ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were a total bimbo, through and through. Obsessed with all things pink, leopard print, Victoria’s Secret and rhinestones, just to name a few, you embodied early 2000s glamour. Your nails were always long and acrylic, your hair always styled to perfection, and your outfits? Always tiny, always tight, and always revealing just enough to make people stare.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas Chavez and his wife Victoria were looking for a nanny—someone responsible, experienced, and reliable to care for their two young children, Alexander who was 4 and Madison, 3, while their acting schedules grew more demanding. You weren’t exactly what Victoria had in mind, but Nicholas? He thought you were perfect.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Your dad had sent you the job listing, urging you to try something new—and more importantly, to make some extra cash to fund your shopping addiction. “Just in case you finally suck me dry,” he had joked, handing you the ad. So, you figured, why not?
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. At the interview, Nicholas couldn't keep his eyes off you. You had shown up in a cropped pink Juicy Couture tracksuit, your glossy lips pursed as you answered every question flawlessly. Despite your bubbly, seemingly airheaded persona, you were well educated, experienced, and more than capable. But Victoria had hesitated. “Are we sure she's the right fit?” she had asked Nicholas once you left. “She's perfect,” Nicholas had said without hesitation.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. For the first few weeks, both Nicholas and Victoria stayed close, observing how you handled the children. To their surprise, you were incredible with them. You played with them for hours, read them bedtime stories in dramatic voices, sang their favorite songs, and even let Madison dress up in your clothes and heels.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Alexander was obsessed with you, almost as much as his father was. He clung to your side, mimicking your gestures, even staring at you with the same dreamy look Nicholas sometimes had when he thought no one was watching.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria, however, wasn’t blind. The first time she caught you gawking at Nicholas—jaw slack, eyes wide, practically drooling—she had snapped, “Nicholas, put on a shirt.” He had smirked but obeyed, tossing on a t-shirt like it was no big deal.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But when she wasn’t home? Nicholas walked around freely—shirtless, towel hanging low on his hips showing his V line after a shower, muscles still damp, chest defined despite being in his early 40s. You had nearly dropped Madison’s juice box one morning when he sauntered into the kitchen like that.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Oh my god,” you whispered, biting your glossy lip. He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Something wrong?”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Nuh-uh,” you said, twirling a strand of hair. “Just, like—wow.”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas was absolutely whipped. He couldn’t stop staring at you—at the way your little tops always had your bra peeking out, at the way your crop tops rode up to expose your belly button ring, and the tramp stamp paired with your Victoria Secret thongs that occasionally flashed when you bent over.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were flirty, playful, always giggling and touching his arm when you talked. “Mr. Chavez, you’re sooo strong,” you gushed once, pressing a manicured hand against his bicep. He swallowed hard, flexing slightly under your touch. “You think so?”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Mhmm,” you nodded, lips pursed. “Like, if I ever fainted, would you catch me?”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “I’d make sure you never hit the ground,” he said, voice low.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria didn’t like how much time Nicholas spent around you. She wasn’t outright rude, but she was, watching. And you knew it.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But Nicholas? He didn’t even try to hide how much he enjoyed your presence. He lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary when you were making breakfast. He always made sure to say goodnight when you put the kids to bed. And sometimes—just sometimes—when you walked past him in your skimpy outfits, he let his gaze linger just a second too long.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were naturally flirty, and Nicholas never stood a chance. Whether it was handing him a jar of jam and cooing about how big and strong he was when he opened it or lounging by the pool in your tiny pink bikini and asking him to rub sunscreen on your back, you always knew how to push his buttons. He tried to keep his cool, but you saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands flexed, the way his eyes always lingered just a second too long.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. The way he looked at you wasn’t subtle. You caught him staring all the time. When you bent over to pick up Madison, when you stretched in the mornings and your playboy bunny belly ring glinted under the light, when you sat on the couch, twirling your hair and licking frosting off your fingers after baking with the kids. Once, you called him out on it. “You’re always staring, Mr. Chavez,” you giggled. His ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before leaving the room.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You never expected to get photographed with him, but you didn’t mind. Nicholas had taken you and the kids for ice cream, and suddenly, cameras were everywhere. “Nicholas! Who’s the girl?” one asked. “New nanny or new girlfriend?” You just giggled, wrapping your arms around his. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Chavez! Are we dating? Why didn’t you tell me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. He did get in trouble. Victoria was pissed when she saw the pictures, and the tension in the house was thick. Later that night, you found Nicholas in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey in hand. You licked whipped cream off your spoon, hopping onto the counter beside him. “Are you mad at me?” you pouted. He exhaled. “No, just—this is complicated.” Your silk pajama shorts rode up as you swung your legs. “Mmhmm. But complicated can be fun.” He looked at you for a long moment—then suddenly, he was there, standing between your legs, hands gripping your waist.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had shared a slow kiss, hesitant. But when you sighed against his lips, pulling him closer, he groaned and deepened it. His hands roamed, fingers brushing your exposed skin. You tasted like sugar, smelled like vanilla and flowers, and Nicholas couldn’t get enough. When you finally pulled away, breathless, you licked your lips, smirking. “Wow. You’re really good at that.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This is bad.” You kissed his jaw, giggling. “Mmhmm. And you love it.”
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had always been into older men, and Nicholas was no exception. The way they carried themselves. The way they spoke. The way they looked at you—like they actually saw you. Boys your age were boring. Nicholas was not. And now, with his hands still lingering on your waist, his lips still tingling from yours, you knew one thing for sure.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You wanted more.
ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. And so did he.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
a/n— I hope this introduction was good, send me requests for nicholas x bimbo!nanny!reader🩷
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pairing— nicholas alexander chavez x bimbo!nanny!reader
summary— after his wife’s jealousy and argument, nicholas sends her away to continue his escapades with you in peace
warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40), infidelity, ass slapping, hair pulling, choking, begging, slight degradation, possessiveness, jealousy, praise kink, fingering, cunnilingus, oral(m), voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, aftercare.
The house had been a bit tense since the Golden Globes. Victoria had seen everything—the pictures, the speech, the way the camera had panned to you at the exact moment he thanked a certain woman. She had confronted him about it, voice angry behind the bedroom door while you sat in the play room, braiding Madison’s hair and biting back a smile.
“She’s the nanny, Nicholas,” Victoria seethed. “Not your date. Do you know how humiliating that was? People sending me pictures, asking who she is, why I wasn’t with you—”
“The cameramen do that sometimes, V,” he interrupted. “It’s not that deep.”
“It is that deep when your wife isn’t there but she is,” she snapped.
You caught Madison’s curious glance in the mirror and gave her a reassuring smile, as if this argument wasn’t cracking you up. As usual, Victoria stormed out, too furious to even look in your direction.
Nicholas didn’t stop her.
By evening, you had put the kids down for a nap, and the house was quiet—except for the soft hum of Nicholas’ voice coming from his office. You hesitated for only a moment before pushing the large door open.
He briefly looked up when you stepped into his office. He was leaning back in his chair, one hand resting against his temple as he scrolled through scripts on his laptop. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, and the top buttons were undone, revealing a bit of his muscular chest to make you stare for a second too long.
“Kids down?” he asked, glancing at you briefly.
“Fast asleep,” you nodded, walking closer.
He hummed in approval, still focused on his screen. That was fine—you weren’t here to talk.
As you reached his desk, you spotted a pen lying on the floor near his chair. Perfect. You let it slip from your fingers, watching as it rolled under the desk.
“Oopsie,” you murmured, dropping to your knees.
He didn’t react at first, too absorbed in whatever work he was pretending to do. But the second he felt your hands sliding up his thighs, his muscles tensed. His jaw clenched.
“Y/N,” he warned.
You just smiled, fingers grazing over his belt. “Hm? Keep working,” you whispered.
His breath hitched as you made quick work of undoing his belt, your touch slow as you felt him harden. He exhaled sharply, shifting slightly in his seat as your hands moved with practiced ease. You took him out of his pants, and he sprang free, hard and veiny before you. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrests, his other hand lowering to tangle into your hair when your mouth made contact with his thick cock.
And then—a knock at the door.
You froze.
Nicholas cleared his throat quickly, his grip tightening in your hair, but not to pull you away. No, he wasn’t stopping you. He just needed you quiet.
“Come in,” he said, voice perfectly even.
The door creaked open, and Victoria stepped inside.
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” she sighed. “I just—I don’t know. I needed to cool off.”
“I know,” Nicholas exhaled slowly, his cock stiff beneath your hands as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat.
She lingered for a second before stepping closer, her arms crossed. “And for the record, I’m not jealous of Y/N. Just because she’s young and—”
“Victoria,” his voice was strained, cutting her off before she could finish.
“What?” she frowned.
He was getting close. You could feel it in the way his fingers twitched against your scalp, the way his cock throbbed in your mouth as you glided your tongue across his long shaft and caressed his balls.
“I think you should take a day at the beach house,” he said quickly. “Relax. Clear your head.”
She hesitated, studying him. “Y-you’re sending me away?”
“You know it helps you,” he reasoned. “And I have shit to do.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. I’ll go in a few.”
She turned and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her. The second she was gone, Nicholas’ entire body shuddered, his head tipping back against the chair. A low, breathy moan slipped past his lips as he came in your mouth, his fingers tightening in your hair for just a moment before going slack.
“You’re such a bad girl,” he muttered.
You giggled, wiping the corner of your mouth as you crawled out from under the desk.
“Your bad girl.”
Victoria left for the beach house in the morning, just as Nicholas had suggested. She didn’t say much before she left, just a tense nod and a quick hug for the kids. You had expected her to throw you a glare on her way out, but she barely spared you a glance. Maybe she was finally learning to pick her battles.
