Aside from being a multifandom blog (Doctor Who, Avengers, Loki, Phantom of the Opera, Tom Hiddleston, David Tennant) plus my original fanfiction, This also is my personal blog, chronicling my life with depression and anxiety disorder, and my healing work from a childhood of abuse. Member of the "Dirty 30" club! ♥♥ Occasionally NSFW, so be warned!
Waking up in a strange bed made my brain fuzzy. I’m in a strange bed, and I’m alone. Or at least I’m alone for the moment. Sitting up, I pull the blankets up in a semblance of modesty as I try to put together where I am.
Right… I’m at Pedro’s house. I’m in his bed. His bed that’s extremely comfortable, and where we didn’t exactly sleep much. Soft noises let me know that he must be in the kitchen. I slip out of bed and start looking for something I can wear. My eyes land on one of those plaid shirts he seems to have a million of and I pull it on. It smells of his cologne and that whiff of what I’ve learned is just Pedro. It’s like cinnamon and whiskey, a sharp bite of something that’s still warm and inviting. And I’m quickly becoming addicted to it.
Wandering into the kitchen, I see him starting the coffeemaker. He’s clad in nothing but his boxer briefs, black cotton hugging his slim hips and rounded butt that move to the soft tune he’s humming. His hair is still messy and I can see faint scratch marks on his back from last night, bruises from my teeth. He is the picture of craven debauchery. I can’t help leaning in the doorway to just watch him. He’s adorable really.
“You were supposed to stay asleep.” He speaks before even turning to look at me. “You need your rest, novia. I hoped you would sleep and I would bring you coffee.” When he does turn towards me, the warmth and pure love in his eyes almost weakens me. He gently kisses me, pressing me against the doorframe. A smile appears as he pulls back. “I do love seeing you in my shirt. It ruins my plans to keep you naked all while you’re here.”
I let out a groan as he presses one leg against me. Last night we discovered that we both enjoy me grinding on his thighs. The thick muscles are perfect for pleasure. “Baby girl, so wet for me already,” he purrs, nuzzling and nipping my neck. “Such a good girl, aren’t you? Tell daddy how good you are. Tell daddy how you’re feeling.”
My arms go around his shoulders, a necessary move if I’m to keep my balance. “I want you, daddy,” I moan softly. “I was so sad when I woke up alone.” He answers with a moan as I grind harder. He’s right, I’m dripping wet for him. There’s no denying that my body will forever react to him this way.
“Oh sweetheart, I never want you to be sad. Daddy’s going to make it better.” His thigh moves higher, meeting my movements to enhance my pleasure. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you baby girl? Cum for me, cariña.”
All I can do is obey his command. I roll my hips, grinding harder until I let out a soft scream of his name. His smile shows just how pleased he is by this. While I catch my breath, he peppers soft kisses over my cheeks and lips. “Good girl. Now, go back and get in the bed. I’ll bring your coffee.” His leg lowered to let my feet touch the cool tiles. “Go on.”
It was almost tempting to wait, to see if he would discipline me somehow. The euphoria from my orgasm doesn’t let me become defiant. Instead I hurry to obey him. As I slip under the blankets, I feel giddy. There’s no need to worry that it will all vanish in the morning light. I can simply enjoy that he loves me. I can revel in the feeling of knowing that we love each other.
He appears in the doorway with two steaming mugs. The light in his eyes let’s me know that he’s on the same train of thought. He just wants to enjoy how we love each other. One mug is placed on the bedside table while he hands me the other. “Sweet and creamy, like you,” he teases, winking at me. It’s no surprise that he knows just how I like my coffee. And he knows just how badly I need coffee immediately in the mornings. Sipping the sweet drink, I settle back against the pillows. Pedro, however seems to have a different plan.
Carefully he crawls onto the bed, slipping under the blankets to hover over me. “Don’t spill,” he growls, winking up at me. “Just drink your coffee.”. I watch him, trying to understand. Is he… is he really… Gasping, I feel his mouth on me. Still so wet from our activities in the kitchen, he’s finding enough ‘sweet and creamy’ to satiate his desire. I’m trying to continue enjoying my coffee, but I’m not sure if I can truly drink at all. It’s creating a barrier for me. I can’t sip my coffee, and I can’t relax and enjoy what he’s doing. He realizes it, and looks up at me. “Do you need to drink some first, baby? Drink it. I’ll wait a moment.”
