Click here to read part 1
pairing: bad!era michael jackson x fem!reader
synopsis: You've spent the entire evening going back and forth with Michael. Tired of arguing but unwilling to let him off easy, you decide to teach him a lesson hell regret underestimating.
warnings: diana ross, arguing, lotsssss of teasing, tension, smut, masturbation, fingering, oral sex fem!receiving, edging, dom! micheal but a hint of sub be the sub!reader is a teasseeee.
authors note: if yall canât tell by now theyâre hella toxic. Also I wrote this while Iâm sick and currently on 2 different medications so I hope itâs still good and not too rushed I tried to put it out asap :) fingers crossed it is bc yall really liked part 1.
Whatever front Michael had put up, trying to act as if he wasnât slowly losing his sanity over not being able to touch you, had quickly withered away over the past week.
It was in the way his jaw tightened whenever you brushed past him. The way his eyes lingered a second too long when you walked into a room. The way heâd suddenly find something very important to do whenever you decided to parade around the house with the shortest, most revealing pieces of clothes, looking entirely too pleased with yourself.
You were completely off limits.
Every teasing smile, every lingering glance, every casual touch that never lasted long enough was carefully calculated. You werenât letting him forget what heâd done. Not for a second.
The problem was that Michael had never been known for his patience. By the second day he was completely irritated and frustrated. By the third day, he was completely restless.
He had gotten far too used to you, your presence, your attention. Having you whenever he wanted and now that youâd taken that away from him, he was slowly beginning to understand exactly what punishment felt like.
What really sent him spiraling was your decision to leave with Janet for a few days before returning to Hayvenhurst with her. Janet had invited you to spend some time with her in Los Angeles while she took care of a few errands, attended meetings, and enjoyed a rare stretch of free time away from the chaos.
The two of you spent your days shopping along Rodeo Drive, grabbing lunch at little cafes, getting your nails done, and wandering through boutiques for hours with no real destination in mind. It was relaxing. For you, it had been a nice change of pace.
For Michael, it was torture.
Between the endless interviews and appearances crowding his schedule, he barely had time to breathe, let alone see you. The few opportunities he did have to steal a moment with you were gone entirely, leaving him with nothing but brief phone calls and the growing frustration of not having you around.
While you were spending your days laughing with Janet and carrying shopping bags from store to store, Michael was stuck counting down the days until you returned to Hayvenhurst.
The irony wasnât lost on you. The week he desperately wanted you around was the one week you were nowhere to be found.
By the time you finally walked back through the doors of Hayvenhurst with Janet, Michael was hanging onto the last thread of his patience.
But if you wanted Michael to finally get his act together, he needed to truly feel the absence of your presence.
Call it obedience training, if you will.
And just like that, the quiet of the room is broken by a knock at the bedroom door.
You barely look up from where you were standing beside the bed, sorting through the shopping bags that had accumulated over the past few days. New clothes were draped across the mattress, jewelry boxes sat open on the dresser, and tissue paper littered the floor around your feet, the bedroom door still locked behind you as you put a few things away.
You turn around, smoothing a hand over your dress before crossing the room. Stepping around the shopping bags scattered across the floor, you make your way toward the bedroom door, undoing the lock as another knock sounds from the other side.
You pull the door open, and the sight waiting on the other side has you biting back a smile.
Instead, you keep your expression carefully neutral, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe as if you hadnât spent the last few days hearing about how miserable heâd been without you. Your gaze flickers over him for only a second before drifting away, showing a level of disinterest you certainly didnât feel.
Michael stood there, leaning against the doorframe. His curls framed his face perfectly, sunglasses perched on his nose, one foot crossed over the other.
In one hand, he held an origami rose, lifting it up beside his face as if it were some grand peace offering. His lips were pulled into a slight pout, one that would have looked pathetic on anyone else but somehow only made him more charming.
Then, without a word, you close the door, the latch clicks shut.
You turn on your heels and start back toward the bed, but before you can make it more than a few steps, there was another knock on the door.
You let out a sigh as you make your way back to the door once again. Pulling it open, youâre met with the exact same sight.
âYou got that out of your system?â he asked, a brow lifting behind the dark lenses.
You look up at him with practiced disinterest, your shoulder against the doorframe as if this conversation were already boring you.
Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped past you and into the guest bedroom. His gaze immediately landed on the shopping bags scattered around the room. Some were still sitting at the foot of the bed, others half-unpacked with tissue paper spilling out onto the floor.
âI see you two were productive,â he said flatly, his eyes lingering on the scene a second longer.
âI have to get changed,â you said simply. Like he was keeping you from something more important, you stepped around him and crossed back toward the bed.
âThen Iâm right on time,â he remarked. His gaze swept over you briefly, lingering just long enough to make his meaning clear before returning to your face. âI can wait.â
You rolled your eyes, though there wasnât much force behind it.
âYou can wait outside.â You replied absently, already turning away from him. Your attention drifted back to the clothes scattered across the bed as you picked up a dress and smoothed the fabric between your fingers.
His lips pressed into a thin line. Without another word, he closed the distance between you.
He took a few measured steps forward until he was standing directly behind you. The room suddenly felt much smaller. Your breath caught slightly as his presence settled at your back, impossible to ignore.
He reached up, gathering the curtain of hair that had fallen over your shoulder and slowly, he swept it behind your back.
The simple gesture left the side of your neck exposed. His hand lingered for only a moment before dropping back to his side.
âYouâve made your point.â His voice was calm, but there was a firmness underneath it now. âIâve been patient. Iâve let you have your fun.â He paused. âBut I think this little punishment of yours has gone on long enough.â
The corner of your mouth twitched. âPunishment?â A quiet laugh slipped from your lips.
He hummed softly, his hand lifting as his fingertips brushed lightly along your arm. You glanced down at the touch, watching his hand linger for a moment before your gaze drifted back to him over your shoulder.
You turned to face him fully, lifting your chin just enough to meet his gaze. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. âOh, Michael,â you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes as though you couldnât quite take him seriously.
His eyes drifted downward for a moment, lingering to the opening of your dress, your chest just barely pressed against his and your breasts slightly pushed up.
A hint of amusement flickered across your face. âYou thought this was the punishment?â You asked softly. âNo, Michael.â Your shook your head. âThis was me being nice.â
Slowly, you began to step backward, your eyes locked onto his gaze. A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched his eyes track your every movement like a hawk. âBut Iâm not feeling too generous anymore,â you teased softly.
His jaw flexed, the hand resting against you withdrew, curling briefly at his side. He bit at the corner of his mouth, his patience visibly thinning.
âIâm starting to get really really frustrated, did you know that?â You took one final step back until the back of your knees hit the soft edge of the mattress, causing you to deliberately take a seat right there on the bed. You leaned back slightly on your palms, tilting your chin up.
âEvery single part of me is aching for you right now... canât you tell, Mikey?â Then he stepped forward. He closed the distance between you in a single wide stride, his body towering over you.
