So when Robert announced that the two of you were engaged, Daddy Dearest threatened to take away Robert's entire inheritance and replace him with someone 'more qualified' in the company. It was infuriating. You had been nothing but polite to the man and nothing but good to his son, but because you came from a working-class background, you were simply not good enough for Robert. Apparently, you were a gold-digging cock-sucking whore in Maurice's eyes. His words and everything, you had heard it all from behind closed doors when you eavesdropped on their conversation— eavesdropped over Maurice's scolding that was so harsh it left Robert in tears. As it often did.

Even with the threat of being left broke and jobless, Robert stayed by your side. You were the only real comfort he'd had in this life, and he wasn't about to give that up just so that he could still have his father's wishy-washy approval. Maurice's words were an empty bluff anyway.

Your engagement party was a disaster, at which you had begged Robert not to invite his father or any of his father's overly handsy friends and business partners, but he had anyway because he knew he had to. Maurice had found a way to make it all about himself as usual. The night had started off grand, in a sage green dress, and the sparkling diamond on your ring finger, you were positively glowing with joy and love for your future husband, who had stood by your side as you greeted each guest. It had been so nice, so special. Robert made you feel like a queen, sitting atop a throne made of soft touches and praiseful murmurs. He was smiling too, a lot, more than he had in a while. Robert always loved showing you off, loved to watch women coo and fuss over you; he especially loved the way other men looked at you, knowing they'd never have you. It was just so divine.

And then the sparkling evening fell flat on its face when Maurice Fischer clinked his champagne glass, with a butter knife you had already contemplated jamming in his jugular, and decided to make a toast in front of your entire family and friends, and even co-workers, spilling embarrassing secrets about Robert, about your relationship, making jokes about how he had placed bets on how long it would 'last', and even more crude jokes about how Robert must cry during sex. Everyone in the crowded room just grimaced and cringed, the spark of celebration suddenly snuffed out by the smug-faced head of Fischer-Morrow, who always knew how to dim your shine, and never knew when to shut his stupid fat gob.

It made you sick how a man could be so casually cruel towards his own child— his only child. If his mother were still alive, you would be sure that she'd slap Maurice right across the face. Hell, you wanted to do it for her, in honor of her name, but you refrained for Robert's sake. After that, Robert had tears brimming in his eyes, face hot and red with humiliation as he kept his head bowed. You were quick to grab his hand and leave, fleeing the place before Maurice could embarrass the pair of you any further. Other people started to pack their things too; the mood was entirely killed. No one was pleased, and no one was amused. Except for Maurice, of course.

That's what led you here, with Robert lying between your legs, hot water holding the two of you in a warm, sudsy cocoon. He had been hysterical in the car on the way back, the driver shooting you concerned glances through the rear view mirror; he was so hysterical, you were almost worried he might pop a blood vessel. He sobbed and shook, waving his hands erratically in the air as he babbled something about how he hated his father and wished he would just die already. You had never seen him this worked up, and you couldn't blame him. All he ever wanted was his father's love.

But you always knew how to soothe him, always knew how to give him what he needed. So here the two of you laze, flickering candles lining the rim of your clawfoot bathtub and bubbles crackling and swaying with each ripple of the silky water. Robert looked like an angel when he was like this, eyes squeezed shut and lips wrapped around your nipple. All you could do was caress your fingers through his hair, rubbing at his scalp as he suckled on your tit like it was his only lifeline, which in moments like these, it probably felt like that to him. His left hand lay on your waist while the other kneaded and squeezed your right breast in his hand, holding a fistful of your flesh. Robert's head was blank and empty, and his previous qualms had been eased into silence. If you were to ask him any kind of serious question right now, he’d merely reply with a dumb caveman-like grunt and then swiftly return to sucking. You were his own personal sanctuary.

