When they first get together, they
disappear into each other for a few weeks. They are that couple that do
everything together, touch constantly, sit-on-the-same-side-of-the-booth sort
of couple. The sort of couple that would be annoying if they weren’t so sweet.
They also become the I-need-you-now-right-now-all-the-time sort of couples.
The day after he retires he shows up
at her place and kisses her before she can greet him. It’s like floodgates open
up. Like every intense look, every charged conversation, every touch had been
building to this and as soon as they let themselves be together, they get
addicted. He’s addicted.
Mike feels like he tastes nothing but
her skin for days, like he’s living off her and her off him.
They spend hours memorizing and
learning, becoming experts in each other. Mike knows that Ginny will lose her
mind if he whispers to her about how good it feels to be inside her; he knows
that if he bites on her shoulder she’ll whine like she’s dying; he knows that
if she’s riding him she’ll tune him out completely and do whatever she wants to
chase her pleasure.
It’s heady, intense, as beautiful as
it is obscene.
He’s on top of her, kissing her deeply,
rocking into her body in a lazy way that makes her twitchy and impatient. But
he knows she loves it just as much, loves to exist with him, connected and
She moans wonderfully and tries to
buck her hips into his, but he stops his movement, muscles tensing with the need to
thrust, but the sounds she makes are worth it.
“Impatient, Baker?” He says
with a cocky smile.
“Shut up and do that thing I
like, old man,” she tries to be assertive but she’s breathless and her
voice sounds raw.
“What thing would that be?”
He rocks his hips again, watching her eyes close and her head tilt back. He
doesn’t mean to be smug, but there are a lot of things he does that she
“Mike! I swear to go-” she
chokes out a breath when he starts rocking into her in earnest, hitting that
spot inside her that makes her forget her name and inevitably leads to angry
red marks blooming along his back from where she can’t help but claw at him in
He loves it, craves it, needs to make
her feel this way. Needs to make sure she knows, deep down, just how well he
can make her fall apart.
Man I’m so freaking glad I ship wincest. I don’t have to search for hidden subtext or try and obsessively find “proof” for my ship. Nope. I have brothers who sold their soul for each other, who defeated the devil because of how strong their love was. I have soulmates who wouldn’t put anything infront of the other, who would leave behind anything and anyone else, whose love is stone number one. My ship is the greatest love story ever told.