Before you could even blink, both of his hands came down on either side of you against the edge of the bed behind you, trapping you completely in the pocket of his arms.
A tense silence settled between you, the kind that warned you you were pushing your luck. But you didnât care.
Michael looked down at you in silence. The frustration from moments ago was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.
âNeed you so bad, Michael,â You spoke softly, as though you hadnât spent the last week driving him completely insane. Your brows knitted together in mock frustration.
There was a heaviness behind his eyes that hadn't been there a week ago, the result of days spent losing a battle he was far too stubborn to admit he was losing.
And yet, all the irritation written across his face, he couldn't stop looking at you.
His gaze stayed locked on yours, drifting every so often before finding its way back again. As if he was annoyed with you, annoyed by the situation, but completely incapable of tearing his attention away.
Every rational thought in his head was telling him to be angry at your selfish teasing, but desire had a tight grip on him. He refused to pull away.
Despite his best efforts to stay in control, his hand reaches out to your waist, pulling you forward as he leans towards you. His lips are parted, his breathing fast and heavy as he tries to place a kiss to your lips.
Your hand shoots up to his chest, stopping him midway. âBut-mikeyâs been a very, very bad boyâŚâ you taunted.
His face slowly drops and you bring your hand down, your fingers reaching for his tie, wrapping around the silk and giving it a gentle tug.
The movement drew him closer, shrinking the already limited space between the two of you.
His cologne invaded every one of your senses, rich and familiar. The scent wrapped around you the moment he stepped closer.
A dangerous look flashed across his face, one that made your stomach tighten.Gone was the smug confidence heâd walked into the room with and the teasing pout.
Just like that, he was right back where heâd been a week ago.
"Once he finally gets his act together, he can do whatever he wants with me,â you murmured softly, pausing for a second as you read the expression on his face. âBut until then, poor Mikey is going to have a hard time." You glanced up at him through your lashes. "a very hard time."
The smile on your face only widened as you deliberately emphasized the word.
A faint shake of his head followed, almost disbelieving, as his eyes remained locked on yours. The look on his face was somewhere between frustration and complete surrender.
His eyes flickered down to your hand gripping his tie before returning to yours.
His hands were braced against the mattress on either side of you, careful not to touch you. He already knew youâd pull away the moment he did.
You let out a fake groan of frustration, tightening your grip around his tie and pulling him closer, his forehead now resting against yours.
You slowly drew your knees up, the slender stiletto heels sinking into the mattress beneath you. âHeâs more than welcome to look.â You paused. âBut no touching.â
You slowly part your knees, his eyes moving with your motions. Slowly from your face and down to your core.
You see as his chest dips and his eyes nearly widening in absolute shock. Youâre not wearing any panties. The sudden sight catches him completely off guard, and his knees nearly gave out underneath him right there.
You smirk at his reaction, his eyes glued to your core, before they divert back to you. The look on his face was easy enough to read, hopeful, almost pleading, as though he was silently asking for permission he already knew he wasnât going to get
You let go of his tie, using one hand to balance yourself while the other, moves down toward your heat. He didnât move an inch, every muscle in his body seemed locked in place.
Two fingers circle your clit, a tantalizingly slow movement that causes a quiet hiss to leave your lips.
Your forehead remains pressed against his, the weight of the moment heavy between you. His curls frame his face, soft against your skin, while his mouth parts open, his chest heaving up and down with a hurried breath.
âCareful, Michael.â You raised a brow at him, fighting back a smile. âYouâre starting to look desperate.â
He swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes glued to your core. Watching as your manicured nails circled your pearl with a slow pace.
Slowly, your hand moves down further. Two fingers circle your entrance, gathering the slick arousal. Already soaking wet, at the look of desperation in his eyes for you. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, you curl your fingers into your entrance soothing the ache, a quiet wet squelch shatters the breathless silence between you.
You slightly gasp against his lips, and his mouth falls open further. He hovers there, entirely hesitant to kiss you, before his eyes flutter shut for a moment to catch himself.
âFuck, youâre killing me, baby,â he groans, letting out a ragged breath. Placing his hand on your knee, his fingers squeeze tightly against your skin, grounding himself against the agonizing distance between the two of you.
His eyes peel back open, not being able to go another second without his eyes on you. He tracks every single expression on your face, drowning in his desire. Slowly, but deliberately, his hand begins to trail up your inner thigh, the heat of his palm sent shivers down your spine.
âGod- baby please, Justââ His words were cut short as you lifted your heel, placing it right onto his hard-on, pushing him back until his knees hit the ground.
The sudden shift forces him downward, leaving him kneeling right between your legs, looking up at you with those wide, dark eyes.
Michael had never been the type to give up control easily. He was stubborn to a fault and relentlessly determined, and far too used to being the one who had his way of things.
Which was exactly why he always found himself in situations like this.
The harder he dug his heels in, the more determined you became to do the same.
You continued working your fingers inside of you, your own breath growing shallower and more frantic by the second under the heavy weight of his gaze.
He remains frozen on the floor, his hands gripping his own thighs just to keep from grabbing you. He looks completely wrecked, his head tilted forward as he tracks the frantic rhythm of your fingers.
The sound of your shallow breaths combined with the wet squelch of your slick arousal as your fingers plunged into you short circuits his brain.
He lets out a low, defeated groan from the floor. Slowly, his hands reach up to rest flat against your shins, his fingers trembling against your skin. He doesn't pull you down or try to take control, he just anchors himself to your legs.
For a fraction of a second, his jaw tightens and his usual dominance was fighting against the humiliation of being brought so low.
But as he looks at your parted lips and listens to your shallow breathing, his pride completely dissolves, and he slumps forward, utterly defeated.
The friction of your palm against your clit does nothing to soothe the sudden warmth spreading through you, your own body was betraying how much his desperation is affecting you.
Your fingers curve deep into you, your slick arousal sliding over your knuckles as you force another slow, wet turn.
Your head begins to roll back, but refusing to break the connection, you bring it back down to meet michaels gaze, letting him see exactly what his dazed, needy begging is doing to you, even as the warmth spreading through your core threatens to completely dissolve.
With a broken, defeated groan, Michael lets his head drop forward, pressing his forehead firmly against your knee. His soft curls brush against your skin as he hides his face, his shoulders rising and falling with his ragged breaths.
He canât look at you anymore without completely snapping, yet he refuses to pull away, anchoring his entire world to the spot where your leg meets his chest
Your fingers sink all the way in, burying themselves entirely inside of you. You let out a quiet, broken moan against the empty air. Your empty hand fisting the sheets beneath you.
Beneath your knee, you can feel the frantic, burning heat of Michael's chest heaving faster, the sound of your breathless state driving him even crazier.
Michael shifts against your knee. A low, tortured groan vibrates through his chest, his forehead pressing even harder against your skin as if hearing you come apart right above his head is physically hurting him.
