Spider-Starry's NSFW Blog

You roll over to face him, “mm-mm,” your eyes land on his lips, “was actually thinking you could be rougher…” His breath hitches and his brows raise, “oh yeah? Is that what you want, sweetheart?” 

You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip, finally making eye contact with him. “I like when you take charge, makes me feel.. I don’t know, floaty.”

“Floaty?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah, like I don’t have to worry about thinking, you always know what I need.” Your smile is shy, peering up at him from under your lashes. He melts a little, fondness settling over his features. “Is that what you need, baby?” It comes out as a whisper, notes of desire tinting his voice. You nod and lean up, kissing him needily, letting him feel how much you want him. 

He meets your lips happily, threading a hand through your hair to tilt your head just right. He keeps the pace slow, basking in the feel of your body against his, free hand skimming up your side teasingly. He presses forward, rolling you to your back, forearm caging your head in. When he finally slips his tongue into your mouth, it draws a moan from both of you. 

He dominates the kiss, drawing every movement out, letting you feel everything he could give you. Your hands find his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his back. He groans at that and pulls away. The way your arms press your breasts together frames that damn necklace and he can’t look away. Warm lips slide down your throat, small licks and light suction over the dip of your collarbone have you squirming. “Keep your hands on me,” he murmurs against your skin.

He catches the blue stone hanging from the chain with his teeth, tugging once before he drops it in favor of working across your breasts. He’s still going so slowly, you feel a heated flush over your whole body, soaking in the attention he so willingly gives every inch of you. When he licks a nipple into his mouth, biting gently before flicking his tongue over it, you can’t help the needy whine that rips from your throat. 

“You know, every time I think I have you figured out, you throw a curveball,” he’s talking around the bud still in his mouth. “I have layers,” you answer breathlessly. “Like an onion?” He lifts his head with a smile. “Like an onion,” you laugh. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I want now, or do you want me to just do it?” His pupils are blown, tongue sliding out to wet his lips. You consider it for a second, then ruffle his hair and whisper, “tell me?” He drops a kiss to your chest, your neck, the blue stone shining on your skin. “I want you to come on my fingers first,” he keeps his head down, like he’s fighting back his own embarrassment. “Then I want you to ride me while I play with these perfect tits.” He thumbs a nipple when he says it, just to prove his point. 

Your moan is answer enough for him, he slides a hand down to cup your core, fingers spreading you open with learned precision. He keeps up his sweet attention on your neck and chest, reveling in every hitched breath and quiet gasp he pulls from you. His fingers dip into your wet heat for just a moment, then he drags his hand up to his mouth. His tongue darts out to taste, a groan escaping around the intrusion. That hand drops back to your folds while he leans up to kiss you properly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

Your hand tightens in his hair, pulling just a little, and he circles your clit with two fingers. It makes you gasp into his mouth and he drinks it down, mumbling, “you always taste so good, baby. Drives me crazy.” He adds more pressure to his fingers, feeling how your hips roll against his palm. 

He switches between playing in your wetness and rubbing your clit, working you towards the edge slowly. Your hands find purchase on his back again, the grip giving you enough leverage to really ride his fingers. He groans into your mouth, “that’s it, get what you need. Use my fingers, sweetheart.” 

The coil building in your stomach snaps, your body jerking and arms tightening around him. He praises you through it, picking up speed where you lose it. “So fuckin’ sexy when you come like that, love feeling you fall apart for me.” He presses sweet kisses to your lips and jaw, wet fingers coming up to tweak your nipple playfully. It makes you jump and he smiles against your skin. 

You wrap your legs around his middle and twist, flipping him to his back. He lands with a surprised noise, hands gripping your hips. You feel his hard length under you, grind your hips just right to pull another gasp from him. “God, you’re a sight,” he breathes. And you are, cheeks flushed, hair wild, naked body perched on top of him - it’s all he can do not to blow his load right there. 

Your hand skims down his stomach, landing right where he wanted you most. You give him a few pumps, watching how his breathing goes ragged, his chest heaving and eyes locked on where you’re touching him. You lift your hips and look to him for approval. His voice is rough when he finds it, “go ahead baby, take all of it.” And you do. 

