rowan

“Mouth open, pup,” Noah’s voice is so soft, even as he tugs on your collar to make you look at him. “Treat time.”

You open your mouth obediently, eyes fixed on his own lips as they curl into a pleased smirk.

“Good girl,” he plucks a treat from the little box beside him, placing it onto your tongue gently. “Stay.”

You shift your weight, mouth watering slightly, but not making any moves to close it.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Eat your treat, pretty.”

You chew with a pleased hum, a subtle strawberry flavour spreading across your tongue mixed with something else you can’t quite place. It’s almost earthy, barely there.

He cups your cheek affectionately, and you turn your head to nuzzle against his open palm. His hands smell of pine, plain soap and the inescapable tang of sweat.

He doesn’t flinch when he feels your tongue against his skin, shaking his head in amusement. “Silly girl. My hands can’t possibly taste better than your treat.”

You hum again in response, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent deeply. A torturous sight for a man so easily undone by you, trying hard to maintain the control you’ve handed over to him.

It is through sheer audacious willpower that he manages to overcome the urges to take you then and there, allowing you to curl up by his feet instead. He wants you to feel the effects of the treat before he is to do anything.

His cock twitches in his pants when you whine softly, your eyes finding him in confusion as you begin to feel hazy.

“What…?” You murmur, sitting up again.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, hand coming to cup your cheek again, thumb brushing over your spit-slicked bottom lip.

The confusion on your face should not be so beautiful, the way your brows furrow and your lips pucker softly. Nobody’s army could drag him away from you now, not when you’re so pliant and trusting.

You focus on the bulge in his pants like a bloodhound would zero in on a scent.

“That wasn’t a normal treat, was it.” It’s not a question. You know, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your head is fuzzy and all you can see is the outline of his cock through a fabric barrier.

“No, baby,” he lifts your chin up with the tip of his finger, leaning down to give you the ghost of a kiss that leaves you chasing for more when he pulls back.

Subconsciously, you know you should be more upset that he’s forced an edible into you, and a strong one considering the way your world is quickly narrowing down into you and him, everything else washing away in a heady wave of warmth.

“S’ beautiful like this,” he breathes. His free hand trails down to fiddle with his belt and zipper. “Want another treat? No surprises this time, pup.”

You nod and scramble to settle properly between his legs, clumsy, eager.

“Oh, so desperate to taste me, hm?”

You paw at his thighs in response, silently begging him to take the damn pants off. He chuckles and obliges, shimmying them down his legs along with his boxers until his cock springs out, hard and flushed.

You waste no time in leaning forward and taking the leaking tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it to clean up the slightly bitter liquid already coating your tastebuds.

He groans, one hand fisting into your hair immediately. “Fuuck, just like that. Good girl.”

You take him deeper, gagging as the thick head hits the back of your throat but not stopping. You’re determined to take it, always eager to please him.

His head tips back against the couch cushions, eyes screwing shut in bliss. “Keep going, that’s it, fuck-”

Humming around his length, you jerk off what you can’t fit in your mouth, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth.

He lets out another choked moan that turns into a hiss of overwhelmed pleasure, his cock twitching against your tongue.

“Shit, pup… g’na cum, keep going.”

It only takes a few more moments of your mouth on him before he’s spilling down your throat in hot, thick ropes that drip down your chin and paint your chest a pearly white.

You only let him go when you feel him softening in your mouth, twitching through the aftershocks. He stares down at you, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

“Was that nice, beautiful?” He rasps, watching the way you wipe your mouth.

“Mhmm,” you lean your cheek against his thigh. “My favourite.”

“Oh, puppy,” he chuckles. “I know.”

You sigh sleepily, licking your lips. You can feel yourself drifting off to somewhere even further as you stare up at him adoringly.

“Now, want me to take care of you?” He murmurs:

holland and healy had closed another case, which meant what it always does - holland wasn't going to be home before you fell asleep. he'd be there when you woke up, sure. but you usually found him sprawled somewhere uncomfortable because he stumbled and couldn't pull himself back up. you couldn't say you were a huge fan of holland's drinking anyway, that's for sure.

holly had asked to stay with her friend tonight, jessica, which you agreed to seeing as it was a friday night. so, with the house to yourself, you decided to pour a glass of wine and run yourself a bath. nothing wrong with a little self care time. you filled the tub, added some bubbles, lit a few candles and stripped down before sinking into the comfort of the warm water, letting all of your stress wash away.

