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"Pissed" wasn't even the word. 

In fact, he was beyond that; he was furious. He was furious at the fact that you wouldn't tell him about something like this, furious at the fact that now the world had seen your naked body.

He sat quietly in the back of the car, arms folded to his chest as his hand grasped the paper, gripping so hard that his fingers began to hurt, and his heart raced as he took a deep breath to get his feelings in check. He didn't want to yell at you. Truth be told, he didn't even want to argue about this, but thinking of you keeping this a secret and now everyone seen it made his blood boil as his fist clenched onto that paper with pure anger. 

The sound of the front door snapped you out of your daze. Your teeth stopped nibbling on your manicured nails, and your stomach did at least three more flips and not in a good way, and your palms seemed to constantly sweat from the uneasiness that settled in your body as you nervously bounced your leg. It felt as though the bedroom was too hot; despite hearing the AC running throughout the house, it never seemed to cool the room. 

His shoes clicked against the smooth marble of the floor as he made his way towards the stairs. It was the calmness in his steps that made everything seem more eerie because deep down you knew he was angry. Michael was never one to raise his voice when he got upset. Instead, his anger seemed to show more through the calmness in his voice, the way his tone carried that hint of anger, or the way his facial expressions told it all. 

The sound of the door creaking against the wooden frame as he pushed it open, revealing his large figure in the doorway.

“Michael—” 

“What is this?” The thick stack of paper slapped against the floor as it slid closer to you, making your eyes snap in the direction of it.

“Look, I forgot about it; it was so long ago. I'm sorry, Mikey." 

He wasn't necessarily upset at the fact that you had done the shoot; well, maybe he was, but more at the fact that it seemed like the whole world had seen it and now all eyes were on you. 

“Do y’know how many people probably have this picture saved, lookin at every inch of your body?” he started, his tone completely fading from the soft tone and signature smile he usually used to a tone that was stern, like he was giving you a good talking to. "Are all the people now looking at me to do something, say anything about this? The filthy guys are probably drooling over this."

“I know, I know, my team is already working on releasing a statement. " You stood up in an attempt to soothe the situation, but Michael wasn't having it. 

"Sit" That one word was enough to make your whole body go cold as you quietly obeyed, your eyes falling over his large frame, the way his fists were clenched in a tight ball, the way there was the slight movement of his jaw because he was pressing his teeth together so tightly. 

“On the floor, on your knees." 

You obeyed. I mean, what else were you supposed to do? You knew exactly what was coming and knew exactly what kind of treatment you’d be getting tonight. You watched as he loosened the belt that had been constricting him all day, finally unbuttoning his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing throughout the room as he tugged them down, finally taking a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. 

"You know what to do, right? Show me how sorry you are." His hand ran from the top of your head down to the soft skin of your jaw, tilting your head upwards to face him. 

"Mhm, I know, Mikey. Let me show you I'm sorry," you cooed, finally taking the opportunity to let your hand run up and down his cock in a slow, almost soothing motion, earning a sigh that slipped past his lips before you pressed a kiss to his tip, your tongue slipping out to lick the slit that dripped with precum before letting your lips form that familiar “o” shape, taking as much length as possible, using your hand to stroke what you couldn't fit. 

A groan trickled out from his throat as he let his fingers tangle in between your strands, letting his hand gently guide your head. The feeling of your mouth wrapped around him and the suction from your mouth paired with the way you swirled your tongue made his hips instinctively buck upwards, hitting that sweet spot in the back of your throat that created the lewd sound of gagging.

“That’s it, take it." His voice was stern, sending a cold shiver down your body as you let your head dip down again, the spit that pooled at the corners of your mouth dribbling down his length, making him toss his head back as you attempted to take him deeper, your hands stroking the rest, your eyes looking up at his facial expressions, fluttering lashes, and brows knitted tightly. That look when you're too far gone in bliss that the only thing you can think about is the intense feeling you're receiving.

“That’s enough." His words stopped you in your tracks, pulling away with a gentle pop.

He laid you down on your back, clothes scattered in a pile with his own, legs spread so that he could see that perfect core that sat untouched and leaking just for him, and despite the fact that millions of people had seen your bare body, he knew he was the only one who'd get to really feel you, feel your gummy walls flutter against him, and feel the warmth from your body; the thought of it made him groan as he gripped tightly onto your hips like it was the last thing he'd be able to feel, lining his tip with your entrance and sliding it in. 

His pace didn't start off slow; it was brutal, anger leaking out in the form of his thrusts. 

“Mikey, s-slow down, it's too much," you babble, your voice shaking from the sheer force of each thrust that made your tits bounce and your head fly back into the pillows as your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, a sting of pain shooting through it from how hard you were biting down.

“You got it, baby. Take this dick." He was breathless, heavy breathing mixed with the sound of skin slapping and sex filling the room as he leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your neck that contradicted the way he was thrusting into you. Your whines sounded like sweet music to his ears as the feeling of your walls sucking him in and the warmth made him moan against the damp skin of your neck.

"Fuck—I'm sorry," you cried out, feeling his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot as you let your fingernails dig into his back, earning a wince from Michael, but considering the circumstances he was under, he didn't really care; it only seemed to add to the intense feelings that were shooting through his body. 

“I know, baby, it’s okay," he cooed, his thrusts becoming sloppier and a huge contrast from brutal, yet controlled thrusts, a telltale sign that he was on the verge of release, basking in the feeling of your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers that dug into his back, creating that familiar stinging sensation, and your sweet moans that rang out, falling onto what seemed like deaf ears.

"Gonna cum," you whined, back arching off the mattress, the thin layer of sweat that veiled over your body now mixed in with Michael's own as your body convulsed in waves of pure pleasure. His hips bucked into you as his mouth fell open, giving you another sloppy thrust.

"That's it, so good," he whispered, kissing your collarbone, the warmth from his breath only making your skin feel hotter and sticky, and for a moment, the room fell into this kind of rhythmic silence, light sounds of heavy breathing as you tried to collect yourself. 

“Are you still mad at me?” you whispered through heavy breaths. 

“I was never mad at you," he started, his fingers brushing the skin of your cheek. “I was more mad at the fact that so many people had seen it." His eyes darted away. 

“Only one man has me though."

©angelfacediary

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