The momentary pause lets me drink enough that I won’t worry about it spilling and burning either one of us. As soon as I physically relax, he gets back to pleasuring me. Humming, he laps at me. Noises almost obscenely loud get me shaking. He’s wanting me to hear how much he’s enjoying this. He wants me to know that he will never stop loving me. Realizing this, I call out his name, my free hand tangling in his shaggy hair, messing it up even more.
He raises himself onto his elbows, his chin resting on his hand. “Good girl,” he hums. “I want you to remember this. You never will be made to go without.” Slowly he kisses his way up my body, then maneuvers us so that he’s against the pillows and holding me while he finally drinks his own coffee. “I am here to please you, sweetheart. All I ask is that you let me take care of you body and soul. You will not be left wanting in any way. I will spoil you completely. You know that I know what you like, what you’ve been looking for in a lover. You will only have to trust me to give this to you. Can you do that? Will you trust me to love you?”
This isn’t precisely the same ground we covered last night. It’s what is needed though. “Pedro, you are the only one I can trust that way.” He’s my best friend. He knows me so well, and I know he would never hurt me. “I love you, Pedro. I love you and I want this with you.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead he places both coffee mugs on the table once more before moving my body. Once his boxers are off, he pulls me over his body, letting me straddle him and feel how hard he is for me, only for me. As we kiss, he presses inside me, starting smooth thrusts. Our kisses are broken up by his fevered curses and loving words in a foreign tongue. His voice, his tone, the soft desperation as he moves within me, it’s overwhelming. I’m quickly falling… falling… only he can save me from the dark loneliness. Only this… that seems to be the saving of him. The heat in his eyes is mixed with a light, his heart and soul bared to me. Falling… falling… flying into complete bliss with Pedro following me with a shout of joy.
We collapse together, tangled and smothered in blankets and pillows, blissful and sated. He smiles at me as if our love is all he needs. “Let’s finish our coffee,” he whispers after minutes go by and we both our breath back and our wits collected. “I plan to spend today in bed with you, and you need to be ready for what’s coming.”
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This might have been a bad idea. I hadn’t seen Pedro in months. When he texted me, I probably should have said that I’d meet him somewhere for dinner. Instead, we’re sitting here on his sofa, a bottle of wine nearly empty now after our takeaway dinner.
I’m sitting entirely too close to him. He’s one of my best friends, and I’ve had feelings for him for way too long. Since he’s usually gone filming for months at a time, I can usually keep my lust to controllable levels, especially since we usually hang out in groups. One on one time is rare. It has to be. If I’m alone with him too much, I start getting sad because I cannot let him know.
Feeling his eyes on me, I force a smile as I turn to face him. “So, tell me, when do you have to go back to film? And can you tell me anything about what happens next?”
That cheeky grin… so innocent and yet so naughty. I love that grin. “You know I’m not allowed to say anything about what’s happening next,” he drawls. “The Disney snipers are everywhere. I would have told you about little Grogu, you know I would have told you if I could, honey.”
Oh I knew it. I knew it too well. He was unfailingly open with me. Talking with him would fill hours. He never held anything back, unless, as with his show, he was contractually unable to talk about it. I, on the other hand, held back part of myself. It was how I lived my life, really. Strict and unyielding boundaries. It was the only way I knew to feel safe.
“Okay, fine,” I laugh, trying desperately to get back to a better place. As I laugh, Pedro starts to top off my wine. “Hey, you don’t want any more? I’m good, really. Besides, I still have to go home.” It was getting late, and any more wine would turn me weepy and clingy. That’s the last thing I needed. Once I got home, then I could throw shoes and cry. Or more likely, I’ll go home and try desperately to get myself off. My underwear is already soaked. By the time I get home, it might be drenched and falling apart.
“Oh no, you aren’t going home now.” His voice took on a slightly stern tone that sent a shiver through me. My theory is that he would be a talented dominant. Something about his tone and the way he would just lift one eyebrow pushed me into a submissive attitude. I constantly tried to hide from him that I have those fantasies. He would never let me hear the end of it.
