted eyes refocused, then slowly slid down towards her, hovering over her breasts before searching her face.
She felt sticky and sweaty; disheveled and yet...yet the way he looked at her made her feel gorgeous enough for a cocktail party before the war. It was the way he’d been looking at her for awhile - for so long now it seemed impossible she’d never noticed it before. Looking at her like he loved her, she thought, chewing on her lip.
“Nora...I…” he paused, swallowed and Nora thought for a second he’d say what she knew already, but he didn’t. Maybe, deep down, he was still unsure. John Hancock was many things - witty, intelligent, powerful and charismatic, but there was something very self-conscious about him, especially now as his cock softened inside of her.
Strange for him to feel that way as their hips were pressed together.
His eyes shifted, looking for something on her face before he carefully slid away from her. The feeling made her sigh.
John ducked his head, made to sit back on his heels; made to leave, but she was quicker than him. He eyed her critically as she grasped his wrist, squeezing him sharply.
“I-” she started with gusto and then suddenly the words lodged in her throat as well. How simple it should have been, but some part of her refused to accept the feeling as truth. She wanted to love him and she did very well love him, but something kept her from shouting it.
Still kneeling between her thighs, John gave her a bitter smile, “You don’t gotta throw words around for my sake, sweetheart. Kinda figured I’d fucked myself over, but...hell,” he grinned - still unhappy and broken, “I’d be a fool to say no to a gal like you.”
“That hurts, John,” she whispered, but maybe he was right. Not all relationships started with declarations of love, though. Why did theirs?
Nora swallowed, pulled out an ounce of courage and squeezed his wrist harder. “I want...this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing and - and I don’t want to be your fuck buddy either. Everything I told you before tonight, I meant it.”
A tattered muscle above his eye rose - something of John’s inquisitive self shining through whatever she’d almost broken. Nora swallowed and continued, “I want you, John, but I’m not sure I can tell you how much I love you just yet.”
“How much, huh?” he chuffed dryly, running his palm down her thigh to the ball of her knee. For a brief moment, he seemed distracted by the dripping flesh between her thighs before glancing back over at her bright cheeks, “I’ll lay all my cards on the table, Nora. You know I love you. Can’t say it ain’t obvious to everyone else either, ‘specially that little settler back in Greygarden I had let down.”
“Who was-what now?” she asked, or maybe demanded.
He gave her a real grin this time. She must have sounded jealous because he shushed her in a self-satisfied way that would have gotten a door closed on him if she didn’t like, or love him so much. The way she felt about him seemed to go above and beyond the vernacular of this world; hers and his alike.
“Doesn’t matter, love,” he rasped, pressing a thumb down between her thighs, underneath her slippery clit until she moaned, “point is ya' got me hooked better than the chems ever did and ain’t no going back to empty coitus flings for me anymore.”
Nora listened intently despite the stirring in her gut from his slow, gentle swirls; callus thumb sending raw pleasure up her spine. Dimly, she knew what it was he was doing right now. Distracting her. His touch was exquisite and damn her, but she couldn't shake him even if she wanted to and she definitely didn't want to.
Besides, this shade of color looked better on him than the disappointment. There he was, back to his buccaneering mannerisms and confident strokes. He whispered about the last woman he had sex with before her - about how he thought he could fuck on the side and still feel how he felt and how he’d been wrong.
This shouldn't have thrilled her as much as it did.
John slid two fingers inside her, “...guess it’s all or nothin’ with me. If I couldn’t have you then I didn’t want anyone else. What’s-her-name didn’t like that, though.”
“John…” she whined, stretching out as his fingers curled and thumb swiped back and forth; firm and slow, “usually you don’t talk about other women when you’re in bed with someone else.”
It was supposed to sound chastising, but it came out...not so. Nora frowned but made a delighted sound at the tickle of an impending orgasm. Usually, it took more than this to get her off...but…
“I dunno, sweetheart, not all this is my cum,” he told her; debauched and proud as he churned his fingers at an angle, letting her hear how wet she was. “And I’m thinkin’ you like my foul mouth more than you let on."
He leaned in close; breath hot on her neck, "What would you say if I picked you up and fucked you in the middle of the room, standing up. Jus’ me an you. No bed or nothin’. Just me holdin’ you up and throwin’ this dick inside and out until everyone, even the dead can hear you?”
Nora nodded, feeling scandalized.
What an incorrigible pervert he was - to say such things only moments after admitting how he loved her, but perhaps that was part of his charm. It felt dirty, sure, but John was a scoundrel in most things he did and Nora loved that about him. Besides, she wasn’t that pure herself. The thoughts she’d had about him could make a seasoned raider blush. The more he talked to her, his voice grating and low and promising and filth laden, it only made that ball in her gut tighten until she was rolling her hips into his hand, panting like a dog. She realized she must look ridiculous like this, but with her second orgasm so close she couldn’t give a flying fuck.