Slowly, you force your eyes back open, catching your breath as you look back down at him.
You let out a faint, shaky breath and tiny, knowing smile touching your lips as you look down at his beautiful, ruined composure.
You whispered, your voice thick and entirely breathless from the heat still pulsing through you, as you bring your fingers out slowly. âThis is what punishment feels like, Mikey. Only the start of it. You still have a long way to go.â
You bring your fingers out slowly in front of you, your slick arousal coating them. You bring them up to your lips, tasting yourself around your fingers. Only then to drag them out, a string of saliva connecting you to them.
He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to your parted wet lips before locking back onto yours, a dangerous, lazy warmth returning to his dazed expression.
âA long way to go, huh?â He lets out a ragged, uneven breath. His gaze never left yours as he leaned forward slightly, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. âI am going to absolutely ruin you the second I can.â He paused.
âRuin me?â Your brows raised. âThen I better make it count.â
You lean forward, your lips almost brushing his flushed cheek as you let out a soft, mocking hum. âBecause right now, Mikey, youâre still on your knees. So Iâd really like to see you try.â
The moment of silence that followed after that was soon disrupted.
Your head turns towards the door as an urgent knock sounds. Your name was being called on the other end. It was Janet. "You ready? Bryan is going to be mad if we're late again!"
Michaels head rises towards you slowly, his senses returning back to him.
"Iâll be waiting in the car!" She announced, before hearing her footsteps trail away slowly.
"Sorry, Mikey. I have to go." You shrug your shoulders, sending him a gentle smile. "Bryan is waiting for me."
You gathered yourself and your things as quickly as you could, having already kept Janet waiting far longer than you intended. By the time you made your way to the front of the house, the car was already waiting in the driveway. Janet stood beside it, leaning casually against the passenger door with her arms crossed as she watched you approach.
âFinally,â she sighed, pushing herself off the car door as soon as she spotted you. But as you got closer, her expression quickly shifted. The impatience faded from her face, replaced by visible confusion as her eyes drifted behind you.
As you walked, sunglasses perched on the tip of your nose and heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway, Michael followed a step behind you.
His hands were tucked into the pockets of his trousers, and his dark sunglasses concealing his eyes.
âMichael? Whyâs he coming?â Janet questioned, her brows knitting together as she tugged on the car door handle.
You looked over your shoulder. His expression was impossible to read. Reaching for the handle, you pulled the car door open. âNot a big fan of Bryan, I assume.â
Janet let out a low chuckle as she climbed into the car, and you followed right behind her. âMichael, honey,â she teased, âI promise the man is more interested in inseams than your girlfriend.â
Michael followed in right after, his shoulder brushing against yours as he settled into the seat beside you. You turned your head toward him, resting a hand on his thigh. âI donât know,â you said, glancing between him and Janet. âMichael seems to think otherwise.â
Janet let out a light laugh, shaking her head as the driver pulled out of the drive way.
The drive passed quicker than expected, filled mostly with Janetâs occasional teasing and your attempts to keep a straight face. Micheal was not the least bit impressed by the two of you. Before long, the car was pulling up outside Bryanâs studio.
A few minutes later, you found yourself standing on the circular wooden pedestal in the center of the room while Bryan circled around you, tape measure in hand.
Across from you, Michael sat on a velvet sofa just a few feet away, one arm draped along the back cushion as he watched.
The three-way mirrors made the situation infinitely worse. No matter where Michael looked, there you were reflected back at him from every angle imaginable.
At some point, his attempts at trying not to look at you had completely abandoned him. Now he wasnât even pretending not to watch.
Aside from the occasional glances exchanged between the two of you, very little was said. Michael spent most of the day just staring at you, his jaw tight and his shoulders tense.
It wasn't an angry silence, it was a stubborn one. One that you knew too well.
Michael had made it very clear he was ignoring you. The only problem was that he continued trailing after you everywhere you went like a lost puppy.
He was stubborn, painfully stubborn. He's the type of man who would rather suffer in silence than admit defeat.
You stood on the pedestal, wearing only a lace bra and matching panties.
Michaels fingers tapped anxiously onto his knee in a rhythmic roll. His eyes are narrowed, dazed, and locked onto you. He can't escape the view, no matter how hard he tried.
The private salon is quiet, smelling of expensive fabrics and polished wood.
"Alright, where were we?" Bryan smiled as he walked back into the room. Holding a yellow measuring tape in his hand.
The fact that it was a man taking your measurements, touching you, being so close to you, and Michael couldnât do the same was driving him to the edge of insanity.
His fingers tightened around his knee and his leg bounced up and down.
The tailor steps up onto the pedestal with you. He mumbled a quiet apology before wrapping the fabric tape measure around the fullest part of your hips, his fingers brushing light and close against your skin as he pulls the tape.
Bryan writes down the measurements, âI wanted to get your opinion on the silhouette. For the waistline profile, do you prefer a deeper, more snug contour to accentuate the hips, or should we keep it a bit more conservative?â
You tilt your head slightly, looking in the mirror as your hands smooth down the side of your body. âHmm,â You hummed. âWhat do you think Michael?â You said quickly before turning around to face him.
The question hangs heavily in the quiet room. He stares straight at Bryan then back to you. âWhatever you want, baby.â
âKeep it snug,â you answered, looking towards Bryan now. A unbothered smile plays on your lips as you ignore the energy radiating from the couch. âI think Michael prefers things when they fit tightly. Don't you, Michael?â
Michael doesn't move, but he is visibly suffering under the weight of your words.
He is suffocating right in front of you, forced to endure the torture of watching another manâs fingers adjust the yellow tape across your hips, completely trapped by the fact that your teasing has turned his own stubborn pride into a cage.
A cage he had the very keys to.
Bryan, entirely oblivious to the silent war happening behind him, simply nods and pulls the tape measure up towards your chest.
The heavy silence is suddenly broken as the door clicks open. A polite lady walks into the room, holding a small silver tray.
âMr. Jackson?â she smiles warmly, stepping toward the velvet couch. âWould you care for something to drink while you wait? A glass of wine, or perhaps some water?â
âWater,â Michael rasps, completely stripped of his usual smooth composure. âJust ice water, please.â
She quickly offers a professional nod. âOf course, right away,â she murmurs, turning on her heel to leave the room.
You notice something spark behind his eyes as you watched the interaction so closely.
Michaelâs stubborn, defensive pride kicks in. Slumping back into the velvet cushions, his eyes slowly cut away from your reflection in the mirror, fixing onto the women with a sudden shift in posture.
âActually, sweetheart?â Michael calls out softly, his voice dropping into that quiet croak that makes everyone in a room instantly freeze. He tilts his head, flashing her a lazy but charming smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes before his gaze shifts intentionally back to you in the mirror.