“What? I didn’t say now. I meant in an hour or two,” I stutter, wondering where this change came from. What was he thinking?
“You’re staying here tonight. You’re staying with me.” So matter of fact. He just said this as if… as if he was in charge. As if he was in fact taking control. As he watches me, there is a heat in his eyes. His tongue darts out over his lips before he leans in closer. “I want you to stay here with me, sweetheart.”
The knot in my throat almost makes it impossible for me to speak. There’s a change here. Something shifted after I got here, and I don’t know how to find my footing. Swallowing thickly, I manage to squeak out “You have your guest room ready for me?”
The warmth in his eyes becomes almost amused. “No, sweetheart. You are staying with me. I texted you about coming over tonight because I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of trying to hold back when all I want is to wake up with you in my arms after making love half the night. I’m tired of watching you try so desperately to hold tight to control when you need someone to take control for you and let you feel safe at last.”
I know I must look like an idiot with the way I’m just gaping at him. He knows me so well, even catching on to the small things that I try so hard to hide. Blinking slowly, I whisper “You’ve been pretending… pretending what? You… want me?”
“If that’s the simple way to say it, then yes. But it’s not that simple.” His arm slowly wraps around me. Pedro is a man who freely gives affection. He’s never held back from hugging any of his friends. Any time we’re all together, he’s got an arm around someone… around me most of the time, if I’m honest. In this moment, however, he’s moving slowly, giving me the chance to grow used to this, used to us. “I’ve loved you for so long. Every time I leave, it’s harder to be away from you. I’m always afraid that I’ve lost my chance. And I have to know if you could even let me love you like I’m dying to. Please let me love you.”
He means it. That’s the one solid thought I can manage. He really means that he loves me. Reaching up, I touch his cheek, watching as he leans into it. He is such a tactile person, so affectionate. “Let me love you,” I repeat. “Pedro I’ve been in love with you all this time. I’ve been trying to not let you know how pathetically in love with you I am because I figured you didn’t feel that way.”
My words are cut off by his lips landing on mine.
It’s everything I’ve dreamed of. I’ve watched his shows and movies often enough that I’ve thought I had a pretty good idea of what it would be like kissing him. It’s all of that and so much more. He’s pulling me closer, his tongue teasing my lips, inviting me to deepen this kiss. He tastes like more than the wine we’ve shared. There’s a hint of just him, cinnamon and whiskey, warmth and home. I accept the invitation willingly. He cups my face like he needs to keep me close. Then he pulls back enough to look at me, to make sure I’m still okay with this. That look in his eyes appears again, that look of stern adoration.
“You were hiding from me? You really thought you should keep me from knowing that you love me? Oh sweetheart, that is unacceptable.”
Dear god I was right. He is an absolute Dom. His tone is perfect. I have to test the boundaries here, at least a little. I have to know just what I’m in for. “What should I do, Sir?”
His eyes go dark. I’m almost proud of the fact that I can do that to him. Before I can revel in that feeling, he leans back, rolling his sleeves up. A smirk appears as he studies me for a long moment. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re about to get a spanking.”
Oh. Dear. God.
“You think I wasn’t paying attention that night? When you ladies were discussing all your kinks and likes, oh I was paying close attention to you, cariña. I heard you murmuring about a firm hand and submitting in bed. I almost came in my jeans listening to you. Now I won’t repeat myself. Tell me.”
Every single kink on my list is being checked off by him. Taking a breath, I answer “I was hiding my feelings from you. And I thought I was going home, instead of staying with you.”
The pleased look in his eyes makes me almost smile. “Good girl. You’re right. And you noticed that I was unhappy about you trying to leave me. Since you did, you will not get as many spankings as I thought to give you. Only five instead of ten. Now, stand up, and strip for me.”
Even as I stand, I know he sees my hesitation. “Yes, baby, strip. Leave your underwear on for now though. Let daddy see you.”