"Oh Robbie..." You cooed softly, eyes half-lidded as you watched the way his eyelashes fluttered and flitted, nose scrunched up as he licked and lapped at the bud of your breast. Heaven, he was in heaven. His head perked up at the sound of your voice crooning his name, looking up with those wide blue eyes of his, all without pulling off from you. You laughed fondly, watching the way he finally popped off you. With spit all over his lips and chin, his hand moved to grasp your breast, squeezing and palming it as he slathered more soap all over the globes of your chest. Robert, easily distracted, hardly paid attention to your wanting stare, too absorbed in the way your tits looked covered in suds and moulded in his big, kneading hands.

"Mmm...?" He hummed, eyes glazed over and glossy, a bleary look on his face as his hips slotted between your thighs, leaky cock sliding between your folds. He was drunk on you, lost in a bliss that had him all forgetful of the rough evening he had. "Wha...?" Robert looked as clueless as ever, as if you had just pulled him out of another world, and in a way, you had.

A path was drawn with your fingertips, sliding down over his chest and the slight pudge of his stomach, even stopping to play with the dark tufts of hair that grew along the way of your trail. And then your hand found his cock, hanging heavy and thick in your palm. Robert's eyelashes flittered, his hips adjusting forward like some kind of greedy puppy dog, desperate for more, maybe a little too over-eager for it. He'd take anything you gave him, as long as it was you. The warm water made it too easy to work him, fingers curling around the base of him and squeezing experimentally, just to hear him whimper.

You hold him like you would a leash; firm, commanding, and tight. Tiny waves swayed over the pair of you with each jerk of your wrist and Robert's pathetic little ruts, desperate to have more, desperate for you to keep going. He'd be happy even if this was all you gave him tonight. Your left hand, the one so brilliantly adorned with his engagement ring, cupped his face tenderly, thumb brushing along the arch of his cheekbone. Robert was so pretty it hurt, like some kind of marble statue you would wonder over for hours on how it was possible for any human being to create such perfection. How did a wretched, rotten man like Maurice Fischer produce a delicate beauty like Robert? You'd seen photos of his mother; he looked just like her. The only slight resemblance he held to his father was his coloring and maybe the ridge of his eyebrows.

"Ah... Fuck..." He hissed, letting his head fall back down like his mouth was magnetically drawn to your nipple, lips wrapping around the soft, sweet bud. The chemical taste of soap on his tongue didn't matter, not when your thumb swiped across the pink head of his cock, lips gasping around your nipple as he sucked on you harder, his eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration like this was the most important thing in the world. Like a man on a mission. "Mm... Pleasmmph... Mmm..." A muffled bunch of words vibrating through you as his cock twitched in your warm hand.

"God, you're sweet." You chuffed, gripping him firmer and fisting him faster, watching the way the lean muscles in his stomach tightened and quivered-- no doubt from the pleasure that was curling itself around his insides. Robert's eyes shot open, eyelashes framing those baby blues and fluttering with each slow blink.

"You... You shouldn't baby me so much," Robert huffed out, mouth hovering over your nipple. He almost sounded frustrated. Right as he started to speak again, an involuntary whimper escaped from between his pink lips when you started focusing your hand's attention right on the tip of him. He was just so sensitive, so susceptible to your touch. "I don't..." Robert whined, eyebrows scrunched up as he finally looked up at you, pleading with you. "Don't know what I'd do without you, mommy..." He dived into you then, kissing you so suddenly you could almost taste the words on his very tongue. Your tongue was lacing with his in no time, sticky taste buds suctioning together as he started eagerly fucking up into your fist. Robert's hips rippled with each harsh jut, muscles trembling beneath the skin of his backside. At this point, you weren't even doing much of the work; his body had a mind of its own as he licked into your mouth and thrusted into your clasped fingers. He was getting closer; you could tell that much by the way his hips recoiled and stuttered in their giddy thrusts. "Robert...." You breathed out shakily, just as affected by the sight of him like this as he was by you. Your legs spread, clit pounding furiously to the point it was all you could think about, and your ankles hooked over his hips, digging into his lower back and pulling him closer. When you let go of his twitching cock, he gasped, eyes widening in astonishment and offense. "Need it inside, baby, yeah." You sighed, biting back a smile at the look on his face. "Mhm..." Robert huffed, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as his nose nudged against yours, his hands finding your waist as the head of his cock notched against your entrance. "So warm, mommy," Robert said delightedly, eyes squeezing shut, eyelashes fanning out across his cheek, lips parted now as he pushed into you. His face gradually gets more scrunched up until he's finally seated in you, mouth fallen open in a tight 'o' and eyebrows knitted together. He looked like he was struggling not to bust right there. "Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Oh fuck..." His voice was all pathetic and high-pitched, like he couldn't control the way he sounded; your walls pulsing around him certainly didn't help.