âWhere did you get your hair done? It looks absolutely beautiful today. My girl was just saying she wanted to try a new style, and I think something like that would look incredible on her.â
The womenâs jaw practically drops, her cheeks turning a deep, vivid crimson as a flattered, completely flustered giggle escapes her lips. âOh- oh wow, thank you, Mr. Jackson.â
She gulps. âItâs a salon just a few blocks away. I can write down the name for you,â she stammers, practically floating out the door as she quickly closes it behind her to hide her blushing face.
Hearing him use you as an excuse to openly look at another woman's appearance, complimenting her right after you were fighting off your own burning jealousy over Diana, makes your blood instantly boil with rage.
He looks back down towards you, completely satisfied with himself.
You try your hardest to ignore him. But the second the women walked back into the room that had went straight out the door. Your gaze lingered onto them as she handed him the small piece of paper. He nods, thanking her as he stuffed it into his coat pocket.
She stood over him, her entire weight on one leg as she pushed her hair back. Smiling, as the two of them talked quietly, not enough for your to hear across the room and over the quiet hum of music over the speakers.
You swallow the frustration down your throat, your hands resting against bryans shoulders as he leaned down on one knee, continuing to take your measurements, getting your advice on different types of fabrics and asking questions you absentmindedly said yes to.
The last thing you were focused on were his questions. But Michaels eyes were floating back and forth between you and the women, he noticed your hands resting onto Bryans shoulders. His jaw slightly tightened.
If Michael wanted to keep playing this game, so be it.
You could play it far better than he ever could.
You send Michael a smile, shifting your attention back to Bryan. "Make sure itâs tight enough to hold me in⌠but make it easy to slip off," you murmured, sending him a playful wink while looking down at him.
Bryan froze for a fraction of a second, his fingers tightening. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his focus on the measuring tape looped around your hip. "The... the goal is always a versatile fit," he stammered slightly with a breathy nervous chuckle, his voice dropping an octave.
You let out a soft, low laugh, your fingers tracing a slow line across the fabric of his shirt. "You're usually so steady, Bryan. Whats got you all worked up?" You heckled.
Bryan froze, his knuckles brushing against your thigh as he held the tape. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "The... the-," he stammered, his face flushing.
You leaned down just a fraction closer, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur. "Iâm messing with you, silly. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'm making you nervous."
He looked up, his face flushing slightly as he met your gaze from his position on one knee. He let out a breath that was a half laugh, half sigh. "It is hard to keep a steady hand," he admitted, his professional composure slipping, "I think Iâm just a little distracted."
You are so focused on Bryanâs flustered reaction that you don't hear the heavy steps crossing the hardwood floor near you.
Suddenly, a large hand wraps firmly around your forearm. The grip is steady and before you can even speak another word, Michael effortlessly lifts your hand off Bryanâs shoulder, cutting off the touch completely.
Michael doesn't look at the tailor. His gaze is fixed entirely on you, his face contoured in anger.
He forces you to turn towards him, holding your forearm out in front of you. You keep your expression calm, and unaffected.
âBryan, would you mind giving us a minute?â you asked calmly. âWe can finish the fitting later.â
Bryan nodded immediately. âOf course. Sorry,â he mumbled, already backing toward the door. A second later, he disappeared into the hallway, the heavy click of the door echoing behind him.
Slowly, he lets go of the grip on your forearm, Michael still towering over you.
You step in closer, your lips brushing against his flushed cheek as you place your hands flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath your palms.
He stands frozen for a split second, his heavy hands are trembling as they finally rise, gripping your waist with a sudden, desperate strength, completely desperate to pull you flush against him and break the torture.
âYou think making me jealous, will make me give into you?â You taunted, shaking your head, âIn case you forgot, that's what got you into this mess in the first place.â
Your palms drag down his abdomen, your fingers moving further down, dangerously close to his crotch. âYou know exactly what to do to end this, Mikey.â Moving back from his ear, and locking your eyes with his again.
Your hand slowly rides up to fully palm him through his jeans, your hand following the thick print. You brush your fingertips right over his length and to his tip.
A heavy breath leaves him. Dropping his head down, he closely watches your movements, his eyes tracking every single inch of your fingers working him.
âYou know,â you mused, âthis is getting a little hard to watch.â Your fingers stroked lightly against him. âAll this suffering just because you refuse to give in.â You feel him pulse against your palm. His heavy breathing hitting your cheek. âWhy keep torturing yourself like this? Are you really that stubborn? Hm?â
His eyes wire shut at your words, his breathing become ragged. He grabs a hold of your forearm once again, grabbing it and pushing you forward. You stumble off of the pedestal, placing your hands onto his chest to balance yourself.
âGet dressed. Weâre leaving.â He breathes, pausing and waiting for you to start moving. âNow.â
You blinked up at him for a moment, still trapped between his hold.
His eyes held yours, they were dark, his chest rising with a slow breath.
Then, before you could open your mouth and throw another protest his way, he pushed himself away from you and left the room.
Leaving no space for an argument.
You stared at the closed door for a moment after he left, listening to the sound of his footsteps disappear down the hallway.
You quickly got dressed, slipping into your outfit and giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before heading for the door.
When you finally emerged from the fitting room, he was already waiting.
Your eyes immediately found him. He stood near the front of the showroom,one hand resting in his pocket while the other absentmindedly adjusted the watch on his wrist.
Outside, the evening air was cool as the two of you climbed into the car.
And then came the silence, his eyes remained fixed on the window. One hand resting in his lap while the other right underneath his chin.
Every now and then the glow of the passing streetlights would light up the sharp line of his jaw before darkness swallowed it again.
His silence now, was the impatient kind, the angry kind. Heâd finally realized that every reaction, every frustrated glance, every sharp exhale only encouraged you further.
You two seem awfully quiet," Janet commented, halfway during the car ride back to Hayvenhurst.
Both of you had been boiling in your own jealousy for the other.
It was toxic. You knew it, and so did he. Yet neither of you could seem to help yourselves. Both too stubborn to back down, both too proud to fold. The worst part was that the constant push and pull had become almost addicting.
Soon, you arrived back at Havenhurst. The house sat unusually quiet as you stepped through the front door. It was still early, so most of the family was likely out enjoying the evening. Unlike the two of you, who had spent the past week at each otherâs throats.
You walked through the hall, dropping your purse somewhere along the way.
Michael hadnât said a word, but he stayed behind you, following your every step. When you stopped, he stopped. When you moved, he moved.
You made your way up the stairs, walking through the hall, past his bedroom and towards the guest room.
âWhere do you think youâre going?â Michaelâs voice cut through the dark hallway, his voice low as he shadowed your footsteps.
âIâm going to bed.â You said blankly, your hand grabbing the golden doorknob and turning it.
You stepped into the cold, unlit guest room and immediately reached for the door, attempting to slam it shut right in his face. Michael was too fast. He didnât say a word. Instead, he pushed it back open with one hand, stopping the door before it could close completely.
