#ray marcus

It never took him long to make you quiver. It never took him long to even make you wet between those folds between your legs. Not only that, but it was his bad boy ways. It was the way he moved and the way he took in your scent in such a primal way. Ray was sex on legs for you, moans in the air, and he owned your ever tremble, quiver, whimper and moan. Fuck it, let's face it, you let this man willingly own you. But you never really let him fully take that control, no, it was fun fighting him for it. It was fun to play that game of cat and mouse, but in the need, he knew you were doing it for the sheer thrill of it all.

This wasn't a moment you needed to play cat and mouse, no, this was a moment of you knowing exactly what you were doing to get the result you wanted. Tonight was an interesting night, having invited a few friends over, a few drinks, maybe even a game or two of Cards Against Humanity, a good fun filled night. But there was a catch. He wanted to play a game of his own, and you weren't privy to that knowledge. His eyes are on you all night, but yours were undressing him just as much as his were undressing you.

People filed in, laughter filled the room, shot glasses hit the table, liquor sloshed around in the bottle as more shots were being poured. Someone asked if there was another bottle. Willingly you offered to go check, you kept things like that on the top shelf of your walk-in pantry. Standing up you feel your legs are a little wobbly, with a soft chuckle you make your way to your kitchen. Looking around you grab the handle of the pantry door with your right hand and wander in. Reaching up you turn on the pull cord to your light. But quickly the door closes and the light turns off and you feel yourself being pushed back against the shelf.

You giggle. Of course you giggle. He lets out a breathy chuckle.

"You don't think I noticed, girl?"

"Noticed what?"

"Oh come on, lookin' at me with them come fuck me eyes all night." he pointed out.

Chuckling you lick your lip and take his hand and place it between your legs. He licks his own lip, slow, dangerously slow. Though dark, you feel you can see him perfectly. There was no question as to what or where this was headed. His hand moved from between your legs, and gripped at your bare thigh. Hiking up your skirt a moment he narrowed his eyes on you.

"You seem hungry, girl."

"I am... starving." you purr softly.

"You're going to have to be quiet." He muses softly.

All you can do is nod your head. Reaching forward you undo his belt and jeans. He allows you to do this, but quickly takes control back. Dropping his pants, he lifts your hips and presses into you without any second guessing. You gasp, and grip at his shirt as your hands rest on his shoulders.

"Fuck, Ray." you moan softly, just loud enough for him to hear.

Of course, this man wasn't going to fuck you soft and tender in the pantry. No, this was a quickie. Fast. Hard, the shelves rattling. Your breath quickly picked up. His grunts grew softly as he used the shelves to his advantage thrusting into you, fast, rough, quick pasted.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so fuckin' good." you moan.

Your moans become louder.

"I told you, you gotta be quiet, girl." he snarled a bit.

"I know but you feel so fuckin good." you purr.

The sweat starts to bead against his brow as he continues to thrust, his lips pressing against your neck to muffle his own sounds, but that doesn't stop your mouth from getting louder. With a growl, his hand slaps over your mouth and he growls.

"You're fuckin' done." he snarls.

You gasp into his hand, but you continue to moan loudly against his hand as he continues to roughly thrust his cock between the wet folds between your legs, your slick wet walls clenching around him as your head falls against one of the shelves, you feel yourself building, pleasure quivering within those walls, which only causes him to thrust harder, some of the cans rattling against the wooden shelves, almost ready to fall, but he wasn't stopping. Thrust after thrust, he feels himself building.

"Make a mess on me... and I'll give you a treat, girl."

It was those words alone that sent you over the edge. Your eyes flutter closed as you completely become undone on his hard thrusting throbbing cock. His hand grips around your mouth a little harder as he thrusts deeper, at least it felt deeper as hot thick ribbons of good girl treats cover your wet walls.

A few more thrusts as he starts to slow and he keeps you and himself right where he was. He get close to your ear.

"You're not cleaning up, I want everyone to see your good girl treat runnin' down your leg..." he smirked.

You giggle, and nod your head and gasp as he pulls himself from you, and starts to put himself away and grabs the whiskey off the shelf and smirk kissing your forehead and heads back to the party.

He must have measured the chain carefully; you can move between the thin mattress shoved against the trailer wall to the little kitchenette opposite. There’s enough room to sit at the tiny table by the window if you are careful about it, but not to reach the curtains themselves to try and call attention should, by some miracle, someone pass by. 