"You're so worked up, honey," You purred, though your control was surely loosening with each nudge against your G-spot. Your fingers clawed at his back, feeling the delicious flex of muscle underneath softer-than-silk skin. Robert's whines escaped his mouth in time with each thrust, every time the tip of his cock bottomed out inside you, another gasp or another whimper would fall out of his mouth like a mantra, getting breathier with each second passing.

"Mommy, I'm not gonna last like this, o-oh god... I..." His voice falters, eyes half-lidded as he looks up at you. He lifts you upright suddenly so you're straddling him, and for a moment, you think that's his signal for you to start moving, for you to take control, but that thought was quick to be wiped from your brain as he starts thrusting up into you with a newfound kind of vigor. "Need to cum..." He cries. "Need to cum, mommy, please let me cum..." He pleads as if you could deny him when he was like this.

Robert's fingers dig into the fat of your hips, one hand moving down to grab a handful of your ass as he rocks you back and forth, all while moving his hips in steady, hard ruts. The bath was half-empty by now, suds of soap and puddles of water soaking the bathroom floor, more splashing out with every movement the two of you made.

"R-Robert...!" You exclaimed, mouth falling open, eyes widening momentarily before rolling into the back of your head. Your orgasm had hit you out of nowhere, washing over your body from head to toe. You clamped down tight around him, body falling slack in his arms as you kept them tight around his neck. Robert wasn't a particularly big man, but he was strong and sturdy and could manipulate your body in his hold however he pleased, even in a state like this. "Robbie... Nghhh... Oh god... I... Fuck... Oh fuck..." The rest of the words that fell from your mouth were mostly unintelligible; your orgasm had seeped deep into the wrinkles of your brain by now. Your toes curled, jaw slack, thighs shaking around him as he picked up the pace.

"Oh my god, mommy, are you cumming? A-Am I making you cum...?" Robert panted out, letting out a low, stiff grunt as his face fell forward, burying his nose between the warmth of your bouncing tits. He could die happy like this, he thought, wrapped up in you like this. "Please... Oh god... Please..." He was so loud, and he didn't even realize it, voice echoing off the tiled walls of your steamy en suite.

You felt it then, hot spurts of his cum filling you, though with the lukewarm bath water around you, it all mixed in as one feeling. You were coming down now, but still, your orgasm was intense and hot to the touch and had you all boneless and dumb. Your fingers lazily card through the baby hairs that had grown too long at the base of Robert's head, your nose nudging at the crowns of his forehead. His mouth was back on you again, your back arching into him as he sucked eagerly on your nipple once more. Robert's hips slowed down, his hands still holding onto your hips like his life depended on it, resting the weight of his head on your warm chest as he lazily sucked at you.

You stayed like that for a little longer until you managed the strength to pull away. The bath had gone cold by now, and as you rose from the cold, soapy water, water dripped down the elegant rolls and curves of every crevice of your body. Robert stayed on his knees, eyes widening as he looked up at you like he was witnessing some kind of fertility goddess hovering above him. Once again, his hands were on your hips, eyebrows furrowed in a quiet sort of pleading, mouth getting closer to your wet, creamy cunt, dripping bath water, and his recent spend.

