#catyaps

Before he met you, never in a million years would Arthur have described himself as a morning person. 

He’d much rather while away useful waking hours snoozing comfortably in his nice warm bed, waking up slowly rather than all at once, burrowing into the soft pillows and duvet and scrolling mindlessly on his phone until well into the morning. Then, when his stomach would inevitably start protesting, he’d haul himself up and trudge into the kitchen, fixing himself something simple and bolting it down before moving on to start his day. 

Since you, his morning had changed in a million tiny ways. 

For starters, he was no longer alone in his wide expanse of the bed. Your body lay next to him, warm and soft and messy with sleep - your cheek pressed into the pillow, hair fluffy from your movements throughout the night, and your mouth shaped into a cute little pout as you dreamed steadily onwards. The doomscrolling had also been replaced by your chest pressed against his, and your quiet whispers as you talked about your dream, something which Arthur regarded as being infinitely more interesting than his For You Page. Even his breakfast was different, too. When you’d arrived and seen the dire state of his kitchen cupboards and fridge, only the bare bones of protein meals knocking around in the drawers, you’d dragged him out to the shop without another word. Arthur swore he’d never seen so much colour in one fridge by the time you were finished unpacking. But, and he would readily admit it, he was healthier and far, far happier. 

So, somewhere along the way, he came to love mornings. He’d prepare for them, doing anything he could to extend the time he could have you wrapped in his arms, soft and sleepy and pliable. He’d fill up the water bottle you always kept by your bedside, arrange your makeup on the bathroom counter just right so you wouldn’t have to spend precious minutes searching for what you needed, and even make your admittedly extremely over complicated iced coffee and store it in the fridge so it was chilled just the way you liked it to have with your breakfast. All so he could spend as long as he liked with you in his arms, your head resting on his bicep and the other tracing shapes on the mattress as you basked in each other’s presence. He loved running his fingers through your hair in the morning, gently working out the knots that had formed overnight, revelling in the feeling of the soft strands on his fingers and the way you hummed happily, nudging your head forward to get him to keep going. 

Today was no different - the sunlight was filtering slowly through your curtains, casting golden squares of light across the expanse of your bedroom and the carpet, lighting up your morning as Arthur slowly blinked awake.

You were still fast asleep, your back turned to him as you snored softly, the sheet bunched up in the dip of your waist. Arthur smiled sleepily, turning over onto his side to better look at you, tucking one arm under his head. You were beautiful like this, he thought - all soft and warm, your face smooth and as yet unbothered by the burdens of the day, that little crease in between your eyebrows gone for once. Your sleep shirt (once his, now entirely yours), slipped off of your shoulder, exposing the elegant curve of your shoulder that rose and fell in time with your breath. The sunlight caught the honeyed strands of your hair as it fanned out over your shoulder, turning them a sweet golden colour that Arthur couldn’t resist reaching out and touching. You murmured slightly in your sleep, wriggling backwards until your back was nearly touching his chest, seeking out his touch even in your sleep. He humoured you, reaching out to gently wrap one arm around your waist and pulling you back to him, laughing quietly as you rustled around before settling back into his embrace with a contented sigh. 

Arthur’s eyes slid closed again, the comforting heat of your body against his lulling him back into sleepiness, and soon he was dropping off again too. It was still early morning, he had time, and so he had no qualms about hugging you tight to him as he drifted off, hands twitching sleepily against your clothed stomach. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up. The first thing he noticed was the heat. He was boiling. 

Your bodies were practically glued together, his chin tucked into the space between your shoulder and neck, arms wrapped tight around your waist, your back and his chest pressed flush against one another. Your shirt had ridden up in your sleep, your exposed waist and back sticking to his bare chest as he shifted around. Arthur groaned softly, moving to slide his arm out from underneath your head, flexing his fingers to work some feeling back into them as his gaze fell on your sleeping form once more. 

The second thing he noticed was that he was hard in his boxers. 

The sensitive head of his cock brushed against the fabric of his shorts as he moved back, shocking a gasp out of him. Morning wood wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it was unusual for him to be this hard. Before, when he’d woken up hard, he would slip off quietly to the bathroom or shower if he was alone to take care of it, not wanting to wake you up for something so trivial. A few times, you’d been awake first, and had offered your more than willing hand or mouth to help him out. He liked those mornings best, where he was able to paint your pretty face in his cum before the day had even started. It was one of his guilty pleasures, watching his cum drip down your face onto your lips, or to watch as you swallowed what he gave you with a cheeky smile on your face.

He dithered for a second, eyes darting from the tent in his boxers to your sleeping form and back again. The sight of your exposed waist made him throb harder, one hand snaking down to grip him through the fabric, his head tipping backwards in relief. He continued to palm himself as he looked you over, dragging his eyes from your messy hair down to where you’d now kicked the sheets off, exposing your plush thighs and sleep shorts - a barely-there piece of clothing, Arthur didn’t even know why you bothered wearing them in the first place. They did absolutely nothing to cover your ass, the gusset digging into the crack of your ass from your movements, the little ruffles covering any glimpse he might’ve gotten of your cunt. 

He stroked himself harder now, unable to stop himself. He shoved his fingers into his boxers and took himself into his hand, breath stuttering out as he moved his hand up and down slowly, rubbing his thumb over the tip where he could feel himself steadily leaking precum. Arthur groaned as you flipped onto your stomach, the peaks of your nipples hardening in the exposed air and pressing against your shirt. You were still asleep, mouth parted slightly and brow furrowed as you dreamt. In his state, Arthur briefly considered shoving his cock in between your lips and fucking himself along your slick mouth until he came. He blinked away the vision, though his cock twitched furiously with interest. 

You stirred again, your shirt riding up more and more until it rested just below your tits, the sight making Arthur’s mouth water. Your panties were also just barely visible - they weren’t fancy or the nice lace one he knew you owned, but that somehow made it hotter to him. The soft domesticity of the moment. Of you, here, in his bed, sleeping, looking like that, made him so hard he thought he might pass out. His hand was moving of its own accord, jerking himself roughly as he looked at you. His heart was pounding, blood rushing hotly through his body as he pleasured himself, a twist of shame and guilt curling low in his gut as he thought about what he was doing. Here he was, so hard it hurt, jerking himself off desperately to you who lay blissfully unaware. 

His cock twitched again, and he gripped the base of his cock tightly to stop himself from cumming. He couldn’t. He’d already gone too far, had done the moment his fingers had found their way past the waistband of his boxers. He really had to stop. He really should stop. 

He couldn’t stop. 

Before he could second guess himself and have a moral or existential crisis, Arthur was scooting forwards to close the gap between you, the hand not by your head coming down to push your sleep shorts to the side as he sunk two fingers into you. 

‘Fuck-‘ The whispered curse fell out of his mouth as he pushed inside of you, mouth dropping open in a groan as he felt you already wet for him. You felt like heaven wrapped around his fingers, cunt clenching slightly around the intrusion as he stroked gently against your walls. He crooked his fingers, locating that spot that had you seeing stars with practiced ease. You whimpered, brows furrowing in your sleep, but you didn’t wake. Part of Arthur wanted to see how far he could get with you before you woke up, but a bigger, needier part of him needed you to wake up. He wanted to see your pretty face, wanted to watch the way it contorted with pleasure when you came, wanted to hear that little involuntary whine that caught in your throat when you were close. 

He thrust his fingers more insistently now, needing you to wake up. The soft sounds of your slick filled the space, coating Arthur’s palm as he slid another finger inside you. 

‘Come on, lovey. Wake up f’me.’ He muttered, leaning down to rest his forehead on your shoulder as he fucked his fingers in and out of you. You whined more insistently now, cunt fluttering around the stretch. But still, you didn’t wake up. Arthur let out a frustrated noise, thrusting his fingers forward harshly. You moaned in your sleep, body twitching away from the intrusion. Arthur quickly pressed a flurry of kisses to your shoulder and the nape of your neck. 

‘Sorry, sorry, baby. That was mean, ‘m sorry. I won’t do it again.’ He murmured. You seemed to settle at that, some part of your subconscious soothed by his apologies. He fucked you slower now, taking time to stretch you out. He wasn’t big by any means, but you’d said before that taking him without any preparation was difficult, so now every time you two had sex, he made sure to take the time to stretch you out. Well, he said it was to get you ready for him, but really it was so he could watch you wriggle and whine, and sometimes if he was lucky, a few tears would slip down your cheeks as you begged for him. He just thought you looked so beautiful when your eyes were all sparkly with tears, he couldn’t help it. 

He continued like this for a while, his thumb joining the rest of his fingers to rub gently at your clit, causing a few sleepy whines to fall from your mouth, but your eyes stayed stubbornly closed. The wet sounds of your cunt sucking his fingers in started to get louder as you leaked steadily onto him, hips shifting involuntarily in time with his fingers as he fucked into you. Arthur angled his hips, thrusting forward experimentally and nearly moaning out loud when the tip of him bumped against your thigh. 

‘God, baby- please- wake up.’ He begged softly, rutting his hips firmer against your leg and gasping at the sensation. But, for all his patience, he wasn’t invincible. His cock was throbbing, the tip nearly purple and the rest an angry red in his desperation. 

Arthur pulled his fingers from you, pausing only for a moment to suck them into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Hurriedly, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and tugged your shorts down, moaning at the sight of a string of your slick connecting your cunt and your panties as he pulled them down to your ankles. He slid a hand under your thigh, turning you onto your side and lifting it up slightly as he angled the fat head of him against your hole. You stirred again, a bigger movement this time, and Arthur moaned as he caught on your entrance, the very tip of him slipping into your tight warmth. 

He gripped himself with one hand, guiding himself into you in one smooth thrust, your cunt thoroughly soaked after his ministrations. He moaned into your shoulder as he bottomed out, eyes rolling back into his head at the feeling of you around him. You clenched around him, still not fully awake but getting there now as he began to steadily thrust into you, panting softly into your neck as he rut into you with shallow little thrusts. 

‘Fuck, love, feel so good- so good for me- love you so much.’ He said into your skin, reaching around to grab at your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm and running his thumb over your nipple before pinching it and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You whined, a low, needy sound that had Arthur bucking into you, chasing your intoxicating warmth as you stirred, eyes fluttering quickly as you began to wake up. 

‘Arthur? What-‘ You said, cutting yourself off with a moan as Arthur fucked into you with a particularly deep grind, your back arching to push your ass flush against him. A guttural moan punched out of him, his hand gripping your chest for leverage as he ground his hips into you, cock nudging insistently at your sweet spot and making your head spin as you woke up fully, whimpering slightly at the feeling of waking up stuffed to the brim. 

‘Sorry- lovey, woke up hard- you just looked so pretty-‘ Arthur said through gritted teeth, thrusting into you desperately now as he chased his high, pleasure zipping through his whole body as your cunt sucked him in. You moaned at the sound of his voice, sleep-wrecked and gravelly with arousal, his breath hot on the shell of your ear as he fucked you. You pushed back to meet him as best you could, driving him deeper inside you and making you moan, the hazy pleasure coiling low in your cunt, your clit throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

You were panting now, the heat and humidity of your bodies so close together paired with the ragged pleasure of his cock inside you stealing your breath as you responded.

’’S fine, Arthur. I don’t- don’t mind- fuck- please-‘ You moaned, tipping your head back against his as you grabbed the hand resting on your chest and guided it down to your cunt. Arthur groaned into your hair as he caught on, fingers deftly moving under the waistband of your panties to rub at your clit. You keened when his fingers made contact, the rough pads drawing circles in a delicious friction in time with his thrusts. 

‘God- love you so much- so good for me, letting me do this-‘ Arthur said in between pants, nudging your thigh further up with his knee to give him a better angle to fuck into you deeper. You complied, sliding your leg up so your cunt was more exposed, your panties and shorts stretching around your calves as Arthur moved to fuck you properly. His cock slid in and out of you, easily lubricated by just how soaking wet you were from Arthur’s fingers as well as the whole idea of the situation - your body ran hot at the thought of Arthur waking up so needy for you that he just had to have you when you weren’t even awake, his body craving you and what you could give him. 

The thought had you clenching hard around him, causing Arthur to let out a loud moan, hips bucking forward to meet yours. The sounds of your skin slapping together and the rustle of the sheets filled the room, the rising sun spilling light onto the centre of your bed right where Arthur was fucking into you hard and fast. His cock throbbed insistently now - sweet, heady pleasure coursing through his veins as he pulled you back against him, his hand never stopping its movements on your clit, fingers wet with your slick as he spread it around in tight circles that had your eyes screwing shut and your heart racing. 

