Not Far

Jean is subjected to a rude awakening when she parts ways with her best friend. She makes her way to Washington D.C. before finally running into a group of survivors, but is she in for more than she bargained for? Will she slowly lose her mind in this lonely world of devastation and no hope?


8. Something New

Owen leaned forward closing the gap between us, pressing his lips to mine in a-surprisingly-gentle way. I kissed back, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning back, allowing him to hover over me. I ran my tongue along his lower lip before he pulled away. He looked down at me with darkened, coal-like eyes and a slight smile on his face. I ran my fingers through his long, tangled, brown locks as he trailed kisses down my neck and lightly pulled at my disgusting tank top.

  I sat up and pulled my tank top off, flinging it to the other side of the tent. He slipped out of his tattered, greyish-blue coat without breaking contact as he licked and sucked the spot behind my ear. My hands immediately made their way to my shorts, undoing the button and zipper before pulling them down hastily. I then peeled my long socks off, pulling away from Owen for a brief moment, looking up at him with blushing cheeks, panting like a dog in the hot, summer sun, in nothing but my underwear.

  His eyes scanned my form, taking everything in before unclipping my bra and throwing it into some random corner of the tent. I grasped onto his first shirt, tugging it over his head, before laughing. He looked down at me, tilting his head slightly.

  "What?" He panted. I shook my head.

  "Why the fuck are you wearing two shirts?" I laughed. He looked down, huffing for a moment before looking back up at me and shrugging.

  "I have no clue." He smiled. I giggled once again and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He pulled away for a brief moment to take off his second shirt, before returning to our kiss. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, deepening our kiss as his hands roamed my body, touching and squeezing my breasts, and placing his hands on my hips in order to pull me closer. I wrapped my legs around his waist and waited for him to pull his jeans down. He gripped my underwear and tugged the garment down my legs. He pulled away, his hands trailing down to his jeans to unbutton them painstakingly slow. I glared up at him.

  I looked away for a split second, a little frustrated with his teasing, and next thing I knew I was moaning and clawing at Owen's back. His head dipped into the crook of my neck as he groaned at the contact. He began to thrust at a slow pace, giving us enough time to become accustom to each other. As he picked up the pace, he moved his head to my shoulder biting down causing me to shiver in pleasure. I found it hard to contain my cries of pleasure as he animalistically-for lack of a better term-made love to me. In all honesty, I felt bad for the rest of our group who were trying to sleep in the close-by tents, but I couldn't help it.

  As Owen focused on other places on my body, all I could do was stare up at the ceiling and occasionally(frequently) roll my eyes upward in pleasure. I thrusted my hips, matching Owen's pace, feeling as if I were on the verge of exploding with pleasure. My moaning became louder as my inner walls contracted, and I clutched onto his shoulders, my nails digging into his soft flesh. He picked up his pace yet again, if that was even possible. It was all too much for me, I felt drained by the time I had come.

  "I'm almost there, baby..." He uttered, slamming into me at an inhuman speed. I panted and stifled a whiny moan, pushing myself up on my elbows and dangling my head back, exposing my neck to my lover. He lifted his head for a moment to brush his hair out of his face before noticing my current position and took advantage of it, attacking my neck with kisses and bites.

  "Oh fuck." He muttered into my neck, his facial hair tickling at the sensitive skin. He stifled a loud groan as he twitched within me, spilling himself inside me. We spent the next few moments catching our breath, him still inside of me, still hovering over me. Eventually, he rolled off of me, lying next to me and pulling me closer. He traced the bite mark on my shoulder and observed every little mark he made.

  "Get some rest, we have a long day tomorrow." He whispered in my ear. I turned around in his grasp, leaning up to kiss him. I gently placed my lips to his for a few moments before pulling away and looking up at him with what could only be considered as doe eyes. He smiled at me and place his hand on my cheek.

"I love you." I told him. His smile only grew wider.

"I... I love you too." He tapped the bite mark on my shoulder, and I followed his hand as he performed this action. He then lightly grabbed ahold of my chin, tilting my head up so I was looking him in the eye.

"You're mine. Everyone should be aware of that now." He told me, all I could do was nod in response.

