You were making dinner after an argument with Keegan, hickeys all over your neck and grip marks staining your hips and .. other places. While cooking, he came up behind you, hugging your waist and burying his face into your hair. “I’m sorry.” He groaned, lightly dragging his lips up your neck and trying to tilt your head back into a kiss.

He always did this, tried to coax you out of your pouts with kisses and sex. If not that— (which you loved anyway) it was roses, perfumes, cuddles, anything else that you could ever ask for. Slowly you gave him a forced kiss and looked away as he smirked, placing his large palm against your front and forcing your bum against his straining trousers. Causing him to shift in arousal even as he initiated it.

“I love you baby, I hate arguing so please.. let me make it up to you?” He pleaded, his other hand slightly moving over your stomach to graze over your nipple— You snapped your hand out and caught his wrist. A deathening scowl lining your features. “I’m still sore..” You scoffed, causing him to retreat with a disappointed furrow. He turned and left you a bit relieved, empty but.. relieved. That’s until he turned off the stove and spun you around, lifting you onto the counter and getting on his knees. “I’m sorry, baby, please.” He practically growled, nuzzling his hardened features into your (gorgeous) thunder thighs.

Yes… you were still aching with hickeys all over and subtle sores from your most intimate moments but… You couldn’t be mad at him. Especially when he looked so hot like this.

“I will take you to the best pub in the city tonight, just .. don’t let any guys touch you and we can have a good time. I want you, baby no— I fucking need you.”