Can be read as a standalone but is a follow up to this Kinktober prompt requested by like 500 of you
You’re already spread wide for Price, back arching off his mattress, the world narrowed down to the drag of his cock and the way he’s watching you: hungry, so fucking smug, every thrust designed to wring out another ruined little gasp.
You’re muscles tremble, every nerve ending lit up, mouth open but nothing- nothing- comes out but soft, fractured little sounds: whimpers, whines, helpless gasps.
Price has you pinned, one broad hand pressed against the mattress beside your head, the other wrapped tight around your thigh, holding you wide for him, keeping you exactly where he wants you.
You’ve lost track of how long he’s been at it. Sweat slicks your skin, thighs trembling, voice gone to nothing but helpless, shivering whimpers, each sound ripped raw by the slow, careful way he works you open. Price’s hands are everywhere, palms big and warm, holding you in place, never letting you get away.
His cock fills you so deep it aches, every thrust calculated to hit the spot that makes you cry out, every grind of his hips designed to unravel another little sob.
But you can’t talk- can’t- not even when you try, not even when you claw at his shoulder or paw at his chest, searching for some anchor as he rocks into you.
“Thought you’d have something to say by now,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, words brushing your ear like a secret. “Months of you making me crazy, running that clever mouth, now look at you. Can’t even string two syllables together, can you?”
You try- God, you try- but your throat is tight, lungs burning, the only answer a shuddering whimper that Price drinks down like a victory. He leans up, slowing just enough to make you ache, watching the way your jaw trembles, your eyes glaze.
“C’mon, love,” he coaxes, thumb stroking your cheek, tone gone honey sweet and taunting all at once. “Give me one of those smart little lines. Anything. Tell me how good it feel, hm?”
His thumb drags down your cheek, gentle, taunting. “Cat got your tongue?” he croons, grin wicked and proud. “Or am I just fucking you that good?”
You gasp, mouth open, but all that comes out is a keening sound, high and broken. You can feel your cunt clench around him, body betraying you, so desperate, so needy you can barely breathe.
He loves it. You can see it in his eyes dark and hungry as they flicker over your ruined face.
He laughs, deep in his chest, pride and affection in every syllable.
“That’s all I get? All that talk for months, and now it’s just these pretty little noises?”
He draws back, almost all the way, until you keen desperate, needy, and ruined and then he snaps his hips forward again, harder, cock punching deep making you arch and gasp. “Not even a ‘please’? Not even a ‘John’? S’that what it is, got you so dumb you can’t say my name?”
He keeps his pace lazy, hips rolling, giving you just enough to keep you on the edge, never letting you tip over. His hand slides between your bodies, fingers circling your clit, slow and light, sending sparks through your belly.
“Gonna try again for me, love?” he whispers, breath hot against your cheek. “Wanna hear you. C’mon, use that clever tongue for something other than whining.”
He shifts, adjusting your hips, angling deeper, rolling his pelvis just right, so his cock hits that spot that makes your back bows, nails digging crescent moons into his arms, but the only things you can offer are shattered sobs, wordless and raw.
“That’s it,” he coos. “That’s my good girl. All those words gone, just feeling for me now. Think I could get used to you like this.”
He rubs a little harder, pinching just so, and your thighs tightening around his hips. A strangled moan tears out of you; louder, wetter, your body shaking.
He licks up your neck, sucking a bruise beneath your ear, voice going low and rough. “Still nothing?” he goads, smug and delighted. “Not even a smart arse comeback for your captain? You always had one of those ready.”
You shake your head, biting your lip, eyes rolling, the pleasure cresting too high for anything but desperate little cries.
He coaxes you, unhurried, every movement meant to push you further, keep you locked in that sweet, silent haze.
“Go on,” he urges, fingers moving faster now, cock pistoning into you, deep and punishing. “Give me a word, sweetheart. Just a little ‘yes’, just let me hear it.”
You try, you really do, but all that breaks from you is a hiccup, a sob, your mouth opening and closing with nothing but wrecked, wordless pleasure. You’re gone, undone, nothing but nerves and need.
He leans down, nips your jaw, then kisses the corner of your mouth, gentle in contrast to the rough way he fucks you.
“Love when you go all dumb for me. Can feel you squeezing me so tight- God, you’re perfect. My good girl, yeah? You’re my good girl, even when you can’t speak?”
You choke on a cry, nodding desperately, and he groans, cock twitching inside you.
He holds your face, thumb brushing tears from your cheek, gaze melting a little, pride and fondness mingled in the soft, ruined smile he gives you.
“Alright, love,” he murmurs, thrusts turning ragged, “you don’t have to say anything. Just come for me. Want to hear all those sweet little noises, just for me, yeah?”
Your climax hits sharp and sudden, a white hot burst that rips the breath from your lungs, mouth open in a soundless scream before it finally breaks in a ragged, stuttering moan, Price’s name torn from your throat.
He groans, undone by the way you shatter for him, and follows you over, hips stuttering, filling you with a shuddering growl and your name on his lips. He doesn’t move for a long moment, just breathing hard against your shoulder, his hand stroking your hair, gentle now.
When you come down, he’s still there, hands gentling, mouth at your temple, voice warm and smug and impossibly tender.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, brushing the hair from your face, thumb gentle on your cheek. “Didn’t get a single word out of you. Might make a habit of that, yeah?”
You try to muster a glare, but you’re too spent, too blissed out. He just laughs, pressing another kiss to your lips, proud and smug.
“Don’t worry, love,” he says, voice a velvet promise as he draws his hips back and begins to rock into you again, already ready for the next round. “You can have all your words back in the morning. For now… just let me hear you.”