you let yourself relax in the bath for a long while, your thoughts seeping into nothingness as your muscles relaxed and your eyes fluttered shut.

one thought did weasel its way back in however.

the thought of your husband.

fuck, why'd he have to do this to you all the time? i mean, the occasional drink, the often drink, you'd understand. but constant drinking? it was a problem. you'd fought over it before, and in his defense he's better now than he used to be. but he's far from where you need him to be.

you missed him. that was a lot of the problem. it was a layered issue, obviously. there was three main parts in your view: holland self destructing, holland being hammered around holly, and you missing your husband. you hated it.

you missed the little things. movie nights with him and holly where you'd all snuggle up to fit under one blanket, you and holly on either side of him to steal his warmth and steal the popcorn from the bowl he held. you missed holding his hand, missed when he'd scoop you up in his arms and attack you with kisses to make you laugh sweetly. you missed dancing with him in your kitchen at god knows what time long after holly had gone to bed.

you missed his touch. when he came home early enough to take you to bed and make sweet love to you. when slow, loving kisses turned to heated passion. when the tip of his cock would meet your tongue and make him whine. when the feeling of his moustache scratching against you was delicious enough to make you arch your back and make that pretty little sound that drove him crazy. when he'd fuck you and kiss you and babble sweet everythings to your soul until you saw the sun peek through the blinds. you missed that.

the thoughts were racing through your head faster than you could stop them. it'd been a while since you'd had sex now, with holland and healy taking case after case. he just wasn't home enough. typically, you'd have holly in the house, so it wasn't the most important thing you were thinking of. you were living without it. but holly wasn't here tonight. just you. and the images in your head were screaming at you to let them take over.

so you did. you downed the rest of your wine, setting the empty glass down on the floor next to the tub, before settling back and getting comfortable.

you let one hand slowly slide down your body under the water, stopping briefly to toy with your nipple. the small noise of sensitivity that left your throat only showcased how long you'd gone without it. you stayed with it for a while, before letting your hand fall further under the water, tracing down your stomach to your oh so needy pussy. you gasped shakily when your fingers met your aching clit. you began rubbing small, slow circles, like holland would when he was teasing. "s' okay, doll, i'll get you there. just gonna play with you a little..." he'd say as you whined sweetly at him.

you weren't greedy. not yet anyway. you simply rubbed yourself in slow motions, letting little breathy sighs slip past your lips as you thought of your husband and what he'd do to you.

as you grew closer, you sped up slightly, hearing his voice in your head. "atta girl, c'mon. y'gonna cum on my fingers, babydoll? yeah? that's my girl, c'mon..."

that always took you over the edge, and tonight wasn't any different, despite the fact that he wasn't even here. his voice in your head was enough to have your legs shaking, splashing water onto the floor. you gripped the side of the tub with your free hand and moaned loud as you came.

you came back down to earth with shaky breaths and small whimpers of your husband's name. you chuckled breathlessly when you saw how much water you'd kicked onto the floor during your orgasm. you pulled the plug and stepped out of the bath, bracing yourself on the wall for a moment to regain the strength in your legs. you wrapped a soft towel around yourself before grabbing a second towel to dry up the mess on the tiles.

once the floor was dry, you padded into your bedroom and dumped the wet towel in the washing basket in the corner before using the softer one wrapped around you to dry yourself off. you dried off your hair, slipping into a pair of soft panties and one of holland's shirts that retained his scent before curling up in bed. your face buried itself in the pillows as you fell asleep on your side, facing away from where holland would be sleeping if he was home with you.

holland finally stumbled through the door with whisky on his breath in the early hours of the morning, his attempt at being quiet not working out so well for him. he sauntered his way to your shared bedroom, pulling his tie loose as he went. this was one of the few times he actually made it to your bedroom rather than falling over and just choosing to stay there for the night. when he entered, he saw his beautiful wife asleep under the covers. alone. again.

it really did break his heart seeing you curled up on your own. he wishes he was a better man. he wants to be, really. but he's not.

he sighs softly, cut off by a drunken hiccup. he strips himself down to his boxers, albeit clumsily, and pulled back the covers to climb into bed with you. but when he did, he saw that the shirt you were wearing - his shirt - had ridden up to your waist, revealing those soft panties that clung to your ass just the way he liked. oh dear god.

he was hard in seconds. record time, honestly. although his previous times were stiff competition, holland always got it up quick for you. he couldn't help it. he loves his wife.