With her gone, the house felt quieter. Lighter. By bedtime, you had the kids settled into their routine. Madison clung to you as you read her a bedtime story, her tiny fingers curling around yours as her eyelids drooped. Alexander, on the other hand, was more resistant to sleep.
“Stay,” he mumbled as you tucked him in.
“Only until you fall asleep, okay?” you sighed, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead.
He gave a tired nod, already snuggling into your side. You lay beside him, running your fingers through his hair gently until his breathing evened out.
Once you were sure he was asleep, you carefully slipped out of bed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before making your way out of the room.
You didn’t expect to find Nicholas waiting for you.
He was standing at the end of the hall, watching you with a look that made your core throb. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up again, and his hands rested loosely in his pockets. He didn’t say a word, just tilted his head slightly—an invitation.
Your feet moved before your mind caught up. He walked ahead of you, leading the way down the hall. Not to your room. Not to his office. Not to any of the other rooms. To his bedroom.
The one he shared with his wife.
You hesitated for only a second before stepping inside like you owned the place. The door shut with a quiet click, and suddenly, it was just the two of you.
His eyes flickered over you, dark with something you recognized all too well. “You’ve been looking so fucking beautiful all day,” he murmured.
You smirked. “And?”
Instead of answering, he reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing against your ass.
“You know exactly what,” he muttered.
His hands skimmed higher, slow, like he had all the time in the world. You shivered, tilting your chin up as his mouth brushed over yours, hovering so close but didn’t quite close the distance.
“This bed,” you whispered, glancing past him at the neatly made sheets.
He hummed, his lips brushing against your neck. “Mine tonight,” he murmured. “Ours tonight.”
You didn’t argue. Instead, you let him pull you onto the bed, onto the same sheets where, just like the night he took your virginity, you weren’t just the nanny sneaking around the house.
You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it.
He kissed you deeply as his hands traced down your sides, fingers pressing lightly against your hips before sliding beneath the fabric of your skirt.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” he murmured against your lips.
“Do I?” you smiled, breathless.
“That stunt you pulled earlier,” he continued. “Under the desk. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep a straight face while you choked on my dick?”
You let out a soft laugh, but it quickly faded into a gasp as two fingers thrusted into your wet heat.
“I could barely focus on what she was saying,” he admitted, his mouth trailing along your jaw, down to your throat. “All I could think about was you.”
His thumb focused on your clit, moving in slow, teasing circles, and his fingers curled inside your pussy. Every thrust was meant to build you up, to unravel you piece by piece.
“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes dark as he watched your jaw fall agape. “So beautiful.”
You shivered at the praise, gripping onto his shoulders as the coil in your abdomen began to tighten.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” he continued, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You like it when I tell you that, don’t you?”
You nodded, barely able to find words. He chuckled. “Then cum on my fingers,” he whispered. “Let me see how much of a good girl you are.”
His words, the way his fingers moved with such precision, the way he knew your body like the back of his hand. It all sent you over the edge and your fingers dug into his muscular biceps as you shuddered, your orgasm ripping through you.
His lips captured yours again, swallowing the soft sounds you made as he guided you through every second of it, his fingers squelching in your pussy.
When the high finally melted away, leaving you breathless beneath him, he brushed his thumb over your cheek, his gaze softer now.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured.
He kissed his way down your body, his gaze locked with yours as you panted, savoring every inch of you. His hands ran over your body, removing the rest of your clothes and leaving you naked.
“You’re so fucking stunning,” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses right below your navel piercing.
His lips finally pressed against your clit, kissing and sucking and you shivered at the heat of his breath. He was completely focused on you, on every little reaction you gave him. The praise kept coming, whispered between each long lick that left your pussy quivering.
“So sweet,” he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs just a little tighter. “Nothing, no one could ever compare.”
You felt the pleasure spread through you at his words, a rush of something intoxicating. Your fingers curled into the sheets as the feeling of his tongue lapping at your juices overwhelmed you, your body trembling beneath him.
“You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” he praised. “So beautiful like this, such a pretty pussy.”
The pleasure built, pushing you toward the edge all over again. But it was his next words that completely undid you.
“She never tastes this good.”
A soft, helpless moan escaped you, your body giving in entirely to the overwhelming of his mouth engulfing your clit. He groaned in response, clearly pleased with how easily you unraveled for him.
“That’s my princess,” he murmured, pressing slow, soothing kisses to your pussy as you came down. “So fucking naughty.”
And as he kissed his way back up your body, claiming your lips in a slow, heated kiss, you realized the night was far from over.
Nicholas stood over you, shedding his clothes and stroking his hard cock. You squirmed, hips bucking slightly, wanting him closer.
“You’re so eager, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a low murmur. “Say please fuck me.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the bead of pre cum that had collected at the tip.
“Say it,” he instructed.
You gasped, eyes meeting his with a desperate longing. “Please fuck me,” you breathed, the words tumbling out of your mouth, eager for his touch.
A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Good girl,” he praised. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”
You nodded, feeling a wave of anticipation wash over you as he moved behind you. You lowered yourself onto your stomach, arching your back, your heart pounding in your chest, your body trembling with need.
His hands rested on your lower back, gently caressing the tattooed skin, as he whispered praises, his breath warm against your ear. “You're so fucking sexy like this. Every little thing about you drives me wild.”
Slowly, he dragged his cock along your folds, collecting your wetness as it squelched. He slapped your ass making you giggle but it quickly turned into a strangled gasp as he pushed into you. His cock took your breath away, stretching you out in a way you had desperately been needing.
He moaned, giving you a minute to adjust before sinking deeper into you. “So fucking tight for me, sweetheart.”
You shivered at his words, your pussy reacting to his every touch as you fluttered around him. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as an anchor as he thrusted, each movement sending a ripple of pleasure through you. “Taking this dick so well,” he continued, his voice shaky.
He fucked you with long, deep strokes, each one tipping you over the edge and slamming against your g spot. He left only the tip in before sending every inch of him into your cervix making you cry out into the sheets.
“Too hard baby? That’s too bad, you asked me to fuck you, sweetie. Now you have to take it,” he cooed.
He wrapped his hand around your neck, bringing you to arch off him and titling your head to the side to capture your lips in a needy kiss. You kissed him back with equal desperation, reaching around to grab his hair and run your fingers through it. You still couldn’t believe you had the married man you had needed so bad.
“Rub that clit for me, sweetheart. Need you to cum on this dick,” he whispered into your ear.
He squeezed your neck firm but gentle as you rubbed your clit, your pussy clamping around him.
“That’s it, baby. God, I need you to cum right fucking now,” he said, voice trembling.
Your hand went to the back of his head, pulling his lips into the back of your neck as your whole body shuddered. Your pussy gushed around his cock, soaking him and the sheets below.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised. “I’m so proud of you, but I’m not done with my pussy get.”
He swiftly positioned you so you were on top of him, his awaiting cock hard and throbbing. “I need you to ride this cock like you own it because sweetheart, you do. Fucking ride your cock.”
His words sent a rush of something through you. You were playing a dangerous game, but he was in charge and you knew—you’d win over her. The way he said it, so confident, so certain, made you even wetter. There was something primal in the way his words reached you.
Immediately, you lowered yourself onto his cock, placing your hands on his firm, muscular chest. You both moaned, his cock stretching you and practically splitting you in half as you sucked him in, inch by inch.
“You’re so tight baby, so wet,” he moaned, voice low and gravelly.
At his words, you lifted yourself and fell back down, his cock immediately kissing your cervix. Your nails dug into his chest and you began bouncing at a steady pace that made you feel him in your guts.
“So so big,” you cried out.
His hands went to your ass, grabbing it and guiding you as it clapped against him with each bounce. You could feel every vein, every throb and it had your mind empty. No thoughts, just his cock sliding inside you.
His jaw fell agape, his gaze moving from your pussy swallowing his cock to your tits bouncing wildly in his face. “Riding my cock so fucking well baby.”
He leaned forward, lips wrapped around your nipples and biting gently as you rode him like your life depended on it. As soon as you began circling your hips, grinding, finding a rhythm and circling again, you knew you had him.
“Oh my fucking God,” he moaned, fingers gripping the sheets. “Where the fuck did you learn that, I- I’m gonna cum.”
You moved your hips in a circle as you bounced, your precise movements having his toes curling and his fingers tangled in the sheets. “So fucking hot baby. You’re going to fucking kill me.”
The sight of him unraveling at your mercy beneath you and the feeling of his cock ripping you apart was enough to send you over the edge and your nails dug into his firm pecs as you squirted on his raw cock. You shuddered above him, but you kept bouncing and following your orgasm, you felt ropes of his warm, sticky cum filling you up.
He wrapped his big arms around you, finally regaining control and holding you in place as he thrusted inside you, making sure your tight pussy milked him of every last drop of his cum.
Nicholas gently pulled you down and you rested your head against his chest, your breath still coming in soft, steady breaths. He didn’t pull out, just held you close, his hand gently caressing your back.
“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so hot, so perfect. Every moment with you feels so right.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you responded, your voice equally soft, “You were incredible, too. It felt so good.”
He kissed you, slow, his lips tasting yours, savoring the connection. You began to shift slightly, trying to get off him to grab the covers.
But before you could fully pull away, Nicholas’ arms tightened around you, pulling you back to his warm body. He nuzzled your neck, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. “No, baby. Me and my girl are staying like this all night,” he said, his voice calm. “I’m not letting go of you just yet.”
The words sent a warmth through you, a sense of belonging that made your heart swell. You liked the sound of that. The idea of staying wrapped in his arms, feeling safe, wanted, and cherished, was more comforting than anything else.