  Over the next few weeks, almost every night, Owen and I had been together. We were almost inseparable. I made sure to protect him at all costs, he was my everything, and I would do anything for him. Just a few days after we took the tents, we found perfectly good cots in an abandoned store, there were only two left and Owen had already-basically-called dibs on them for us. I understood why, ever since I came back we had sex almost every night. I wasn't sure why. Not that I was complaining or anything, I just wanted to know where this sudden libido came from. So, I asked him.

  "Owen?" He looked up from his lap where a book laid. He was fully engrossed in it and I felt bad for interrupting him, but I had to know. I sat up, clutching the thin sheet to my bare chest. He tilted his head like an innocent puppy would.

"Something wrong?" He asked, sounding genuinely worried. I shook my head. He straightened up.

"No, I just-"

"Then can I get back to my book?" He asked impatiently. I huffed, speaking up before he could become immersed in his book again.

"Why have we been sleeping with each other so often?" I asked, trying to keep this statement from sounding too vulgar. He chuckled to himself as he looked down and began to read once more.

"Simple. I want to get you pregnant." My eyes widened and it felt as if the air had become thicker, making it hard for me to breath.

"What?" I inquired. He looked up again, but this time he didn't bother to look at me.

"Let me rephrase. I want to have kids, and I want to have them with you." I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the inside of my cheek.

"That's only about a one percent improvement from what you said in the first place." I told him bluntly. Why the hell did he want to bring kids into this world anyway?

"And you only had to ask." I continued. His head shot up and he looked at me with wide eyes. I stood from the cot, making my way to where he sat. I draped my arms over his shoulders from behind him, leaning toward his ear.

"As long as it's with you, I'm fine with it." I reassured him.

"But seriously, if you're gonna do something like that, make sure both parties are aware." I scolded. I looked over his shoulder at the book he was reading. I skimmed over the page, not actually taking in any of the information on the pages.

"What are you reading?" I asked out of pure curiosity. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye before answering my simple question.

"An old history book of mine." He answered. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"You were a history nerd?" I asked jokingly. He shook his head with a slight chuckle.

"You are just full of questions tonight. Yes. Okay? I was a historian before all of this." He told me. My eyes widened.

"Surely you jest." I said as I stood up straight, tapping the back of his lawn chair. He turned around, looking at me with an amused expression.

"I just find it so funny that you want to have kids with me but I barely know you." I crossed my arms and looked away.

"The same could be said for you." He quipped. I glared at the back of his head.

"I'm from Long Island, New York. I have a brother named Tony and I was raised by both of my parents. I have a PhD so, technically, I am Dr. Jean. I was briefly a psychiatrist before all of this and my god, do you guys have some problems." I told him, adding that last part about them having problems as a joke. Even if I weren't completely wrong.

"A psychiatrist, huh?"

"Criminal psychiatrist." He nodded and continued on with his business. I turned around and made my way back to our cots which were pushed together. As I sat down, I looked at Owen, wondering when he'd come to bed.

"Owen?" I called out yet again. He looked over at me, head tilted once again. It felt as if I were reliving the same moment from earlier.

"You coming to bed?" I asked. He smiled sweetly at this before closing his book and placing it on the chair, making his way over to me. He crawled over me and onto the other side, holding me close to him.

"What'll we name it? When I get pregnant?" I asked him, looking over my shoulder.

"I have no clue; did you have something in mind?" He asked with a smile wider than the Cheshire cat. I grasped the hand that rested just above my breasts.

"I was thinking... if it's a girl, Allison." I felt him tighten his embrace, as if just the mention of his sister's name hurt him.

"And Bruce if it's a boy." I smiled. I was definitely naming my kid after Batman. His thumb rubbed the side of my hand and he tightened his grip once again, this time in a comforting way.

"I like it. Both of them." He reassured me. I smiled.

"So, why the hell do you want kids anyway? Especially in a world like this." I asked. He smiled at me, kissing my cheek.

"Cause I love you, and I want my kids to bring something new to this group. And yes, plural." He explained. I blushed at his words, 'plural.' But most importantly, he loved me. And with a request like this, that is the most important factor. To me, at least.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...