‘Ar-Arthur, gonna cum- please-‘ Your breath stuttered as you climbed higher and higher, pleasure turning sweet and sharp as you neared your orgasm. Arthur nodded shakily against your shoulder, thrusts speeding up ever so slightly, but his pace never faltering on your clit. Your breath caught as he fucked into you, fat cock splitting you open and hitting your sweet spot on every thrust and dragging against the sensitive walls of your cunt on every move out. 

‘Yeah, yeah- please, baby- need it-‘ Arthur replied, and you moaned at just how wrecked he sounded. His voice was completely gone, scratchy and raw with need as he rut against you like a dog in heat, chasing his orgasm and the feeling of your velvet cunt stretched around him. 

‘Shit, Arthur-‘ Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm hit you, the force knocking the wind out of you as you dug your fingernails into his arm and your back bowed, shoving your ass back against him to drive him as deep as possible inside you, his cock filling you completely as you came around him. The pressure was unbelievable - your soft cunt clenching around him, muscles spasming with the force of your orgasm, cunt fluttering around him and locking him in place. Arthur was ruined in seconds. 

‘Fuck- baby, gonna come inside you- ’s that okay? Fuck-‘ He said, desperately hoping you would say yes. He could think of nothing he wanted to do more right now than fill you up and watch his cum drip out of you - if he was lucky, you would let him take a picture, a souvenir for the next time you two were apart. His thrusts became sloppier as he neared his orgasm, and he held his breath, trying to hold off as best he could until you answered him. As needy as he was, the last thing he would ever do would be to disobey you and make you unhappy. 

Arthur wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he found himself thanking every deity he could think of as he watched you nod your head frantically, giving him the go-ahead. 

‘Shit- thank you, baby. So good to me- fuck - thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-‘ He rambled, grabbing at your hips and pulling you harder back into him as he buried himself in you over and over again. He thrust into you one final time, grinding his hips to bury himself to the hilt, as deep inside you as he could possibly get as his orgasm crashed over him. His cock pulsed inside you as he came, painting your cunt with his cum. Shocks of overstimulation danced up your spine, but you let Arthur have his fill of you, whimpering slightly as his shallow thrusts moved you up against the bedsheets. 

Eventually, he stopped, breathless now from the force of his orgasm. He stilled, cock still twitching inside you occasionally, and reached up to brush some hair out of your face. 

‘There’s my pretty girl.’ He said. You smiled tiredly, leaning forward to press a messy kiss to his lips. He met you easily, sliding his tongue against your lower lip. You opened up for him, and the two of you exchanged kisses like this for a while as you caught your breath. You moaned slightly at the taste of yourself on Arthur’s tongue, the evidence of his need before you’d woken up sending another bolt of heat through you. Arthur laughed slightly into your mouth as he felt you clench around him. 

‘Give me a minute, lovey. Then we can go again.’ He said. You rolled your eyes, leaning your head back against the pillows. Arthur reached down blindly to grip himself, gently pulling out of you with a groan. You lifted your leg, giving him a full view of your cunt that had begun to slowly leak his cum out onto the sheets below. 

‘God, look at that- so pretty.’ Arthur murmured. You laughed softly, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were tired, but satisfied, and the open love in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. 

‘Take a picture, Frederick, it’ll last longer.’ You said. The words were barely out of your mouth before Arthur was lunging for his phone on the nightstand, nearly taking his entire charger with him in his haste as he opened his camera. You heard the sound of his shutter once, twice, three times before you lowered your leg, a cramp beginning to crawl up the muscle. Arthur locked his phone, heart pounding in disbelief of his luck as he replaced his phone on the nightstand. 

‘You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days if you keep this up.’ He said, reaching out to grab you by the waist and pulling you back into him once more. You laughed again, turning over and reaching out to trace over the line of his jaw and the freckles dotted across his face. Arthur closed his eyes against the feeling, letting out a contented sigh as you continued to map his face. You hummed noncommittally, shifting closer to him until your knees were touching. 

‘Yeah, well. You like it, freak.’ You teased. Arthur gasped in mock offence, and you let out a shout as he suddenly grabbed you and rolled you onto your back. He swung his leg over to straddle you, his soft cock resting on your lower stomach as he pinned you down. His gaze locked with yours, and your heart stuttered at the heat you found there. He grabbed your legs, pushing them up momentarily before lowering you back down, his cock now nudging again at your still-leaking cunt. You stifled a moan as you felt him harden once more. 

Arthur just smirked down at you as he slowly pushed into you again, chuckling at the way your back arched at the slide of him as he buried himself in you again, your poor cunt twitching with overstimulation. 

Your head thumps back onto the expensive hotel sheets as Will all but throws you onto the bed. The impact forces a small giggle out of you, more at yourself than at him. Will just lifts his head to look at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile as he pushes you until you’re further onto the bed, with only your legs hanging off. 

‘Don’t laugh, darling. I can still take that back, you know.’ He says, nodding his head towards your hand, which is now pre-emptively balling up the sheets under your fingers. You follow his gaze until it lands on your ring, the one he gave you not an hour ago. It sparkles in the light of the hotel room, showing off each edge and sleek cut of the diamond so painstakingly set into the band. The weight of it is solid, as yet unfamiliar as you wiggle your fingers, marvelling at the way it shimmers and sends beads of light onto the ceiling. You draw your hand up to tuck it protectively against your chest, shaking your head. 

‘You wouldn’t dare.’ You reply, and Will huffs out a laugh at the teasing edge in your voice. You’re right, and he knows it. He wouldn’t dream of taking it away from you, not now. Not when you’ve only just promised to be his forever. 

In lieu of a response, Will dropped to his knees in front of you, hands automatically going to your feet to undo your shoes. His fingers were warm against your ankle as he carefully undid the straps before sliding off the heel and placing it neatly by the end of the bed. He did the same with the other shoe, giving your feet a quick squeeze to relieve the tension you’d been building in them over the last few hours as he did so. You rest your head against the sheets, looking up at the ceiling above you, a dazed smile on your face as Will took care of you. 

‘Well, aren’t you a gentleman.’ You teased, propping yourself up once again. Will just smiled up at you, not even blinking as he unashamedly reached under your dress to thumb at the flimsy lace of your panties. Your cheeks flamed as his gaze turned dark, his fingers pressing more insistently into your hips now, just barely curving over the hem of the fabric. He seemed almost hesitant, glancing up at you and back down at where his hands rested warm under your dress. Waiting, you realised. Waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. A bolt of heat rushed through you at that, settling nice and quickly at your core and adding to the slick you’d already accumulated there throughout the numerous kisses and touches you’d exchanged during his proposal and your subsequent dinner. 

You nodded silently, lifting your hips to allow him to drag your panties down to your ankles. His breath caught as you were left bare under your dress, clearing his throat against the sudden dryness he found there. You smiled, looking down at your fiancé. 

‘Mm, proper gentleman, me.’ He said, suddenly remembering his voice, tossing your panties to the side and scooting forward on his knees to get a better look at you. You watched him as he nudged your legs apart a fraction more, gaze falling heavy and already lust-blown on your cunt, still partially hidden under your dress. 

‘Fuck me, darling. So gorgeous. I’m so lucky.’ This last part rumbled out of him, almost as an afterthought as he ran his hands up and down your calves. Your throat tightened with affection, and you reached out one hand to run it through his hair, cradling his cheek. Will responded to your touch instantly, leaning into your palm and resting his cheek on your knee, looking up at you with wide eyes. You stroked his hair for a minute longer, just looking into his eyes. It wasn’t long until he broke though, your fiancé never one to be patient about anything. 

He turned his cheek and pressed a kiss to your knee, his stubble sending shivers down your spine as it scraped gently over the sensitive skin. He did it again, until he was pressing a hot trail of kisses up your thighs, tongue occasionally darting out to taste you with a barely stifled groan. Your stomach muscles trembled as he mouthed closer and closer to where you wanted him, nose nudging the soft folds of your cunt, just millimetres away from where you needed him most. 

‘Will- please.’ You said, voice breaking slightly as you pleaded with your fiancé. Will huffed, drawing back for a second, smirk only growing wider at the soft, needy noise that escaped you. 

‘Don’t beg, darling. You’re going to be my wife, so none of that. I’ll give you anything you ask for, but you just need to ask, okay? Use your words like a big girl, come on.’ He said, leaning forward and stopping just shy of your cunt. All he’d need to do was stick out his tongue or tilt his head down, and he’d make perfect contact with your aching clit. But no, he stayed torturously still, breath fanning over your heated, dripping core. 

‘Will, please- please- need your mouth.’ You whispered, desperation and shame thrumming through you as he inched closer. 

‘Need me t’do what with my mouth, love? Have to be specific.’ He said, voice rumbling out of his chest and dancing across your sensitive flesh as he spoke. You whined, bucking your hips forward in the hopes he got the message. He didn’t seem happy with that - his hands came up, big and rough, and pressed your hips firmly down into the mattress with a grunt. You weren’t going anywhere, it seemed, not until you gave him what he wanted. 

He wasn’t going to give up without a fight, that much was clear. You looked down at him, on his knees in front of you, entirely subservient yet somehow in control. He was a sight to behold - knees spread wide to accommodate the growing tent in his pants, eyes wide and predatory as they roved over you, a pretty pink blush spread over his cheeks, and his hands sitting far too chastely on your thighs. Those same hands that had oh so gently placed the ring now weighing down your left hand on your finger, that same mouth that had spoken a proposal so beautiful you’d almost ruined your makeup, now poised just shy of your ruin. Your resolve crumbled. 

‘Want you- want you to make me come, please. Please- Will.’ You finally muttered.

You could’ve sworn you felt him laugh. 

Any smart retort you would’ve said at his obvious amusement was cut short as he finally closed the distance and sealed his lips around your clit. A loud moan ripped from your throat, hips thrusting forwards instinctively to chase the pleasure. Will practically growled at your taste, pushing you back down into the mattress as he gripped your hips tighter now, pulling you towards him to lick into you deeper. 

He was everywhere. A few firm laps at your clit to send you spiralling, before obscenely sucking at your steadily leaking hole, drinking you in like he was starving. He ran his tongue obsessively up and down the seam of you, nose nudging at your clit every time he did so. You writhed under his touch, both hands coming up into his hair to push him down into you as you chased your high. 

‘Fuck- Will- right there, please-‘ You gasped out, clutching at his head, thighs squeezing probably too hard (though he barely seemed to notice as he ate you out like a man possessed). He doubled down, sucking hard on your clit and drawing inane patterns with the tip of his tongue that drove you crazy. He barely surfaced for breath before he was back down, licking and sucking and tasting and teasing every inch of your now completely soaked cunt like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Will shifted somehow closer, dragging your cunt flush to him until there wasn’t a single inch of space between the two of you, tilting his head slightly to better fuck his tongue into you. 

You cried out, back arching off the bed as your orgasm barrelled towards you, hips grinding into his face with fervour now. Will reached up blindly, clawing at your dress until it was pulled down enough that he could grope your tits, palming the soft flesh as he sucked on your clit so hard you saw stars. The sensitive peak of your nipple rubbed against his rough palms, sending shocks of pleasure through you. He pinched it, rolling it between his fingertips. You were letting out a constant stream of moans now, unable to stop under the onslaught of your fiancé’s tongue. 

‘Shit- Will, gonna come- please-‘ You stuttered out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came. Sparks popped behind your eyelids as you came the hardest you ever had, your entire body locking and your mouth dropping open with the sheer force of the orgasm. Will didn’t stop, sucking and licking at your sensitive cunt until you were trembling with overstimulation. 

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a second, waves of pleasure washing over you as you faintly felt the sensation of being moved backwards. You heard the distant rustle of clothing and a gentle hand pushing your legs further apart before suddenly, you were full - a hot, insistent pressure in your lower gut stuffing you to the brim.

You gasped, a stinging mixture of pain-pleasure bursting through your body as your back went ramrod straight. 

‘Fuck! Will- what-‘ You sobbed, hazy vision now coming into focus to see your fiancé above you, thrusting wildly into your drenched cunt. The blunt head of him nudged perfectly against your sweet spot, the harsh pleasure sending your nerves haywire as you bucked and squirmed under him. 