“Mmkay,” you whispered, letting yourself relax again in his embrace, enjoying the quiet comfort of just being with him.
summary— Since the first kiss you shared with Nicholas, he’d been avoiding you, so to combat, you teased him relentlessly, having him at your mercy until he snapped.
warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40), infidelity, lots of flirting, fluff, strip tease, possessive!nicholas, spanking, finger sucking, fingering, praising, mentions of virginity.
Introduction Part II
Nicholas had been avoiding you.
It started right after the kiss—that slow, intoxicating moment when his hands were on your waist, and his lips molded against yours like he’d been waiting for it forever. But instead of pulling you into his arms again, he pulled away completely. Suddenly, he wasn’t around as much. He wasn’t in the kitchen late at night when you tiptoed in for a snack. He wasn’t watching you from across the playroom, trying and failing to pretend he wasn’t staring.
Instead, he was with Victoria.
You noticed how he started making more of an effort—taking her out, staying in conversation, touching her more. You tried not to care. But when you walked past their bedroom one night, the sound of hushed arguing made you stop in your tracks.
“What is this, Nicholas?” Victoria’s voice was sharp, accusing. “You’re not even into it. You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
“Jesus, Victoria, are you serious?” He sounded exhausted, frustrated. “I’m trying here. I’m literally trying, and you’re making up shit in your head.”
Silence.
Your heart pounded.
You shouldn’t have been listening. You should’ve walked away. But the lump in your throat wouldn’t go down.
The next morning, you found Nicholas alone in the living room before the kids woke up, scrolling through his phone, brows furrowed. He barely looked up when you walked in.
It made your stomach twist.
“Mr. Chavez,” you called, your voice was soft. He finally glanced at you, and you shifted on your feet, fingers curling around the hem of your pink crop top. “Are you mad at me?”
His expression softened immediately. He sighed, setting his phone down before leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
“No, honey,” he murmured.
You blinked up at him, lip quivering slightly. “Then why are you acting all weird?”
He ran a hand over his face before reaching for you, big hands cupping your cheeks, his thumb stroking your skin gently. “Because I put you in a position I never should have.” His voice was so low, so careful, and his lips were right there. “That was my fault. Not yours.”
“But I liked it,” you said instantly, eyes wide.
He let out a shaky breath, and for a second, it looked like he was struggling. Like he wanted to kiss you again. Like he needed to.
“It can’t happen again,” he whispered.
Your pout deepened, but you nodded, trying to look like you understood. “Okay. You’re right.”
Before he could say anything else, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself against his broad frame. He stiffened for just a moment before his hands found your back, hesitating—then holding you tight.
Your voice was soft and sultry as you whispered, “Thank you, Mr. Chavez.”
Then you pulled away, giving him one last doe-eyed glance before disappearing down the hall. And Nicholas was left sitting there, dick hard, jaw tight, knowing damn well this wasn’t over.
The next few days, you had Nicholas in a chokehold, and you knew it.
You weren’t doing anything explicitly wrong—just being yourself. A little giggle here, a casual brush against his arm there. The way your fingers smoothed over his shoulder when you walked past him, staying just a little too long. How you bent over a little too slowly when picking up the kids’ toys, or pouted at him like you had no clue why his gaze always dropped right to your boobs.
You played dumb.
And it drove him insane.
One evening, after you’d walked past him wearing a skimpy pajama set, soft pink lace that left little to the imagination—he finally snapped.
“Sweetheart,” he called after you, voice rough.
You turned, blinking up at him innocently. “Yes, Mr. Chavez?”
His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered down your body before meeting yours again. “What are you doing to me?”
“Nothing. What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed in feigned confusion.
Nicholas huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. So that’s how you wanted to play it.
“You,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Are trouble.”
You just smiled sweetly. “You’re the one that said it can’t happen again.”
His chuckle was quiet, deep, as he ran a hand over his face. You were messing with him. And worst of all? It was working.
One morning, you sat cross-legged in front of your vanity, doing your makeup while Madison and Alexander sat beside you, watching in awe.
“Pretty,” Madison sighed dreamily. “Want that.” She pointed to the lipgloss you held in your right hand.
You giggled. “Thank you, baby. Wanna try some lip gloss?”
Her eyes lit up. You dabbed a bit of clear gloss on her lips, and she smacked them together excitedly, grinning at her reflection in your pink handheld mirror.
And then Victoria walked by.
Her sharp gasp made you freeze.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped.
Madison shrunk back. You blinked up at Victoria, confused. “She asked me to—”
“And you just did it?” She scoffed. “She’s a child! She doesn’t need that cheap lip gloss all over her face!”
You exhaled, trying to keep your cool. “Victoria, you know she would’ve cried if I didn’t—”
“And why are you even putting on makeup right now?” Her voice rose, cutting you off. “Who are you trying to impress, huh? My husband?”
Your stomach dropped.
Before you could respond, a deeper voice cut through the tension.
“Victoria,” Nicholas warned.
You both turned. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes dark.
“Stop it.” His tone left no room for argument.
She scoffed. “The nanny is putting her cheap lip gloss on my daughter—”
Your jaw clenched, ready to fire back. But instead, you did what you did best.
Your lips quivered. Your eyes all big and filled with tears. Your chin dipped, and you pouted like you were seconds away from crying.
Nicholas melted.
He let out a quiet sigh, stepping forward to cup the back of your head and pull you into his chest.
“Hey,” he cooed, his voice warm, “it’s okay, sweetheart.”
Victoria stiffened. “Are you serious?”
Nicholas barely looked at her. “Take the kids downstairs.”
She clenched her jaw, eyes flickering between the two of you. But she didn’t argue. She just rolled her eyes, huffed, and yanked Madison and Alexander’s hands, pulling them toward the stairs.
The moment she was gone, Nicholas pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up.
“Are you okay?”
Your lips curled into a tiny smile. “I am now that you’re hugging me with your big arms.”
His expression flickered, something passing through his dark gaze. Then you wrapped your arms around him again, pressing yourself against him, your soft hands sliding up his arms and back.
“Mm, you’re so manly,” you moaned, “so big and strong.”
Nicholas tensed.
You felt it—how his muscles tightened, how his chest rose with a slow, deep inhale. How something else pressed against you, solid.
Your lashes fluttered as you tilted your head up, lips hovering just over his chest. “Mr. Chavez,” you murmured.
His hands flexed on your waist.
And you knew you had him.
Nicholas’ grip on your waist tightened. He shouldn’t. But with you pressed so close, warm and soft against him, your scent sweet and intoxicating, his self-control was slipping.
His lips hovered just above your hair as he inhaled deeply, letting your perfume settle in his lungs like a drug. You were ruining him. His fingers flexed at your waist, gripping just a little harder, his pulse pounding in his ears.
He wanted to take you right then and there—right against the vanity, where his wife could walk in at any moment. He wanted to press you against the mirror, tilt your head back, and claim those glossy lips. Claim that pussy he knew was tight and ready for him.
You shifted slightly, your body brushing against him, and Nicholas swore under his breath. His jaw clenched. His resolve was cracking.
Then, just as his head dipped lower to kiss you, as if drawn by some invisible force—you stepped away.
“Well, I’m gonna finish getting ready!” you said brightly, completely unbothered, as if you hadn’t just had him on the verge of losing himself.
Nicholas exhaled sharply, shaking his head, watching as you hopped back to the mirror.
You hummed to yourself as you dusted on a final touch of highlighter, your hips swaying slightly, utterly oblivious to what you’d just done to him.
He let out a rough chuckle, rubbing his hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”
You turned, blinking up at him. “What?”
“Nothing, sweetheart,” he muttered, forcing himself to look away.
A bit of silence passed before he cleared his throat. “I, uh—” He hesitated. “I’m sorry about Victoria.”
You turned back to your reflection, carefully applying another layer of your lipliner. “What for?”
“For how she acted,” he said, watching you. “She’s not usually like that.”
You shot him a skeptical look through the mirror. “I find that hard to believe.”
Nicholas sighed, but he didn’t argue.
Victoria left the house in a fury, slamming the door behind her. So it was just you, Nicholas, and the kids.
With Madison on your hip and Alexander perched on the kitchen counter, you set about making your famous baked mac and cheese.
“Okay, little chefs,” you cooed, handing them both a handful of shredded cheese. “Sprinkle it all over, just like this.”
Madison giggled as she clumsily dropped her handful onto the tray, while Alexander, ever the perfectionist, focused like a professional chef.
“You guys are naturals!” you gushed, pressing a dramatic kiss to Alexander’s forehead. He blushed, ducking his head.
“You forgot mine!” Madison pouted.
You gasped playfully. “Oh no, my princess needs a kiss too!” You smothered her chubby cheek in kisses, making her squeal.
As you turned to slide the tray into the oven, you suddenly felt a presence.
Your breath hitched as you spun around—and there was Nicholas, watching.
You placed a hand over your heart. “Mr. Chavez, you scared me!”
“Did I?” he smirked.
“You so were staring at me,” you accused, your other hand holding Madison close.
“I wasn’t,” he said as he cleared his throat, shifting slightly.
“You so were,” Alexander piped up, all too happy to sell his dad out.
Nicholas shot him a look. “Whose side are you on?”
“Y/N’s,” Alexander said proudly, throwing his arms around you.
“Good answer, baby,” you giggled, ruffling his brown hair.
Nicholas exhaled a laugh, but his eyes lingered on you for a bit too long. Because as you stood there, effortlessly balancing his daughter, doting on his son, moving around his kitchen like you belonged—he found himself thinking you’d make a great mother.
A great mother to his children.
And maybe even—more of his children.
Nicholas shook the thought away as Alexander pulled back, still grinning.
“Y/N kissed me and Madison,” he mused. “But what about you, daddy?”