You lower yourself down, taking him to the hilt in one go. The movement pulls moans from both of you, his hands flying to your ass and yours falling to his chest. “Holy shit, baby, yes.” His head falls back, you take that as your cue to move. A roll of your hips makes him squeeze his fingers, pressing into your supple flesh like he owns it. The first bounce brings his attention back to you, eyes watching your face before the silver necklace catches his eye. Every time you drop down on him, the blue stone shimmers in the light. He uses one hand to press against your back, bringing your chest close to his face. 

The pendant hits his chin and you finally realize what he’s looking at. He plants his feet and thrusts up into you, both hands back on your ass to control your movements. It feels incredible. He forces you down on his cock, sticking his tongue out to catch the stone. He pulls it into his mouth and leans his head back, forcing you closer to him. It’s almost feral, the way he’s rutting into you and whining around the necklace. 

You do your best to keep up with his manic thrusts, eventually settling on holding his shoulders and doing what you can to keep your balance. You lift up and the pendant falls from his lips, he watches it for a moment before he grabs it gently, a stark contrast to the rest of his movements. “Open up, baby,” he commands softly. You don’t even think before dropping your mouth open, watching as he slips the necklace between your lips. He closes your mouth and pulls you down for a kiss, tongue darting out to trace the warm metal. 

It’s so hot you forget that you’re supposed to be moving your hips, but he picks up your slack easily, amusement glimmering in his eyes when he pulls away from your lips. You can’t help how hard you clench down on him, your moans increasing in pitch. “You close? Gonna come for me?” He’s watching your face so intensely, deciding now was the time to slide a hand between you to rub quick circles on your clit. His other hand lands a sharp slap to your ass, gripping hard enough to leave fingerprints. 

It doesn’t just throw you over the edge, you feel like you’re falling from a cliff. You shudder and moan, throwing your head back. The heat feels all-encompassing, your arms giving out at the apex of your orgasm. He catches you easily, thrusting a few more times before he stills, a broken whimper falling from his lips. He’s shaking under you, trembling limbs hitting the mattress as a quiet moan breaks in his chest.

He holds you for a few minutes, gentle hands stroking heated skin, massaging tired thighs and skimming along your spine. When you have a handle on your breathing, you crane your head up with a smirk, “the necklace really does it for you, huh?” He goes beet red, hand flying to cover his face with a groan. 

“I told you last night,” he stifles a laugh, “I like that it’s from me.” You pull his hand away and press a sweet kiss to his lips. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.” He huffs a breath and you lay your head back down against his chest. 

“You came so hard, is all I’m saying,” you smirk into his skin. 

“Oh god,” and he throws his hand back over his face.

------------------------

Ryland turns when he feels the weight of your gaze prickling at the skin between his shoulderblades and scalp. Your head is tilted a little bit, a smile on your face as you watch Ryland move toward you.

He barely murmurs a small “hi” before he’s got his lips on yours, feeling the rushing blood under his fingertips as he brings his hands to your waist. Slipping his hands under your shirt, Ryland feels the warmth radiating through your lower back and feels a pulsing in his own body. Feeling you, here and now, hot and loving him was just… an answer to a prayer he’d forgotten he’d asked for.

You do that thing where you press your front to his after your pointer finger sloooowwwly pulls him closer to you by his belt loop, and damn is Ryland a goner. You groan a little into Ryland’s mouth when he pulls you up and towards him: the sheer tangibility of his want only adding to the lust in your mind. You feel the little spikes of his hair as you slowly bring your hands up to the nape of his neck to feel him and then the smoothness of his skin as you bring your hands to his face in any attempt to mold you two impossibly closer.

Only when you start to feel your head physically weigh heavier and when you hear the loud whooshing of your blood behind your ears do you force yourself away. Panting, you see Ryland’s eyebrows screwed up. He whines and rests his forhead on your chest: how could you be so cruel as to pull away from him? Ugh. “I’m hard,” he whispers.

You chuckle breathlessly. “What’d you say?”

Ryland looks up: the epitome of want and desire and undercover eroticism. “I’m fucking hard.” His hand reaches for yours and he palms the back of your hand. Eyes locked on yours as he brings your hand to the crotch of his pants to make you feel just what you do to him. The way his throat vibrates with a barely withheld whimper when you palm him makes you want to drop his pants right then and there. “Y/n.”

An evil glint is in your eyes. “I love when this happens.”

Ryland groans, this time from embarrassment. “I love that you love it but I- it happens so often.”