‘Sorry, darling. Just had to- had to get inside you- fuck. Gonna fill you up- gonna look so pretty one day, all full of me- shit- gonna be the best mother one day, I just know it-‘ He rambled, scrambling to grab your thigh and push it to your chest to fuck somehow deeper into you. You keened, spurred on by his words, so different to the future he’d promised you mere hours ago - his words now filthy and so, so earnest as he fucked into you with reckless abandon, as if he could will his words into existence through sheer brute force as he pounded into you. 

‘Fuck, Will- yes, please- want you to fill me up-‘ You egged him on, now eagerly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, one hand coming up to wrap around his neck to hold you up while the other cradled his cheek. You didn’t miss the way his eyes snagged on your engagement ring, the diamond sparkling in the low light of the hotel room. He turned his head slightly, never once stopping his thrusts as he pressed a kiss to your palm, then each of your fingers, sloppily taking the tips of them into his mouth. An idea came to your mind, and you pushed your fingers forward experimentally. Will groaned, accepting them willingly. 

You slid your ring and middle finger into his mouth, stopping just when the shiny silver of your ring met his plush lips. If anything, Will fucked you harder, whining and moaning around your fingers, sucking them and running his tongue over them like he had a cock in his mouth. 

‘Fuck, such a good boy, Will- such a good fiancé, couldn’t ask for anyone better-‘ You said, breathing heavily. That was Will’s undoing - that simple, honest statement, the affirmation that you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you.  

With a muffled shout around your fingers, Will buried himself impossibly deep inside you as his orgasm crashed over him. He throbbed insistently inside you as he spilled into you, jaw clenching and very nearly biting down on your fingers had you not had the foresight to remove them as soon as you felt his cock twitch inside you. Despite himself, he continued to rock forwards, seemingly unable to stop himself from chasing the heat and velvet feel of you. 

Your second orgasm was gentler, though nonetheless intense. Will fucked you through it, desperately grinding his hips forwards and sucking on the digits in his mouth, drool starting to spill out the corners of his mouth. 

Eventually, though, the subtle pleasure began to bleed into a raw sensitivity, and you gently laid a hand on Will’s shoulder, reluctantly pulling your spit-soaked fingers out his mouth. 

‘Will, love- hurts-‘ You said. That word seemed to snap him out of his daze, as he pulled out instantly, apologies tumbling from his mouth as he wiped it with the back of his hand. He tucked himself back into his trousers and set about cleaning you up, replacing your ruined panties safely on your hips and tugging your dress down to once again protect your modesty, reaching up to quickly tuck your exposed tits back into your (frankly ludicrously expensive) bra. You smiled up at him, distinctly aware of the slow trail of cum slowly oozing out of you and collecting in your underwear. You paid it no mind, instead tilting your hips up to stop it from leaking. 

Will furrowed his brow. ‘What’re you doing? You look daft doing that.’ 

You grinned. ‘Just making sure I don’t lose any. Gotta make sure it sticks, right?’ 

Will’s eyes fluttered closed with a hefty sigh. ‘Jesus, woman. Not even married yet and you’re already trying to kill me.’ He said. You laughed, wiggling your toes at him. He whipped you with the towel he was holding, causing you to yelp and gasp in mock-offence. 

‘William! That is no way to treat the future mother of your children.’ You said, though your cheeks hurt from smiling. He huffed out a laugh, tossing the towel aside and coming to lie down next to you on the bed, unashamedly smacking your ass as he did so. 

You’d known this moment was coming from the moment you’d said I do.

Will’s hands were gentle as he helped you into your room, holding your skirts up carefully so you didn’t trip. He’d insisted on coming back home after the reception, wanting to properly celebrate your marriage in the place where there was absolutely no chance of distraction. He’d insisted on carrying you across the threshold into your house as you entered for the first time as a married couple, strong arms holding you tight as you entered into the next chapter of your life - together, as always. 

You barely had time to catch your breath in between the hot, insistent kisses he pressed against your mouth, as if he couldn’t bear to spend even a second away from you. His teeth dug into your bottom lip in sharp little nips that had you gasping as his hands ran boldly up and down your waist, fumbling with the zipper of your dress. 

‘This fuckin’ thing- looks gorgeous, but fuck- if I don’t get you out of this in the next five seconds I’m gonna lose it.’ He muttered against your lips, brows furrowing. You laughed breathlessly, reaching around to help him. The zip slid smoothly downwards, your dress falling to the floor with a whisper until you were left nearly nude in front of your husband. He disconnected your lips for a moment to take in what you were left in, and you could practically see the moment all restraint dissolved in him as he took in what you’d been wearing under your dress the entire day. His eyes went wide, cock stirring to life in his dress trousers as his gaze travelled down your body. 

You’d picked out this set specially - white, of course, to match your dress - the lace so delicate it left basically nothing to the imagination where it covered your tits, pushing them together ever so slightly to create a fullness that had Will’s head spinning, especially as he caught sight of your matching panties. The white lace hugged the curve of your hips and ass, showing off the perfect pink of your cunt, the material all but see through from your arousal as you stood in front of him. And, to complete his ruin, the garter wrapped around your thigh. 

Like he couldn’t help himself, he drifted forwards until his hands came to rest on your waist, thumbs just barely ghosting over the lace edge of your panties. The cold metal of his wedding ring pressed against your heated skin, causing your breath to hitch as your husband lifted his head to meet your gaze. 

‘You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. God-’ He whispered, voice low and reverent, cutting himself off with a breathy sigh as he ran his hands slowly up your body. You let out a slow breath as his hands came up to your tits, thumbs brushing gently over the hardening peaks of your nipples. Will’s hands trembled slightly as they ran over your collarbone and shoulders until they came up to cup your jaw. You raised your eyebrows slightly, prompting him to finish what he’d swallowed down. He let out a shaky breath, his thumbs brushing gently over the apples of your cheeks. 

‘I want to fucking ruin you.’ 

A hot pulse of need shot through you at the words, his voice gravelly and thick with arousal, pupils blown and fixed entirely on you. Your stomach fluttered, heart doing a flip in your chest as you squeezed your thighs together. Your hands came up to rest on his wrists, holding him loosely as you replied. 

‘So do it, then. I’m yours, Will.’ You breathed. Will’s eyes fluttered shut, head tipping forward to rest his forehead against yours. You backed up slowly until you could lie down on the bed, keeping a firm hold on your husband to pull him down on top of you. 

‘Jesus- fuck. You’d better mean that, because I can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you.’ He muttered, lifting his head and beginning a slow line up the curve of your stomach and above your tits, occasionally licking a hot stripe over the skin or sinking in his teeth in sharp little nips that had you whining breathlessly. Your chest heaved under the assault of his mouth, especially as he moved on to your lace-clad tits, sliding the straps down your shoulders until they came free of the garment. 

‘I mean it. I remember what you said- fuck- when we got engaged. You told me to wait for our wedding night. I’m ready, Will. I want you.’ You said through moans as he massaged your tits, teeth digging into the soft flesh as he took a nipple into his mouth. Your hand came up to tangle in his hair, nails scratching lightly over his scalp as you held him steady. Will groaned into you at the memory of that night, humming his assent at the promise he’d given you all those months ago. 

Almost as soon as you’d given your consent, Will was kissing insistently down your body until he reached the edge of your panties. You nodded, lifting your hips up to encourage him. You were expecting him to reach up to slide them off like he’d done before, maybe stuff them into his pocket for later like he’d done a few times in your relationship. What you were not expecting was for your husband to take the lace in between his teeth and start to drag it down your legs. His teeth scraped gently against your legs as he made his way down, the slight pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. 

The sight forced a moan out of you as he lowered himself onto his knees before you, dropping the lace and pulling it fully off before he was settling in between your legs. His hands rest on your upper thighs, wedding ring glinting in the light of the moon that poured through the window. 

The sight in front of you was familiar as he surged forward, dragging his tongue along the seam of you, collecting your slick before spreading it around your clit in a messy circle. Your hands gripped the pillows beneath you, hips canting up to grind against his face, a moan bubbling up out of you as his nose nudged your clit. He didn’t waste any time, his tongue dipping shamelessly into your hole and fucking quickly in and out of you as he feasted on you, pressing forward to lick into you deeper. He was messy with spit and slick as he made out with your cunt, your wetness spreading across his stubble and dripping down onto the sheets below as he wrapped his hands around your thighs to hold you to him as he began to move his head up and down. 

His eyes slid shut, and you groaned at the sight of him blissed out between your thighs. Will was fairly certain that he could spend every hour of the day in between your thighs, just lapping at you and tasting you on his tongue. He wouldn’t even have to make you cum, content to just play with your cunt for hours on end, fucking his fingers in and out of you and seeing how many you could take, or teasing you with slow, controlled licks to your sensitive clit until you were crying beneath him. 

It didn’t take much to bring you to the edge, not when Will was feasting on you like you were water in the desert. His tongue flicked insistently against your throbbing clit, drawing tight circles on the flesh before trailing down to suck at your soaked hole. Your hands gripped the headboard, the wood groaning under your grip as your hips ground against his face, thighs clenching tight around his head as you came with a broken curse. Will licked you through it, not wanting to let any go to waste as he cleaned you up until you were whining, legs twitching with overstimulation. 

He pulled back reluctantly, settling back on his haunches as he gazed up at you. His chin and mouth glistened with your slick, and your gaze travelled down to where you could still see your garter clutched resolutely in his hand, the lace stark white against the flushed skin. 

You could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he slowly palmed the elastic. 

He stood suddenly, lace clutched tight in his hands as he stepped between your spread legs. You watched as he reached for your hands, gathering both of your wrists in his large hand as he wrapped the elastic around them, effectively binding them together. You whimpered slightly as he pressed a kiss to them before letting them drop back onto the bed. 

‘Above your head f’me, pet. Keep them there.’ He murmured softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. When you hesitated, he just raised an eyebrow at you, keeping eye contact as he undid his cufflinks and started to roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. You swallowed thickly, raising your bound hands above your head and gripping onto the pillow behind you. 

‘Good girl. Now, I have a surprise for you, d’you wanna see?’ He asked, switching to roll up the other sleeve. Your mouth watered at the sight of his exposed forearms, the veins in his hands standing out in the low light and accentuated by the ring on his left hand in a way that had your thighs twitching, desperate to clench together to give you the friction you so desperately craved. You nodded slowly, blinking owlishly in the dim. light as Will crossed over to the other side of the room. He opened up the wardrobe, retrieving a small box from the top shelf before returning back to the foot of the bed. You watched as he opened the box, a sleek, black thing, and pulled out a little gift bag. He held this up for you so you could see it, turning it this way and that. 

‘Any guesses?’ He asked. You tilted your head, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. Will huffed out a laugh, coming to kneel between your legs on the edge of the bed. He reached into the bag and pulled something out, your heat stuttering in your chest when you saw what it was. 

A vibrator. 

A small, bullet-type little thing in your favourite colour, an array of buttons lining the top. Your cunt clenched around nothing, leaking and desperate to try it. 

‘I wanted to save this for a special occasion. Now seems as good a time as any, right?’ Will mused, bringing his hands down to rest on your waist. Your muscles twitched at the unfamiliar weight of the vibrator, hips shifting instinctively to guide it to where you knew you wanted it. Will pressed your hips back down into the mattress, pinning you so you couldn’t move. 

‘Ah, ah. None of that. Be good for me, yeah?’ Will said, clicking his tongue at your disobedience. You wet your lips, mouth suddenly very dry at his lilting tone. You kept as still as he could as he traced the toy over your hipbones and the sensitive skin of your lower stomach. You moaned in surprise when he suddenly turned it on, the powerful vibrations rippling through your body. He watched your every move as he dragged it up your body, taking note of the way your muscles twitched with restraint as he dragged it across your sternum and up between your tits. 

Your breath trembled as he dragged the toy across your chest, circling your nipples gently before pressing down. Your back arched off the bed as you instinctively chased the sensation, sweet pleasure coursing through your body as the vibrations shuddered through you. Will just smiled, increasing the intensity and watching as your mouth dropped open as you squirmed helplessly. He moved to the other side, repeating the same action and marvelling at the way you fought so hard to keep your hands where they were, even in your lust-addled state obedient to him. 

