fuck me like you hate me
rated m.
so, this is exactly what it sounds like. or, it started out as exactly what it sounds like. except the end got a little angstier than i originally planned. post-returning from neverland. pre-pan’s curse. (imagine there’s more time for things like desperate sexytimes. or something.)
His teeth are sharp against the sensitive flesh inside her lips. It’s almost a kiss but not quite, the way he nips and pulls, the way her skin pulls taut and she can taste his mouth, chasing that elusive moment where it’s wet heat and tongues. He’s hasn’t properly kissed her, not since that first one in Neverland all those weeks ago, when she gripped the collar of his jacket so tightly that she stumbled into him, even as she tasted rum and salt and heat and sweat.
Published
It All Starts With a Dance 