He’s got me in a trance. My sweater comes off quickly, leggings following easily. I never knew his jaw could tighten that much. Desire is burning us both, the heat flushing my skin as I see it surging in his eyes. Like a panther stalking his prey, Pedro stands and walks towards me, circling me as he studies my form. “Beautiful baby girl,” he purrs, sending shudders through me. “Absolutely beautiful.” Then he stops directly in front of me. The dominant in him fades back and my friend reappears. “Tell me if you want to stop. If you don’t want this, you only need to say the word, sweetheart. I will not force you.”
That kindness in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, it all makes me weak in the best way. Reaching out to him, I trace over his lips as I whisper “I want this with you, only you.”
He grins before his eyes darken again. “Good girl.” The praise raises my confidence, and I proudly lift my chin and smile. The smile is broken by a gasp as he scoops me into his arms, carrying me into his bedroom. He kisses me greedily until he sets me on my feet and points. “Hands on the bed,” he growls. “Five for you instead of ten. I’ll count them out for you.”
Swat!
His hands must have been made for spanking. I’ve always secretly wanted to know if those large hands would do this well. He’s perfect. He’s walking that line of pleasure and pain, keeping my attention and training me to let him care for me. Once the spanking has been finished, he sits, pulling me into his arms. “You did well, sweetheart. You’re perfect, so good for me. Please tell me I can have you now? Please say I can finally show you how badly I’ve wanted you.”
I almost can’t speak. Trembling in his arms, I look up, nodding as best I can. “No, no, say the words,” he murmurs. “Be my good girl and use your words.”
Gulping, I gather myself and answer “Please show me, sir. I want you.”
His waiting attitude snaps. With a moan he strips my bra from my body, my underwear following quickly. I watch as he stares at my bare form. “Oh baby girl, look at you. Look at my gorgeous darling. You look delicious. And I have to have you.” Spreading my legs, he dives in, moaning against me as he tastes me for the first time. I have fantasized about this countless times, but nothing has prepared me for the thorough ravaging that commences. Reaching down, my fingers tangle in his shaggy brown hair. I can’t help tugging softly. Quickly I realize that he must absolutely love that feeling, because he groans and intensifies his movements. As he slips one finger inside me, I gasp, the sound blending with his groans. “God, oh sweetheart you’re going to feel so good around me. Cum for me, baby girl. Cum for daddy. Let me see you cum.”
My body arches as I scream. I feel him slip a second finger inside me, rubbing and thrusting just right to draw pleasure out. Shaking, my legs almost clamp around his shoulders. As I come down from the high, he moves to embrace me, whispering in soothing tones. “So good, such a good girl. So beautiful when you cum. That’s right baby, oh I love you.” Clinging to him, I realize he’s still dressed at the same moment he does. Chuckling, he pulls back slightly. “I’m not going far, baby. I just need to feel your skin against mine.”
He makes quick work of his own clothing and crouches over me. I can’t help staring at his body. His muscle tone is outstanding, with just a little hint of softness at his stomach which is somehow endearing. His cock… oh good god his cock is thick and he’s clearly aching for me. “I’ll wear a condom if you want,” he rasps. “I know you… oh god I know you’ve said you’re covered, and I’m clean…”
I start shaking my head almost immediately. Now that we’re here in this moment, I can’t imagine any sort of barrier between us. “I want to feel you daddy. Please I want you now.”
With a moan he starts pressing against me, taking his time. Each push lets him slip just a little deeper, stretch me a little more. Finally, finally his hips are flush against mine, and he smiles as if he’s never been happier. “Perfect, baby,” he sighs. “You’re perfect.” After taking a moment for us both to simply revel in the sensations, he starts rocking his hips. The motions are slow, steady, building up towards an edge for us. His lips never leave mine for long. Soon a switch is flipped. His slim hips start moving faster, pounding into me, my screams seeming to fuel his desire. Clenching around him, I know he’s going to have scratch marks down his back. I can’t help myself. “Yes, sweetheart, cum for daddy,” he growls. “Cum for me. Give me.. give me this…”
He sees my orgasm as a gift, it seems. As if it’s an honor I bestow on him. Crying out his name, I tumble over the edge, tightening around him. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t hesitate. He keeps on, moaning and cursing in Spanish. Every spasm of mine draws more of those delicious sounds. Swearing once more, I feel his hips stutter, the muscles in his body twitching. “I can’t… oh sweetheart…” He kisses me almost desperately as I finally feel him come apart, his release spilling into me.
