They kiss like teenagers.
Make out and frantically paw at each other like two hormonal kids on prom night.
Richie reminds himself one of them is a teenager as he bites gently at Kate’s lower lip.
“Richie -,” she always makes the sweetest noises. Little soft gasps and whimpers she tries to hold back. When she whispers his name it means she’s getting needy.
They haven’t fucked yet. Just heavy petting and kissing, Kate shaking in his arms and scratching at his neck. It’s like she wants to dig her way inside of him, penetrate him before he can slide smooth and hard inside her.
Richie kisses her palm, down her wrist. He loves how small she is, how petite her hands are. His body covers hers completely when he lays over her, heavy cock pressing against the softness of her tummy. He can lift her with no effort, not just because he’s supernaturally gifted but because she’s light as air.
Pliable, lovely Katie.
So small, but her humanity fills her to the brim. She might be easy to carry but her soul is weighed down.
Kate lifts her head and licks into his mouth like she wants to taste everything inside him, the good and the bad. He groans, lets her suck on his tongue how she likes. Everything always gets so messy, spit on their chins and her cunt soaking his pant leg when she gets really wound up and rides his thigh.
Her blunt little nails dig into his back under his shirt as he cups her jaw and sips at her delicate mouth. Richie likes to tease her, pull back again and again until she whines and practically growls, kissing him deep and biting hard on his thick lips.
Again, it’s like she wants to tear him apart and look inside of him. Try to understand who and what he is. Play in his organs and piece him back together into something she can comprehend.
Find out where his darkness comes from and study it.
He knows she sees the same darkness inside herself sometimes.
“Richard, fuck.” He smirks at the way the expletive sounds coming from her. With that slight Southern twang, she still sounds like a pure little girl straight from church. But a little girl who’s slipping her leg slowly between his, denim skirt riding up her hips as she presses her wet pussy on him.
He shifts on his side, raising his leg slowly and fitting his thick thigh between her legs. Rests his palm gently on her hip, only slightly pulling her forward encouragingly. Kate wraps her arms around him and moans loud against his mouth, her berry red lips parted over his.
His kisses pass over her chin, down her throat. He can sense her pulse and practically smell the sharp, tart flavor of her blood. Something inside him ripples and threatens to burst out but he holds back, pressing a chaste kiss to her collarbone as she grinds against him.
“Oh, oh.” The sweetest fucking noises, goddamn it.
“Got yourself soaked, Katie? Bet your panties are stuck to that pink little cunt right now.” Richard smiles against her neck, feels her cheek against his heat up with fiery shame even as she rides him harder, bumping her clit on his thigh.
He dreams about her cunt. Knows it’s the prettiest, softest thing. Imagines her, dripping wet over his face, baptizing him in her pure animal desire and letting him drink of her.
But he won’t push her. It’s even better this way, watching her give him herself inch by inch, sometimes jumping a mile ahead and then back again. Kate still thinks she needs to be good, even after all she’s done. After robbing and killing, even now Kate doesn’t want to admit that it feels good to let herself be a monster.
“I’m going to make you come so hard when I finally fuck you, sweetheart.” He practically spits into her ear, gripping her curvy rear in one hand as she ruts on him. “Know you’re thinking about it. My big, hard cock stretching that little pussy. Bet it’s aching for it, empty and clenching. Jesus, Kate. I can feel it now, the slick grip of it.”
He pulls back, watching her face. Mouth drawn into a little o, brow furrowed so cute. Kate shifts closer still, hips shaking, tummy bumping his cock. Richard grunts, taking the offered inch and turning it into a mile, laying over her quickly and slipping her arms over her head.
Doesn’t move, just searches her face. Kate blinks her eyes open slowly, soft lashes fluttering like moth’s wings. Strands of her hair are thrown over her face and there’s tears pooled in the inner corners of her eyes.
His back shakes, wanting to push forward but he waits.
Still he grips her thin wrists, her fingers clenching open and closed at the air. Kate slips her tongue over her lips, breathing out slow. A little whine crawls its way out of her throat as she arches her back, nipples stiff under her top. Not for the first time he wonders how they’d feel passing over his tongue.
“God, Richard.” She tells him yes with this, and he chuckles. Plays it in his head like he’s her God, giving her forgiveness and love by dry humping her until she comes.
The truth is even he himself isn’t ready for more. He feels a sort of power over her because she’s young, and because she lets him have that power, but he’s not exactly an expert. The idea of being her first, of her giving him that gift, makes his hands shake a little.
So let it be.
Kate wraps her little legs around his waist and lets him practically fuck her with their clothes on. It’s awkward and slightly sweaty, mostly for her, Richard still feeling his veins heat up and his cock throb.
He spreads her arms out, stretched out on either side of her and thrusts between her forgiving thighs.
Her body feels so small beneath his, soft and vulnerable. But Kate practically snarls and growls as she pulls her hands loose and claws at him, nails digging into his shoulders and slicing into his skin. Richard feels his blood drip over his arm and watches a drop blossom on the white sheet next to her face.
“More, more, more,” she pants, legs like a vise around him, throat bared like an offering as she tips her head back.
He is not a good man.
The thought crosses his mind that he could, could lean down and rip into her porcelain white neck and taste that which he can sense, that dark crimson life inside her.
Richard imagines himself morphing into her small frame, Kate completely taking him over inside and out. He chuckles, feeling half crazed and human, imagining the sight.
She’s close, the way she pants harshly, clinging to him with her blood stained nails.
The golden glint of her cross is hidden, fallen back into her hair behind her neck. Just a thin chain drapes over her throat, closer to the pulse that keeps pumping loud in his ears.
He can smell her, the desperate, horny scent of her, and his head swims.
He comes first, much like a teenage boy, explodes thickly in his pants. Richard might grip her hips a little too hard, bruising her skin. But she doesn’t complain.
It’s like that ripple inside creeps down his back and out of his cock, and for a moment he’s pure. Cleansed by her raw need, by the way she accepts the darkness inside herself and opens her arms to him.
Even though he’s panting past his afterglow, he wants her even more. Just begs, “do you trust me?” over her face and she nods so quickly he almost thinks he’s imagined it.
Richard slides down over her, hooking her legs over his shoulders and pushing her skirt up, stiff denim slipping over her stomach.
It’s all sweet, sweet moans and sighs as Richie licks at her through her panties. Katie grips his hair in her tiny hand, pulling so hard he can feel a few strands slip from his follicles. He feasts on her like a starving man, like a beggar on the street. Sucking and mouthing, pushing his face against her cunt and letting her grind her clit over his nose.
Even when he’s torn into someone and literally eaten them alive, it doesn’t compare to how crazed and hungry he feels right now. Weak for the softness of her on his face, the slickness that’s just for him that he sips through her underwear like wine.
Her thighs lock around his face and he imagines her reaching down and staking him through the back right now.
“Oh, fuck - oh - goddammit, Richard!”
The angel comes, messy and loud.
It drips out of the side of her panties and he does, he licks at the exposed pillowy labia of her cunt. The first real taste, stolen.
He feels more like an artist than ever before, coaxing her into letting him take that Heavenly sip.
Kate shakes beneath him and calls him a bastard but he smirks.
They go back to sweet, soft kissing after. But now Kate’s licking her own orgasm from his lips, and he knows she’s thinking about next time.
Thinking about which long mile she’s going to pull him down.