The room is entirely quiet, the shadow of his large frame looming over you in the darkness.
âMichael Iâm serious. Iâm tired I wanna go to b-,â
Before you could finish the sentence, the room tilted and a startled yelp left your lips as Michael suddenly bent down, hooked an arm around the backs of your legs, and effortlessly lifted you off the floor.
A second later, you found yourself upside, thrown over his shoulder.
One hand rested securely against the back of your legs as he started walking down the hallway.
âMichael! Whatâre you- Put me down!â You protest as you twisted around as much as you could from your upside down position.
âMichael, I swear to God, if you donât put me down!â
You smacked the back of his shoulder.
But he said nothing, he continued walking further down the hall, until he reached his bedroom.
âMichael, Iâm serious! Michael- put me down!â You huffed âAre you listening to me?!â
The door swung open and Michael carried you inside without breaking stride. Then, with the same ease heâd used to pick you up, he finally lowered you onto the edge of the mattress.
For a moment, neither of you spoke a word. He stood in front of you, looking down as his tie was loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone.
Dark curls falling slightly into his face after the long evening and despite the silence, despite the fact he hadnât said a single word since picking you up the look in his eyes made it very clear that whatever patience heâd been clinging to all day was running dangerously thin.
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands resting near your sides as you looked up at him. Much like the same position you were in this morning.
He looked down at you, one last time, âDonât move.â
You ignored him, lifting yourself up and attempting to brush past him. Once again, he was too quick, grabbing a hold of you gently and moving you back in front of him.
You huff in frustration, folding your arms at your chest and dropping back down to the edge of the bed.
He turned slightly, reaching for the receiver on the nightstand before bringing it to his ear. His fingers moved across the keypad, dialing a number from memory.
Your brows furrowed as you sat there in silence, watching him. Anticipation running through you.
You could hear the quiet ring of the call through the receiver, the sound breaking the silence in the room.
âHello?â A womanâs voice answered on the other end.
âHey, It's Michael.â he said evenly, then the woman on the other end seemed to recognize his voice.
âHi, honey. Howâve you been?â The familiarity in her tone made your stomach twist.
Michael lowered his gaze to the floor for a moment, one hand resting against the nightstand. âI apologize if Iâm calling too late.â
You immediately pushed yourself up from the edge of the bed. A rush of anger shot through you so suddenly it almost caught you off guard.
Before you could think, you closed the space between you in a few quick strides and reached for the receiver in his hand. âWhat do you think youâre do-,â
With a smooth movement, he pulled the phone out of your reach and his gaze finally met yours.
âSit.â He stated once again, the look in his eyes was deeper than it was before, you stared at him, disbelief flashing across your face.
Instead you turn your face away from his, your arms remained crossed at your chest as you feel your patience running awfully thin.
âI wanted to talk to you because I think itâs best if we create some distance moving forward.â He continued, before you could overthink the situation further.
Your head snapped toward him, surprise flashing across your face at the words that had just left his mouth.
The shock wasnât that he was finally saying it. It was that heâd actually gone through with it.
Michael hated confrontation. That was exactly why heâd put it off for so long, hoping the situation would somehow resolve itself or that youâd eventually give in before he was forced to have the conversation.
But now, standing in front of you, it seemed heâd finally done what heâd been avoiding all along.
âWhat do you mean?â she asked, letting out an amused chuckle. There wasnât a trace of concern in her voice. If anything, she sounded entertained, as though she couldnât imagine him being serious.
âThere have been boundaries that have been crossed and I don't feel comfortable continuing our friendship.â He paused, looking over his shoulder to look at you briefly. âThatâs completely on me and I should've made it clear before.â
Not giving her a chance to speak , he hangs up the line.
He turns, fully facing you now.
All the teasing, tension, anger, and frustration that had built up over the past few days had come crumbing down in front of you.
You got exactly what you wanted, and the toxic jealousy that had been driving you to act so recklessly finally had a reason to die down.
Yet, as the silence stretched between you, a sudden, unfamiliar wave of anxiousness began to coil in your stomach.
Michael was towering over you, his presence feeling much heavier than it had before. He didn't say a word, his dark and dazed eyes were burning with a lust that made it clear he was nowhere near done with you.
âWhat?â He rasps, his voice low, which that sends a violent shiver straight down your spine. âYouâre the one who wanted to play games, mama. Donât start backing out now.â
âIâm not backing out,â you whispered sharply, your eyes narrowing as you try to seize the upper hand one last time.
âGuess youâll just have to earn your way out of it, then.â
Before you get a chance to reply, his large palm clamps firmly around your hip, physically driving you backward until the solid wood of the bedpost digs into your spine.
He hooks one of his legs between yours to completely anchor you in place, his free hand rising to tilt your chin up forcefully, forcing you to look up at him.
âCome on.â His head tilted slightly. âDonât start getting shy on me now.â
A smirk tugs at his face. The words were soft, almost affectionate. âYou really didnât think this through, did you?â
His hand smooths slowly upward from your hip, his broad palm dragging up against your ribs until it rests firmly over your lower chest.
He presses down, using his weight to completely lock you against the wood and you knew he could feel the frantic, hammering rhythm of your heart beneath his fingertips.
He leans down further, his control completely over taking under the proximity, he was unable to contain the days of pent up desire for another millisecond.
With a low, ragged groan, he breaks the final shred of distance and crashes his lips violently against yours, claiming your mouth in a deep, desperate kiss that puts a firm end to your games.
You completely melt underneath him, the remaining tension in your body dissolving as you abandon the fight and kiss him back just as violently.
Your hands shoot up to slide around the back of his neck, your palm pulling against his skin as you pull him against you harder, desperate to erase every last inch of space left between you.
Your fingers dip deep into the thick, soft curls at his nape. Tighter and tighter, you pull on his hair to anchor him to your mouth, the sudden, sharp friction earning another low, vibration of a groan from the back of his throat.
The sound vibrates right through you as his grip on your chest turns you breathless, completely unraveled by the way you're finally taking exactly what you want from him.
Without waiting for an invitation, his tongue forces its way into your mouth, completely taking over the kiss and tasting every single bit of you. The heavy heat of it steals whatever breath you had left.
His remaining hand slides roughly down your spine to the small of your back, his long slender fingers bunching into the fabric of your skirt as he grabs a firm handful of you.
The aggressive pull yanked your lower body forward, crashing your hips flush against his until you could feel the heavy, hard weight of his hard-on pressing right onto your stomach.
Driven over the edge, he grinds his hips heavily against you, the absolute desperation of needing you for so long making him completely crumble at the slightest touch of your body as he loses all his forced restraint.
When he finally breaks the kiss, both of you are left utterly breathless, your chests heaving in urgency as your lips remain parted, helplessly breathing in each other's hot air. Your lips are bruised and swollen a deep red, staring up at him through a dazed fog while he hovers over you, completely torn apart.
