i told the moon about you

you lower yourself to your knees, obedient and reverent and oh so devoted. you look up at him, now, from between his legs, and he offers a smile that's benevolent, satisfied, like a king whose knight has sworn fealty for life. he reaches down and brushes his knuckles across your cheek, so lightly it makes your skin tingle. his hand cups your cheek, then, and his thumb runs along your lower lip.

still in that gentle, almost affectionate tone, he says, "open."

you open your mouth, and he slides his thumb in, pressing down on your tongue. you take the hint and close your lips around the digit, sucking gently and swirling your tongue, all the while keeping eye contact with him.

with your master.

"good," he praises softly, his other hand moving to curl into the hair at the nape of your neck. he guides your head back, encouraging his thumb deeper into your mouth, watching you intently as you eagerly accommodate.

he makes you suck on his thumb until spit drips down your chin and slowly down your throat.

you can tell he's affected, too; his breath is ragged, still quiet but faster and shallower than usual. his eyes burn into you, now, no longer pious but passionate and dark, like he's imagining finally disrobing and letting you kiss and lick and suck his drooling, twitching cock.

like he wants to finally let you see him as something other than holy.

but, as always, he tugs on your hair, pulling your head back hard enough to make you inhale sharply through your nose. you watch him, waiting for his next directive, but he doesn't give you one. he simply pulls his thumb from your mouth, stands and gathers his composure once more. then he praises you for kneeling for worship, and when he leaves your humble room, you wish he would come back and give in to temptation.

there is always, you suppose, hope for tomorrow.

a/n: idk like. put me in coach, yk?

at that you finally do cry out, equal parts indignant and wounded. “i can!”

“oh, you can, huh?” his teeth graze your jaw, your neck. “you want me to let loose? want me to really fuck you, hm?”

you nod again. and that’s when his cruelty really starts to shine.

he makes you take it all, and fast. he shoves your face into the pillows and fucks you like you’re just one of his enemies he’s playing with before certain decimation. his hips slam into yours over and over again, his cock grinding ruthlessly against your g-spot until you’re moaning like a whore into the pillowcase.

he chuckles again, and this time it’s quiet and thrilled and just a little savage. his fingers curl into your hair, pressing you down harder. “that’s right,” he whispers, half satisfaction and half desire for more. “take it, baby.”

he picks up the pace, and you let out a cry so loud it echoes in the bedroom.

and he just grins, that feral light in his eyes when he says, “aw, baby…

“i thought you said you could take it.”

a/n: i really need to write for somebody else guys. getting ridiculous. anyway, can you tell what i think about when im bored at work?