We gasp for breath, heartbeats syncing as we settle. Lifting his head, he smiles at me, that same cheeky smile that practically started all this. “My girl,” he sighs. “You’re really amazing. I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you, baby. I’ll spend my life making it up to you.”
“I was trying to hide it from you,” I answer. “So I wasn’t much better.” His hand comes down on my rear, lightly spanking me.
“I know you, baby girl. I know you need to feel safe. It needed to be this way. You needed to know that I would be here. And now you know.” Giving me one more soft kiss, he maneuvers our bodies until we are under the blankets and I’m resting on his chest. “Rest sweetheart. You need your rest for what I have planned for you.” His grin turns naughty. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
In response I start grinding on his thigh, a fantasy of mine for too long. From the look in his eyes, he’s had the same wish. He gives me one more sweet kiss before taking hold of my hips. I can tell we won’t be sleeping much tonight.
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“So, I meet this wonderful lady. Just fantastic, my heart does that thing where it’s skipping beats, and I - all of you think I’m going to talk about how I suavely asked her out, and that is not what happened.
“I ride up in my chariot, and the first - this is literally the first thing I say to her is ‘do you want to meet my dog’?
“And this - I - this is a sign that this woman is my soul mate - she looks at her friends hanging around and says, ‘sure, catch you later, guys’.
“I’m going to skip forward here a couple of dates - no, don’t - this is not the story of how my wife met my dog - and her mom - her mom - finds out she’s seeing me. Now I know everyone jokes about how a girl’s dad is this big, hulking - going to hunt you down if you’re dating his daughter and he doesn’t like you. But if you say that, it’s because you’ve never had some girl’s mom glaring up at you from like - her mom’s like two inches taller than her, so this little furious glare from around my chin area, saying her daughter’s not allowed to come see me anymore.
“And this - okay, this is when I knew I was going to marry this girl, she looks at her mom and, cool as anything, says, ‘Too late, mom. I met his dog, ate dinner over here. I’m staying’.”
god im just thinking about how much going to public school in the MCU would’ve made me hate captain america. every time i got caught giving some bitch the finger or writing on bathroom walls or ditching class or stealing books from the library cause i got a fine or what have you, and then they gave me lunch detention or ISS and i sat in that dumbass eraser-smelling room and im in My Chair (the chair i always sit in and yell at anyone else who tries to take it), fuming, arms crossed, full of teen angst and hating everyone around me, and AGAIN had to watch this stupid fucking video ive already seen so many times that i know it by heart and every word grates on my eardrums and i’d just see this fuckin familiar face
god imagine Steve giving Peter his Captain America is Disappointed in You face/lecture over something dumb and Peter just fucking dissociating and zoning back in to “Peter! Are you even listening to me???” and looking him in the eye and being like “I’m completely immune at this point. You can’t even touch me.” and walking the fuck away
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It’s been nearly three years since MJ Part 2, and I’m still not over how poorly-handled the Everlark is. I’d forgotten that they changed the line from, “Protect each other,” to “Keep each other alive.” Just, why? What was the point in that change? And during the mutt attack in the sewer, Peeta is supposed to be the one who makes Katniss climb the latter, thereby saving her while fighting off one of his episodes.
It’s too bad, because I actually really like the parts that are commentary about inhumanity in oppressive regimes, the realities of war, and the general inhumanity to mankind. But that was only part of what made this story so great.
Oohh, and don’t get me started on how they had Buttercup show up in Twelve before Peeta! 😣😣😣. I’ll never understand why they did that. It wasn’t the cat that brought Katniss back to life, it was Peeta!
Like, it’s super important to get the detail of Buttercup’s coat right, but it’s nbd to change things like the ‘we protect each other’ line, and changing their children in the epilogue. Obviously Buttercup is more important to the story and it’s themes than Everlark was. 🙄
I wish they’d remake the movies and actually read the books before starting to plan out the movie. At times it felt like they were based on a detailed summary someone excitedly told them after a bottle of wine one night.
Is it too soon for a reboot?