Michael rests his forehead heavily against yours, his hot, ragged breaths fanning across your skin. He glares down at your swollen lips, his jaw twitching as his fingers dig even deeper into your waist. âYouâre going to be the death of me,â he rasps, his voice was gritty with a broken tone that shivers directly into your mouth.
âLook what you do to me, baby. I swear to God... if you ever make me wait like that again, Iâm never letting you out of this room.â
Your dazed state left you completely at a loss for words, your mind spinning from the complete truthfulness of his words. Your hand slowly rises, cupping his sharp jawline as the urgent, pulsing need to pull him right back down onto your lips takes over your entire body.
But before you could even move an inch, he reacts. Michael quickly turns you around, breaking your grip as his wide, open palm is placed firmly onto your lower back.
With a sudden and heavy surge of power, he pushes you down into the mattress face down. Your feet remained tied to the ground, leaving you bent down right in front of him, completely at his mercy as the solid weight of his hand keeps you securely trapped against the sheets.
You can feel the radiating warmth of his chest pressing flat against your back as he leans down completely over you. The heavy weight of his large frame seals every single inch of space between your bodies, trapping you entirely beneath him.
He buries his face right into the crook of your neck, his soft curls brushing against your skin as his lips press against your ear. âI gave you plenty of chances to stop.â he growls, his voice completely rough. âYouâre about to find out exactly what punishment looks like.â
Then, he pulls back, standing upright again. You feel the anticipation inside you grow larger by the second as he disappears out of your view, behind you.
The heavy silence of the bedroom is broken by the sharp, metallic sound of his belt unbuckling. You hear the stiff leather looping smoothly through the hooks of his trousers, the slide of the buckle echoing right before he steps back towards you.
Without a word, he ruthlessly grabs both of your hands and pins them down securely behind your back. Taking the leather belt, he wraps it around your wrists, looping it tightly and binding your wrists together.
The cold metal of the buckle rests heavy against your skin, the reality of your position completely stealing the remaining air from your lungs.
You twist your bound wrists against the tight leather, a flustered, furious heat rushing all the way to your cheeks as you look back over your shoulder. You breathed out, your voice shaking but your eyes sharp with defiance.
Michael doesn't answer with words. In one fluid, motion, he pulls you up by your tied wrists, yanking your torso backward so your back slams hard into his broad chest.
The impact is rough enough to send you the message, a firm reminder of exactly who is in control now. But, his touch turns incredibly delicate, his large palms surprisingly soft against your skin as his hands soothe slowly up and down your arms.
The gentle touch was intentional, almost acting as a contrast to his grip, a silent effort to try and calm your trembling nerves.
You let out a shaky breath, trapped in the cage of his arms. Slowly, his hands move away from your arms, sliding down toward your abdomen. His long fingers stretch against your skin, tracing a slow path over your stomach that makes the heat low in your core flare.
âLook at you,â he whispers, âCompletely breathless, mama. Shaking so hard against me...â
His words were almost taunting, what the both of you felt, he had to say out loud. To show to you, he knew how defeated you were against him.
You look down through a dazed fog and catching a clear glimpse of his dark veiny hands and his long slender fingers as they dip right into the waistband of your skirt and panties.
His fingers circled your clit with an immediate relentless pace. The sudden contact makes your breath catch instantly, your mouth dropping open in a quiet, broken gasp as the intense physical sensation ripples straight through your core.
You are completely trapped against his chest, enduring the shivering contact of his long fingers moving beneath your clothes.
Your chest heaves helplessly against his front, your head rolling back further into his shoulder as the relentless friction leaves you entirely incapable of forming a single thought.
Every rhythmic movement of his long fingers sends a fresh wave of shivering heat straight to your core, completely drowning out whatever control you had as he is ruthlessly stealing it back from you.
Your breathing quickened and your brows furrowed as the familiar feeling settled low in your abdomen, embarrassingly fast.
After all the teasing today, you knew you weren't going to last long. Your hands desperately try to cling to whatever they could find behind you.
His long fingers drifted lower, he deliberately passes his fingers over your entrance and gathering your slick arousal. He brings his fingers back up to circle your clit and the sensation makers your whole body shudder. "Michael-" you breathe out in response.
Without another word, his fingers moved down towards your entrance again, and he curled his fingers deep inside of you. Your back arched against him instinctively, earning another moan from you.
His jaw rested on your shoulders, leaning over to look at his hands as they drove inside of you. In his mind, the only thing he could see was you, this morning, teasing him as you curled your fingers deep inside of yourself. The moans that left your mouth as he sat in front of you, so desperately needing to feel you.
The memory replayed into his head all day, he knew that sight was something heâll never forget. Something he never wanted to forget.
His forehead dropped onto your shoulder briefly as he shut his eyes, replaying that image into head once more. âFuck-,â He mumbled quietly, his brows furrowed in frustration.
Your lips parted on a shaky breath. the sound of your slick arousal and his hand sliding down into you were nearly echoing off the walls.
You watched as his long slender fingers repeated the same motion, the sight only driving you faster into your climax. Your stomach began to tighten, you clenched around his fingers.
"Mmm," he hummed, shaking his head snapping back into the moment. "Always pushing. Always testing me." His gaze lingered onto the side of your face for a moment. "Thought you would have enough sense to stop before you get yourself into trouble.
Your hands try pushing against him, pushing him away, trying to reclaim what little control you had left, but his hand remained exactly where it was. Not that you wanted him to stop. You just needed to know you still could.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Still trying to put up a fight?" He asked.
You begin to feel your knees weaken beneath you and in response, he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you up steadily against his back.
"Michael.." You whined once again, not being able to find another word as your head was spinning you didn't know whether to stop him or let him keep going.
Your body and mind were fighting against each other. He could very clearly see the mental war happening in you and it did nothing but encourage him.
"What, baby? Talk to me."
You opened your mouth, then immediately shut it again.
You couldn't hold on any longer, you felt your eyes nearly roll back into your head and you became breathless. "I- I can't..."
"You can't what? I'm listening." He said, soft and deep against your ear, as he added another finger inside you, stretching you out more than before.
"Oh my god-" The words spilled out like a broken dam, and you were too far gone to hold them back.
"Look at you, being such a good girl for me." He grinned, catching the look on your face "What's it gonna take for you to stop running from it, huh?"
You nodded your head, though you weren't entirely sure what you were nodding at. Any sense of resistance had long since dissolved beneath the warmth spreading through your chest. Your eyes fell shut and you leaned into the side of his face. His minty breath ghosted across the apple of your cheek, warm and close enough to make your stomach flutter.
"Keep those pretty eyes open, f'me." He murmured, tilting his head to catch your gaze the second your lashes fluttered. "Much better."
His eyes slightly narrowed as they held their gaze with yours. Scanning your face, he read every expression, every moment of pleasure written on your face, only encouraged him further.
