#lowlights

Javier Peña is a man of control. He takes charge of every situation, whether it be the pursuit of narcos, of the grocery shopping, or of you in bed. He thrives on it, feels useful and worthwhile. When you're on top in bed, it's because he put you there. It's quite sexy, actually, to be so utterly taken care of, so directly and meticulously. He's never rough unless you ask him, and he's a surprisingly tender postcoital cuddler, letting go of all control when you're all tangled up, catching your breaths after yet another mind-blowing sex session.

It's the cuddly, soft side of Javi that makes you think about doing things differently for once, insist on taking the reins. When you come home from a date night dinner, Javi's hands up your skirt and his tongue down your throat, you push back against his attempt to direct you to the bed. Instead, you put your hands on his broad shoulders and tear your mouth away from his.

"You gonna be good to me?" you pant, gazing into his brown eyes that turn hazy and feral at your words.

"Why don't you get on the bed and find out."

"No, this time you get on the bed. Be a good boy now."

Javi pauses, blinking slowly as his brows knit together and he starts to put together your words with their actual meaning.

"What are you saying, baby girl?"

"I'm saying that it's my turn to take care of you," you articulate, tracing your fingers with a feathery touch down his strong neck, curving over his windpipe with the tiniest pressure, before dragging the nail of your pointer finger down the glimpse of chest he always sports. Your other hand is more direct, cupping him in his tight jeans.

His frown tells you he's still not convinced, so you step it up.

"If you're not into it, Javi, tell me so," you tell him softly but with conviction, "but if this you being afraid to let go of that need to always be the macho man, then you don't really have enough faith in my capability to make you feel good."

"I know you can - "he starts to protest, and you silence him with a kiss that makes him twitch against the tight denim, and your hand. You end the kiss with a little bite to his lower lip, and when you pull back, he's looking at you in a whole new way: bared, intrigued, relaxed.

"Trust me, baby boy," you coo, passing your thumb over his plump lower lip before slipping the digit into his open mouth. His mouth falls open even more from surprise, but he catches on quickly and closes his lips around it, his tongue sweeping over the pad as he sucks it. You bite down on your lower lip as you grow hot and heavy deep in your belly.

"Good boy," you whisper, eventually pulling your thumb out of his mouth. "Now, what do we say?"

Javi's breathing heavily, dark yet vulnerable eyes searching your face, as if looking for answer to questions he doesn't know how to ask. He then falls to his knees in front of you, grabs you by your hips and presses his face against the apex of your thighs. You wobble slightly, putting your hands on his head for support. He looks up at you, expectant and trusting.

"I want you to ruin me."

You cock your head and smile soothingly at him as you pet his hair.