There’s a tenderness between my legs when I wake. It’s almost unfamiliar. As I open my eyes and take in my surroundings, it comes roaring back into my mind. The whistling coming from the bathroom where Negan is clearly showering helps remind me of where I am, what I’ve done… who I’ve done. My cheeks burn when I look over my body and see teeth marks. He likes to mark what’s his, I suppose. The soreness and bruises only enhance the shame I feel from how much I actually enjoyed all this.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of a low chuckle coming from the doorway. Looking up, I can’t help pulling the sheets over my body as Negan stands there, leaning against the doorway with a towel slung low over his hips.
“Well, good morning little one,” he purrs, stepping closer. I can’t help but appreciate the view. His skin glistens with beads of water, and the scent of soap wafts over me. “How are ya? You were sleepin’ real hard there.” One hand comes up to trace a particular mark left by his lips. “Suppose I wore ya out, huh?” I nod in response, causing his face to darken. “I expect you to speak when I ask you a question, little one.”
“Yes, yes I slept well,” I answer quietly. His mercurial temper fades just as quickly. Seeing his smile causes so many varying emotions in me. He is attractive, that can’t be denied. But the cold and calculating leader will also not be ignored.
“I’ve got to go handle some things around here today,” he tells me, dropping the towel carelessly. I ogle him without shame while he speaks. “I’ll be havin’ someone bring up some breakfast for ya. Clothes are over there. You get to stay in here with me for a few more days, little one. I’m not near done with you yet, sweetheart.” He slips on his jacket, grabs that bat, then turns toward me. Stalking closer, he grips my chin in his hand, lifting so that my lips meet his roughly. “Now when you get dressed, don’t get too attached to those clothes. I expect to rip them off quick when I get back.”
He leaves, and I fall back against the pillows. My brain feels fuzzy trying to organize my thoughts, trying to understand what’s happened. Ever since the outbreak, I had known there was no sense in hoping for normalcy ever again. Even if I managed to survive, I knew life would never be the same. But this life was not anything close to what I thought would come.
There’s no robe I can slip into, so I have to rush nude toward the wardrobe he had indicated. Quickly I pull on a dress that clings to my body, then manage to find underwear that isn’t screaming sex. I’m just in time. There’s a knock on the door. “Come in.”
A man with dark hair comes in, eyes never meeting mine. “Good morning, ma’am. I hope you have rested comfortably. I was tasked with bringing you your breakfast.” The accent and cadence of his speech gives away that this is a man who works hard to convince others he is more educated and high brow than he actually is. The mullet he wears doesn’t help his charade.
“Thank you.” He sets it down and leaves immediately, seeming almost afraid of me. Maybe he’s afraid of Negan and appearing like he’s longing for what belongs to his boss. That thought causes my stomach to sink. Already I think of myself as his. What have I done?
After I eat, I realize I’ve got to occupy myself somehow till he comes back. Although he didn’t specifically command me to stay put, I understood his meaning. I busy myself with making the bed and folding the clothes he pulled off of me the night before. There’s probably some protocol he has in place for this, but no one has told me. Doing this helps calm me somewhat. It feels mundane, it feels normal. Normal is in short supply these days, so I’ll take it. After this is done, I go and examine the variety of books on display on the large shelf. The fact that there are so many books is a bit surprising. I can’t tell at this point if they were well worn before being placed in here, or if Negan is a reader. Either way, books are a comfort, and I’ll take what I can get at this point. I see a classic, ‘Gone With the Wind’, and I smile as I take that to the sofa. Getting swept away in the Old South is just what I need right now.
Evidently getting swept away is exactly what happens. The door shutting pulls me into the present. I look up and see that the sunlight is fading, and the man himself, Negan, has just walked into the room. “There’s my little one,” he calls out. Setting that bat down, he strips off his jacket and lays it on the chair before coming towards me. He reaches for my hand and pulls me to stand up. “I’ve been thinking about you and that sweet little pussy of yours all day.”
His words make me turn red and hot. I remember all too well how he enjoyed using his mouth on me the night before. This man has a talented and wicked tongue. He grins, clearly seeing my embarrassment at the memory. “That’s right, little one. You got me all hot and bothered, and I’m gonna need you to help me out with this situation.” He pulls me close, and I can feel how hard he is.