Nicholas raised a brow, amused. “Yeah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Where’s mine?”
“Yours?” you asked, letting out a giggle.
He turned to Alexander. “Shouldn’t I get a kiss too, buddy?”
Alexander nodded happily. “Yeah! Give daddy a kiss!”
Nicholas smirked, shifting closer. “Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping. “Give daddy a kiss.”
Your breath caught. For a second, you froze, heart thudding loudly in your chest. Then, before you could second guess yourself, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
Nicholas inhaled sharply. You pulled away, all doe-eyed innocence, like you hadn’t just ruined him in a single second.
Then, as if you hadn’t just branded him, you turned back to the oven and chirped, “I hope you’re hungry, Mr. Chavez!”
Nicholas let out a slow, shaky breath, running a hand over his jaw.
Oh, sweetheart.
You had no idea.
Evening settled over the mansion, the warm scent of baked mac and cheese filling the air as you finished plating everyone’s share. Alexander kicked his feet excitedly under the table while Madison clung to your side, eager for her portion.
You scooped up a bite for Alexander, holding the spoon to his lips. “Open up, baby.”
He grinned, taking the bite before giggling. “Mmm! So good!”
Nicholas smirked, ruffling his son’s hair before turning to Madison, gently offering her a spoonful. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
She happily opened her mouth, chewing with delight before clapping her hands. “Yummy!”
“See? Told you guys I make the best mac and cheese.” you beamed.
Nicholas raised a brow, amused. “You sound pretty confident.”
“I am confident.” you said as you twirled your spoon playfully. “Now, Mr. Chavez, your turn.”
Nicholas leaned back slightly. “Oh? Am I getting special treatment too?”
You giggled. “Open up.”
He chuckled under his breath but obeyed, parting his lips as you fed him a spoonful. The moment the cheesy flavor hit his tongue, his brows lifted in surprise.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he admitted, shaking his head.
You giggled, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Told you.”
The evening passed with full bellies and when it was time for bed, you bathed the kids, their tired giggles filling the air, and helped tuck them in. Nicholas offered to put Alexander down while you took Madison, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s forehead before slipping out of the room.
And then he saw you.
Sitting on the edge of Madison’s bed, brushing back her soft hair as you read to her in a soothing tone. She was barely awake, blinking up at you sleepily as you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, princess,” you whispered.
Nicholas stood frozen in the doorway, something unfamiliar tightening in his chest. He found himself thinking once again, you’d be a great mother. The thought was dangerous, but it was there. Then you turned, catching him watching.
You smirked. “You’re staring again, Mr. Chavez.”
Nicholas exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Can’t help myself.”
Your giggle was soft as you brushed past him, padding into your room. As you walked into your room, Nicholas trailed behind like a lost puppy, unable to tear his eyes away from you. The way your hips swayed, the soft curve of your waist—everything about you was intoxicating and you had him completely wrapped around your finger. And then he saw just beneath the waistband of your shorts, your tramp stamp tattoo peeking out, a delicate mark sitting low on your back.
Nicholas clenched his jaw.
He’d love to have you bent over, his fingers tracing slow circles over that ink, feeling you tremble beneath his touch. The thought alone made his grip tighten at his sides.
And just when he thought you couldn’t test him any further, you reached for the hem of your top.
Without a second thought, you lifted it over your head, letting the fabric drop to the floor.
Nicholas’ breath hitched. A leopard print lace bra.
Of course, you were wearing something bold, something so you. And you weren’t done.
Hooking your fingers into the waistband of your shorts, you wiggled out of them, bending just enough to give him a full view of your clothed pussy before stepping out of them completely.
Nicholas was practically heaving at this point. You peeked over your shoulder, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Close your mouth, Mr. Chavez.”
His lips parted, ready to say something, anything—but nothing came out. You only giggled, climbing onto your bed like nothing had happened, flipping through your phone, legs swinging idly.
Nicholas dragged a hand down his face.
You were toying with him. You had him at your mercy.
And worst of all? It was working.
Nicholas tried to act unaffected. He cleared his throat, shifting his stance like he was preparing to leave. “I- I should head to bed,” he mumbled, though he didn’t move.
You pouted, tilting your head. “Stay,” you said softly. “Just to talk.”
“Talking, huh?”
You nodded, all wide eyed and innocent, stretching your arms over your head in a way that had his gaze flickering lower before he caught himself.
With a sigh, he sat at the edge of your bed while you casually chatted, kicking your feet and twirling your hair around your finger. Your eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Do you think I’m a bad girl, Mr. Chavez?” you asked, voice between playful innocence and sultriness.
Nicholas swallowed hard, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the sheet. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“Am I?” you whispered, inching closer.
His jaw clenched, every muscle in his body tense. He reached out, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, his thumb brushing your lower lip. Your breath hitched, the air crackling between you. His thumb parted your lips and in and act of boldness, it slipped pass, finding the wetness in your mouth. With your gaze locked on his, you sucked on his thumb, wrapping your lips around it and swirling your tongue.
His breath hitched. “Fuck.”
He pulled his thumb out and put it into his mouth, sucking the remnants of your saliva.
Just as his lips hovered inches from yours, the sound of the front door downstairs opening made him jolt back. Victoria’s heels clacked against the floor, her sour mood obvious. Catching Nicholas slipping out of your room, his face flushed, she raised a brow, her gaze darting between the two of you.
“Really, Nicholas?” she spat in suspicion and jealousy.
You played innocent, clutching the blanket to your chest. “We were just talking,” you offered sweetly, biting back a grin at how her eyes narrowed further.
Victoria scoffed, crossing her arms. “Is that right? Because it doesn’t seem like that.”
Nicholas stiffened, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re being ridiculous,” he deflected.
Her glare lingered before she finally turned on her heel, muttering something under her breath as she retreated down the hall.
You stretched out on the bed, arching your back, letting the blanket slip just enough to tease. “Goodnight, Mr. Chavez,” you purred.
He gripped the doorknob tightly, caught in the web you had woven. The hallway stretched before him—the master bedroom he shared with his wife on one end, your tantalizing presence on the other.
You glanced at him, eyes sparkling. “Unless, you wanna stay?”
His breath hitched, eyes roaming over you one last time before he finally tore himself away, muttering a strained, “G-goodnight, sweetheart,” as he pulled the door shut behind him.
Left alone, you hugged your pillow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. If he thought this was over, he was sorely mistaken.
The next morning, you woke up early, making breakfast for Nicholas and the kids. Pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit—you wanted everything to be just right. Madison sat on the counter, swinging her legs while Alexander set the table, and Nicholas leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching you.
“You always cook like this?” he asked, voice still rough from sleep.
You flashed him a playful smile. “Only when I feel like being appreciated.”
After breakfast, you got the kids ready for school, hair brushed, backpacks packed and finally took a moment to get yourself dressed. A crop top, a denim mini skirt, platform sandals, light makeup. When you walked back into the living room, Nicholas was already standing by the door, keys in hand, but his eyes trailed over you slowly, his grip tightening on the keyring.
You smirked, adjusting your skirt. “Too much?”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No, you look beautiful.” But deep down, he wanted to say yes—only because he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.
You dropped the kids off at their private school, earning a mix of disapproving side eyes and whispered admiration from the teachers. Nicholas barely looked at anyone, his hand hovering protectively over your lower back as he led you out.
“Want to come with me to set?” he offered once you were back in the car.
“Why not? Not like I have anything better to do.”
The moment you arrived, heads turned. Nicholas had always been the center of attention, but today, all eyes were on you. His hand remained firm on your back as he guided you inside, like he needed everyone to know you were with him.
The team got to work dressing him for the press interview and photoshoot, buttoning a crisp white shirt over his broad chest, rolling the sleeves up just enough to show off his muscular forearms. His jawline looked even sharper under the bright studio lights, his dark hair tousled in that perfect way you loved to see it.
“Wow,” you murmured under your breath, watching as the stylist fussed over his collar.
“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” Nicholas turned to you, amused.
“Just that you look like—really, really good,” you said, titling your head and smiling.
His smirk deepened. Before you could react, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. The unexpected gesture made warmth bloom in your chest, and you knew he saw the way you grew flustered.
You rolled your eyes but still clapped for him when the cameras started flashing, watching as he moved effortlessly through the shoot. He was a natural and you bit your lip seeing him in his element.
While he was busy, a younger guy, one of the interns, maybe, made his way over to you. He was all easy smiles and smooth compliments, obviously flirting. You laughed, twirling a strand of hair around your finger as he asked for your number.
Nicholas noticed. His expression darkened, his fists clenched. In seconds, he was striding over, his muscular frame practically blocking the guy from view.
“She’s busy,” Nicholas snapped, his voice dangerously low.
The intern blinked, startled. “Oh—I was just—”
“Leaving,” Nicholas finished for him.
“You didn’t have to be mean,” you huffed, crossing your arms.
Nicholas didn’t look away from the guy. “Yeah, I did.”
Smirking, you turned back. “Wait, what was your number again?”
Nicholas turned to you, his voice firm. “Y/N. Let’s go. Now.”
Your expression dropped, irritation creeping in. “Why? Because some guy talked to me?”
“Because I said so,” Nicholas said with a clenched his jaw, grabbing your wrist—not rough, just enough to make you follow.
The ride home was tense. You stared out the window, arms folded, before finally snapping, “It’s not fair.”
He exhaled. “What’s not?”
You turned to him. “You’re married. Am I supposed to just sit around and be sad and lonely while you go home to your wife?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Y/N, stop.”
“No.”
He glanced at you, his eyes dark. “You’re being a brat.”
You scoffed. “What are you gonna do? Exactly.”