‘Good?’ He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You nodded quickly, gazing up at him from where you lay on the bed. Will’s cock twitched at how fucked out you already looked, your eyes wide and glassy with pleasure as your breath came in quick little pants as he held the vibrator on your chest. 

’So pretty for me, darling. Can’t believe you’re all mine.’ He said, dragging the toy down your body until it rested just above where you needed him the most. A whine slipped from your throat as you felt the vibrations near your aching clit, the force of them enough to send waves of pleasure through your body even without direct contact. 

’That’s right, yeah? All mine?’ He asked, dragging the vibrator closer to your clit, the tip of it just barely ghosting over the top of your drenched slit. A broken moan escaped you as you nodded again, hands fisting in the sheets in an attempt to stop yourself from reaching down and grabbing the damn thing yourself to finally give you the pleasure you were craving. 

‘Answer me, or I stop.’ He said, voice suddenly hard and unforgiving as he reached up to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were stormy, but the blown pupils and slightly parted lips gave away just how much he was enjoying this. 

‘Yes, all yours Will. Always- fuck-’ Your breathless words were cut off suddenly as Will moved, pressing the vibrator directly onto your clit, causing a loud moan to punch out of you as intense pleasure flooded your entire body. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the sheer intensity of the feeling, the toy pounding against your sensitive cunt with no mercy as Will pressed it into you. You could feel yourself steadily leaking onto the sheets below you, your soaked cunt squelching obscenely as Will drew the toy up and down your slit, the vibrations shuddering throughout your entire body. 

‘Fuck, look at you. Already ruined, and I’ve barely even touched you.’ Will said, one hand drifting down to palm himself through his trousers as he watched you go completely boneless. Your knuckles were white where you were gripping the pillow, hands still bound together with the garter, the elastic digging into the delicate skin. Your hair floated out of its updo in wisps, sticking to your forehead as sweat beaded at your hairline from the exertion. He drew his gaze along the exposed column of your throat that bobbed with every shaking swallow you tried against the saliva collecting in your mouth that occasionally dripped down your chin. He palmed himself more roughly now, gripping the shape of him through the material of his dress pants, internally cursing himself for choosing to wear the damned things.

You’d insisted that he had, and who was he to deny you anything on your special day? Getting dressed without you had been torture - not being able to see your soft form as you pottered around the room to pick out the clothes you wanted, not being able to press a kiss to your shoulder as he passed you in the bathroom. Not being able to do any of the things he loved, all for you. Now he had you forever - forever his to spread out on the bed, forever his to cherish and love, forever his to fuck full of his cum and watch grow as you carried his children. 

The thought sent a bolt of heat through him, and he gripped himself roughly, the harsh pleasure sending him reeling. He moved the toy in circles, drawing circles on your clit in time with his fist as he stroked himself through his trousers. Your thighs began to tremble as you neared your orgasm, stomach muscles convulsing as you fought against the onslaught of pleasure. Will slid the toy down your dripping slit, fucking the tip of it into your cunt and watching as your hips canted up to meet him with desperate little thrusts, urging the thing deeper inside you. He smirked to himself, teasing it around the edge of your hole as you whined mournfully, the sound sending a hot flush of pleasure directly to his cock. 

‘Will- please- Need you.’ You gasped out, frantically wriggling your hips in a desperate attempt to get him to slide the toy deeper inside you, to feel those delicious vibrations against that spot inside you, to scratch the itch that had been slowly building ever since you’d walked out of that church hand in hand. Will just tutted at you, and before you could blink, his hand came cracking down on your thigh. A searing pain spread across the skin in an instant, causing you to yelp and instinctively move away from the sensation. A rough palm on your hip gave you a silent warning as he tugged you back into place, your husband’s eyes stormy now as he fixed you with a glare. 

‘What did I tell you before, darling? No begging. You’re my wife now, so if you want me, all you need to do is ask.’ He said through gritted teeth, pressing the vibrator more harshly against your clit, and pouring cruelly as you struggled to get any words out. 

‘’M sorry, ‘m sorry. Please- please just fuck me. Need you so bad, please- fuck-’ You said through moans, especially as your eyes dropped to where he was palming himself steadily over his trousers. You longed to reach down and take him into your hand and stroke over him until he was a moaning mess, but you kept your word and your hands stayed resolutely where they were, fisted in the sheets of your shared bed. 

‘Hm, greedy thing. ’S this not enough for you? You want my cock too?” He asked, the hand that had been working himself coming up to undo his belt, deftly working the buckle and drawing the leather out in a gesture that made your cunt throb embarrassingly hard. You shook your head, feeling tears beginning to form on your waterline as your cunt desperately clenched down on nothing, the emptiness too much and not enough at the same time. 

‘Yes, yes- please. Need you so bad.’ You said, and Will’s breath punched out of him at the edge of a sob that he caught in your tone, his eyes flicking to your face. Heat rolled through him as he caught sight of the fat tears that were now rolling down your cheeks, tracking lines over your flushed cheeks and glistening gin the moonlight. His cock throbbed in his grip as he freed himself from his boxes, giving himself a few long strokes, spreading the precum that had been steadily gathering at the tip down the flushed length as he lined himself up at your slick hole, dragging the tip of him up and down a few times to collect as much as your slick as possible as he could. 

‘Poor girl. All needy for me, getting all worked up from a little toy. But you need me, don’t you? Need me to make you cum? Yeah?’ He asked, fucking the tip of him into in shallow little thrusts that had choked moans spilling from your mouth, the vibrator never stopping its maddening little circles on your clit and effectively robbing you of your ability to speak. You just nodded, lifting your hips in an attempt to take more of him into you. 

You quickly realised this was the wrong thing to do when Will let out a growl and suddenly pushed forward, shoving his whole length inside you in one cruel thrust. Your back arched against the sudden fullness, your orgasm exploding over you as the sensations of the stretch and the powerful vibrations still thundering down on your clit became too much. 

‘Fuck-!’ The curse tore from your throat in a choked-off scream, your cunt clenching down on the cock inside you. Will hissed in response, grabbing at your hip with his free hand and holding you there as he began to thrust in and out of you, setting a pace that had stars bursting behind your eyes as the pleasure melted from intense pleasure to painful overstimulation. The vibrator now lay discarded next to your thigh, the toy wet with your slick.

Will's cock bullied into you, forcing you to stretch around and accommodate his thick length as he fucked into you, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you where he wanted you. He watched as your tits bounced in time with his thrusts, and he couldn't resist reaching up to pinch your nipple in between his fingers, the gesture causing you to clench around him and moan loudly. He smirked to himself as he felt you gush around him, your cunt finally getting used to the rough treatment. Your thighs squeezed around his waist, and he caught the way your hips still moved back to meet his thrusts.

You wanted him deeper, harder. You wanted more.

You moaned in confusion and pleasure as you felt Will manhandling you, flipping you over and pulling you up until you were face down in the sheets with your back arched, ass pressed flush against his crotch as he started to drive into you once more. 

‘Jesus, darling- so fuckin’ easy. Didn’t even fuck you and you came- shit- so needy for me, aren’t you?.’ He said, gripping your ass harshly as he bounced you on his cock, thrusting his hips forward to meet you halfway in thrusts that drove him deep inside of you. You swore you could feel him in your throat as he fucked into you, the tip of him nudging insistently at that spongy spot inside you and his heavy balls slapping your poor clit on every forward movement of his hips. 

Will reached down, fisting one hand in your hair and gripping tightly as he lifted your head from the pillows, pulling you up until your back was nearly at his chest. He let out a groan as you clenched around him, the velvet heat of your cunt like a drug to him as he continued to fuck into you. His hips slammed into yours with every brutal thrust forward, carving a place for himself inside you as his cock shoved repeatedly into you, the tip kissing your cervix in a bruising rhythm that had your eyes rollin back into your head. 

For all the words he was throwing your way about being needy, he really wasn’t any better himself - his thrusts were just barely controlled, his breath coming in short bursts as he desperately chased the heat of you. HIs cock twitched and throbbed uncontrollably inside you, the feeling of you stretched and wrapped around him almost too much to bear. He was drunk on you. On your scent, the way you tasted as his tongue darted out to taste the tears rolling down your cheeks, the way you smelled, a perfect mixture of sweat, sex and your own intoxicating perfume that had always been his kryptonite. He buried his nose in the space behind your ear, little grunts and groans finding their way out of him as he chased his high. 

‘Fuck- so perfect for me, darling. Love you- love you so much. Mine- my wife-’ He said, words spilling freely as he felt his orgasm approaching, thrusts getting sloppier as his pelvis smacked against your ass in messy thrusts. You moaned in response, fucking your hips back onto him faster now as you felt his rhythm falter. 

‘Love you- fuck-’ The words were slurred and half formed, but Will felt his heart flutter all the same as you babbled your agreement. His eyes slid shut, the memories of the day flashing across his mind as he continued to thrust into you, the rush of blood deafening in his ears as his blood pulsed hotly through his body. You in your dress, walking down the aisle towards him. His hands in yours and yours in his as you slid the rings onto each other’s fingers. His vows, your vows, where you’d promised to love and cherish each other until the day you died. 

It felt like your entire world had narrowed to the place where you and Will connected, the slick sounds of your cunt obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom. The metal of Will’s wedding band felt like it was burning into your skin where he clutched desperately at your waist, his forehead against the back of your head where he was holding you upright.

‘Fuck, darling- gonna cum. Shit- need you to say it- please, please-’ He said against your ear, voice gravelly and thick with arousal and desperation. Your brow furrowed, mouth dropping as he shifted his hips and fucked into you deeper, battering your sweet spot with every thrust that had you keening in response. 

‘Come on, baby. You can do it- say ‘I take you, Will-’’ He panted against your ear, letting go of your hair to grab your chin instead, turning your head so you were looking him in the eye. You clenched involuntarily at the sight of him - pupils blown, hair a mess, a pretty flush painting both of his cheeks, his dress shirt rumpled and damp with sweat. He looked ruined. 

‘Please, darling. Just need- need to hear you say it.’ He was the one begging now, none of his earlier reservations about the act present as he gazed into your eyes, the stormy blue full of nothing but pure love and devotion as he started to near his orgasm. 

‘I-I take you, Will- fuck- to be my husband-’ You moaned out, eyes fluttering shut as a growl rumbled out of him, his grip tightening on your waist and chin. Your bound hands flexed uselessly, every nerve in your body screaming at you to touch him, hold him, reassure him that you were never leaving. 

‘Fuck- thank you, thank you- thank you. Shit- darling, gonna cum. Gonna fill you up- gonna start a family with you, make you mine for real this time-’ He stuttered out, driving his cock deep inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt as his orgasm finally crashed over him. His grip was a vice on your hip as he buried himself inside you, and you moaned again as you felt your third orgasm of the night wash over you, gentler this time as Will’s cock twitched inside you, painting your cunt with his cum. 

He held you close to him as you both came down from your highs, not pulling out despite his cock softening inside you. He pressed little kisses behind your ear, smiling against the skin when you laughed weakly. Will’s fingers came up to brush through your hair, detangling the knots he’d created and rescuing the pins that had come loose during your activities before slowly lowering you down to rest on your stomach as he pulled out. 

You watched as he shuffled around the room, clearly looking for something. 

‘What’re you doing?’ You asked, coughing slightly against the roughness in your throat. Will just hummed, seizing something off the ground and returning to stand in between your legs. 

‘Just making sure.’ He replied. You opened your mouth to question him, but it snapped shut when you felt the telltale scrape of lace against your legs. 

Will dragged your panties back up your legs, settling them neatly on your hips, nice and high so the gusset pressed up against your hole that was starting to drip cum and slick. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t deny the little flash of heat that fluttered through you as he gave your ass an affectionate pat. 

‘You’re impossible.” You said. Will just shrugged, padding into your adjoining bathroom, and soon you heard the sound of water pounding into the bath, and the smell of your favourite body wash. You smiled into the sheets, heart giving a traitorous little flip. After all this time, and he was still finding little ways to make you blush like a schoolgirl. 

‘Maybe, but you’re the idiot who married me.’ He said, bending down slightly to gather you into his arms. You rolled your eyes again, but the gesture was fond as you pressed an accompanying kiss to his cheek as he carried you into the bathroom. 

‘Maybe. But you’re the idiot who asked.’ 

Dating Harry Lewis was, as far as you were concerned, a dream come true. 

