His gaze drags over her as she giggles at something stupid on screen, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt (his shirt that she stole out of his closet). She’s so soft like this. So trusting. So easy.

“You’re so cute when you’re tipsy,” he murmurs, lips curling into something darkly sweet, tender and predatory. His fingers brush her knee, skimming upward, just enough to tease.

She blinks up at him, slow, doe-eyed. “Mm… I‘m fine, I’m not tipsy,” she murmurs, resting her head against his shoulder.

He exhales a quiet, amused breath. Let’s see about that.

“Here, baby,” he says, reaching for the drink he’d mixed earlier. Straight vodka masked beneath fruit juice, something far too strong for her but that doesn’t stop him.

She pouts playfully but takes it, swallowing obediently. He watches her throat work, the way her lips glisten when she pulls the glass away, her lashes fluttering as the burn hits her.

“Oh—” A little cough, a shake of her head. “That’s strong.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, fingers slipping into her hair to tilt her face up. “You can handle it, can’t you, sweet thing?”

She pouts a little, nodding, already swimming in the haze.

By the time the glass is empty, her body is loose, her words stumbling into nonsense. His fingers trail lazily down her bare arm, tracing phantom patterns against her flushed skin. She shifts on the couch, her movements sluggish, her eyelids heavy. The room sways slightly in her vision, and she blinks up at him with a pout that only makes his grin widen.

"I-I think I’m done," she slurs, pushing the fresh drink he’d offered her away weakly. "I’m dizzy."

He tsks, catching the glass before it topples, his other hand cupping her chin, tilting her face up. "Aw, baby, don’t be like that," he murmurs, thumb brushing her lower lip. "Just one more. For me?"

She whines, barely shaking her head, but he’s already pressing the rim to her lips. The sharp scent of liquor hits her nose, and she turns her face away with a whimper. "Nooo."

"Come on, angel," he coos, leaning in, his breath warm against her ear. "You know you love how it makes you feel. All warm and tingly, right? So good for me." His free hand finds her thigh, fingers kneading gently, possessive.

She makes a feeble attempt to push his hand away, but her limbs feel like cotton. "I-I don’t want…"

"Shhh," he soothes, lips grazing her temple. "Just trust me, okay? I take such good care of you, you know I do."

She hesitates, and he takes the moment to press the glass back to her lips, tipping it. She coughs as the burn hits her throat, some of the liquor escaping the corner of her mouth and dribbling down her chin. He chuckles, swiping the liquid away with his thumb, then bringing it to his own lips to lick it clean.

"Mmm. Messy girl," he teases, eyes dark. "But that’s okay. I know how to make sure you don’t make a bigger mess."

Before she can react, he takes a deep sip himself, then leans in, sealing his mouth over hers. She gasps, half protest, half surprise, but he doesn’t stop, his tongue pressing forward, the liquor flooding her mouth. She tries to turn her head, but his grip tightens in her hair, holding her still as he makes her swallow, the alcohol burning all the way down.

When he finally pulls away, she’s panting, face flushed, lips wet and swollen.

"Good girl," he purrs, kissing the corner of her mouth, his fingers trailing down her throat. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

She whimpers, fingers weakly clutching at his shirt, knowing she’s slipping further into the drunken haze but unable to stop it.

"All warm and sweet for me," he purrs. "Just feel good for me, baby."

Her little intake of breath is shaky as his fingertips drift over her shirt, skimming the underside of her breast.

"N-no," she stammers, squirming weakly, her hands lifting, half to push him away, half just to hold onto something. "I’m too… too tipsy."

"Mm, I know," he agrees, but his fingers don’t stop. They just press a little firmer, dragging over the thin fabric of her shirt, teasing the sensitive curve of her nipple. "That’s why I’m taking care of you, sweetheart. Don’t need to think. Just let me make you feel good."

She whimpers, her lashes fluttering as he nuzzles into the crook of her neck, kissing the fluttering pulse he finds there.

"Shh," he soothes, biting gently at her earlobe. "You like this, don’t you?"

His lips capture hers in a soft kiss and she whimpers against him, her head spinning as his tongue teases her own, slow and possessive. His hands, so big, so warm, slide up under her shirt, fingers tracing lazy circles on her waist. She feels hazy, her thoughts swimming in syrup, every touch sending little sparks through the fog of alcohol in her veins.

