Gideon Meander – One Shot Fan Fiction

Gideon finds Eva asleep after a two day business trip without her….

Gideon’s breath caught like this every time he saw her. Every. Fucking. Time. It stalled, then started, hitting a running pace like a panting dog. She was a pinball. Ricocheting on a chaotic path, she zapped him in the heart, in the head and in his nuts – a trifecta of scores – ding, ding, ding.

Two days it’s been, two long fucking days he had to make do without her. He’d been giving his staff hell he felt so out of sorts, no one knew how anchorless he felt without her by his side, even a fucking hour was too much.

The irony was a mind fuck that still left him reeling. Here was this woman, so soft, so gentle, compliant even, a petite wisp he sometimes feared he would break with the ferocity of his need, but for the fact that her strength dared to touch him, a strength he now relied on, jonesing for like an addict for his fix.

He would laugh about it if it wasn’t so damn astonishing. He was supposed to be the strong one. He conquered, acquired, merged and managed with the single minded determination of a battle hardened general, waging his career advancement like a bloody war to hold the alpha spot on the pinnacle. He ruled his empire with the brute force of his will, and in complete stoic isolation.

He’d spent his whole life without her, was doing fine screwing the steady stream of women he kept a stock of in  the debauched depths of his little black book until the sight of her barrelled into him with a blow like no one before her ever managed. She’d been nothing short of a revelation to him. He felt her as though she was plugged into him, as if she was made from his very fibres, like Eve was for Adam, fashioned to be his in every single possible way.

He used to be a man possessed, fear, anger, hatred were the ugly names of the demons that rode him to hell and back in his sorry ass life, but now she held the reins. She possessed him, her claim staked into the deepest vestibules of his heart, and vetted with her love. Against her, he was as helpless as a baby.

She was obviously trying to wait up for him, but the lull of the words on the pages of her book stole her away, and for an irrational moment he hated the damn thing. Jealous of how it laid on her evenly rising chest, mad that it got to be with her instead of him. With a jar of his head he shook it off, annoyed at himself, but aroused like an animal scenting a mate in heat. He pushed himself away from the door frame, where he lingered drinking her in, shedding his clothes to bare the body he knew made her melt.

Over the bed he stood, absurdly pleased by the fact that she was sprawled onto his side, her face burrowed into the mould of his pillow like she wanted to be near him. It was something he and his cock were equally enamoured with, the partially hard flesh rising to an aching mast, saluting her. He needed to be inside her, to be surrounded by her, to possess her the same way he needed to breathe and eat. She was the only one that could put to rest the demons that clawed wild and hungry inside his head.

He stroked himself, the hard rod the measure of his need for her. When she stirred, feeling their draw, even in her dreams, he swelled some more, thrilled by the connection streaking between them like the feed of a power supply. The delicate turn of her legs tangled with the sheets, her thighs sliding together as if she already felt him there.

He licked his lips, taking in the glow of her skin under the pool of light, the contrast between the chalk-white, rumpled sheets and the cream of her smooth limbs searing an impossibly erotic image into his brain that he couldn’t understand, but never got enough of. He itched to rid her of the tiny cotton boy-leg panties she was wearing, to feast on the secrets they were covering, but for a heart stopping minute he could only stare.

He took in the round of her breast, the mound spilling tantalisingly from the side of her tank top that had twisted around her body to reveal it to him like a willing third partner in a ménage. Fuck yeah, he thought, his eyes glued to the pert swell calling for his mouth with its blatant invitation – that was where he was going to start.

Impossibly, surprisingly, de-fucking-lightfully her body responded, her soft nipples visible through the thin fabric of her white tank tightened, the piked tips poked, pointing at him, issuing a challenge he would rather die than refuse. Taking his weight on the flex of his corded arms he caged her in with his body, relishing the shot of satisfaction the protective, possessive position gave him.

With the hunger of a thousand men he ran the flat of his tongue along the curve of exposed breast, nudging the edge of the tank just far enough to feel the tickle of the sexy, small bumps surrounding her pebbled tip. She moaned, then sighed, the sound making him want to beat his chest with a growl, announcing to the world his claim on this woman, his angel.

More blood rushed to fill his shaft, already painfully full, it flared the crown of his head that was now pulsing, it’s desire eclipsing his need to make it last. Desperation rolled through him, riding his spine with a zing of lusty impulses. For a beat he waited for saliva to pool in his mouth then his black head bent over her other breast. He closed his mouth over the tip and the firm flesh around it. Hot moisture flowed from his mouth, seeping into the fabric of her top. When he was sure that he achieved his goal he pulled back. The barrier of her tank disappeared with translucency, the dark nipple clear, all but naked. Staring at it his heart slammed into the curved bones of his ribs, and his cock jerked, angry in its neglect.