“Have you been that hard all day?” The question comes out sounding almost flirtatious, shocking me. But clearly he’s pleased by my even attempting repartee.
“Oh if you only knew, little one,” he chuckles. “Had to go scare a particularly stubborn little prick who likes to act up. I had to stand there and not think about your screams when I’m pounding into you. I’ve been needing to remind myself of how you feel.” He pulls me toward the bed with determination. “And I did promise that I’d be rippin’ your clothes off as soon as I got back. And you will learn that I am most certainly a man of my word.”
The dress is yanked over my head, and he studies my choice of underwear. Trying to find something that was more for comfort than sex appeal had been difficult, and I had finally settled on a simple blue thong. Very little lace, not see through or anything, just basic. Still he stared like he was mesmerized. “Cute,” he finally whispered before dragging the fabric down. “There, that’s what I’ve been hungry for.” Without warning he spins me and pushes me onto the bed, spreading my legs just before his mouth lands on me.
I can’t help moaning almost immediately. Talented and wicked. He knows just how to use it. He teases me, almost letting me fall over the edge of pleasure before pulling back. When I try to muffle my screams, he lifts his head, glaring at me. “Don’t you dare,” he growls. “I want everyone to hear you. Don’t you dare.” His head lowers again, and I scream. I’m so close, so very close. Pushing my legs apart, he buries his face, working his tongue faster and deeper, and I lose all control. My body thrashes and flails as I cum.
He begins kissing up my body before latching onto my neck. “That’s my girl,” he crooned. “You scream so pretty for me now, don’t ya? Ya like that?”
“Yes, yes,” I manage to gasp. His voice makes me shudder. When two of his fingers slip into me, I whine, lifting my hips. “Please… please I like… I want…”
“You want?” He sounds surprised and yet like he already knows what to do to break me. “Tell me what you want, little one. Let daddy take care of you, Queen of mine.” His fingers twist and thrust, making me scream out in delight. Before I can finish, he pulls back, aborting my release. I’m about to protest when he holds one hand up. “Shh, let me undress, little one. Then I’m gonna pound you into that mattress.”
I watch as he strips. The tattoos on his body almost make me want to drool and whimper. I know he can see the appreciation in my gaze. He climbs over me again as soon as he’s naked, and I can’t help enjoying smoothing my hands over his skin. And it seems that he also enjoys feeling this. He growls quietly as he slips into my wet heat. My nails dig into his skin as I cry out.
“Yeah, yeah baby girl,” he hisses. “That’s right. Who do you belong to?”
“You,” I moan. “Oh god, you Negan. I’m yours Negan.”
If he was keeping any control over himself, those words clearly broke it. Another growl echoes in my ear as his hips begin snapping roughly against mine. “Say it again,” he commands. “Who do you belong to, little one?”
“I belong to you! I belong to you Negan!” I’m close, so very close. Before now I had always wondered what it might be like to be taken roughly, to be owned in such a manner. Now I’m well aware, and know I could never go back. “Please! Oh god I belong to you!”
His teeth break the skin on my shoulder as he pistons harder. Then he looks at me, eyes dark with pure lust. “Come for me now, little one,” he orders.
Something in me shatters. Lights flash in my view as I scream. I can’t help clawing at his arms as I buck wildly, tightened around him. He continues moving, drawing more screams from me. I don’t know how long it takes, but finally I hear him grunt and roar, feeling him fill me.
My body shudders under his as I try to open my eyes. There’s something in his gaze that catches me by surprise. I don’t know if this man can love someone. I don’t know much of anything about him. But I do know that right now, he’s fond of me. And right now, that thought pushes away the shame I’ve been feeling when alone and considering my new life.
“You are a little tiger, aren’t ya?” His voice is a bit rough when he asks this. “I like seein’ you come undone for me, little one. I’m gonna hafta keep you close, I think. You and me can have some fun.” He makes sure I, looking him in the eyes as he purrs once more “Who do you belong to?”
“I belong to Negan,” I answer immediately. My response is rewarded by feeling him throb deep inside me.
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