Your eyes drop down to his parted lips and back to his eyes once again. Not being able to help it, your eyes flutter shut once again.
Then, without warning, he let go. The sudden lack of contact nearly threw you off balance.
Your eyes blink open slowly, as he slipped his fingers out from inside of you and let go of your waist, his fingers lingering against your hip before finally pulling away.
Now, you were left blinking at him in confusion, an ache lingering between your thighs and your chest rising frantically against his broad chest as you ache for his touch.
In the heavy and breathless silence he leans his face down into the crook of your neck. âI told you to keep your eyes open⌠didnât I?â he mumbled against your skin, slightly shaking his head in disapproval.
He is punishing you with the sudden lack of touch, refusing to touch you until you comply and look at exactly what heâs doing to you.
Your breath hitches, a soft, frustrated sound escaping your parted lips as you try to force yourself out of the fog he trapped you in. âMichael donât-â You try to speak, but the words come quieter than intended.
He leans down until his lips are brushing the sensitive skin of your ear, âDon't what, mama?â he whispers,âSpeak up, I canât hear you.â
Before you can even try to find the words to finish your sentence, his large, open palm slides back down to your lower back, clamping down with that similar heavy leverage. He shifts his weight forward and cleanly leans you over the bed once again.
Your bound wrists are pinned behind your back, not allowing you to catch yourself onto the bed.
He hikes your skirt up further, and pulls your panties down until they pooled down near your heels.
A hand smooths over the skin of your behind, before placing a firm smack. You jump at the contact.
He wastes no time before settling down onto his knees behind you, his patience completely lost. Without a single moment to lose, his tongue finds your heat, lapping onto your clit and working it through your folds with a sudden and intense pace.
Your entire lower body shudders beneath him. Michael lets out a rough groan straight into you, the vibration of his voice radiating right through your spine and completely shattering you, instantly pushing a pleasurable moan out of your parted lips as you fight to keep tour legs open.
âShit, you taste so good baby.â He mumbled against you. His hands cupping your ass as he pulled at the skin, allowing himself to dive deeper inside of you.
Your mind feels like itâs running a thousand miles an hour. You can't think straight, and every single part of you is just giving in right now.
Your hands pull frantically at the tight restraints wrapped around your wrists, your fingers twisting and straining against the leather as you fight to hold onto something-anything.
But there is nothing to grab. You are completely trapped, left floating in his hands while Michael takes every last bit of your control away.
His hands smoothe up and down the back of your thighs before resting on your behind. Bringing another smack, as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking onto the delicate nub.
Your head rolls into the mattress, your moans coming out muffled and heavy. Feeling that familiar heat pool low into your abdomen once again, your climax approaching quicker this time due to being denied previously.
His hands smooth rapidly up and down the back of your thighs, the heat of his palms burning right through your stockings before finally resting on your behind.
Without a second of hesitation, he brings another sharp smack down against your skin, the stinging impact shocking you and pinning you completely into the mattress.
Before the sting can even fade, his lips wrap tightly around your clit. He sucks desperately onto the delicate nub using a fast- hungry rhythm.
You feel your legs as they began to shake, your muscles trembling against the mattress as he held the absolute intensity of his sucking.
The relentless, pace is too much for your system to handle. âDonât stop, Michael,â you breathe out, your voice fractured, a desperate gasp into the sheets as you completely give in to his pace. âFuck- donât stop.â
The second the desperate plea leaves your lips, Michael suddenly pulls back, cutting off the intense rhythm and freezing his movements completely.
The sudden and agonizing lack of touch leaves you suspended with a torturous ache once again, your legs still trembling as you gasp for air against the mattress.
He slowly rises, leaning up just enough to press his chest flat against your back again. âI told you I was going to ruin you.â he rasped. âAll that confidence. I was wondering how long it would last.â
You moan in frustration against the sheet, âI liked you better when you were on your knees,â you croaked, a raspy and breathless challenge slipping from you in reference to this morning.
Michael lets out a low quiet chuckle. He doesn't answer with words. Instead, he grabs the belt tied around your wrists, using it to pull you upward. Forcing your arched back even harder against his chest, silently promising to make you pay for that mouth for the rest of the night.
He turns you around, breaking your stance and forcing your lips to meet once again in a rough kiss. While keeping his mouth locked onto yours, his large fingers work quickly behind your back, unbuckling the tight leather and freeing your wrists.
The second you are untied, he leans down and effortlessly picks you up, lifting your entire weight off the ground in one motion. Your arms immediately shoot up to grip his shoulders, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist, anchoring your hips flush against his chest.
He carries you effortlessly around the bed, before he gently places you straight onto the middle of the bed. He hovers over you, his frame completely pinning you into the mattress as your breathing fills the space between your lips.
He wastes no time peeling off each piece of clothing in between kisses to get rid of the barrier, including his own.
He grabs his length, his long, slender fingers wrapping firmly around the base as he runs his hand up and down.
His movements are slow and deliberate in, his thumb brushing right over his glistening tip to collect the pre cum, before his palm slides all the way back down to the base.
You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight, you never got used to seeing how big he was. The sheer size and volume he has used to leave your heart hammering frantically against your ribs.
He was never the type to gloat about it, but he sure knew the effect it had on you.
He drags his tip through your folds, collecting your slick arousal as he teased you. Dragging himself over your entrance and stopping there for a few seconds.
He slowly drags his cock through your folds, collecting your slick arousal, only then to drag himself up back to your clit deliberately teasing you. He drags his heavy base right over your entrance and stopping there for a few agonizing seconds to make you wait.
âPleaseââ you beg, your voice breaking into a quiet whisper. You feel the hot tears form at the back of your eyes, blurring your vision as you desperately feel the need to just have him.
The sound of your broken voice completely shatters the last thread of his restraint. Michael drives his hips forward, bottoming you out in an instant.
A gasp leaves your lips at the sudden stretch, a slight painful sensation hidden underneath a wave of pleasure from the sudden push.
He leans forward, placing his elbows on either side of you to lock you securely against the mattress. His mouth parts open against yours as his forehead rests against yours. He goes completely still for a moment, allowing you to get used to the sudden pressure.
After a few seconds of catching your breath, you nod your head, a silent gesture he knew perfectly. He waits for that exact signal, his jaw tightening as he began to set the rapid rhythm.
You cling to his back, your nails scratching into his skin which only earns you a low rumbled groan from the very back of his throat.
He pours every ounce of his pent up frustration into his movements without a single second of hesitation.
The sharp sound of skin striking against each other as he slams into you again fills the room, the constant impact not leaving room for any further thought as your mind blanks out entirely.
âYou feel so good, baby.â He panted. âI missed you so so much.â
Once again, your hands find the nape of his neck at his praising words, your fingers curling tight into his thick, soft locks and pulling slightly.