Nicholas exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure. “I’ll take you over my knee when we get home. Don’t test me.”
You rolled your eyes stifling a gasp. “You’re too pussy for that.”
Nicholas was silent for a moment, but his knuckles went white around the steering wheel.
The second you got home, he yanked the car door open, pulling you out and leading you straight inside.
“Hey—” you protested, but he didn’t stop, not until you were in your room, door shut behind you.
He was fuming, eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the heat of his frustration in the air.
“What now, Mr. Chavez?” you swallowed, tilting your chin up defiantly.
“Keep pushing and find out.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest in an attempt to shove him toward the door. “I think I’ll find that cute guy’s Instagram,” you said, just to test him, just to see how far you could push.
Something in Nicholas snapped. Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, sat down on the edge of your bed, and pulled you over his knee with surprising ease. Your breath hitched as you found yourself sprawled across his legs, your hands pressing into the mattress for balance.
“What are you doing, Mr Chavez?” you asked, all innocent.
He let out a slow breath, his palm resting on the small of your back. “What you’ve been needing these past few months,” he murmured, his voice low.
You swallowed, but refused to let him win so easily. “You’re not gonna do it,” you taunted, tilting your head to glance at him from the corner of your eye. “You’re still a—”
The sharp sound of his palm meeting denim cut you off. A gasp left your lips before you could stop it.
“Count,” Nicholas instructed, his voice firm but not unkind.
You hesitated, then exhaled. “One.”
“Good girl,” he praised, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your skirt before hiking it up then delivering another. You squirmed, but counted again.
By the time he reached ten, warmth spread across your ass. His hand lingered, soothing over where he’d struck, his fingers tracing patterns as if to calm the sting. Then, without thinking, he pressed a kiss, the contact sending a shiver down your spine.
You shifted in his lap, your hands pressing against his chest as you straddled him, legs on either side of his thighs. Nicholas stilled, his breathing uneven as you settled against him. His hands instinctively found your waist, gripping you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you closer.
His gaze flickered down, something dark and unreadable crossing his face. His fingers trailed lower, finding their way into your underwear and when he realized just how wet you were, a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” he murmured, shaking his head in amusement. “Getting all worked up from being spanked.”
Your whole body warmed. “Shut up,” you muttered, but your breath hitched when, without warning, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled—hard enough to tear the delicate fabric.
“Hey!” you gasped, eyes wide. “That was Victoria’s Secret!”
Nicholas smirked, tossing the ruined fabric aside like it meant nothing. “I’ll take you to the store tomorrow,” he promised, his voice low and smooth. “You can pick out as many as you want.”
His eyes searched yours, his expression shifting into something more serious, more intense. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you could feel the heat radiating between you. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and then—your lips crashed together.
It was wild, needy, weeks—months of tension snapping all at once. Nicholas groaned against your mouth, his hands roaming your back, your waist, your ass, gripping, exploring, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. You kissed him just as desperately, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go.
When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together.
Then, before you could react, Nicholas shifted, turning you in one swift movement so that your back was against his chest, your legs draped over his knees. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
“You drive me insane,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. A shiver ran through you as he trailed slow, lingering kisses along your skin, his breath warm against your shoulder.
You swallowed, eyes flickering to the standing mirror in front of you. The sight made your stomach flip—Nicholas behind you, his dark eyes hooded with something dangerous, desperate and needy. His lips pressed just beneath your jaw, on your collarbone, your neck, your cheeks, all over, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.
His breath was unsteady as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit your scent to memory.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough with restraint. Your hands curled over his arms, your heart pounding. “Maybe,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly, allowing him more access. “But I think I’m starting to.”
Nicholas let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “You’re a tease.”
You smirked. “But you totally love it.”
He sighed, pressing one last lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I really do.”
With a smirk playing on your lips, you took his hand and placed it right on your pussy, the heat and wetness making him gasp.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice faltering.
“Something that I know we both want to do,” you answered.
As you stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes darkened and you couldn’t help the tiny moan that left your lips as his fingers pressed against your bundle of nerves. The air was charged, both of your breaths heavy as he slowly rubbed your clit.
“Fuck, your moans are just pretty as I imagined,” he whispered in your ear.
As he rubbed your clit slowly, his gaze was laser focused on you in the mirror. He slipped a finger inside you, a gasp leaving your lips, nothing had ever been inside you besides your fingers and his eyebrows furrowed in the mirror before he used his free hand to tilt your head.
“Sweetheart, are you a virgin?” he asked.
You nodded slowly, a bit of embarrassment evident on your face. “Is that like, bad?
“No, no it isn’t, sweetheart. I just didn’t know.” He’d have to think about that and discuss it later, the revelation had definitely surprised him.
All rational thoughts however, had been slapped out of your head when he curled his finger inside you while he rubbed your clit. The pleasure was beyond anything you had ever felt and you squirmed in his lap. He pumped his finger carefully, gradually increasing his pace as he pressed kisses against your neck.
“So fucking tight for me sweetheart,” he said, between kisses.
“Well duh, I’m a v—” Your snarky remark was cut short when he slipped another finger inside your pussy, the sound of squelching filling the room. You could see the cocky smirk on his face in the mirror and your pussy clenched at how hot he looked. Hair tousled, face chiseled, your hot boss was finger fucking you. Your hot married boss at that. And you were enjoying it thoroughly.
“Mr. Chavez,” you gasped, your back arching off his chest, “I’m gonna cum.”
His movements increased and you began squirming away but he held you close, his fingers relentless and he fell back on the bed. You were pressed against his chest on top of him, your moans so loud, it echoed throughout that wing of the mansion.
“Cum for me. Cum all over my fingers sweetheart.”
Your release washed over you, hitting you like a truck and you squirted all over his fingers. He didn’t stop though, Nicholas continued pumping his fingers until he drew every last moan and liquid from you, leaving you utterly spent and a breathless mess in his arms.
He placed you beside him and you watched as he licked his finger clean of your juices. “You taste delicious,” he hummed in delight.
Your cheeks heated and you hid your face in the crook of his neck. He wasn’t having it and he cupped your cheeks so that you were looking at him.
“Are you gonna act like weird again like when we kissed?” you asked, a small pout on your lips.
“I won’t, I promise. And now you have to promise me you’ll keep this a secret.”
summary— Your ‘relationship’ with your boss has progressed, leading to jealousy from his wife and him inviting you to an award ceremony. After the ceremony, you celebrate in the best way possible with the dam finally breaking after close calls and stolen moments,
warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40), infidelity, virgin!reader, lots of flirting, ass grabbing and groping, fluff, slight angst, jealousy, praise kink, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, oral(m), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, L bomb.
a/n— Last part(?) but requests for bimbo!nanny!reader x nicholas are open <3 Please note, this is just fanfiction and I don’t condone cheating of any kind irl. w.c— 7.4k
Part I
Nicholas had kept his word—he didn’t act weird like he did after the kiss. He was as composed as ever, stealing long kisses when no one was looking, his hands sometimes wandering to your ass and boobs, groping you like he couldn’t get enough, leaving breathless before pulling away like nothing happened. But he hadn’t gone further than that, and you knew why.
Victoria had been pissed lately. At first, it was the time he spent with you, but even when he tried to fuck her—unfortunately or even spend time with her, she accused him of thinking about you. She wasn’t wrong, though.
You weren’t mad that you hadn’t gone all the way yet. If anything, you enjoyed dragging things out, watching Nicholas struggle to keep his composure. You teased him relentlessly, brushing up against him when you passed, wearing skirts that made his gaze linger too long on your ass, pressing a finger to his lips when he looked like he might lose control.
You had him wrapped around your finger, and you both knew it.
One afternoon, you were in the kitchen making a bottle for Madison and grabbing juice for Alexander. You hummed to yourself, swaying slightly as you reached for the top shelf. You didn’t hear Nicholas step in until his hands were on your waist, pulling you back against him.
“You like torturing me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured against your ear, his lips grazing your skin.
You let out a breathy laugh, arching to feel how hard he was behind you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, though the way you pushed against him said otherwise.
Nicholas exhaled sharply, his grip tightening, his lips dragging down your neck. “You drive me insane,” he muttered.
Before you could answer, small footsteps echoed down the hall. You barely had time to push him away before Alexander ran into the kitchen, his little hands reaching for his juice. Nicholas took a step back, adjusting his shirt as if nothing had happened, while you handed Alexander his drink with an innocent smile.
Close call. Again. Kids always talked and you didn’t need to scar him or have him blabber to his mother about what he saw.
Later that evening, when Victoria was out for one of her shoots—or whatever she did when she wasn’t home, you and Nicholas found yourselves alone in the living room. The kids were distracted in their playroom, giving you a rare moment of privacy. You stretched lazily on the couch, your skirt slipping up just enough to show the soft curve of your thigh and peeking to show your thong barely covering your pussy. Nicholas sat across from you, gripping the armrest so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Something wrong?” you asked, your voice filled with false innocence.
Nicholas exhaled, shaking his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Do I?” you giggled.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was one second away from crossing the room and ruining you. But before he could even try, Madison’s cries echoed from upstairs.
You smirked, slipping off the couch and brushing past him on your way to the playroom. As you passed, you leaned in just enough to whisper, “Better luck next time, Mr. Chavez.”
You didn’t have to turn around to know he was watching you walk away, frustration rolling off him.
God, you loved this game.
The house was quieter than usual today, with Nicholas and the kids out. You had a moment to relax when you heard the sound of Victoria’s heels clicking against the floor. You didn’t even need to turn around to know she was heading your way. When she spoke, her voice was laced with irritation.
“You think you can keep up this little act?” she said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes narrowed in your direction. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”
You took a breath, turning around slowly with a small, innocent smile. “What do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious but with a subtle hint of challenge in your tone.