He was funny, thoughtful, kind, gentle, and absolutely gorgeous. You’d been together nearly six months now, and you still got butterflies whenever you looked at him, like a schoolgirl with a crush. Not that you could help it, of course. Harry was, in your opinion, your dream man. 

Sandy blonde hair with sparse hints of grey forming at his temples and roots, creating a salt-and-pepper look that made your stomach flip, the clearest, prettiest blue eyes you’d ever seen complimented by perfect little crows feet on either side, and the softest, kindest mouth imaginable. He was tall, too. Big and broad yet impossibly gentle - his hands always polite yet firm when holding your hand or guiding you through the streets, his chest warm and sturdy beneath you as you lay curled up together on the sofa or in bed. 

He was truly the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for. He took you out on dates, remembered the little things you mentioned liking in passing, knew all your favourite foods off by heart and would routinely surprise you with them if you’d texted him telling him you’d had a bad day. He bought you flowers ‘just because’, insisted on paying whenever you went out no matter what you ordered, and to top it all off, was probably the best kisser you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

Of course, you gave back in return, though not quite to the same extent, still being saddled with student loans and all, but you tried. You made him things instead. Little bracelets, charms, tokens for him to take to shoots with him. Even, once, on your anniversary, a custom-made football jersey with his name painstakingly stitched in the back. You’d presented it to him almost shyly, painfully aware of the crude edges of the tissue paper it was wrapped in and the smudged, looping curls of your handwriting depicting his name. But Harry had held it in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world, unwrapping it ever so gently. He took his time to look over it, running his fingers over the delicate stitching, before unceremoniously launching himself at you. Despite his age, Harry seemed almost boyish when with you, especially when he pinned you down and peppered thankful kisses across your entire face like an over-eager puppy. So yeah, your life was pretty good. 

Except, that is, for the ever more pressing issue that had begun to rear its head with every passing day. Sex. 

You and Harry hadn’t exactly been chaste with each other, far from it. The day he’d asked you out, you’d climbed into his lap then and there and kissed him breathless, an encounter that had ended with your hand shoved down his pants until he came all over you and his favourite pair of sweatpants. 

But that was as far as your ‘escapades’ had gotten. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. It seemed that the universe just had it out for the two of you, because whenever things would start to get heated, when Harry would start trailing featherlight kissed down your jaw and neck, his phone would inevitably ring, or someone would knock on your door, or your cat that you’d adopted would decide that now was a good time to jump up and demand your undivided attention. 

Harry, to his credit, didn’t seem to mind. He took it all in his stride, heaving himself up to answer the phone with a quick, apologetic kiss pressed to your hair, or heaving a sigh before drawing your cat into his arms to scratch behind his ears to silence the plaintive meows grating on your eardrums. And it didn’t bother you at first, not really. It was still early doors in your relationship, you were still figuring out how to exist together. It didn’t have to happen immediately, no matter how much you wanted it to. 

But after a while, things began to build up. You started to worry - what if it never did? What if Harry wasn’t initiating because he didn’t find you attractive? What if he wanted someone his own age, and just didn’t know how to break it to you? What if he wanted someone more experienced? The worries circled your mind like a swarm of angry bees, anxiety buzzing insistently beneath your skin. And so, almost unconsciously, you began to pull away. 

It started small - you went to bed before Harry, ensuring you’d be asleep by the time he eventually dragged himself to bed after editing. You’d forgo the little silk slips you’d become accustomed to sleeping in, choosing instead a ratty shirt and a pair of your joggers that had definitely seen better days. You started sitting on the opposite end of the couch to him instead of tucked against his side like you normally would, afraid that if you got too close, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from doing something embarrassing. Harry noticed, of course, but he didn’t push it, ever the gentleman. So it went for another month or so. 

But of course, every man has his breaking point, and it seemed that today was Harry’s. 

You’d just come in from a gym session, bag slung on your back and headphones around your neck. Harry was out at a shoot, and wasn’t due home until later. You figured you’d use the time to have a nice long shower, something that had always helped calm you down. Humming softly to yourself, you deposited your shoes and keys in their rightful places before heading to yours and Harry’s ensuite. The sight of his neatly folded pyjamas on his side of the bed made your heart clench. You’d gotten on him a few weeks ago about his messiness, namely his habit of leaving clothes all over the place - you’d put your foot down after tripping over the same blue shirt for the third time in two days. He’d apologised, promised to do better. And clearly, he had. 

You tore your eyes away from it, ducking into the bathroom, freeing your hair from its ponytail with a satisfied groan. You worked your fingers through the sweaty strands as you turned the shower on, letting steam fill the bathroom as you quickly undressed. The feeling of the hot spray on your sore muscles was a godsend, and you felt your mind fall blissfully quiet of worry as you let yourself get lost in an all-too-familiar rhythm. 

Unfortunately, the combination of the heat and feeling of the water cascading over your body didn’t keep your mind clear for as long as you’d hoped. Inevitably, when you were alone, your thoughts would wander towards your boyfriend. Most of the time, it was innocent - thinking about a cute interaction you’d had earlier in the day, the last time he made you laugh, what he was up to at that moment, stuff like that. But, more recently than ever, your thoughts had taken a more…..suggestive route. You couldn’t help but think what it’d be like if you decided to just say ‘fuck it’, and drag Harry into bed with you. You wondered if he’d be the same in bed as he was in everyday life, all soft and sweet, maybe a little silly. You wondered how his hands would feel on your bare skin, his big hands running gently over your tits and down, down, down towards your cunt, how his fingers would feel inside you, curling just so to hit that spot inside you-

Your eyes flew open, breath coming in short bursts under the water, colour rising in your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you moved to stand under the spray, trying your best to ignore the heat and slickness mixing with the soap and water between your legs. However, your wonder of a brain didn’t seem to understand that you were trying to move on from that little fantasy, rather unhelpfully supplying images of Harry pressing you against the tile and fucking into you hard and fast, hands at your waist or reaching forward to grab at your tits, Harry pulling you onto the bed and making you ride him, guiding you up and down while whispering filth into your ear-

Almost of its own accord, one of your traitorous hands slipped between your legs, dragging two fingers through your slick and spreading it over your clit. You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes against the sensation, giving into the pleasure as you moved your hands in a quick, practiced rhythm, the pounding of the water lulling you into a haze as you lost yourself in the movements. 

So much was your distraction that you didn’t hear the front door open and close, or Harry’s voice calling out to you. 

Harry dropped his keys in the box, calling out for you once more. You were definitely home, if your discarded trainers and keychain with the pink pom-pom on it were anything to go by. He wandered through the house, following the distant sound of running water he could hear until he came to your bedroom. The bathroom door was half-open, steam curling out in whispers into the adjoining room. He could see your gym gear discarded on the floor, and he smiled to himself. He’d been trying to get you to exercise more over the past few months, not because you were unattractive, not by a long shot, but because he knew you had a tendency to complain without ever actually doing anything about it. So, he’d proposed a dance fit class for you, and you’d surprisingly taken to it remarkably well. He made a mental note to congratulate you on that later. Right now, he was more concerned about what he could hear on top of the shower, the noise soft and almost inaudible, but unmistakably there. 

Probably against his better judgement as a self-proclaimed ‘gentleman’, he pushed the door open a fraction, just enough to peek inside. 

The sight knocked the air clean out of his lungs. 

You, pressed against the wall of the shower, hair wet and clinging to your neck and shoulders in little waves, your eyes screwed shut, and…..holy shit, Harry was going to faint. 

Your hand, between your legs, moving in furious little circles, the sound of your slick audible even over the rush of the shower. Harry swallowed thickly, his legs moving on their own to carry him towards you, entranced by the sight of you so openly showing yourself off. He’d never seen you like this before, not in all the months you’d been together. The sight was intoxicating, he felt light-headed, all his blood rushing south at a speed that left him breathless. 

You were lost in your own little world, panting now as you neared your orgasm, mind filled with fantasy after fantasy of your boyfriend, merging together like a film reel that played endlessly in your mind’s eye as you worked yourself with fervour. You were close, so close. You pressed down harder on your clit, knowing that it was what you needed to get yourself there. Sparks began to pop behind your eyes, pleasure thrumming through your whole body as you brought yourself closer, so nearly there-

‘Well, this is a lovely surprise.’ 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice ripped you from your dream world, harsh reality knocking into you with a force that sent you reeling as you pulled your hand away from yourself, your cunt clenching around nothing as your orgasm was cruelly taken away from you. 

‘Harry! Fucking hell, you scared me. I didn’t realise you were home.’ You said, trying your best to keep your tone even and not let the desperation you were now feeling at your ruined orgasm creep into your tone. Harry paid you no mind as he sauntered forward, unabashedly dragging his eyes over your body. You shivered under his gaze, hurriedly turning off the shower and stepping out into the bathroom, accepting the towel he handed to you. 

Harry didn’t reply to your accusation, following you into the bedroom as you pointedly avoided his gaze, and the fact that you could most definitely make out the shape of him through those grey joggers that left nothing to the imagination. The sight made your mouth go dry, but the shame hammering through you at being caught made you unable to even think about acting on it. 

Only when you reached towards your dresser to grab clothes did Harry intervene. He gently caught your wrist, pulling you towards him until you were chest to chest. You swallowed, fixing your eyes on the soft fabric of his shirt, all too aware of your flushed skin and wild heartbeat. 

‘Look at me, lovely.’ The command was soft, but you caught the edge beneath it. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, stuttering out a breath when you saw the heat behind the bright blue. Harry moved his hand to cup your cheek - never once breaking eye contact - before slowly, almost experimentally trailing his fingers down to the sides of your neck, his thumb coming up to encircle your throat and press gently under your opposite ear, forcing you to look at him. You sucked in a sharp breath, shame wilting under the heat of his gaze and the gentle pressure of his hand, the subtle dominance in the gesture from him making your poor cunt flutter with need. Before you could stop it, a soft whimper escaped your lips. 

The grin that spread across Harry’s face was nothing short of predatory. 

‘Oh, you like this, do you? Like having my hand on your throat?’ He asked, voice cloying and deceptively sweet. You blinked against the fog clouding your mind, unsure of how to react. Thankfully, you didn’t have to - Harry did it for you, pressing down on either side of your jaw and moving your head up and down in a nod. 

‘I think you do, sweetheart. I can see you practically dripping onto the floor. Is this what you were thinking about, hm? In the shower, when you were playing with that pretty little cunt? Yeah?’ He continued, each word making you grow hotter and hotter, your heartbeat pulsing incessantly between your legs. 

‘Come on, use your words, darling, I’m not a psychic. Tell me what you want.’ Harry prompted, letting go of your neck for a moment to give you some room to breathe. You missed the contact immediately, another small whine escaping you at the loss of his warmth. Harry just smiled, both hands coming up this time to slowly unwrap the towel you had on. You let him, heart hammering in your chest as he took you in, properly, for the first time. 

‘I don’t-‘ You started, voice catching as the towel dropped to the floor with a whisper and you were left bare in front of your boyfriend. ‘I don’t know what- what I want.’ You admitted. Harry’s eyebrows raised slightly, though you saw no judgement in his eyes. 

‘I want you, though.’ You clarified in a rush. Something in Harry seemed to relax at that, at the confirmation that it wasn’t him you were unsure about. 

‘I want you too, lovely girl, always have. Why don’t you let me show you how much, and we can figure it out together. Does that sound like a plan?’ He asked. At that point, you probably would’ve agreed to anything just because he asked, purely driven by the sheer want you had for him. Harry nodded again, hands coming up again to cradle your face, hands nearly encompassing half your head as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

You melted into him, trusting him completely to support your weight as he guided you back towards the bed. One arm came to snake around your naked waist, pulling you flush to him. You gasped softly into the kiss when you felt him against you, hot and heavy and straining for your touch. You knew Harry was big - he was everywhere, all bored shoulders and big hands, but the confirmation and feeling of his cock against your thigh sent a thrill through you. You exchanged kisses for a while, feeling the slickness between your legs growing with each pass of his lips against yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were leaving ga stain on the sheets at this point. The combination of your almost-orgasm and the absolute want coursing through you now had you leaking steadily against the material of Harry’s joggers. If this were any other time, you’d have been horrified at the mess you were making, but now, you couldn’t care less, much more focused on the way Harry’s hands were trailing down you until they were just above where you needed them the most. 

‘Still okay, lovely?’ He murmured, drawing back just a fraction to look you in the eyes. You nodded frantically, dipping downwards for another kiss. Harry pulled back further, making you moan in confusion and desperation. 