"Mmm, babe…" she slurs, blinking slowly, trying to focus on his face. His dark eyes watch her with hunger.

"Shhh, just feel me, baby," he murmurs, his breath hot against her cheek. "You're okay. I got you."

She mumbles a protest, "I-I don’t…"

He doesn’t let her finish. Instead, his mouth finds hers again, swallowing her words in a kiss. His free hand slides between her thighs, pressing softly, testing, making her squirm. "You’re so warm," he murmurs between kisses. "All soft and sweet for me."

His lips find the skin of her neck and her breath shudders as he presses fluttering kisses into her skin.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he breathes against her ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. “All helpless and dizzy. Can barely even sit up straight, huh?”

She whimpers as his fingers trace the hem of her panties.

“Babe…” Her voice is slow, weak with intoxication. “I don’t… I dunno if…”

He shushes her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Don’t think, baby. Just feel.”

“Mm… I think I’m too drunk,” she slurs, blinking up at him with glassy eyes.

He grins. “I think you’re adorable,” he murmurs, pulling her closer into his arms.

"You’re so beautiful when you’re drunk," he muses. "Your skin’s all warm. And your eyes… fuck, baby, they’re so pretty and lost."

"M’not lost," she mumbles, though she can barely focus on his face.

"No, no, you’re right," he purrs, running a hand along her thigh. "You’re here. You’re mine. Right where you belong."

She hums, legs shifting automatically, betraying the fact that even drugged with liquor, her body still knows what it wants.

“There you go, pretty girl.” His voice is syrup-sweet, mocking. “Look at you, so fucking obedient for me.”

Then his fingers slip under her panties.

She gasps, hips jerking as he strokes her soft folds. “Oh—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he coos, watching her face twist in dazed pleasure. “So sensitive already.”

He rubs slow circles around her clit, just enough to make her hips rock into his hand.

She whimpers, head lolling, fingers clutching uselessly at the couch as he works her clit in slow, torturous strokes.

"Even drunk, you’re still such a good girl for me."

His fingers push inside her, curling just right. She gasps, her back arching, legs trembling. "Babe," she whimpers.

"I know, I know," he croons. "You don’t even know what you want. But I do."

Her hands reach out to grip his forearm, too weak to stop him, just clutching him desperately.

“Gonna make you cum like this,” he promises. “Just my fingers. Maybe my mouth next. Would you like that, baby? Will you let me taste you?”

“Mm… sensitive,” she whines in protest, squirming but the haze of her intoxication makes her pliant.

“Yeah? Poor thing,” he murmurs, pressing harder against her clit.

Her moans are sweet and confused, little gasped cries that trail off into helpless noises as he fucks her with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit.

"That’s my girl," he coos, watching the way her entire body tenses, the way her eyelids flutter, her mouth falling open. "I knew you could take it. So perfect for me, letting me touch you like this."

Her voice is thready, half-lost in the buzz of alcohol. "Baby please… I don’t… too much… I can’t—"

"You can," he insists, curling his fingers just right, the heel of his palm pressing against her in slow, rhythmic circles. "Just let go."

And she does, her back arching, her thighs trembling, her mind too hazy to fight the pleasure he’s drawing from her in deep, shuddering waves. Her orgasm crashes into her, the sharp pleasure flooding her system making her shake, babbling whines of nonsense slipping out of her mouth as she clings to him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, fingers slowing as he works her through the pleasure. “We’re not done yet, angel. Let me taste you.”

She’s trembling as he drops to his knees in front of the couch and lowers his mouth to her, tongue dragging slow, filthy stripes through her swollen folds. He groans, arms hooking under her legs to pull her closer. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasps against her skin.

Her hips jerk when he sucks her clit between his lips, her moans high and broken. She tries to push at his head, whining, but he pins her down easily.

He hums against her, the vibration sending a fresh jolt straight to her core, and her legs twitch, trying to clamp shut around his head reflexively. But his hands are heavy on her thighs, holding her open easily, refusing to let her go.

"So sweet, my pretty angel," he murmurs, lifting just enough to speak, his breath hot on her soaked flesh. "Perfect. Perfect for me. Just let go, baby. Cum on my tongue for me, angel.”

She shakes her head weakly, but her body doesn't listen. The pleasure coils tighter, tighter, she shatters for him.

When he finally lifts his head, licking his lips, her eyes are glassy, her breathing shallow.