Her gaze flickered over you, clearly looking for any sign of weakness. “Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on between you and Nicholas. The way you act, the way you look at him, its obvious you want my husband.”
You laughed lightly, a little too sweetly for her liking. “Look, Victoria, I’m just here to do my job. If you’ve got a problem with it, I suggest we talk to Nicholas about it. I’m sure he doesn’t mind the extra help.”
She scoffed, clearly not buying it. “You think he doesn’t notice? I know you’ve got some kind of charm working on him. But don’t think you can fool me. I see right through you.”
You crossed your arms, stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t need to fool anyone. And I’m not dumb, just because I like to have—fun.” You let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, “I graduated university early with a degree that you don’t have, not that it’s any of your business. And with honors, might I add.”
Victoria’s lips pressed together as she looked at you, clearly stunned. For a moment, she was silent, her eyes searching yours, but you were already a step ahead.
“You may think you know everything, but I’ve got a lot more going on than you realize,” you said with a sly grin. “I’m not just the dumb, pretty face you think you can dismiss.”
Before she could say anything else, you turned away, walking past her and leaving the tension hanging in the air. You weren’t about to waste any more of your time on her. What you would use your time to do though, was fuck her husband and get a one up over her. She’d see who really ran things.
As you moved to the kitchen, you thought about how she was probably stewing over the conversation but there wasn’t anything she could do. Nicholas was your boss, she couldn’t fire you. But then, just as you grabbed a glass of water, you heard the door open, and Nicholas stepped in, looking a little worn out from the time with the kids.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. You returned the smile, and for a moment, the air felt electric between you two.
He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on your ass as he passed you. You caught a hint of his aftershave, the familiar scent that always seemed to draw you in. Your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your ear. “You look gorgeous today,” he murmured, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.
You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure, but the closeness was intoxicating. You could feel the heat between you two intensifying. “You're just saying that to distract me,” you teased softly.
Nicholas chuckled, and for a brief moment, his hands lingered at your ass, his hands caressing the plump flesh. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of warmth straight to your core. “Maybe I am,” he said his eyes locking onto yours. “But does it work?”
Just as you were about to speak, you heard the sound of footsteps, and in that instant, you both quickly pulled apart, trying to act casual as the kids walked into the room. But the energy between you and Nicholas hadn't dissipated, it lingered in the air and all you wanted to do was pounce on him.
Later, with the kids busy playing, you found yourself alone with him again. You could feel him near, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and it was hard not to let your guard slip. You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “We’ll have to be more careful next time,” you whispered, knowing the game was far from over.
Nicholas seemed to hesitate for a second, his breath hitching slightly as he met your gaze. “I can't promise I'll be able to stay away,” he murmured. “I need you so fucking bad, sweetheart.”
Just as you both leaned in, about to lose yourselves in another heated kiss, the sound of a door opening caused you to pull away quickly, your heart racing as Victoria’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“The kids are looking for their snacks,” she said, her tone laced with something that you couldn’t quite place—annoyance? Maybe. She glanced over at you and Nicholas, her eyes narrowing.
You smiled sweetly, trying to act innocent. “I’ll be right there,” you said, offering her a wave as you stood up. You glanced back at Nicholas one more time before heading towards the kitchen, your mind already thinking about the next close call. But that next close call thought was shattered.
Something was off, and Nicholas could feel it. It wasn’t anything obvious—just small shifts in your usual demeanor. No lingering glances, no soft smiles, no lighthearted giggles whenever he teased you. You were polite but distant, your usual bubbly energy dulled to something restrained.
And it had everything to do with this morning.
Victoria had always been affectionate with him in front of you—little touches here and there, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers tracing over his jaw, but today had been different. This time, she had kissed him, pressing her lips to his with a kind of ease that came with being his wife. She had pushed herself against him, fingers lacing in his hair, and she had looked right at you as she did it.
Like she was reminding you exactly where you stood.
It shouldn’t have bothered you. Nicholas wasn’t yours. No matter how much he said he wanted you, no matter how many times he found an excuse to keep you close, he still went into bed with her at the end of the day.
But it stung.
And now, hours later, you were still in your own head about it, stirring the sauce on the stove without really paying attention. You didn’t even hear Nicholas come in until you felt his presence behind you, his hand going over your hip before stopping himself.
“Are you mad at me, sweetheart?” His voice was low.
You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the pot. “No.”
He sighed, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting weird all day. Did I do something?”
“No,” you repeated, softer this time.
He didn’t buy it. You felt him reach for you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. And then, before you could step away, he leaned in, lips parting, about to kiss you. But you turned your head at the last second, letting his lips land against your cheek instead.
He froze. You felt the way his breath hitched, the way his hand lingered against your jaw like he was trying to figure out what just happened. Slowly, he pulled back, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“Okay, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice more urgent now.
“It’s nothing, really. I should finish dinner before the kids get home,” you said as you exhaled sharply.
“No,” he said immediately, stepping in front of you. “Talk to me, honey.”
You hesitated. It wasn’t like you to tell him how you felt, not when you assumed this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. But the way he was looking at you now, searching your face like he genuinely cared, made it impossible to brush him off.
You sighed. “This morning. With her.”
His expression flickered, realization dawning. He pressed his lips together, nodding like he understood exactly what you meant. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “I should’ve—” He exhaled. “I didn’t think. I didn’t want to make you feel like, like you don’t matter to me.”
Your chest tightened. “I know I don’t have a right to be upset. She’s your wife.”
“But you mean something to me, too,” he said quickly, reaching for you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. “You mean so much to me.”
Your resolve cracked. The way he was looking at you, the warmth in his touch, the sincerity in his voice, it was too much.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”
You melted against him, letting him wrap his arms around you, inhaling the familiar scent of him.
“How?” you mumbled against his chest, your voice small.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This weekend.”
“What?”
“Victoria’s flying out with the kids for that wedding,” he reminded you. “You’re supposed to go, but she made it very clear she’d rather struggle alone than have you there.”
You let out a small, breathy laugh at that. “She really hates me.”
“She’s jealous,” he corrected, smirking. “Not that I blame her.”
Your cheeks warmed, but before you could respond, he continued.
“I have the Golden Globes Friday, but tomorrow, I’m taking you shopping,” he said, smoothing his hands down your hips. “Whatever you want. All weekend, you’re mine.”
“Really?” you asked, a slow, giddy smile spread across your face.
He nodded. “Really.”
You bit your lip, your usual bubbly energy returning as you swayed on your heels. “I do love shopping.”
“I know you do.”
And just like that, the jealousy and frustration from earlier faded into something warm and sweet. Because maybe, for just a little while, you could pretend that you were his. And maybe, for just a little while, he could pretend too.
The next morning, Nicholas kept his promise. You had expected something simple, maybe a quick stop at a store before he had to rush off to film. But no, he was serious about spoiling you. He had a car pick you up, a sleek black one with tinted windows, and when you slid inside, he was already waiting, his arm stretched across the back of the seat like he had all the time in the world for you.
“You ready?” he asked, smirking as his eyes dragged over your outfit. “You look pretty.”
You rolled your eyes, but your stomach fluttered at the compliment. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere nice,” he said simply, nodding to the driver.
You tried not to overthink what somewhere nice meant. You tried not to wonder if he had done this before, taken Victoria shopping, picked out things for her, spoiled her the way he was about to spoil you.
But as soon as you arrived, stepping into the first high end designer store where the sales associates practically tripped over themselves to greet Nicholas, all those thoughts faded.
Because this? This was for you.
And he made that clear.
“What about this?” you asked, holding up a red dress, expecting the usual nod of approval.
But Nicholas shook his head. “Not you.”
You blinked. “Not me?”
He took the dress from your hands, replacing it with another—softer, sexier, something that hugged you in all the right places.
“This,” he murmured, running his thumb over the fabric. “This is you.”
Your breath caught.
And it continued like that—him choosing things for you, watching you try them on, leaning back in his seat as he took you in. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel.
But it was dangerous too.
Because at the end of the day, he still wasn’t yours.
And as much as he wanted you to feel special, this wasn’t real.
Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be.
Nicholas had certainly followed through on every word, after, he made sure to take you from one designer store to another, never once flinching at the price tags. Gucci, Chanel, Cartier—if you wanted it, it was yours. He helped you pick out the perfect dress for the ceremony, something elegant but undeniably you, pairing it with Louboutin heels that made your legs look even longer. You had even restocked your makeup with Charlotte Tilbury, layering yourself in luxury.
But the best part? He let you indulge in your favorites. Juicy Couture, where you picked out sets in every color. Victoria’s Secret, where you didn’t hold back, tossing lace and silk into your shopping bags without a second thought.
Nicholas didn’t complain once. He only watched, entertained and amused, as you treated yourself like the princess he claimed you were. It wasn’t until you were in the dressing room, slipping into a plush pink robe, that things took a turn.
You were adjusting the belt in front of the mirror when the lock clicked behind you.
Your breath caught.
Nicholas.
He had slipped inside, shutting the door behind him, his presence instantly making the small space feel even smaller. His gaze dragged over you like he had all the time in the world to admire you.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured.
“Mr. Chavez, you’re not supposed to be in here.”
His lips twitched. “You’re right.” He stepped closer, pressing a hand to the curve of your waist, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Because, being in here makes me wanna fuck you right here, right now.”
A shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face him, eyes wide. “Mr. Cha—”
“I know,” he cut in, his fingers tracing the belt of your robe, his voice soft but insistent. “I can’t. But I can do something else.”
Before you could ask what he meant, he dropped to his knees. Your stomach flipped. “Nicholas—”
“Shh,” he murmured, smoothing his hands over your thighs. His eyes lifted to yours, dark. “Let me make you feel good.”
