“Mmm…” His voice is drawn out, husky like it always is when he’s indulging in something he shouldn’t. Acting like he has all the time in the world, like the planets simply just revolve around him. “Feels good, huh?”

Your eyes trace his face– his blown out pupils, the red swell of his lips. The pink of his tongue as it comes out to lick some of your slick from them, air huffing just slightly from his mouth as he savours the taste.

… Maybe the world does just revolve around him. Maybe that’s why you’re lucky enough that no one's caught onto your little escapades yet– because he’s the universe's favourite.

Your hips jerk upwards again at the thought. You ignore it.

“Shut up.” You groan out, lower body wiggling in annoyance. “Can’t you just fucking– Ah!”

Did he seriously just slap your thigh?!

Your eyes pinch, cheeks feeling like they’re heating up for a different reason entirely, “What the fuck was that for you dickhead?!”

“Shhh… shhh shhh…” And now he’s cooing at you?! Oh! Oh! You know what?! You know what?! You’re never going to let him fuck you again! Ever!!

His biceps flex, fingertips digging into the plush of your thighs. Arms winding just a little bit closer to himself as he pulls you in, as he shuffles himself a little on his tummy, eyes never leaving the saliva and arousal covering your slightly parted folds.

While your thighs stay propped up on his forearms, cunt nice and pretty for him to view, his cock pinned to the bed– you know it’s leaking, it has to be. There has to be a stain on the front of his sweatpants. You can’t be the only one going insane. You refuse to accept it.

With your legs higher up, he finally has use of his hands once again. His pointer and middle slowly moving over your pelvis, only ending their feather light search once they’ve reached the top of your lips. Slowly– too slowly– moving downwards, middle finger giving your clit gentle taps, lilting rolls before his pointer joins in once again. The two fingers parting, spreading you open. Letting him get a look at how desperate of a little thing you are properly.

“Hmmm…pussy looks like she likes me…” You hear the slight chuckle in his tone– it makes you want to slap him. You should– it would fucking serve him right for–

The crest of his jaw rolls, the muscle flexing as he gathers something on his tongue. A little gust of air causing something warm and wet to land right against your clit, your back curling as the only response your brain can provide. Your back arching the other way as he gives a sharp slap against your sore, used clit.

“Ah!” Your eyes are wide as you look down at him, brain scattered as the pain conflicts with the pleasure. As it conflicts with all this slow, drawn out teasing. Your breath panting as his fingers take their turn slowly running between you once again, spreading his spit. His mess all around you. His fingertips just barely fucking dipping into your hole when he gets close enough before moving away once more.

“You think she likes me? Need to impress her, don’t I?”Those dark, half-lidded eyes stare at you. Testing. Waiting. His tongue once again rolling against his bottom lip like he’s taunting you.

He fucking is.

Your body’s reaction is instant. Your hands automatically tugging his hair, forcing his face back into your poor, begging cunt. Your back already arching the second he groans against you, entirely too enamoured with the taste.

“Shut the fuck up.” You try to say it with some sort of conviction, but it breaks off into a moan even then.