“Now,” he breathes, pulling his cock out with one hand, the other smoothing possessively over her thigh. “Be a good girl and take me.”

She whimpers as he pushes in, her body clamping down around him, tight and wet and his. He groans, hips rolling, watching the way her face twists in pleasure and confusion, her stupid, drunken little gasps filling the room.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he grits out, gripping her hips, fucking her slow and deep.

She whines, overstimulated and overwhelmed, and he kisses her, silencing her before groaning into her lips.

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight for me."

Her arms wrap around his neck instinctively, but she’s weak with drink and pleasure, and he fucks into her with slow, deep strokes, reveling in the way her voice breaks every time he rocks into her.

"You love me, don’t you?" he rasps, biting at her collarbone.

"Y-yes," she whimpers.

"That’s all that matters, pretty girl. That means I can do whatever I want with you, isn’t that right, baby?” His voice deepens as she clenches around his cock, letting him chase his own pleasure with her drunken body.

She mumbles her agreement, her soft sounds of acquisence punctuated by her moans.

“Yeah, there we go,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss her neck, biting lightly. “Just take it, baby. Take it all.”

She mewls, her cunt clenching around him every time he fucks deeper.

“Baby—I—I can’t, it’s too much—!” She whimpers, tears spilling as she trembles. He ignores her, gripping her tighter, chasing his own release.

“Yes, you can,” he growls. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna fill you up, just like you need.”

Her breath hitches, and he watches her sob out another weak moan, her body squeezing him tight.

With a groan, he buries himself deep and spills inside her, his hips jerking as he pulses, filling her up just like he promised.

She whimpers, overstimulated, her legs shaking, her head lolling to the side. He leans down, kissing her slack lips, licking into her mouth as his cock twitches inside her.

“Mine,” he whispers against her lips, fingers stroking her cheek. “All mine.”

His words hang in the space between them, her hands shaking and clutching onto him as if she can’t fathom letting go.

The room is quiet now, save for their mingled breathing. The frantic energy dulls into something slow and honeyed, his grip on her loosening as he presses a kiss to her damp forehead. She’s shaking beneath him, tiny, involuntary tremors, and he smoothes a hand down her side, savoring the warmth of her skin.

"Shh, it’s okay," he murmurs, voice impossibly soft. She makes a small noise, part whimper, part sigh, and he hushes her gently, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "You did so good for me. So perfect."

Her breath hitches, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she blinks up at him.

He shifts off of her slowly, careful not to jostle her too much. Her legs fall open limply, and he takes a moment just to look, his cum dripping out of her swollen cunt, her flushed skin, the tremble in her thighs, the way her chest rises in uneven little gasps. He brushes a strand of sweat-damp hair from her face and leans down to kiss her forehead again.

She comes back to herself in slow, dizzy waves, her body limp and warm and buzzing with fading pleasure. The first thing she notices is his arms wrapped around her, solid and possessive, holding her close against his chest. His heartbeat thrums steady beneath her ear.

"There you are," he murmurs, lips brushing her forehead. His voice is soft now, sweet. "How’re you feeling?"

"Mm… floaty," she mumbles, pressing her face into his shoulder. Her skin still tingles, her thighs sticky between them, her cunt still fluttering with aftershocks.

He chuckles low, one big hand sliding up her spine to tangle in her hair, scratching gently at her scalp. "Good. That’s good.” He shifts slightly, reaching over to grab the glass of water he’d left on the coffee table earlier.

"Here," he murmurs, tipping it against her lips. "Slow sips, baby."

She obeys without thinking, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. When she finishes, he sets the glass aside and cradles her face, brushing her hair back with his thumb.

"You did so good for me," he murmurs, pressing slow kisses along her temple, over her cheekbone, down to the corner of her mouth. "Perfect the whole time. Couldn’t have asked for better."

She exhales shakily, relaxing into his praise. The alcohol is still a heavy blanket over her thoughts, but it’s warm, safe.

"That’s it," he mutters against her skin. "Just let me take care of you."

She hums, eyelids heavy, and he adjusts them both until she’s curled up against him, draped in his warmth, his scent. One of his hands rubs slow, soothing circles on her lower back.

"I love you," he murmurs, lips catching on her swollen ones in a lazy, lingering kiss.

"Love you too," she sighs into his mouth, already half-asleep.

And he holds her tighter, pressing her into his grasp with all the possessive, reverent weight of a man who knows what’s his.