There is enough slack for you to stand in the doorway when he leaves it open at night, allowing you a rare glimpse of the stars and the night sky beyond, giving you a moment where you can almost believe everything is normal and you are free. 

There isn’t enough for you to make it outside to use the toilet yourself. Not unless Ray unlocks your chains himself, leading you with dark eyes and a lopsided smile, watching you even in your most intimate of moments. Some days, it makes you glad for the bucket he makes you use when he’s not there or is in a foul mood. Other times, when the bucket has gone unemptied for days at a time and Ray shows no signs of returning for you, you can do nothing but curl on the thin mattress, stomach cramping and arms wrapped around you as you try to hide your face from the stench of it, shame rising, no hint of respite in sight.

You’re convinced Ray doesn’t want you to have the comfort of a routine; it’s what makes him so erratic at times. That, or he really is crazy. Maybe both.

The metal cuffs are no longer around your wrists; Ray moved them to your ankle weeks ago, the skin rubbed raw and weeping. Or was that months ago now? Time seems to move differently here, with only the heat and the flies and Ray for company. Days are measured in the sounds of Ray coming and going; boots pounding on dirt paths, the creak of the porch steps, the soft, cheery whistling when he is in a good mood. 

Tonight, he is whistling.

Read the full fic on AO3: Sweetheart

Let's face it: this man may not be capable of love. And if he is, it's not in the healthiest sense of the term.

Being with him is a constant risk.

You never know what kind of mood he will be in, let alone what he will do that day.

So on that note, he's rather unpredictable, and depending on what kind of girl you are, that is either good or bad.

When you first met him he came off as rather forward.

He doesn't have a filter and is a rather entitled man who doesn't really have anything.

He's a man who knows what he wants.

He also doesn't take no for an answer very well.

Thankfully you didn't tell him no. You were actually drawn to how he is.

Maybe it's the risk factor of it all.

Hopefully, you aren't looking to try and change or "fix" him, because you aren't going to be able to do it.

Seriously don't. He will likely just fuck with your head.

He's not the heart and flowers kind of guy.

Don't expect romance in the traditional sense of the word.

He's the kind of man who prefers to show his "affection" or, more appropriately, ownership with touching.

He keeps his arms around your waist or over your shoulder.

He's not afraid to punch someone in the face (or hit them with the nearest object) if he thinks they are looking at you how he looks at you.

He's the kind of guy to likely slap your ass on the way by.

Or pull you onto his lap and hold you there, maybe with a hand around your throat with his tongue in your mouth.

What's his, is his. In his eyes, he owns you. You are his girl.

If this man becomes even remotely attached to you, he will kill for you.

But there is also that chance he will kill you. Let's be honest about the risk here.

Be prepared for the fact that there will be things you don't know about.

He will keep things from you, so you might want to keep him on his toes and show him that you aren't afraid of what he does to entertain himself.

Maybe he will let you along for something of an illegal nature. But there is no guarantee about that.

Don't accuse him of fucking someone else, because he will go and do it just because you said it.

But there is a chance that you weren't wrong, though that girl might not have had a choice in the matter.

Submit to him.

While he may or may not really know what BDSM is in the direct term, that doesn't mean he doesn't like his girlfriend submissive and eager to please or worship him.

But that doesn't mean being constantly submissive.

There will be some moments when you need to be able to either stand toe to toe with him. Or stand equal with him.

But seriously, this man loves to be worshiped. He has a praise kink, especially if you are talking about his cock while it's inside you.

He is all hands. Loves to grip, grab, and guide you.

If you are on top, expect to be guided on how he likes it. You aren't getting off him without fingertip bruises.

He is also a biter and a hickey maker.

This man will always mark your body.

Neck, chest, ribs, even your ass or thighs. He will mark you anywhere.

Bonus points if people can see it.

Sex can be anywhere, at any time.

Public bathrooms, a car, in the middle of the woods, behind someone's house. This list could be endless.

He doesn't give a shit about being caught either.

Chances are, he gets off on the idea. A cop standing there, and he would keep pumping away inside of you like it was nothing.

That man would have to be pulled off you.

There is also an enjoyment of a dumbification kink.

He loves the idea of fucking you dumb and feeling you quiver underneath him.

"Are you my dumb girl?"

Bonus points if you call him Daddy after he asks you that.

The man though, is not a Daddy.

If you are looking for any formal term for Ray, Master or Alpha would be more appropriate.

He however is a very dominant being in the bedroom. It's his way or the highway so that better be your thing.

Overall your relationship with Ray is highly unpredictable, but highly charged and likely very sexual.

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