Curiouser and Curiouser

"choso—" you start, already feeling guilty, already reaching for the hem of his sweater.

he catches your hands and pins them gently above your head. his fingers twine with yours, pressing your palms into the pillow.

"no, sweetheart." he says, his mouth brushing your ear. his voice drops, rough and reverent. "you don’t do the work. you never do the work. you just lay there, princess, and let me take care of you. let me please you. let me—" he grinds his hips down, and you feel how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you gasp. "—let me do everything."

he releases your hands only to finally pull his sweater over his head. you watch the muscles of his back shift in the warm light of your tablelamp, the old scars, the lean strength. when he turns back to you, he’s already unlacing his trousers, pushing them down, kicking them off.

he kneels between your thighs, his dark eyes raking over you. "open up," he murmurs, his hands sliding up your legs, pushing your shift higher. "be good for me, okay?"

you spread your legs, trembling. he’s already so hard, the pink tip flushed and wet, and he wraps his hand around himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes never leaving your face.

"you don’t even have to move," he says, leaning down, caging you in his warmth. "i’ll do all the work. i’ll get you ready. i’ll make you feel so good. all you have to do is look at me. can you do that for me, princess? can you let me love you?"

"yes," you breathe, your voice cracking. "yes, choso, please—"

he kisses you then, deep and filthy, his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that makes your toes curl. his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding you already wet, already aching. he doesn’t make you ask, nor does he make you work for it. he just pushes two fingers inside you, curling them, stretching you open while his thumb circles your clit.

"that’s it," he praises against your lips, feeling you clench around him. "that's my girl. just lay there and take it. let me get you ready for my cock."

you moan, your head falling back against the pillow. he’s relentless, his fingers pumping in and out, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. you try to rock your hips, try to chase the sensation, but he stills you with his free hand on your hip.

"no, angel." he says, his voice firm. "don’t move. let me. i want to feel you squeezing my fingers while you just lay there and let me fuck you open."

you whimper, your hands gripping the sheets because he won’t let you touch him. he’s leaning over you, watching your face, watching the pleasure overwhelm you, and his expression is something almost feral. like this—serving you, controlling your pleasure, doing all the labor—is exactly where he wants to be.

"look at you," he breathes, his fingers moving faster, harder. "so pretty. so perfect. you're doing so well, baby. letting me make you cum. can you do that for me? can you cum on my fingers like a good girl?"

"choso!" you sob, the pressure building, your body tensing.

"there she is," he croons, his thumb pressing down. "cum for me, make a mess of the sheets."

you break, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you cry out. he rides you through it, his hand moving slower now, drawing out every wave until you’re shaking, boneless, your hair fanned out across the pillow.

before you can catch your breath, he’s moving. he hooks his arms under your knees, spreading you wide, his hands sliding up to grip your hips. he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your still-pulsing heat.

"now," he says, his voice rough with restraint. "i’m going to fuck you, and i’m going to make you cum again. and again. until you can’t think. until you can’t even remember your name."

"please," you gasp, your hands reaching for him again, wanting to touch, to hold.

he catches your wrists and presses them back into the mattress. "no," he says, his eyes dark. "be good, or i'll stop. understand?"

you nod, dizzy, your body still throbbing.

he pushes in with one long, smooth thrust, filling you completely. the stretch burns so perfectly you cry out, your back arching off the bed, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your hips.

"fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "so warm. so tight. and you’re just— letting me use you— shit—"

he starts to move, a slow, deep rhythm that has you seeing stars. he’s doing all the work—his hips rolling, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, his hands holding you exactly where he wants you. you try to move, try to meet his thrusts, but he growls and pins you harder.

"stay still," he orders, his voice strained. "let me do this for you. you had a hard day. you smiled at people who didn't deserve it. now you just get to lay here and take my cock. that’s all. that’s your only job."

"ch-choso!" you sob, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. it’s too much, the pleasure, the devotion, the way he’s using his body to serve you. "i love you— hic!— i love you so much—"

"i know," he breathes, his thrusts speeding up, becoming harder, more desperate. his skin slaps against yours, the bed creaking, but he never lets you move. he holds you open, holds you down, fucks into you with a single-minded focus that’s entirely about your pleasure. "and i love you more. god, i love you so much more."

his hand slides between you again, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles. you’re so sensitive from your first orgasm, every touch is electric, overwhelming. you can’t move, can’t do anything but lay there and take it, exactly like he wants, and the helplessness of it, the sheer luxury of being cared for so completely, sends you over the edge again.

you cum with a scream, your walls clamping down on him so hard he chokes, his rhythm faltering.

