#CERTIFIED

You sigh. It’s tempting, and it’s not as if you can think straight right now anyway. It’s true, you’re just as succumbed to him as he is to you, maybe it’s not a bad idea. You shift in your chair, pushing yourself backwards to make enough room to stand. Once you do, he straightens his stance.

“Alright,” you sigh, albeit a little shaky. “But get it over with, I still have like, a stack of papers to go throu—”

It’s pointless. Xavier’s hands are already on you, savoring every little bump of your waist. He writhes in response to your body rousing, causing him to sluggishly continue his movements until your back is pushed against the wall.

“Xavier—” you wriggle, your hands finding their way on his face. You instantly melt into him. He doesn’t waste any time either, immediately catching onto your signals and clashing his mouth against yours. His kiss isn’t exactly gentle. As he’s roaming your body, he sucks on your bottom lip, ocassionally nibbling at it before soothing it with a smooth swipe of his wet tongue.

He does this until you see stars, until your sweat manages to merge with his. It’s not helping you cool down in the slightest; rather, it only spurs you on. His hands continue exploring your curves, eventually reaching your lower back and pushing you even closer towards him, until you’re planted against his hard planes.

“Is this helping?” Xavier already knows the answer, however you’re already familiarized with all his antics: he likes provoking you more than anything. Gauging your reactions as his attention is solely focused on you is one of the most endearing things for him— hence, when you whimper in response, he takes it up a notch, shifting his thigh in between yours. “Hold onto me.”

Nodding, you wrap your arms around his neck, already starting to squirm under him. Maybe you truly are claustrophobic. You’re (un)fortunate enough to be squished in between a pent up Xavier and that wall, what else could it be, if not that feeling of impeding doom filling your lungs?

He leans down to catch your lips into a deeper clash, practically absorbing all of your broken murmurs dropping off in his mouth. You fidget with his collar in response, trying to get at least a little bit of the same friction you so-desperately crave.

“I missed you,” He continues, his hot breath plunging right in your mouth. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait— haah, any longer.”

You hurriedly pull away to answer him. “It’s, it’s fine, I— mmph!” aaand before you know it, he’s back to swirling his tongue against yours. Xavier didn’t wait a second longer. Once he breaks it again, as if it somehow proved a point, he’s continuing his relentless attacks on your neck.

“D–D’you have to be so—” Another choke escapes your throat. Xavier can sense your resolve weakening with each passing second, your breathy grunts and soft whimpers music to his ears. His hands knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your hips, fingers digging into you possessively as you slowly grind yourself on him. He nips and sucks at your pulse point, determined to see you over the edge.

What a greedy bastard. He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence, nor does he answer it.

You invite him further, plunging against him until he can feel your heart jumping in your chest. One hand slides up your stomach, palming your breast through your shirt, thumbing at the stiff peak of your nipple. He can feel it pebble under his touch, which can only mean you’re letting go of all that weight on your shoulders.

Sort of exactly what his objective has been. He needed you to relax into him, to melt into his arms as he’s towering over you, holding you pinned against that damned wall. He needed to see the tension leave your eyes and muscles, to finally take time to yourself to relax.

“Why… ‘re you slowing down?”

Xavier only chuckled to your question. “Haven’t you calmed down enough?”

he’s tired—can barely move, and yet, he still calls you to him.

“sweetheart,” his voice gruff, carrying a slight rasp as he beckons you. “c’mere please.”

a frown etches itself on your face, walking your way to him from the kitchen. “baby, ‘m almost done with din–”

you don’t get the chance to finish your complaint when he’s pulling you by the arm into his lap. a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sudden movement. then you’re settled, straddling the large expanse of his lap and you feel it. 

he wraps his arms around your body, flushing you against his chest. his lips press against the shell of your ear and he whispers, “don’t care about dinner, just let me hold my wife, yeah?”

he swears it’s all he needs—to hold you close and inhale your scent—but his pulse is racing and blood roars in his ears all due to sheer desire and he can’t stop himself from shifting his hips the slightest bit. 

you feel that, too. it elicits a sharp gasp. 

you can almost hear the small smirk forming on his lips, “how was your day, beautiful?” he murmurs, hands moving to your hips. 

and his movements are so calculated. from the way he ever so gently grounds you into him to the way his breath fans against your ear sending shivers down your spine. 