The hazy light of the bathroom glowed from behind your head, forming an illusion of a halo, light catching in your hair. You didn't stop him; you simply leaned back against the cool wall, focusing on trying not to slip as you held onto his brown locks. Robert latched on quick, tongue swiping through your sticky folds and moaning even louder than he had when he had his cock buried in you. You tasted like bathwater and cum, so clean and wet and so fucking warm. His tongue rolled continuously over your throbbing clit, sucking it into his mouth entirely until he had you cumming all over again on his pretty face just like that. A mix of your arousal and cum covering his lips and tongue, covering his chin in an iridescent shine. He lapped you up, obscene slurping heard as he burrowed his nose right against your heat, breathing your scent in and moaning against it.

"Mommy," Robert hummed, more like a praise rather than a title. It was when he started to lean back in for more that you stopped him. You were tired and god, you hated telling him no, but when he was in these submissive moods, he was insatiable, and he was probably already getting hard again. You were tired, and as much as you loved having his mouth on you, you just wanted to crawl into bed and hold him. "Taste so good..." He added, trying one last time to convince you. "Nuh-uh..." You denied with a dopey smile, running your fingers through his wet hair as you stepped out of the tub. Robert sighed, pulling the plug out and letting the water screech as it drained. "It's late, you had your fill, honey." "Never enough," He whispered, coming up from behind you, wrapping you up in his arms. "Jus' wanna be close to you," He rasped out, voice low and gravelly, breath smelling of you as it fanned your neck. You could tell he was starting to come out of his dazed state by the way he was talking, voice low and baritone again instead of breathy and whiny like before.

"Mhm," You mused, peering back at him from over your shoulders, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously at him, only for him to groan in response. He was so easy to tease. His fingers ran over your hips and tummy, kneading at the flesh. "You say that every time." "And every time I mean it more than the last, I'm obsessed with your body," He huffed, burying his nose into the crook of your neck as you grabbed the pair of you each a towel. He said those words as if you weren't already fully aware. "My fuckin' wife..." Robert said more to himself than to you, really. "Your future wife," You corrected with a fond smile, pecking his flushed cheek and handing him the fluffy white towel. "Don't get ahead of yourself now," You giggle as you towel yourself down, wrapping yourself up in the towel that probably costs more than it should. Everything in this house had some kind of ridiculous price tag on it. "The wedding's not for another two months..." "Make it a week," Robert purred, and that's what had you pausing, a question mark practically appearing above your head. "I can't wait any longer, I want you as my wife now, I want to finally make you Mrs. Fischer..." He insisted, he was convincing that it was for sure. You were so choked up at the idea that he wanted it so soon that you couldn't even speak; you only sputtered and then thrusted yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "My father won't be happy, but I don't care; he won't be there, in fact, it'll just be us and maybe a few of our close friends."

You had felt the same way; you'd been waiting to get married for so long now. All the closer dates didn't match up with Robert's busy schedule. He had initially wanted a big wedding, with business partners and distant relatives there, and investors of all kinds, and while you had been hesitant, you agreed. As long as you two were getting married, that was all that mattered to you, even if you weren't too thrilled by the idea of some flashy wedding. But things had changed, and Robert had a change of heart. You could see it in his eyes, a new kind of determination that didn't involve his father or the business. Just the two of you. "You really mean it...?" You whispered, eyebrows raised, wary enough to not get your hopes up. "I'll call my assistant in the morning, he'll arrange it," Robert nodded, leaning closer. Sometimes it really felt like it was just the two of you in this godforsaken world, lost in your own little world. "You'll be mine, and there'll be nothing my father can do to ruin this for us." Then he was sweeping you off your feet, picking you up bridal style, of course, and carrying you to your shared bed, which was too big for its own good. You felt ecstatic in that moment, an overwhelming sense of excitement and affection washing over you as Robert and you made love right there in that very bed. Robert was content once more, no longer a simpering mess of a man but confident and sure of himself, taking control as he lay on top of you.

"No one can take you away from me..." He'd whisper into your hair as you fell asleep, nude bodies intertwined like twisted roots of a tree. "My wife." He declared proudly as you drifted away to a soft, gentle sleep.

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