"that’s it," he gasps, fucking you through it, chasing his own release now. "atta girl. just— shit— i-im gonna—"

he thrusts deep one last time and stills, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes with a broken groan against your neck. you feel the heat of it, the way he spills into you, marking you, claiming you, all while you lay there trembling, his hands still gripping your hips, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

for a long moment, neither of you moves. he’s breathing hard, his chest heaving, sweat slicking his skin. slowly, carefully, he pulls out and collapses beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. he’s still panting, his heart hammering against your ear.

"okay?" he whispers, his hand stroking your hair again, back to the gentle, domestic touches.

you nod, boneless, drifting. "more than okay," you murmur. "felt so good."

"that’s the point," he reminds you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to do anything."

you smile against his chest, your eyes already closing. "then i guess i’m just going to have to let you do it again tomorrow."

now you’re here, legs spread open on the bed with the hoodie pushed up to your ribs, and the beautiful face of your boyfriend buried right between your legs.

“adrian, fuck baby—“, your voice whimpered as his tongue slid over your core. it was frantic and quick, much like his mouth on any other occasion. he was savoring every damn inch of you, making sure he left no spot uncharted. he groaned against you, causing waves of vibrations. he hadn’t even bothered to put his glasses on as the desire to taste you clouded his mind. his hair was a mess from the amount of times you’d gripped at the locks, pulling him closer or giving him a swift tug. you’d made him a wreck without even touching him.

“mmm, fuck, you taste so goddamn perfect,” he babbled against you, the words muffled from how close he was to your clit. he pulled back just the slightest bit to look up at you. the shine of your slick covered his mouth and chin, and he licked his lips before speaking. “i could do this forever baby, you don’t get it. i need it.”

you tried to catch your breath as he spoke, but you lost it again as he dove back down, tongue immediately working relentlessly against you. it felt like desperation, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to savor you for as long as he could or if he wanted to devour you whole.

“please, it’s too much, adrian,” you gasped when your thighs started to shake and you tried to push his head away from you, but to no avail.

he growled at the whines of pleasure and overstimulation, determined to get as much of your release out of you as he could. his fingers pressed deeper into your hips as he pulled you down a little more, closing the gap to hook your legs over his shoulders. he shook his head as he licked, mouth locked onto you. like a dog that refused to let go of its favorite toy.

“mm-mmm, i’m not stopping.” you could feel his lips ghost over you with each word— his tone was rough and lust driven. your head sunk farther back into the pillow when his mouth connected back to your cunt, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm hit fast. your cries of pleasure were drowned out to him, all he focused on was the sweet wet clicking of your soaked core, and delicious taste of the release you offered up to him. his tongue lapped at you without skipping a beat, and you were nearly done in.

“i— i can’t, please, adrian.. baby-", both of your hands now fisted his hair, your mind trying to tug him away but your body betrayed you, with your hips trying to jerk up even more onto his mouth. a needy grown came from adrian as his hips rutted into the mattress. tasting you alone could get him off. he found just as much pleasure in the taste of your pussy as he did being sunken into it, buried to the hilt as the tight warmth clenched against his cock, holding on like your body need him more than life itself.

“yes you can. one more.. you’ll give me one more.” your thighs started quivering yet again as they tightened against his head, that familiar overwhelming sensation creeping up quick. your body arched off the bed as the climax rushed over you. now you sobbed his name, voice raw and breathless. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t.

as yet another orgasm night ripped through, you felt your body begin to go limp. your breaths were shuddering out, and every time you tried to speak, the words came out hoarse. and adrian still clung to you— licking, sucking, and moaning against your overstimulated core like he was drunk off your taste.

and when he finally pulled away, his mouth was swollen, and his nose, lips, and chin were all glistening against the light of the room from the spit and slick he’d been devouring. his pupils were wide as he looked up at you— like you were the best meal he’d ever had, and he worshipped it for the divine taste that fulfilled him. because you were.

a soft almost missable moan escaped adrian as he licked his bottom lip. “nope, never gonna get tired of this. could spend the rest of my life right here. might just do that.”

you would’ve given him a slight laugh at that, had your body recovered from the pleasure. instead, your chest was still rising and falling in shaky breaths as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

and still, adrian kissed your inner thigh softly, inching closer and closer to your core, his nose brushing against where he loved to be most. he muttered quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud: