another Sad Bitch Hours kinda night tonight, so I took it out on Elliott. see below for a snippet of some sub!Elliott getting the self-doubt lovingly fucked out of him. MDNI, etc. etc.
You huff and rock back to rest your bottom on your heels, taking away that precious contact. Elliott bucks in vain attempts to bring you back. “For a writer,” you speak slowly, drawing out the punishment. “You sure could do better to choose your words more wisely.” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” Elliott sputters, then adds, “first draft, I promise.”  You take him in for another moment. Truthfully, the worry etched in his brow as he holds his beautiful green eyes still on you would break your heart if you let it. So instead you focus on his lips, kissed pink and full, the reddening marks of your lips on his jaw and neck that’ll soon burnish to a grayish purple, his copper hair splayed out in throes behind him, the light sheen of sweat down his muscled arms and torso that invite your gaze to trickle down the body he holds openly, vulnerably for you. You sigh, in appreciation and acquiescence. “You still need more to help you understand, don’t you?” His chest rises and falls, but his eyes never leave you. “My head is entirely empty but for the thought of filling you.” A smile cracks your stern façade. There’s the man you love. Your voice is measurably softer as you lean forward to say, “You practiced that one, didn’t you?” His worried expression melts when you take his face in your hands. “What gave it away?” “That you were able to string it out in one breath.” You meet his lips in a chaste, loving kiss that he cranes forward to try and deepen. You let it happen—it is a damn sexy line. He’s earned it. When you pull away, you keep one hand cupping his cheek. “Are you doing okay?” When the roles are reversed, the tone of authority and control Elliott can adopt can leave you trembling and pliant. This… there’s no pretense to this. It’s raw and unfettered when he says, “Don’t you dare stop.” …Fuck, you can’t wait to forget your own name on his cock. But, you have to get there first—or, you remind yourself, he has to get there first.