âF-Fuck, pull harder.â
You do as he says, pulling harder at the roots of his hair. In response, he moves down further, framing your breastâs and cupping them into his large hands. Squeezing lightly on one before his fingers gently squeezed, while his mouth found the other, sucking onto them.
As his mouth continued, his other hand dragged down to your heat, circling your clit with his thumb.
As he expected you pull even harder, his groans vibrate through your chest. He pulls away with a hiss, his lips moving up to your collarbone, placing soft kisses in contrast to his relentless pace into you.
He places a few soft kisses into the crook of your neck, before his head falls into it. His whimpers echoing into your ear.
You shut your eyes completely, gripping onto him harder. Trying to stay quiet, but failing to, so he wouldnât sense your climax approaching and pull out.
You helplessly clench around him, your moans unable to be contained leave your lips one after the other. âMmm.â He hummed. âWhenâd you become so needy?â
As those words left his mouth, he stops all movements on you. Pulling away with one swift motion. Once again, you were a trembling mess underneath him. The ache between your thighs was only growing by the second.
âMichael, Please, pleaseâŚâ you groan in frustration, your voice cracking. âI canât-â
You felt like an idiot, not being able to form a single helpful word. Instead you mumbled, an awful attempt at trying to form a coherent sentence.
âYou canât what, mama?â he whispers. âTell me exactly what you want me to do, or Iâm going to leave you waiting like this all night.â
âI need toâŚ,â you whine, your voice was a, desperate gasp into the sheets as you completely surrender to his terms. âPlease- let come.â
His bottom lip sinks down between his teeth at your words, his expression darkening.
Without another word spoken, he ruthlessly flips you onto your back, only to immediately roll your weight forward. Grabbing your waist with his hands, he pulls your hips high into the air.
The side of your face stayed stuffed against the soft mattress, leaving your vision blurry as the tears started to form at your eyes.
His hands hold onto your sides, his thumbs circling the skin in a soothing manne. He runs a hand down your lower back, deep into your waist to anchor your perked frame firmly in place.
From behind, he drives forward with a sudden, relentless force, the rapid deep rhythm from behind sent shivers straight through your spine, the constant physical force driving you deeper into the mattress.
Your hands frantically pull at the sheets as he lets out all his built up frustration onto you, not leaving a single second for you to catch your breath as he completely takes over your senses.
He grabs on of your hand, holding it soothingly in his. Tracing soft patters onto your skin. Underneath all the frustration his soft and sweet demeanor was still showing.
But right in the middle of the frantic rhythm, Michael reaches forward. He grabs onto one of your hands, pulling it away from the sheets and holding it soothingly in his. While his lower body maintains the heavy pace, his long fingers relax around yours, tracing soft patterns onto your knuckles.
The contrast is overwhelming. Underneath all the frustration, his soft and sweet demeanor was still showing through.
âI've got you, baby,â he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that tender gentle tone. âDoes it feel good? Hm?â
You nod your head against the sheets, your eyes closed shut as the tears ran down your face.
âI want to hear you say it. Cmon, speak up mama. I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours.â
âYou feel so good, Mikey. God-it feels so good.â You breathe out.
âThatâs it, baby,â he panted, taking a pause. âJust stay right here and take it all from me. Youâre doing so good.â
Your mind is spinning so fast you can barely keep track of your own thoughts let alone the words coming from Michael.
His pace goes from fast to completely unhinged, throwing every last ounce of his built up frustration into you.
You could feel the heavy base of his cock as he slid in and out of you over and over, causing an echo loudly in the bedroom.
Your arousal mixing with his drips out of you completely soaking your inner thigh and the base of his cock. Turning everything into a slippery and chaotic blur.
Your mind snaps. You canât hold onto a single thought anymore as the new position allows him deeper into you, hitting your g-spot with every move completely overloading your senses.
Your fingers claw desperately into the sheets while your legs shake so hard they can barely hold your weight. Itâs too much, the blistering heat of his skin and the absolute shock of his movements driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress.
âMichaelâ!â you scream his name into the mattress, your voice completely breaking as your body finally gives out, shattering into a million pieces under his hands.
A sudden, heavy wave of pleasure washes over you, completely blanking out the rest of the world. Like a warm, glowing fog rolling through your mind, melting away every single bit of the frustration, the jealousy, and the stubborn pride youâve been holding onto all day.
The sheer, breathless force of it leaves you totally undone, you nearly gasp for air while michael continued his pace.
Slowly, he sets you down, using his hand to gently guide your weight forward until your chest is touching the mattress completely. Michael follows you right down, laying his heavy chest flat against yours to seal you into the bed, setting you in place while still letting you be perfectly comfortable under his weight.
The frantic rush was gone, his pace becomes completely broken dropping into a sloppy rhythm as his own climax finally starts to approach.
He buries his face deep into the side of your neck, his soft curls brushing against your damp cheek, and he places a tender, lingering kiss right onto your shoulder.
The soft pressure of his lips against your skin is incredibly sweet, a quiet, silent apology for his roughness that lets you know the storm is officially over.
Then, with one last uneven stroke from behind, Michael stumbles completely into his own climax. The final shred of his forced restraint snaps in an instant and he completely lets go of the control heâs been fighting so hard to keep all day.
A deep groan rips from the very back of his throat, one that vibrates directly through your spine and echoes into the quiet bedroom. His entire body goes rigid against yours, his large hands clamping onto your waist with a sudden, bruising intensity as he pours every last drop of his white-hot seed into you.
His body relaxes, falling heavily over your back as he sinks right into that same warm, floating euphoria with you. He is entirely spent, his frantic breathing slowing down against your shoulder as the two of you lie tangled together in the silent.
After a few moments, he rolls onto his side, his body shifting over the mattress to pull you against him. His hand reaches up, his fingers running gently up and down your arm as he soothed you, his thumb tracing soft, calming lines over your skin.
Leaning down, he presses a sequence of soft, lingering kisses onto your forehead, tracing a tender path down to the apple of your cheek as his warm breath fans over your face.
âYou okay, baby?â He asks, as he runs his thumb gently across your cheek to wipe away the remaining tears.
You look up into his dazed and affectionate eyes, the quiet safety of his hold completely surrounding you.
You nod your head, a lazy smile drawing across your face.
He places another soft kiss onto your forehead, before leaning down to pick you up in his arms, lifting your weight effortlessly into his chest.
You wrap your hands securely around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder.âC'mon, letâs get you cleaned up,â he murmurs softly, his voice full of a warm, sleepy affection as he carries you toward the bathroom.
You lean your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he carries you.
Suddenly, a playful spark returns to your mind, and you tilt your head up to look at his smirk through a mischievous smile.
âYou know whatâs funny?,â you mumbled, resting your chin against his collarbone. âI wasnât even trying that hard.â
Michael stops right in the bathroom doorway, letting out a low chuckle as he shakes his head in absolute disbelief. âYou never learn, do you, mama?â he murmured.
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