‘C'mon, use your words for me, you can do it.’ He said, punctuating his command with a slap to your ass. The surprise pain-pleasure ripped another moan from you, hips bucking forwards where you were straddling Harry’s broad thigh. 

‘Yes, yes- please, Harry. Want you so bad- wanted you for so long-‘ You rambled, breathless and dizzy with lust. Harry hummed appreciatively, finally allowing you to kiss him again. 

‘Good girl, being so honest.’ He rewarded you by sliding a hand between your thighs, sucking in a breath at the mess you’d made of yourself. 

‘Shit, so wet f’me, darling.’ You nodded, desperately grinding your hips down in search of any kind of friction. Taking pity on you, Harry slid two thick fingers into you, curling them just right, locating your sweet spot with an accuracy that made your head spin. He guided you with a hand on your waist to ride his fingers, stretching you out and filling you up in a way you’d never experienced before, rough fingers dragging against your sensitive cunt and sending sparks of pleasure zipping up your spine. 

He kept you at this for what seemed like an eternity, watching your chest heave as you rode his hand, occasionally leaning up to capture your nipple in his mouth. The new sensation made you cry out, arching your back into the feeling. Harry just smiled, continuing to thrust his fingers just so, marvelling at the way your slick coated his hand and wrist. 

It wasn’t long before you started to get close again, the familiar warmth of your impending orgasm spreading low in your gut. 

‘Harry, fuck- gonna come-‘ You moaned out, moving your hips more frantically now. But Harry wasn’t finished with you yet, nowhere near. He watched you intently, noting the way your eyes screwed shut and your mouth dropped open as you got closer. Then, at the last minute, he pulled his fingers away entirely. You keened, body lurching forwards, desperate after being denied twice in such a short space of time. 

‘Sorry, lovely. I know- I know. ‘M not done with you yet, don’t worry. C’mere, wanna taste you.’ He said, grabbing you by the waist and guiding you up until you were straddled over his head, one thigh on either side. In your lust-drunk state, you didn’t even think about any of the usual hang-ups you would’ve had in this situation. You couldn’t care less about that now, not when Harry was looking up at you like he wanted to eat you alive, eyes dark and wild, hair mussed from your movements. He held your gaze for a beat longer, before dropping them down to your cunt above him. 

‘Fuck, angel- so pretty. God, she’s absolutely soaked, isn’t she?’ He said, dragging his thumb through your slit and circling your clit gently. You whined, canting your hips forward desperately. ’S’okay, I’ve got you. Just admiring how pretty you look, my darling. All flushed and needy for me. Gonna make you cum now, yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me?’ He asked, voice rumbling out of his chest, dark and low with want. You nodded vigorously. 

‘Yes- please—‘ Your voice was ruined, scratchy and high with desire. Harry pressed a small kiss to your inner thigh, looking up at you once more before burying his face between your legs. Immediately, you cried out, the pleasure new and overwhelming. The angle and your own bodyweight pushing him down meant everything was ten times more intense as he ran his tongue up your cunt with a groan that reverberated through you before sealing his lips around your clit and sucking, hard. 

You were pretty sure your brain was melting out of your ears at this point. There wasn’t a single thought in your head besides Harry, Harry, Harry. His tongue was relentless, switching between drawing tight circles on your clit and lapping at your hole. His hands came to wrap around your thighs, pulling you down further tuntil you were practically sat directly on his face. You knew it wasn’t going to be long until you came, the pent-up tension from your previous denials making you all the more sensitive to Harry’s ministrations. 

‘God- taste so good, love. So good for me.’ He said, before diving back in with newfound fervour. Sensing you were closer than ever now, he redoubled his efforts, focusing on your clit. You practically screamed, thrusting your hips forwards, basically humping his face. He could die right now and be a happy man, Harry thought to himself. Right here, with you looking like something out of a Renaissance painting above him, cheeks flushed with exertion and pleasure, hair curled and stuck to your forehead, cunt dripping and coating his chin and lips. 

‘Fuck, Harry, Jesus Christ-‘ You gasped, throwing your head back. His jaw was beginning to ache, but he paid it no mid as he kept going, knowing enough from previous relationships not to change any aspect of his behaviour when his partner was close. You hung your head down, jaw slack, seeking out Harry’s eyes. He met you easily, and the sight of him between your legs was enough to send you over the edge. 

‘Fuck!’ Your orgasm came crashing over you, your back bowing as you were hit with pleasure like never before. Your thighs clamped down on Harry’s erases you rode out your orgasm. He didn’t stop, guiding you through it and into the aftershocks until you whimpered from overstimulation, weakly pushing his head away with your hand. 

He helped you off him, chuckling at the way you were practically boneless as he lay you down on the bed. You looked up at him, eyes hazy, taking in the glistening sheen of his face and chin, your come coating the dark blonde and grey of his beard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, never once breaking eye contact. You blushed, looking away, focusing instead on the patterns of the ceiling. 

‘Okay over there?” He asked. You yelped when you felt something cold press against your leg. ’S’alright, love. Just cleaning you up. Lie back for me, lovely.’ You did as he said, letting him spread your legs again to gently wipe away the mess he’d made of you. Your cheeks flamed, though he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, tossing the towel into the wash basket at the foot of your bed and coming to sit next to you, lifting your head to rest it on his thigh and combing his fingers through your tangled hair. 

‘How was that, then, hm? Good? Not good?” He asked. You sat up as best you could, nodding. You felt like a bobblehead, all loose-limbed and floaty. Harry laughed softly, brushing some hair out of your face. 

‘Good, really good. Wait-‘ you said, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation. Harry had just made you come so hard you saw stars, and you hadn’t even offered to repay the favour. 

‘What about you? I can- If you want-‘ you started, reaching for him. He caught your wrist again. Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. 

‘No, no. Thank you, darling, but it’s all good. I already- uh- yeah.’ He said. You dropped your eyes down to his joggers, where you could see a significant wet patch forming near the top of his left thigh. 

‘You-…..’ you started, unable to believe it. 

‘I know. Thirty-eight years old, and still ruining my boxers like a teenager. Mental.’ He said. You smiled, instead leaning in to kiss him again, just because you could. 

‘Thank you, Harry. Not just for- you know, but for helping me be brave enough to- to breach it, you know?” You said, struggling to articulate your thoughts properly. 

‘Of course, love. Anytime.’ He said, cheekily pinching your ass to get his point across. You swatted at him, no real malice behind it, before heaving a sigh. 

‘Well, at this rate, I’m gonna have to shower again. Wanna join me?’ You asked. Harry’s eyes lit up. 

‘Love, if I ever say no to that question, I want you to slap me in the face. Okay?’ He said. You laughed, standing up and tugging him towards the bathroom again. 

It had been, in short, a shit day. 

First of all, your period was late. You knew there was no way you could be pregnant, what with Chris being somehow more condom-conscious than you were, and you knew you’d never missed a pill. So, it was just that - late. Late, but not asymptomatic. Your lower gut churned with nausea and cramps, faint enough that you weren’t immobile, but enough that you felt on edge. And of course, with pre-menstrual syndrome came the emotions. 

It had started small - Chris had handed you a cup of tea last night, sweetened and warmed to your preference, and tears had sprung to your eyes at his care. He hadn’t given it a second thought, sitting down on the couch next to you with his own mug, hand already reaching for the remote to turn on the movie you’d decided on for the night. Next came the anger - you’d felt the beginnings of the cramps, a subtle yet impossible to ignore pain in your lower back and. So you’d gone to the medicine cabinet, usually stocked full of anything you could ever possibly need. Except for today, it seemed. No painkillers whatsoever. When you’d asked Chris about it, the answer you received only served to anger you more. The cabinet may or may not have been slammed that night, and Chris might have gotten into bed slightly more scared of you than normal that day. 

Which brings you to today. 

You’d woken up late on account of your alarm not going off because your normally extremely resilient charger had decided to malfunction this one time, so already the day was off to a bad start. Then, you’d run out of shampoo, having to resort to using Chris’ three-in-one that had somehow outlived two house moves and several bottles of your own hair care. Then, your train to work had been delayed, making you even later than you already were, so by the time you stormed into the office, your day was already going straight to hell. Safe to say it only got worse from there, so by the time you got home, you were about ready to kill someone. 

You sighed heavily as you jiggled the key around in the lock, becoming more frustrated by the minute. Usually this lock was fine, but apparently some higher power had it out for you today, because of course today was the day it decided to act up, sticking when you tried to turn it, the wood groaning against your weight as you pushed against it. Just when you were about to call it quits and kick down the fucking thing, it finally gave, as if sensing your anger, swinging open with a suddenness that had you stumbling in your work heels, nearly tripping on the welcome mat Chris insisted on having by the door. 

You swore, coming up to brace yourself on the doorframe as you regained your footing, blinking away the angry tears threatening to form, your cheeks burning with a painful mixture of anger and exasperation as you finally stood up straight and let the door slam behind you. You could almost sense Chris’ wince from three rooms away as the noise resonated throughout the small flat. He hated when you slammed the door, or anything in general, really. You tossed your bag down, again uncaring as you simply dumped it by the door to be unpacked later when you didn’t feel like throwing every single thing inside it. 

Soft footsteps approached you, almost cautious. You took a deep breath, running your fingers through your hair. Despite your anger, you were never one to take it out on Chris - not when he’d done nothing to deserve it. 

‘Hi, lovely. You alright? Heard you fall, just came to see if you- were okay.’ Chris said, faltering slightly when he saw your expression as he rounded the corner. You nodded curtly, trying your best to reign in the rant that was dying to burst from your mouth. 

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Tripped over the mat, I’m okay. How are you?’ You said, quickly changing the subject. You’d be willing to bet money that if Chris asked you about your day, you’d start crying, or worse. Chris’ eyebrows furrowed for half a second before his expression smoothed out once more, falling carefully neutral as he followed you further into the flat, keeping a safe distance behind your uncharacteristically heavy steps. 

‘I’m good. Had a shoot today, just finishing up the preliminary editing now.’ He said. You nodded again, wrenching open the fridge, searching for something, anything, to distract you from the simmering anger lurking just beneath your skin. You seized the half-open bottle of wine resting neglected on the third shelf, not even bothering to close the fridge properly before you were grabbing a glass and pouring a generous amount into it. Chris said nothing, quietly closing the fridge behind you and watching as you downed half of it in one go. 

‘Love, normally I wouldn’t say anything, but-‘ He started, only to be cut off when you slammed the bottle down onto the counter, bracing both hands on the wood as you desperately tried not to cry or scream. 

‘Just don’t. Please. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. I’m really not in the mood.’ You said through clenched teeth, reaching for your glass to polish off the rest of the wine. Chris just watched, and you could practically see the gears working in his mind, searching for the best way to approach the situation. 

Chris opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly weighing up what to say next. You let him, focusing on controlling your breathing. Then he spoke, and you already knew this conversation wasn’t going to end well. 

‘Do you- do you want to talk about it? It normally helps me, so if you’ve had a bad day at work or something, we can sit and talk and I can try and help-‘ 

‘I don’t want to fucking talk about it, Chris! Jesus fucking Christ. I just said I’m not in the mood for solutions or any of your fucking Headspace sponsored bullshit, so just stop, okay? I’ve had a shit day, and if I’m honest, you’re really not helping right now.’ You snapped, slamming your hands down on the countertop, causing Chris to jump slightly, eyes widening at your sudden change. 

‘Sorry, I didn’t know. I was just trying to-‘ He started, but you’d had enough. You whirled around, fixing him with a glare. He visibly recoiled under your gaze, at the heat behind it, though not the good kind. You’d never looked at him like that before. You’d never looked this different before. You were practically vibrating with rage, eyes wild and unfocused, mouth curled into a vicious little snarl. 

‘Yeah, you didn’t know, because instead of just doing what I’ve asked and leaving me alone, you’re pushing some talking therapy I’ve already told you I have no interest in…’ You ranted, though it fell on deaf ears as Chris watched you, lashes fluttering as he struggled to keep it together under the heat and fire of your words. Then, when you gestured particularly aggressively, probably to enunciate just how annoying he was, your shirt shifted in time with your movements, exposing a sliver of the black lacy bra you had on underneath your shirt. Just the edge of the lace peeking out underneath the collar, but enough to turn his brain to mush. You could have been telling him the secrets of the universe for all he knew as his attention narrowed to that tiny scrap of godforsaken black lace. 

Chris swallowed thickly. He knew you were angry, knew this was not the time or place for his usual routine for calming you down, and he definitely knew that now was not the time to feel in any way turned on. 

He couldn’t help it. He was just a man, at the end of the day. And here you were, his incredibly gorgeous, normally sweet-tempered girlfriend, looking at him like….that. 

His eyes drifted of his own accord down to your chest, watching as your blouse-covered tits rose and fell in time with your heavy breathing, and he couldn’t help but imagine you on top of him, shoving those same tits in his face while you rode him within an inch of his life, that same driven, fiery expression on your face. Maybe you’d slap him around a little, grab his cheeks and force him to look at you as you rode him, making him beg before you’d let him come, leaning down to spit directly into his mouth, forcing him to swallow it, shoving your fingers down his throat-

‘Chris! Fuck’s sake, you’re not even listening to me, are you?’ You shouted, waving your hand in front of his face. Chris blinked, just now registering your voice and the fact that he’d been staring for probably longer than socially acceptable. 

‘What? Sorry- yes, of course I was listening. I won’t try- try to help anymore, I promise.’ He said, clearing his throat against the sudden dryness he found there. He was aware of the colour rising in his cheeks at being caught which you were no doubt aware of. He coughed awkwardly, turning away so you wouldn’t see the growing bulge in the front of his shorts, subtly tugging on his waistband to give himself some relief as he started back towards the living room where he’d left his laptop. 

‘Chris.’ 

Your voice stopped him dead in his tracks, like someone had suddenly hit his off switch as he waited, helpless except to follow your next word, whatever it would be. His hands, shoved in his pockets, began to sweat. 

‘Come here.’ You said, voice now deadly quiet. 

He swallowed again. ‘I’m just- just going to finish my editing, love, I’ll-‘ 

‘Chris. Don’t make me repeat myself.’ You interrupted, and he knew that his chances were running out. Either he could walk back into that kitchen of his own free will, or you’d drag him there. Though, he supposed, he wouldn’t be opposed to being manhandled by you a little bit. He turned slowly, retracing his steps until he was in front of you once more. You levelled your gaze at him, all the rage that had previously haunted your expression now replaced by a calm that reminded him of the eye of a hurricane. 

‘Yeah?’ He risked speaking. You stepped closer, close enough now that your breath fanned over his face with each shallow breath you took in and out. In your work heels, you stood a little taller than Chris. That height difference seemed magnanimous now, miles stretching between his face, tilted upwards, eyebrows raised in an attempt at earnestness, and yours, angled down and attention focused entirely on him. 

‘I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell the truth when you answer. Understand?’ You asked, voice level, almost emotionless. Chris nodded and, when it became clear this wasn’t enough, quickly murmured his assent in what he hoped was an actual word and not just a string of garbled noises as he floundered under your direct gaze. You nodded once, making sure he was looking you in the eye before speaking.

‘Are you hard right now?’ 

Chris froze, hot guilt washing over him at having been caught. Unfortunately for him, today seemed to be the day his brain chose to get a few of its wires crossed, so your tone and the shame did nothing to help the situation in his shorts. 

‘Uh-‘ He said dumbly, scrambling for a valid excuse as to why he was like this. His mind was going a mile a minute, sorting through every viable reason as to why he’d suddenly popped a boner in the middle of a conversation with you. 

You got there first, tilting your head to fix him with a look that bordered on scathing. ‘What? Too dumb to think of an excuse? Save it,’ You said, holding up your hand when you saw him go to interject. ‘I saw you staring at my tits like a pervert. Couldn’t even focus for one minute, could you? What’s got you so riled up, then, that you can’t even pay attention during a simple conversation?” You spat, voice now sickly sweet and edged with a tone that made a delicious shiver run down his spine. 

‘I- yeah, I don’t know.’ He said, all but trembling as you took another step closer, the two of you practically nose-to-nose now. 

‘You don’t know? So, what, you just got hard out of nowhere?’ You asked. Chris shook his head. He probably wouldn’t be able to think of a reason right now even if you paid him, not when you were looking at him like that. 

‘No, I just- you-‘ He stuttered, all but wilting under the heat of your gaze. 

‘Me? So this is my fault?’ You said sharply, eyes flicking down for a brief moment to where his cock was beginning to strain against the fabric. At the attention, it gave a hopeful little twitch that did not go unnoticed by you. Chris shook his head again, grasping at straws now as he tried to speak again. 

‘No, no. Well- yes, but not- you just got angry, and you looked- different. I’ve never seen you like this before.’ He managed to say. Almost instantly, your expression changed - eyebrows shooting up and a derisive laugh escaping you as you took a step back. Chris shivered at the sudden cold surrounding him as your body heat disappeared, leaving him stranded alone, pinned under your attention. 

‘So that’s what this is about. You like it when I get angry, Chris? Like it when I shout at you? Call you names? Is that what you want?’ You were back in his space, crowding him, and it was all he could do to fight the urge to drop to his knees right then and there. 

His head was spinning, all blood rushing south at a speed as yet unheard of by man as you spoke, that sickly sweet tone returning to coat your words in a layer of poison, each one landing like a bullet low in his stomach as he got harder and harder with each passing second. 

‘I- yes, I don’t know-‘ came his response, high and already needy. 

‘Well, why don’t I decide for you, then? Since you’re clearly too fucking dumb to do it on your own. Bedroom. Now.’ You jerked your chin in the direction of your shared bedroom, Chris nearly falling over his own feet as he scrambled to do as you said. He was all too aware of your presence as you slowly followed him, your slow, measured steps echoing his own frantic ones as he raced towards the room. 

Once there, his brain stalled - his instructions ended here. He stood dumbly at the foot of your bed, just waiting. His skin prickled with anticipation, every sense cranked up to maximum as he shifted from foot to foot. He was all too aware of the fabric of his shirt brushing over his chest with every inhale, the rough fabric against his nipples only adding to the sensations he was feeling right now. The palms of his hands were slick with sweat, gripping fistfuls of his shorts to stop himself from reaching out to you as you slowly crossed the threshold into your bedroom. 

You looked him over, making sure to take your time as you dragged your gaze from his head all the way down to his toes, taking in every little twitch or tremor, every strained breath and hurried little swallow that made his throat bob. 

‘Take off your shirt.’ The command broke the tense silence, smooth and sure against Chris’ wild heartbeat. If this were any other time, you would’ve laughed at how quickly he obeyed you, stripping off his shirt and dropping it carelessly on the floor. You nodded to his shorts too, and soon enough your boyfriend was standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers and a pretty pink flush slowly making its way down his chest. 

The next command, you didn’t even deign to speak. You simply snapped your fingers and pointed down at the ground by your feet, thoroughly testing the waters here of how far Chris was willing to go for you. He didn’t hesitate to listen, pulse thrumming with excitement and nerves as he did as you asked, knees hitting the soft carpet with a thud. He barely registered the pain as he sat back on his calves, keeping his back straight as he levelled his gaze with your thighs, unsure if he was allowed to look at you yet. 

‘Good boy.’ You murmured. Chris reckoned if he had a tail, it’d be wagging right now as he fought a smile. You seemed to sense this, and scoffed slightly, one hand coming up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks together as you tilted his head up. 

‘Don’t think just because you’re listening now that I’m happy with you. You’re still pissing me off.’ You said, making a face when Chris just looked dopily up at you, eyes glassy and cheeks red. You shoved him away, not missing the way his cock twitched in his boxers at the rough treatment. Filing that away for the time being, you walked past him to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning him closer to sit between your legs. 

Chris, at this point in time, was fully convinced he wasn’t even a real person. He had to be dreaming. Either that or he’d died and gone to heaven. He’d never even pegged himself as a submissive person (apart from that one time with the dominatrix, but you’d forbidden him to talk about that, and he respected your boundaries like a good boyfriend), but apparently he was discovering new things about himself today. Including, but not limited to, the fact that he was currently willing to crawl across the floor on all fours towards you at the drop of a hat. He blinked, and suddenly you were a lot closer, and your thighs were suddenly looking very biteable. 

He couldn’t resist. He had to have you. 

Before he could think about the consequences of his actions, and take into consideration that you most likely didn’t want to be bitten right now given your previous expressions of anger and your less-than-stellar mental state, Chris was leaning forward, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your thigh through your work trousers. You let out a shout of surprise at the sudden burst of pain, hands flying to his shoulders to push him off. 

‘Chris! What the fuck, get off!’ You said, shoving him backwards. He stumbled slightly, losing his balance as he fell backwards onto his ass, hands flailing as he attempted to right himself. You pinched the fabric of your trousers, looking down at the bite mark in disgust. Normally, you didn’t mind if Chris bit you - it was a cute little habit, and, in a way, his way of showing affection for you. You were covered in little lovebites and red marks from where he’d sunk his teeth into you when you two were just lying on the couch or in bed together, not even in a sexual context, though he did have a tendency to bite when he was particularly riled up, more than once leaving an impressive set of indents on your shoulder from where he’d bitten down on you as he came inside you. 

But now, it only served to anger you more. Chris righted himself back on his knees, shuffling forward to once more take his place between your legs before you stopped him, pressing your foot into his chest, the sharp point of your heel digging into his bare stomach. The contact punched out a pained moan as he attempted to  push you away, but you just kicked his hands away with your other foot, the glossy leather of the shoe catching painfully on his hand. 

‘Hands off.’ You seethed, digging your foot into his chest. His hands dropped uselessly to the floor, finding purchase in coming to rest on his knees, nails digging into his thighs, the pain grounding him as his head spun. He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, calves beginning to burn with the strain of keeping himself upright against the pain ebbing in dizzy waves through him from where your shoe was still pressed flush against his chest. Not to mention that he was probably the hardest he’d ever been in his fucking life - his cock strained against the thin fabric of his boxers, and if he looked down he knew he’d probably find an embarrassingly large wet spot from where he’d been steadily leaking ever since you’d told him to turn around. 

‘I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t help it-‘ The words burst out of him despite himself, the need to assure you and communicate overriding his understanding that maybe, you didn’t need to hear him speak right now. And as with most things when it came to you, he was right. Instead of listening to the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with an almost disgusted huff, dropping your foot and standing up swiftly. Before he could ask what was going on, you grabbed him by the throat. Yanking him up, you forced him to follow your pace as you all but dragged him towards the bed, throwing him down and positioning him on his back like he was nothing more than a doll. The thought sent a hot pulse skipping down his spine, settling deliciously in his gut, cock leaping in interest as you loomed over him once more. 

‘God, do you ever shut the fuck up? First you can’t control yourself, getting hard in the kitchen like a fucking teenager, then you bite me like you’re some pathetic mutt, and now you’re just saying shit that I really don’t want to hear when I’ve already told you to shut up. Do you have a problem listening or something?’ You spat, and Chris’ eyes went wide as you began stripping off your own clothes. First that blouse, exposing that lace bra that had originally been his undoing. Then your trousers, shucked off and discarded, fresh bite mark on full display, red and gleaming with spit on the middle of your thigh. Chris’ breath hitched as you exposed a matching set of panties, the lace hugging your curves perfectly as you bent to untie your shoes. Part of him wished you’d keep them on, so he could feel the leather digging into his skin as you rode him, or whatever you were planning to do to him. 

‘What, you deaf now? Fucking answer me.’ You said, snapping your fingers in his face. Chris blinked, cheeks flushing as he realised he’d been caught staring again. Unwilling to try his luck again, he just shook his head in response. Your eyebrows raised, a huff of disbelief escaping you as you climbed onto the bed, kicking his legs apart to settle in between them. 

‘God, look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already so wet for me. And I thought you couldn’t get any more pathetic.’ You sneered, dragging your finger along the length of his cock for emphasis, taking a moment to rub the wet fabric of his boxers against the sensitive head of his cock. Chris keened, hips lifting on instinct, chasing your touch. Immediately, you drew your hand away, only for it to come cracking down on the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

‘Who told you you could move? Stay still or I’ll stop. Understand?’ Chris was nodding before you’d even finished your sentence, obediently settling back against the bed once more. Your touch returned, nails tracing down his V-line and into the creases of his thighs, ghosting over the sensitive skin and sending goosebumps skittering across his body. 