He shifted, turning on his side for a better view. He ran his hand up her leg, dipping between her joined thighs to part them. On instinct her body obeyed his powerful volition. She rolled onto her back, her legs apart for his pleasure. The slick patch between her legs made her white panties cling to her lips, outlining their swollen fullness, the vision driving him near mindless with want because he knew she was wet for him. Her body producing its cream like a gift to slicken the driving friction of his granite hard cock.

With a gentleness that belied the furious need boiling in his veins he ran the very tip of his finger down the seam of her pussy, the musky smell like ambrosia, flaring his nostrils. Fuuuuck, his mind reeled, everything he had wanted to own her, even his fucking nose was greedy for a piece of her. Her hips jolted, arcing into his delicate touch, pushing his finger right into her button.

His head snapped up to watch her face when he heard the air hiss past her parted lips. He was enthralled, and he wanted more. Softly he pushed again, directly onto that tiny pearl of nerves that could make her come. Her head thrashed on a thready moan that made his throbbing length all but boing in anticipation. It was almost comical if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt he might burst. It was time to wake her up. Keeping his eyes trained on her expression he raked his teeth over the hard bud of her breast and pushed his favourite button again.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped. For a split second only did she look bewildered before her eyes softened with a love/lust combo that never failed to smack him square in the gut. Another second later and he was on her, covering her as his tongue took a fervent tour of her mouth. The heavy sack that held what he wanted to give her drew up, loading for the spill of his release.

Yep, he thought through the haze of his craving for her, two whole days without filling her with it was way too fucking long.

When they were like this it was as though they were suspended, in a moment where he gained a superpower. His skin was like an extension of his hands, stroking her everywhere. Every single one of his senses was firing, heightened, acutely touching, tasting, hearing, seeing, smelling, even intuiting. The input from the join of their bodies fed into his psyche, the stimuli sparking into a feeling so overwhelming he could only describe it as a visceral connection.

Logic told him that between the two of them they managed to get rid of her clothes but it felt like it simply melted away. He really didn’t care how the hell it happened as long as it meant there was nothing between them. On the rare moments when his lips left hers he licked her jaw, her neck, even her cheek so he could hear her desperate little mewls. He was oblivious to his own grunts and growls, too caught up in the trap of her body to care for much else.

Her body was writhing against him, her arms sliding over him, tantalising his skin with pinpricks of pure pleasure. If her hands weren’t gripping his straining muscles, she fisted them in his hair, tugging and pulling as if she wanted him closer. What should have been painful was made insanely erotic whenever her nails scraped him, or her teeth grazed him.

With a rough hand he cupped the back of her thigh and hitched her leg over his hip. Poised at her slick opening their stares fused with the same connection their bodies were about to make. As if he needed the temptation, the invitation even, she tipped her pelvis, spurring him on. He growled, bracing himself for the hard slide of his shaft before punching into her with his hips.

“Gideon!” The feminine cry of his name was as hot as the drag of her nails over the vast plane of his back.

“Eva,” he gritted through his bolted jaw, his teeth bared in a primal grimace.

He gave her a moment to adjust to his girth, taking it too – for himself – to stave off white-hot streak of bliss that rushed him right to the edge of a cliff. After a ragged breath he withdrew, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his cock dragged through the clenching ripples of her tight hole.

“I’ve missed you angel.” The words spilled from his mouth to hers.

He heard it, but he didn’t know how he managed to form them, he even forgot to care when he plunged into her again.

“Me too,” she breathed.

Her body rocked into him, greedily asking him for more, and he was damned if he was going to deny such a sweet demand. He closed any gaps between them, pushing her deeper into the mattress, virtually making her take his full weight. She opened for him, accommodating the deeper push of his stiff stem, and he took it. With her, even a fraction of an inch made him feel closer.

With the leverage of his knees he thrust into her. Now sure that she could take him, he worked her like a piston. He swore he could feel the hot burn of her clit rubbing against him. This close, with every drag and drive, he could give her the extra friction she needed.

The time away from her really fucked with his control, and right now she was shredding it, easily obliterating it by simply being. Never mind that he was buried inside her, that he filled her balls-deep, and her wet sides all but choked him in a vice-like squeeze as her body started to tremble with orgasm. Not that he was complaining because fuck knew, he too, was about to blow.

“Look at me,” he gritted, panting.

She did. With her lips parted, her eyes wide she gave herself to him, milking him into oblivion. This was the moment he lived for. Her face, already beautiful, spilled her every secret when she came. He could see every dream, every hope she held for them, but most of all he got lost in the depth of her love. Her eyes shone with it, glowed, and when she screamed his name with her lust-hoarse voice he came apart at the seams, flying off, completely undone. Every muscle in his body seized, locked into a spasm of blinding pleasure, shaking him with the violence of a quake.

“Eva,” the way he said it made his reverence for her clear. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he could never say it. It wasn’t enough to describe what he felt for her, but still she understood because she answered.

“Gideon, I love you.”

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