Your breath hitched.
Outside, the store was filled with people—other shoppers, sales associates, people who had no idea what was happening behind the locked door.
You shouldn’t. But when Nicholas pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, looking up at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, your resolve crumbled.
And as his hands slowly spread your pussy open, as he whispered soft praises against you, you realized something dangerous.
For the first time all day, it wasn’t the diamonds or designer labels that made you feel spoiled.
It was him.
You pressed a hand to the wall, the other gripping the belt of your robe like an anchor, your knees threatening to give out as Nicholas ravished your pussy with his mouth.
He had always been good with words, but now? Now he spoke in a way that made your head spin—soft groans and whispered praises against your core, each one sinking into you.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured. “So perfect, baby.”
You whimpered, biting down on your lip to stay quiet, but the pleasure was overwhelming. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as you trembled against him, your body betraying you, giving in to everything he was pulling from you.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair. “We—we can’t—”
His lips curved against you, amusement in his next words. “Then be quiet.”
But how could you? How could you when he was so relentless, when every stroke of his tongue made your breath hitch, made heat coil in your stomach until you were seconds away from breaking apart?
And then—a knock.
Your heart jumped into your throat. “Everything okay in there?” A voice—feminine and concerned. An employee.
Nicholas didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, dragging his hands up your legs, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth like he wanted to see you panic, like he loved the idea of you barely holding it together.
You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle a whimper as you forced out a breathy, “Y-yeah! Everything’s totally fine!”
The pause outside the door felt endless.
Then, finally—“Alright, just let me know if you need anything.”
Footsteps faded, and you sighed in relief, only to gasp as Nicholas gave you one last, devastating pass of his tongue.
That was it. That was all it took.
Your whole body tensed, shaking as the pleasure crashed over you, silent but all consuming. Nicholas held you through it, his hands steady, his mouth working you through the aftershocks until you were barely standing.
Only then did he finally pull away, his breath heavy, his lips slick and shining as he looked up at you with that signature smirk. His chin was soaked. And the worst part? He knew exactly what he had done to you.
“You should see yourself right now,” he murmured, dragging his thumb over his lips. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Your legs still felt weak, your head foggy, but couldn’t speak.
Nicholas carried your bags, all of them like it was nothing, his arms stacked high with luxury shopping bags as you both stepped outside. The flash of cameras caught your attention, a few paparazzi managing to snap some photos before security ushered them back.
You didn’t think much of it. You were too dazed, still floating from earlier, your legs still wobbly in your heels.
Nicholas opened the black car door for you, helping you in before tossing the bags into the trunk. Once he slid in beside you, he didn’t stop looking at you.
That smug, self satisfied look. “Stop it,” you said, narrowing your eyes.
“Stop what?” he smirked.
“Staring at me like that,” you pouted, crossing your arms. “It’s weird.”
His grin widened. “But I made you cum, didn’t I?”
Your whole body burned. “Mr. Chavez!” You smacked his arm before burying your face in his chest, muffling your groan of embarrassment.
He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “You’re too cute.”
You huffed, refusing to look at him. But the way he was holding you, stroking circles against your hip, made it impossible to be truly mad.
By the time you reached the mansion, you had regained some of your composure. Nicholas let you breathe, retreating to his own space while you packed away your new things.
You still couldn’t believe it. A rich, married man. Your rich, married man. It was wrong. And yet, here you were.
You were admiring a new diamond bracelet in the mirror when he appeared in your doorway, leaning against the frame with that same smirk.
“Pretty,” he murmured. “But not as pretty as you.”
“You’re such a flirt,” you said as you turned, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.
He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist. “Only for you, baby.”
Your breath hitched as he leaned in, tilting your chin up before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep, his tongue exploring your mouth.
You melted into it, hands sliding up his muscular chest, fingers curling into his shirt. He kissed you harder, guiding you back toward the bed, his hands slipping under your crop top, pushing it aside. You gasped as his lips trailed down your neck, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter by the second.
Clothes came off, piece by piece, heat building until you were naked beneath him, your body arching against his. And then—he stopped.
You blinked up at him, dazed. “Nicholas?”
He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Not like this,” he murmured.
You pouted. “But—”
He kissed you again, soft but firm. “I want your first time to be special,” he said, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Not rushed.”
Your heart was aching at how genuine he sounded. “But,” he smirked, “I can still make you feel good.”
Before you could respond, his hand slipped between your thighs, drawing out a gasp as he touched your pussy that was already dripping wet for him.
He took his time, watching every reaction, whispering sweet praises, coaxing you to the edge.
His finger thrusted inside your pussy, curling and finding your g spot as you moaned freely beneath him. Finally you didn’t have to worry about being caught.
He look at you, his eyes moving from your lips to your pussy gushing for him. “Those sweet moans. God, I can’t get enough of you.”
You pressed your forehead against his, grinding against his hand so his palm calm in contact with your clit.
“Good girl, now it’s time to cum for me,” he said, voice low and rough.
Your pussy clenched around him and you cried out, a release so intense it made you squirt all over his fingers. He held you close as you trembled, pressing kisses to your forehead.
By the time you came down, trembling and breathless, he was holding you close, stroking your back.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.
You sighed, melting into him, eyes fluttering shut as you fell into slumber.
The next morning came quicker than expected. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred slightly, still tangled in the sheets with the events of the previous night in your mind. Nicholas had slept in your bed and it was a wonder how he managed to keep his dick in his pants.
The Golden Globes was that night, and he was up early, making sure everything was in place. You, however, took your time getting ready, ensuring every detail of how you looked was perfect.
Just as you were slipping into your dress, a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Are you ready?” Nicholas called.
You took one last glance in the mirror before stepping forward and opening the door. Nicholas stopped breathing.
His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch, the dress hugging your figure perfectly, the way your makeup highlighted your best features, your hair perfectly curled, the effortless way you carried yourself.
“Sweetheart,” he exhaled. “You look—” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.
You gave him a twirl, the fabric of your dress catching the light just right. “You like it?”
“Like it?” He scoffed, stepping closer, his hand grazing your waist before he caught himself. “Sweetheart, I love it. You look absolutely breathtaking.”
His words made your body warm, but before you could reply, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”
With a small smile, you looped your arm through his, and together, you stepped out, ready for the night.
The moment you arrived at the Golden Globes, all eyes were on you. The flashes of cameras were overwhelming and reporters and photographers called out Nicholas’ name. But then, to your surprise, they started calling you too.
You instinctively held onto Nicholas’ arm, nerves creeping in. He felt it immediately, his hand covering yours, reassuringly.
“You’re doing great,” he murmured. “Just give them that beautiful smile.”
You did.
Together, you posed for pictures, his hand resting securely at your waist. But then, a few photographers started asking for solo shots. You hesitated, glancing at Nicholas.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly.
Taking a breath, you stepped forward. The photographers gushed over you, snapping pictures from every angle. Compliments came from all angles, how elegant you looked, how cute you and Nicholas were together. It was overwhelming, but Nicholas never took his eyes off you, standing just a step away.
Meanwhile, he was pulled into an interview, and of course, the questions about you came. “And who is this stunning young woman with you tonight?"
He laughed, his gaze flickering to you as you clutched his arm, still smiling.
“A very special woman,” he said vaguely. “She’s been my biggest supporter.”
Before they could press further, the ceremony began.
The night went on but nothing compared to the moment Nicholas’ name was announced as the winner for Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama.
The second it echoed through the hall, you both shot to your feet. His first instinct was to turn to you, his hands finding your waist, his face so close, his lips brushed yours before he remembered. His wife was watching.
He stopped himself just in time, but you didn’t care. You threw your arms around him instead, jumping up and down, screaming in excitement.
“You did it!” you squealed. “Mr. Chavez, you won!”
He hugged you tightly, holding onto you for a minute longer before he finally made his way to the stage. The applause was loud as he accepted his Golden Globe, his expression a mix of awe and gratitude.
“Wow,” he exhaled into the mic. “This—this means everything.”
He thanked his team, the cast, his family, his kids. And then—
“I want to thank a special woman,” he said, his voice steady. His eyes flickered to you.
You stilled.
“Yeah, you know who you are,” he continued, lips twitching into the smallest smile. “You were the one who pushed me to audition for this film. You told me the role was mine before I even believed it myself. Without you, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. You’re my biggest supporter.”
Your heart clenched.
Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you held them back, shaking your head in disbelief, hands clasped over your mouth.
The moment he stepped off stage, you were in his arms again, holding on tight.
As the ceremony wrapped up, you leaned into Nicholas, your hand slipping into his. “We should totally celebrate,” you whispered.
He smirked, holding up his award. “The best celebration?” he murmured, leaning closer, “would be with you in my arms.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
The car ride home was quiet and very intimate. Nicholas held his award in one hand, his other resting over yours. At one point, he lifted the Golden Globe, pressing a kiss to it before turning to you, brushing his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, reaching to straddle him, fingers threading through his hair, but the car stopped. You had arrived home.
He exhaled a laugh, his hands slipping to your waist as you both pulled away, breathless. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured.
Hand in hand, you stepped into the mansion like you were his wife. He had been gushing over you all night, and now was no different. He stopped you in the grand hallway, taking a moment just to admire you. “You have no idea how perfect you are, how perfect you look,” he murmured.
Then, he smirked. “I have a surprise for you.”
Curious, you followed him up the stairs, only to freeze at the sight. The entire staircase was lined with rose petals and pink flowers, leading up to his bedroom.
“Nicholas,” you gasped.
He pushed the door open, revealing the room filled with candlelight. Roses were scattered everywhere, the soft scent filling the air.