Knowing John, he’d find it hot to see her so undone by him. Let him have this, she thought wildly and let her have it as well.
When she came it was a slow climb to the top, but the fall was even longer and she found herself palming the length of his arms, curling her fingers into his neck and shoulder only for her arms to fall back to the bed as she breathed through the height of it. It was the best feeling in the world and as she came down she heard John whisper to her, “Ya love me now?”
Nora let a languorous grin stretch her face.
She did love him and the orgasm still rolling in her gut made things oh so clear...but saying so now would mean he’d won something she wanted to win herself. John looked down at her as if he could read her thoughts, and merely smirked at what he found. His thumb gave a rebellious stroke across her clit before he slid his slick palm up her belly to her hip, pulling their hips close again.
Her eyes fluttered at the contact - a sudden, heavy layer of exhaustion weighed down on her, making her eyelids droop.
Above her John laughed; dry and warm.
“Yeah, guess I’d be tired too if I took a shot of the good stuff like that, then again you got my twice with that and I’m still revved up for more. Could be my zombie tendencies shinin’ for once,” his voice sounded ragged and deep and bottomless in her ears but it also sounded manic like when he used to shoot up tubes of psycho on the road. He hadn’t shot up, though, she knew that much, but it made her both itchy and pleased to know two good blows could make him act as such. Maybe he was right about her being better than the chems to him…
“John,” she addressed, eyes closed in near-sleep, “how you could still want more after tonight...it boggles my mind.”
Another chuckle, “Easy, love. I’m a fiend.”
Nora cracked one eye open to find him grinning rakishly down at her - it was so endearing she giggled before she could help herself. John arched a ragged brow, parted his lips to say something witty about the sound no doubt but she jerked him down and kissed him with all the finesse of a witless teenager. Against her lips, she could feel him smile.
Very quietly, against his mouth, she whispered that she loved him more than she’d loved the father of her child.
John hugged her close, nodding desperately against her neck, muttering sappy sentiments that were so at odds with the dirty talk he’d fucked her with earlier.
They wrapped themselves in one of her blankets, forgetting about the stickiness between their thighs; too tired to do much else but mold themselves along the length of the other and fall asleep. Something about his radiated body warmed her perfectly - the uneven texture comforting.
He’d certainly been right about the pointlessness of the bath, in the beginning, Nora thought as she watched him in the mid-darkness. She woke up however long after they fell asleep, something disagreeable lingering in her mind. How unfitting it was to have a nightmare after the kind of night she’d had. Should have been having dopey dreams of something...sickeningly sweet, but no.
Looking back at the start of the evening, as the early hours of morning ticked on, Nora stretched and felt the stick of skin between her thighs peel away. Sore and sticky...filled to the point of leaking. It should have been disgusting but it had the opposite effect. The image of John standing in the middle of the room with her bouncing in his lap sent a hard spike down her belly. He’d have to made do with that promise at some point.
Such a raw expression of strength would be her undoing, among other things. Such as the expression he wore when he finished. Nothing from here on out could take away the memory of what John looked like when he came inside her for the first time - that open pain in his irradiated features. Pleasure and pain and something so raw she’d felt at once beyond lucky to see such an expression and terrified of him seeing a similar look on her own face as she arched and came, sobbing.
Nora laid there in the darkness with just a half-dead lamp on her desk the only light. A lame light it was, halfway across the room and doing nothing to make out the tapestry of the lean ghoul laying beside her; still asleep and noticeably relaxed.
“John, you beautiful bastard,” she whispered softly, rolling her shoulders to face him, daring to lay a hand on his wide chest. The ridges of scar tissue, even now being still new, was familiar and comforting. The vestiges of a nightmare clung around her still, but she couldn’t remember what it had been about and after all, it wasn’t real. John was, though. As real as anything had any right to be.
A gentle sound, rugged but soft, escaped John’s throat as she ran a thumb over the bony nub of his collar bone, marveling at the incredibly soft feeling of his skin. Knowing how he felt in certain areas, some softer than she was, made it nearly impossible to imagine him being so strong - impossible to think how much strength lay beneath the cloaks he wore.
Eventually, she went back to sleep, stretching her body along his side; thigh slipping wetly as she went. They’d need another bath in the morning, a proper one without any distractions...if that was even possible for a crafty man like John, but once again it felt way too good to wrap herself around his warmth and drift off, knowing that if she awoke again from something unpleasant, he’d be there. Always.