It was a scramble to get rid of all of the layers covering your bodies, shaking breaths keeping the heat between you, lips stealing passionate and fast kisses where they could. Impatient and eager, Killer struggles and groans in annoyance when your shirts and pants and undergarments don't come off as fast as he needs them to.
Finally. The last article is discarded to the floor. Your naked bodies come together, skin touching skin in a way that fogs his mind with raw need. Carnal lust. This wasn't supposed to be so desperate, but he didn't hear you complaining.
He doesn't give you a moment to say anything as he picks you up by your legs and presses your back against the wall. He fits as if he was meant to be there in between your legs. And the heat and wetness he feels at your entrance makes him swear a harsh breath against your cheek.
You beg. A tiny, breathy little thing that he barely hears, but it's enough. Killer can't stand a single second without feeling you, without knowing the way you'd cry out for him as you tremble and shiver. His cock slides in so easy. It's too much. It's not enough. He begins to slide back and then in again, fingers tightening under your thighs.
Killer's a panting mess by the time he becomes aware of the fact that you weren't actually pinned to the wall by his hips, moaning his name into his ear. He feels the tell-tale signs of his excitement from his dream, shifting uncomfortably in the sticky boxers he'd gone to bed in.
As gross as he felt, he didn't move to clean up, giving himself time to come down from the lust still left over in his veins. He was shaky, disappointed. He'd only just started with you in his dream. It had felt so real, so good, all ripped away in an instant.
Perhaps he should have been ashamed, dreaming of such erotic things with you, someone he hadn't even admitted the way he felt to. But for as guilty as he felt, the satisfaction he typically got from a nearly complete dream almost outweighed it.
Almost. He of course still felt bad, but until he was certain you felt the same, his guilty pleasures would simply have to remain just that.
ns 15.158.61.17da2