“was fine…” you mumble, unable to stop the way you shift in his lap, body begging for more attention. “missed you.”

“yeah?” he asks, his voice is low and nearly unrecognizable. “missed you s’much more, my love. been waiting for this moment all day.” 

you pull back slightly to look into his eyes. they’re tired. exhausted even, but they still hold that fire. that pure, burning desire. they’re his fuck me eyes. and, god, do you love them.

“zaynie,” you whisper, unable to trust your shaky voice. 

he hums, and the soft, pitched noise has you leaking through your bottom, probably leaving a wet patch right on his pants. “tell me, sweetheart.” his hands squeeze at your sides and his hips slowly, but surely, roll into you. "what did you do today?"

you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing. "mmph, not much…" another roll, evoking another wet gasp. "fuck, just… cleaned, w-went on a walk—" he's pushing against you deeper now. you feel the outline of his cock push into you with every not-so-little thrust. "s-saw, saw that stray kitty in the park again."

"mmm, we should really take her in, shouldn't we?" he breathes, cock twitching at the sound of your voice breaking with every grind.

"zaynie," your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him back so you can look at him. his face is flushed, pink blooming over his cheeks and spreading to the tips of his ears. you gyrate against him, pulling a breathy moan from your husbands hung open mouth. "dinner's gonna burn."

"let it burn then." he says, the words coming out in a hiss. "need my wife—we can order takeout later, i'll even cook, don't care. let me just have you like this first." 

a beg. to the untrained ear, you can't hear it, but you know zayne like the back of your hand. you know that heat curls in his stomach, that tension lies in every bone in his body, that pure desire is the only thing he feels right now. the need to be close to you is strong, but the need to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking you till he's completely stress free and you're completely full of his cum is much, much stronger. 

it's why all the fatigue evaporates and he can't stop himself from flipping you onto the plush couch— rubbing into you you like he might die without feeling the outline of your pussy through your soddened panties and leggings . he can't even be bothered to rid you of your clothes… he craves the release. he needs it more than anything. needs you more than anything.

you let out a pathetic needy sob, overly worked up by him fucking you through your clothes. "z-zayne, more—ugh, need more. t-take it off, please." 

his cock twitches helplessly at the sound. it's what he's been missing while drowning in work for hours on end. 

"sweetheart," he moans brokenly. "promise i'll fuck you just the way you like—just need you to take this first. you can do that for me, can't you?" he whispers and the word shoot an immense amount of heat straight to your core. "you can be a good little wife, right, darling?"

you can never say no to him, especially when he talks to you like that. you respond wordlessly, giving your husband what he wants—no, what he needs—and wrap your legs securely around his slim waist. 

"that's it, good girl." and the way zayne sounds is the polar opposite of the weight of his words. his voice is frayed, desperate. "f-feels, ha, feels so good like this, yeah?" 

his hips move faster, imitating the way they would if he were actually inside of you fucking you with full force. your body rocks with every thrust, every grind, your tits bounce underneath your apron, the couch—even as firm as it sits—sways with you in tandem.

it goes on and on. endless, whiny praises from him, sobbing pleas from you, your bodies rubbing against one another effectively ruining his dry-clean-only slacks till you finally feel that tight knot form in your lower belly. 

and he's close, too, but zayne's been close to coming undone—he just didn't want to let go without you. 

it happens so quickly that you barely have the time to process it. "baby, baby," you gasp, nerve-endings coming alive while your heart pounds at the speed of light. "'m—oh, fuck, baby. 'm cumming, cumming, cumming."

"cum with me, sweet girl." he wheedles, never losing his momentum for a second. he grinds you both through it till he feels your body pull taut underneath him. till you're shaking and sobbing and clinging onto him for dear life. 

then he stills and his orgasm is explosive. he's vocal, moaning out your name mixed with all the sweet pet names he's given you. his cum leaks through his boxers and said dry-clean-only slacks, beading out of the fabric in a taboo, yet very erotic way. 

it takes you both minutes to come down till the smell of burning food fills your nostrils.

then you hear the unmistakable beeping of the fire alarm.

"oh, shit."

KIT SAYS... they took my yaoi/bl app away from me. if you guys know where i can read my yaoi ad free, email me. (dm me or send me an ask, I'm begging i need to fujo out over hot men that kiss) oh and this isn't proofread lol