his drunk brain was a mess, but he was ever so kindly reminded of a time when you'd told him you wouldn't mind if he fucked you when you slept. oh, he was so grateful to remember that right now.

holland brushes your hair out of the way and presses his lips to the back of your neck gently, his hand finding its way to your hip. he squeezes gently as he sucks the most gentle hickeys into your neck, careful not to wake up his sleeping beauty. he slowly starts to rut against your ass, whimpering as he does so.

he slides his hand down slowly under your panties, letting out a soft moan when he finds you already wet even in your sleep. he does exactly what you'd pictured earlier, rubbing you in slow, soft circles, making you gasp softly as you slept.

"shit, mh... s'cute..."

holland finally couldn't take it anymore. he removed his fingers from your dripping folds, bringing them up to his lips and whining at the taste of his girl. he drew your panties down just enough, and removed his boxers entirely, tossing them across the room haphazardly. he reached down and grabbed his cock at the base, jerking it a couple of times before lining himself up at your entrance. he slid his tip through your folds once or twice before finally sinking into you with a pathetic moan. he heard you whimper all soft and sleepy and he had to fight not to cum right then and there.

he tried to let you adjust so you'd be less likely to wake up, but you just felt so warm and wet and good, he couldn't help himself. his hips started moving in a sloppy rhythm, his sounds echoing through the room.

"oh, doll... mm! oh m- oh fuck, fuck, baby, y're soso good, so good, ohh..."

holland was falling apart inside you. he was a slurring, babbling mess. though that was true of him when he was sober too. he always thought you were made for him in every possible way. he always told you that. "you're my pretty doll. made fr' me. you're my perfect girl..." he'd whisper to you, looking deep into your eyes like your soul was swimming in there.

it wasn't long at all until he reached his peak, his voice an octave higher and his pretty noises coming more frequently. he came with the prettiest moan, his release flooding into you.

he stayed like that, stayed inside you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his nose into your neck. he fell asleep drowning in you, just where he always wanted to be. always.

he wanted to be a better man for you. and for holly. and by god, he was going to be. starting right now. he was going to be happy.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Ryland: I think it depends on how bratty you’ve been. If you’ve been good but just let a swear slip out, it’s “language, pup.” In a firm but gentle voice, accompanied by a short tug on your leash.

If you’ve been an absolute brat, oh you’re in for it. Say “fuck” one time and he’s pulling you over his lap, pulling your jeans down and spanking your ass until you’re crying. He’ll make you count, too.

“Bad girl. What did I say about swearing, hm? Pups don’t swear.” As his hand cracks across your ass.

Driver: I see him as the type to make sure you definitely won’t do that again. He’ll give you a look, eyebrow slightly quirked, and say “and you were being so good for me.” Before edging you for hours. He’ll only let you cum when you promise that you’ve learned your lesson, legs shaking and tears streaming down your face.

Lars: He’s probably the softest of the bunch. “Language, sweetheart.” With a little frown. He’ll sit you in his lap and kiss you breathless until you’re desperate, then he’ll deny you for the night. “I’m sorry, but you have to learn your lesson.”

Noah: He’d sigh deeply and shake his head. “That mouth of yours, darlin…” before kissing you to wash your mouth out. He’d tug your collar gently to keep you close, his other hand on your hip. Then he’d fuck you deep and slow, keeping you on the edge and murmuring “good girls don’t talk like that.”

Holland: depends on how drunk he is! It’s either a look and a tsk or a “the fuck did you just say?” before he has you choking on his cock, his belt attached to your collar as a makeshift leash. “Dirty mouthed brat,” he’ll mutter, forcing the tip down your throat until you gag, drool dripping down your chin.

Luke: another “it depends” but… I’m gonna give you this. One slip up and his hand is gripping your chin, making you look him in the eyes. He’ll lean in close and growl “that mouth has better fucking uses” before forcing you down onto your knees, one hand fisting into your hair to keep you still as he feeds his cock past your lips. He’ll use you as he pleases until tears are running down your cheeks then pull out to cum on your face. “Will you do that again? No? That’s what I thought.”

Colt: He’d stop and tilt his head at you, quirking an eyebrow. “You wanna repeat that, pretty?” and when you shake your head he’ll chuckle. “Cute.”

He’ll make you suck him off, thrusting lightly. “That’s it, use that pretty mouth right. Get me nice and wet so I can fuck you.”