You turned to him, stunned. “Is this for me?”
His expression softened. “Of course, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands finding your waist. “You deserve it.”
Before you could say another word, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed.
“You’re unreal,” he whispered against your skin. “So beautiful. Flawless.”
His lips brushed your forehead, your cheek, your jaw and then finally, your lips.
And in that moment, you knew—he was in love.
Nicholas backed you toward the bed, his gaze dark. His hands were gentle as they trailed down your arms, fingertips going over your skin as if you were something precious.
“You have me at your mercy,” he murmured, voice low.
Your breath hitched as the backs of your knees met the edge of the mattress, and before you could fully process it, he was kneeling before you, his large hands smoothing over your thighs. His touch was savoring every inch of you, his lips pressing kisses along the path his fingers traced.
His hands found the hem of your dress, gathering it slowly, sliding it up your legs as his lips followed. A kiss at your knee, another at the inside of your thigh, each one sending a shiver through you. He held you firmly, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You’re perfect. So beautiful, so sweet, my perfect girl.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, a desperate attempt to hold onto something as his lips and touch gave you overwhelming pleasure. He hummed in approval, his hands spreading your legs, squeezing gently, savoring the feeling of you beneath him. His kisses against your pussy turned hungrier, his voice a quiet worship between them.
“So goddamn wet for me, you taste so good.”
You arched under his devotion as his tongue explored you and he took his time, as if memorizing you, drawing out every moan with precision that came with being with an older man. Every brush of his lips, every press of his thumb against your clit built, heightening the pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, gasping his name.
He didn’t stop. He soothed you through it, whispering how good you were, how proud he was, how no one else could ever make him feel the way you did. His hands caressed you, his touch never leaving you, even as you came down from the high he had so effortlessly brought you to.
When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were soaked with your juices. He tilted his head up, watching you with satisfaction, his lips ghosting over your inner thigh before pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. Then, rising slowly, he brushed his lips against your temple, then your cheek, before finally pressing a deep, slow kiss to your lips.
“Did that feel good, sweetheart?” he murmured against your mouth.
You could only nod, still lost in his touch.
He smiled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Good. Because I’d do it again and again if it meant seeing you like this.”
Nicholas held your gaze, his fingers replacing his mouth in your pussy, working slow thrusts as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
“Have to get this tight pussy ready for me, sweetheart,” he murmured.
His free hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking gently as his lips trailed over your chest. His finger curled inside your wetness as his thumb rubbed rough, but gentle circles on your throbbing clit, “You’re so good for me,” he praised, watching every reaction, every tremble. “My pretty girl.”
Your fingers dug into his arms, breath hitching as warmth built deep inside you. “Nicholas—” you whimpered, your body arching into his touch.
“That’s it, my love,” he coaxed, kissing you deeply, his hand never faltering. “Cum for me, I’ve got you.”
You could barely hold back, gripping his shoulders as your body responded to the deep strokes of his fingers, finally reaching an orgasm that had you gasping as you squirted all over his fingers. He knew exactly how to make you feel good.
“Taste yourself,” he murmured. You held on to his hand, sucking your juices off his fingers before you took them in deeper.
“So obedient,” he praising, rubbing his thumb on your lip. “What a fucking mouth.”
“And I know how to use it,” you said, finally speaking.
“Are you sure you want to, sweetheart? Tonight’s about you,” he retorted.
“Tonight’s about you too, we’re also celebrating, remember,” you pouted and that did it for him.
His gaze was fixed on you, as he shrugged his pants and the rest of his suit off. Your fingers brushed over him in all his glory, and his breath caught when you made contact. He was hard, long and full of girth, feeling weighty in your hand. The tip was pretty, pink and leaking, pre cum oozing and slowly dripping down his shaft. As you looked up at him through your lashes, you could tell by the look in his eyes how badly he wanted this, and that only made you want him more.
God, you were almost jealous. Victoria used to get that dick every night. But then your jealousy turned into pride—it was yours now. She was stupid to be neglecting him.
His hands wrapped in your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail. “Take your time, sweetheart.”
As you took him into your mouth, each motion drew out quiet sounds from him. You took him deeper and deeper, swirling your tongue as you did and using your hands to rub his bare thighs then to caress his balls.
“You look so beautiful,” he murmured. “Everything about you is perfect.”
His praises made your pussy throb and you started deep throating him, using as much tongue as you could to make it sloppy just the way you knew older men liked it.
“Sweetheart, if you keep taking me like that—fuck, I’m gonna cum, you’re so good at this.”
You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he moaned in response, his head tipping back.
He gently placed a hand on your cheek, caressing as your movements caused salvia and his pre cum to drip down your chin. You were a sight for sore eyes and he was ready to see you swallow his cum.
“H-holy fucking shit baby, I’m gonna cum down that throat,” he moaned, his voice breaking.
You took him as deep as you could, then gliding your mouth and your tongue across his shaft as you felt his warm cum shoot down your throat. You swallowed every drop and smiled up at him.
“Good girl,” he cooed, pulling you up to him, “I’m so proud of you.”
Nicholas stood in front of you, his hands gentle but firm as he carefully took off your dress, his gaze never straying from you. His eyes were filled with admiration, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t want to take off the beautiful dress you’d been wearing all night but you somehow looked even more beautiful underneath.
“You're absolutely stunning,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere. “I can’t even begin to explain how gorgeous you are.”
You felt your cheeks heat at his words, but his tone was so comforting and warm that any nervousness quickly faded. His hands were tender as they glided over your skin, slowly removing your undergarments from your body, piece by piece.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment, checking if you were still comfortable.
You nodded, feeling a sense of trust as he continued. “Yes, I'm okay.”
Nicholas took a deep breath, visibly trying to steady himself. He reached out and held your hand, squeezing it gently as he spoke again.
“I want you to know that this is all about you,” he said softly. “And I’m here with you every step of the way, okay? If you need a moment, we can stop. Just tell me.”
You nodded again, your heart fluttering, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort with his reassurances.
“This might be a bit uncomfortable at first and once again, if you want me to stop, let me know.”
He lined his raw, hard cock with your entrance, his movements slow and thoughtful, making sure everything was gentle. He kept his promise, holding your hand tightly and keeping his focus entirely on you.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. “You feel like Heaven.”
His thrusts stilled when he felt your barrier, and he slowly leaned down, your hand remaining in his as he kissed you softly. He pushed against the barrier and you bit down on your lip, the discomfort unmistakable but soon fading into immense pleasure. Your hot married boss was taking your virginity.
He rubbed your clit as he moved inside you, his thick cock only managing to go half way in, yet it felt so good. His muscles flexed as he was above you, his abs glistening under the candlelight.
He continued to check in with you, asking if you were okay, his affection unwavering. You felt safe, cherished, and respected as he made sure to only move forward when you gave him the go ahead each time he checked if you were fine.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You're taking me so well,” he murmured. “I knew you would.” His words and steady thrusts built you up and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. Your pussy clenched around his cock even tighter, your moans growing louder.
“I know baby, I know. Cum for me, cum on my cock,” he encouraged.
He pressed his forehead against yours, and your fingers dug deep into his back, leaving a trail of fire as an intense orgasm washed over you. Your legs shook and you cried out as you came, his touch comforting and grounding you through it all.
He caressed your cheek, moaning as a rush of liquid soaked his cock. “That’s it. Good girl.”
When your breathing slowed, he gently flipped you onto your stomach, his touch delicate as he continued thrusting slowly, tracing kisses along your shoulders and down your back. “You’re so beautiful, from this angle.”
His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements on his cock as the sensitivity made you feel the tension build again, his whispered words filling you with warmth and reassurance.
“Rub your clit for me, sweetheart” he panted, cock pulsing inside you.
Doing as you were told, you rubbed your clit, jolts of pleasure shooting through you. His thrusts increased but still gentle and each time he pulled out leaving only the tip in, his cock was covered in your cream and juices.
“Cum again for me, baby. Cum with me while I cum inside this perfect pussy,” he breathed. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”
With one final thrust, he groaned, a low and guttural sound—almost primal spilling inside you as you clenched down on his cock and squirted. You milked him of all he had, ropes of his hot cum lodged deep inside you. He stilled, tracing his fingers along your spine. “You have the most perfect ass,” he teased, making you smile as you both caught your breath.
The warmth of Nicholas’ embrace putting you on your back made reality slowly settle around. He held you close, his lips pressing against your forehead. His breath was still a little uneven, but his focus was entirely on you.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, tilting your chin so he could meet your gaze. His eyes were full of concern. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “That was amazing.”
Something in his expression softened even more and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb on your cheek. “You were perfect,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m honored you trusted me with this.”
The exhaustion was beginning to settle deep in your bones and Nicholas noticed immediately, shifting to sit up, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You’re tired, I’ll take care of you.”
Before you could protest, he had already lifted you into his arms, carrying you through the candlelit room and into the bathroom. The scent of roses was still in the air, mixing with the faint cherry aroma of the bath bomb he poured into the warm water. Steam came around you both as he stepped into the tub, settling in first before guiding you between his legs, your back resting against his chest.
His arms circled around your waist, holding you securely as the warmth of the water enveloped you. His lips brushed against your shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to your neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “And you did so good for me. I hope you know how much you mean to me.”
A deep warmth spread through your chest and you leaned into him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as he ran a washcloth over your skin with delicate care.
By the time he had you wrapped in a plush towel and carried you back to bed, sleep was already pulling at you. He slipped in beside you, tucking the covers over both of you before pulling you into his arms once more. His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, his fingers tracing light patterns along your spine.
“You mean the world to me,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your hair.
As sleep began to take you under, you barely registered his next words, soft, almost like a breath against your skin.
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