‘Tell me,’ You started, and Chris knew he was in for it. Your tone was sickly sweet, yet edged with a poison he could practically taste. ‘In the kitchen, when you were so politely not listening to me, what were you thinking about? Because I know you weren’t thinking about your editing. Go on, you can talk.’ You prompted when he stayed silent, unsure. 

‘I- fuck-‘ He started, immediately failing to produce even one coherent thought as your hand wrapped fully around him through his boxers. His head thumped back against the bed, pleasure singing through his veins as he finally got your touch. But clearly, you weren’t happy with this, if the harsh squeeze you gave to him was any indication. Chris hissed, just about controlling himself from thrusting up wildly into your grip. He forced himself to stay still, to think, to answer your question, to do literally anything except make a fool of himself more than he already had. 

‘I was- I was thinking of you.’ He admitted. You raised one eyebrow, but your hand didn’t stop. You dragged your hand up and down in slow strokes, gripping just tight enough to sate him, but not nearly enough to make him come. At your look, he continued speaking, choosing to ignore the way his cock throbbed harder in time with his heartbeat as he was forced to admit his dirty fantasies to you. 

‘I was thinking- thinking of you on top of me- fuck. Thinking about you making- making me beg or- shit- I don’t know-‘ He gasped, every nerve alight against the rough pleasure of your hand and his now thoroughly soaked boxers on his cock, the sensations mixing together into a perfect chemical cocktail to melt his brain into mush. 

You made a noncommittal noise, your hand never stopping its languid strokes. You seemed indifferent to his suffering, continuing to trace your thumb lightly over the head of him, pressing down onto where you could feel the leaking slit, watching as Chris moaned, chest heaving and littered with small bruises from the heel of your shoe. 

‘You want to beg?’ You asked. Chris swallowed, nodding, though he could sense that danger was imminent as the corner of your mouth turned up in a cruel little smirk. Then, with one swift movement, you pulled off his boxers, leaving him completely bare under you, cock slapping against his stomach with a noise that was nothing short of obscene. 

‘Alright then.’ And with that, you sat up, reaching for the lace of your panties. Chris suppressed a whine as you began to slowly drag it down, exposing your cunt to him inch by inch. His mouth watered at the sight of you, wet and hot and gorgeous. Normally, during sex, taking off your underwear was one of his favourite things. He was a little perverted, sue him, and he loved holding onto (and occasionally sniffing) your panties - clean or soaked with your slick, he wasn’t fussy - eternally fascinated by the way the lace felt in his hand or on your soft skin. So here, you undressing yourself and him being unable to touch, was a nightmare for him. He longed to reach out and touch you, to feel the material under his fingers as he dragged it down your legs. Maybe, if he was feeling bolder, he’d ask you to gag him with them. But that was something for another day. 

All he could do was watch as you took of your panties and tossed them onto the floor. He did let out a mournful little whine at that, watching as the lace sailed onto the carpet out of reach. You just laughed, crawling forward on the bed to straddle him. 

‘Mm-mm, Chris. You don’t get to have those, not when you’ve been bad.’ You said, settling yourself above him, shifting your hips until the hard line of him sat nicely in the seam of your cunt, the blunt head of him nestled just below your clit. 

Chris groaned as he realised what you were doing, lifting his head to protest. He didn’t get more than halfway until you were shoving him back down again, turning his head as you pressed down on his cheek so he couldn’t look at you. You started to move your hips, grinding backwards and forwards in a filthy rhythm that had him nudging your clit perfectly with every thrust. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but get lost in it. Sure, you were still angry at Chris, but you couldn’t deny that this felt fucking amazing. You continued to grind on him, eyes fluttering shut as you shifted again, gasping slightly when his tip caught your clit at the perfect angle. 

‘Fuck, such a good toy for me, Chris. Much better when you just shut your mouth, hm?’ You said, voice hitching as you moved your hips, the sharp bursts of pleasure causing you to falter slightly. Chris just groaned, muffled against your palm and the sheets he was now certain he was drooling onto. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to flip you over and drive in deep, to fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk for a week. But instead, he stayed there, flat on his back and entirely at your mercy. 

‘Come on then, thought you were going to beg for me.’ You said, patting his cheek just hard enough to drive your point home. The slight sting caused Chris to moan out loud, the new sensation burning across his whole body as he throbbed against your cunt. A glimmer of surprise flashed in your eyes for a moment - fleeting, but there, and that’s when Chris knew that he was thoroughly, entirely, fucked. 

‘Fuck- please- Need you, love- I’ll be good, I promise- just-‘ He babbled, fighting to turn his head and look you in the eye as you increased the speed of your thrusts, still not giving either of you the satisfaction of having him inside you, and it was driving him crazy. You lifted your hand away from his face, barely giving him time to miss the contact before it was back down, a rush of cool air fanning across his face before it was quickly replaced with a hot, stinging sensation that spread in waves from where your palm had made contact with his cheek. 

‘Fuck! Oh my God, please-‘ Chris whined. His hips bucked up in retaliation, seeking more of that divine heat you insisted on keeping from him. The movement caught you off guard, and you let out a loud moan, chasing the new friction and pressure before remembering yourself, and landing another slap to his cheek, right on top of the old one. 

‘Not good enough, Chris. Beg. Properly this time.’ You said, though your heavy pants and sweat-slicked face betrayed how worked up you really were. You leaned back, giving Chris a perfect view of your tits as you ground your hips in a messy rhythm. You tilted your hips just slightly, allowing the first inch or so of him to slip inside you before pulling away. You repeated this movement a few more times, watching the way your boyfriend’s face contorted with pleasure each time, his hips bucking forward to chase the heat, yet being denied every time. 

‘Come on, you can do it. I know you’re just a dumb little puppy, but you can do it. Go on.’ You said, reaching up to strike him again when he didn’t answer you for a third time. Chris was gone. Completely and utterly. He looked up at you, and you couldn’t help your answering moan as you met his gaze. He was ruined. His cheek was red and raw, his pupils blown wide with lust, practically no blue left over as he stared at you. 

You bit your lip, and that was his undoing. The dam broke. ‘Please- please, love. I’m sorry for- for upsetting you earlier. I didn’t mean to- just please- please, give me something, anything. I’ll be good- I promise. Just need to be inside you- need to make you feel good. Please- need it so badly. Want to make you feel good.’ 

You smiled. Victory. Chris was a mess beneath you now, writhing and panting like a dog in heat as you rode him, valiantly trying his hardest to listen to your command and not reach out and grab you like he was dying to do. 

‘There we go, baby. That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ You said, lifting your hips and finally, finally, sinking down on him. The feeling of your heat against him, drenched in the evidence of your own arousal, your walls clenching down on him as you adjusted to him inside you, was all too much for Chris. After so long being teased and toyed with, he couldn’t hold back, no matter how much he wanted to. 

His hips jerked forwards, sheathing himself fully inside you with one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside you. His eyes rolled back into his head as his cock throbbed, stars dancing behind his eyelids as he came harder than he ever had before. He felt like he was floating on cloud nine as he rode out his orgasm, fucking into you with desperate little thrusts as he milked himself with you. He didn’t notice you’d stopped moving until it was far too late. 

Another slap to his cheek broke him out of his reverie, the layering pain shattering through any residual pleasure he had left. 

‘Did you just come? Jesus Christ, Chris, it’s not even been a minute. Were you really that fucking desperate?’ You said. Chris floundered, grasping for an explanation and panicking when he found none. Shaking your head, you just lifted your hips and slammed yourself down on him, moaning when that shoved him against your sweet spot, each ridge and vein of him pressing against your walls in the perfect friction. Chris hissed, moans sounding more like whimpers as you did it again, rocking your hips forward on the downward motion to fuck him deeper into you. You ignored his moans and whines of protest, closing your eyes once more as you chased your own high. 

‘Love- hurts- please-‘ Chris stuttered out. Your eyes flew open, and Chris didn’t have time to react before your palm was connecting with his cheek again, the other one this time. The fresh pain burned through him, overstimulation making his nerves go haywire as the pain-pleasure fried each and every one. 

’Shut up and take it. I don’t want to hear your bitching, I’m almost there.’ You said, bouncing up and down with more fervour now, the lewd sound of your skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. And, just to torture Chris more as a man who prided himself on being a self-proclaimed ‘giver’, you reached one hand down between your legs to rub your poor neglected clit, the added sensation making you keen as you increased your pace once more, effectively using Chris as a human dildo as you fucked yourself on him. He was in no position to protest, a fucked-out look permanently on his face as he watched you use him, mesmerised by the way your tits swayed in time with your thrusts and the slick noises of your cunt clenching around him and sucking him in paired with the frantic circles you were drawing on your clit. 

Flashes of your painted nails appeared and disappeared between your thighs as you worked yourself, mouth falling open into an ‘O’ shape as your orgasm drew near. Chris’ moans of pain and pleasure weren’t even registering anymore, your blood rushing in your ears as you drew closer and closer with each thrust. 

‘Fuck-‘ The curse fought its way out of you, voice breaking as you came. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, and your back bowed, forcing Chris’ cock as deep inside of you as he could get, jamming him against your sweet spot as you reached your peak. 

He didn’t dare move, watching as your hand dropped from in between your thighs onto his chest. You were beautiful like this, he thought. Raw and unguarded, eyes still closed in the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your hair was wild, wisps falling free from the strict work updo you kept it in during the day. Your eyeliner was smudged underneath your eyes, and your lipstick was basically ruined from your teeth digging into your bottom lip. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking in the light as you found Chris already looking at you. You could feel his pulse rabbiting under your hand, the slightly sticky reside of your slick and both of yours’ cum on your fingers dripping onto the skin there. Before you could second guess it, you reached up towards his mouth. 

‘Open. Clean up your mess.’ You said, sliding your fingers into his mouth when he opened like you’d instructed. Chris groaned at the taste of you, dutifully running his tongue over the digits and sucking, cleaning you thoroughly. Once finished, you pulled them from his mouth, coming to cup his cheek, dragging your thumb over the reddened skin of his cheek. 

‘Good boy.’ You said softly. Chris smiled, finally daring to move one of his own hands to come up and encircle your wrist. You let him, a warm sense of calm now overtaking where your anger had previously resided, tucked neatly next to your heart as you looked at your boyfriend. 

‘Feel better?’ He asked, voice scratchy and gravelly. You laughed softly, nodding. 

‘Yeah, much.’ You agreed, slowly making the move to slide off of him, rolling onto your side and resting your head on his chest. You’d clean up properly later, you thought. Right now all you wanted was to be close to him. 

‘Didn’t know you had that in you. You’re quite mean when you want to be.’ Chris said, using his other hand to card gently through your hair, gently untangling the knots and undoing what was left of your hairdo. You smacked his chest lightly, tilting your head up to look at him.

‘Wow, your pillow talk really needs work. Besides, you’re acting like you didn’t like it, mister ‘I-came-in-less-than-a-minute-‘ 

‘Okay, there’s really no need for that. It’s not my fault I was so on edge. I seem to remember quite a lot of teasing from you.’ He protested. You sighed, rolling your eyes. 

‘Whatever. I guess I’ll just tell all your friends that you like being slapped around by your girlfriend, and that you crawled on all fours like a dog when I asked-‘ 

‘You better fucking not or I swear I’ll break up with you.’ 

You fixed him with a look. Chris held your gaze for as long as he could, before sighting mournfully. 

‘Fine. I wouldn’t break up with you. I’d just be….very upset for a while, I think.’ He replied, causing you to laugh again. 

‘Oh, poor baby, would you be upset? Yeah? Is Chris upset because his girlfriend is being mean to him?’ You said, cackling when Chris wrenched himself away from you, standing up and folding his arms across his chest. 

‘Right, that’s enough. I’m done with you.’ He said. You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow and watching him as he pointedly avoided making eye contact. Grinning as he continued to keep up the act, you slid off the bed and came up behind him, laughing as he flinched slightly at the sudden contact. 

‘Well, that’s a shame, because I was going to hop in the shower and was hoping you’d join me. But, I guess, if you’re done with me, then-‘ 

‘No, no. I guess- I guess I can make an exception….for now.’ Chris said hurriedly. You smiled, linking your fingers with his and leading him towards the bathroom. Despite himself, Chris found himself smiling as well. 

‘Just so you know, we’re talking about this later. I want a full Fifty Shades kink negotiation. No more surprise slaps to the face, even though I ended up liking it.’ 

The sound of the shower spray thundering against the tile filled the room as you replied: