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There's a grin on Princess's face when she places her order, a wiggle of her eyebrows. Of course, she knows. Her and Perlah know everything that goes on in the ER. At least she patted her shoulder as she took her own drink from the bar to cycling through chatting with who'd assembled, seeing what she may have missed, snickering in Tagalog to herself, though sometimes her eyes sought Santos's.

She finishes her first drink before opening the app. Nursing her second has her giggling, wondering if this was gonna even work, eyeing the bar to see if there were any potential hookups. Pointedly ignoring looking in his direction, not like he would meet her gaze. She could still hear his voice among the others, mingling. Kim slams her drink before she flags the bartender down to order a third.

"Do you really wanna go the app route?" Comes the sly question as Jesse slips into the seat beside her, grin showing teeth. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you'd probably find someone. But, I've been given pretty good reviews."

There's a promise on the curl of his lips, that sends a shiver down her spine, that makes her swallow thickly.

"Oh, so you have three references I could check with?" She ask with a raise of a brow, ignoring the heat in her face, chest, low in her core. Like they hadn't flirted around each other when he was separated. Officially divorced now, was the word, with his ring gone.

"Now, I don't kiss and tell, but I will say, I would make breakfast, if that sweetens the pot." And the light catches on his nose ring, the gleam in his pretty blue eyes.

Her pulse ticks faster as his eyes drop to her lips, tongue peaking out to catch the drop of Super Punch before it escaped. This thumb traces the neck of his beer bottle. The bartender sets down her third. She can still hear him in the crowd. When his eyes meet hers again, there's a hunger in them that thrills her.

Maybe it should take more than that.

Maybe she should take him home.

But they're kissing like drunk college students in the alleyway, hands roaming as hungrily as their mouths. As his lips fall to her throat, he tugs her closer, taking hold of her hips to keep her still from her rhythmless rolling. It's hard to argue when the short stubble of his cheek brushes against her neck, whine soft as he kisses his way across her collarbone, the scrape of his facial hair making her shiver.

She finds firm plane of his abdomen and can't stop the grin that spreads. She liked them strong, easy to imagine what those muscles were capable of as she hooks her fingers in his belt loops, tugging him closer.

Kim gasps when his hands finally make their way up her shirt, cool fingertips sending a shock through her as he palmed at the softness of her stomach appreciatively. Hips bucking as his thumb brushes against her navel piercing, giving a slight tug, before creeping further, pushing up beneath her bra. Her hips move instinctively, at the touch, but a whine leaves her.

"Too much?" He pants, pulling back to catch her eyes.

"No, god no, more, please," she tacks on the request as she pulls him closer, dragging him back into a kiss.

He's a smart man, letting her guide, fingers tight on his closely cropped locks. Mouth hot against hers as she twines their tongues. Her month long dry spell has made her greedy, uncaring, as she sucks, explores his mouth. And Jesse moans when her teeth catch his lip, nails scraping against his scalp.

She kisses her way down the tender flesh of his neck, after that, breath catching again when he tweaks a nipple, pelvis bumping into his, grinding against the stiff tent she finds in his jeans. When he repeats the action, so does she.

"Fuck," she hisses as he shoves her shirt and bra up, catches the other in his mouth as his fingers give another twist. Her hips buck with more whines in pleasure.

Even before she'd been a dancer, she'd never been ashamed of her body, aware that her tits were nice and her hips were fine, and after it was just her body, the flesh she lived in. One of Jesse's hand spanned nearly the expanse of her breasts, kneading them with ease as he kissed the delicate skin above of her sternum. Dragged his tongue along the same path. Like he was worshiping her.

Pleasure fanned hotter through her as he lavished attention to her chest, suckling and nipping, trailing a pattern she couldn't understand but didn't need to.

Kim's gasp is sharp when his other hand sneaks beneath the hem of her pants, the cotton of her panties to find her dripping. His mouth latches as one of his beautiful, slender fingers dip inside.

It's more than she can take.

Moan guttural, her own hands drop to unbutton, unzip, whatever was needed to get his dick out. "Inside, now."

"Whatever you want, baby." His grin catches he light of the streetlight as he pushes her hands to grip his shoulders, his own hands shoving the denim down with ease. Before he briefly returns his attention to her tits, a kiss each.

Of course, he decides it's less work to shimmy her leggings down than take them off, shoulders protected from the brick by her bunched up clothing, as he slots himself between her thighs. The chill of the night air sends a shiver through her as it hits her delicate skin, but any argument of their predicament dies on her lips when he hefts her up to dig her knees into his hips as if she weighed nothing. Another chill jolts her as he pulls her panties to the side.

Kim throws her head back as he notches against her core, sliding inside with no further preamble, moan high at the pleasure of being filled with a real cock. "Oh god. "

"It's Jesse," he supplies just as quickly as the words leave her lips, not even giving her a moment as he continues to ease into her.

She nods slightly, intent to show she heard him while her mind focused on the motion of his hips, knees firm against him.

Oh god, it'd been so long.

Kim tries to catch her breath when his hips surge, as he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest against his shoulder as she gasps.

Too long.

She lets the feeling wash over her as she pants for air, sure that her nails are digging into his biceps but brain unsure how to ask about his comfort, if it was too much. Instead, she whines.

"Oh, baby," she vaguely recognizes his coos, before the pressure of his hand is applied low on her belly. "You feel me, right here?"

And she does, nodding desperately as she hums her affirmation, clenching instinctively as it felt she were being stretched taut. The weight of him inside of her, against her, so warm and firm and real. There was something…different. A new whine built as she clenched again, brows furrowing before she understood. A hoarse moan escaped as she confirmed the piercing through the head of his cock, hips rolling back to try and take him deeper.

When he pulled back she begged for more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as she tried to follow his retreat. The moment he thrust back in was sudden, cry high in her throat as she dug her knees into his hipbones, back arching instinctively as she felt his dick brush past all the right spots inside of her before he pressed his hips firmly against her thighs, rocking on his feet and swaying her between his own body and the wall.

"Oh fucking hell, Jesse," she moans as he uses the opportunity to kiss his way back down her neck, scruff tickling and sending tingles through her spine, straight down to the cradle of her hips.

He moans in turn as she pulses around him, teeth burying into the tender crook of her neck.

Kim drags her nail across his back, up the back of his skull. And his mouth remains firm, only releasing her after he'd started a rhythm, tongue lapping against the throbbing flesh in steady time.

"Knew you'd feel good," his lips brush against the bottom of her chin as she rocks against him, sighs of pleasure following. "Been trying the low and slow route, but I ain't mad."

That gets a giggle from her. "Oh, yeah, I can definitely see that." And it's not her fault her brain is capping out at three syllable words, before he starts a brisk pace, pulling out only an inch or two before slamming back in.

Her lungs empty of air as she throws her head back, pleasure setting off starbursts behind her eyelids. She can't even get a full moan out as he drives into her, each thrust feeling faster than the last. His hands are heavy on her breasts, making her whimper.

"I woulda begged on my knees to fuck you, Kim," he pants into the shell of her ear, hands sliding down her sides to take hold of her hips again. "You want me to do it right now? Because I will-"

A ragged moan finally escapes as he stills for a moment, thighs firmly against hers. She can feel herself fluttering but couldn't stop it. "No! Please don't stop, oh godJesse-"

"Baby girl, are you seriously already close?" She can feel Jesse smile against her cheek, tilting his neck to catch her lips for a moment while he ground his cock further into her.

Thankfully he accepts her desperate moans as an answer, as she rocks against him, cooing a 'baby' to her as his hands tightened.

Jesse planted a kiss on her lips, while he held her pinned between himself and the wall.

When he pulled away, Kim realized he hadn't moved an inch, keeping her held tight as he turned to kissing his way across her jaw, stubble once again tickling, shiver right to her pussy. Catching her breath, she raised her eyes to meet his own, question the tip of her tongue but brain struggling to form the words.

The streetlamp caught the edge of his nose ring, his teeth as he grinned down at her. "Gotta hold on, okay?"

And while his voice raised, it wasn't really a question, as he rocked languidly into her, weight of his body making it feel like he'd somehow gotten deeper. A sigh of a moan escapes from between her lips as she tried to do as she'd been told.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders was enough to make her whimper, though she stops herself from rolling her hips, lower lip between her teeth.

This time, after he kisses her, he lets his forehead rest against hers, delivers a few kisses to the corner of her mouth as his cock sits heavy inside of her. "If you come, I swear I'll spank your ass raw, got it?"

It's the only warning she get before he pulls back, head barely inside before he snapped his hips and buried himself back to the base. A choked moan starts and dies high in her throat, before another follows, grunts of exertion joining them as he lets himself fuck the weight of himself onto her. She can't stop her teeth from parting, the scrape causing him to buck suddenly in the middle of his thrust, angle shifting.

Kim whined, nails clawing against his shirt as she tried to stop herself from orgasming. The pulse of pleasure washing over her like a wave, only to crash into a pain as the bricks grazed against her back firmly enough that she felt the sting. Her arms felt so tense she might hurt something

He lets her catch her breath, lips ghosting along her hairline as he languidly rocked against her. Pleasure still a tight knot in her belly as he barely moves, instead taking the opportunity to palm at her breasts. "Fuck, you're perfect." He sighs into her temple. "Squeezing me so good, but still listening, good girl."

Of course Jesse feels the way she spasms around him at the praise, grin turning sharp.

He lets himself pull back a little further, tilts his hips just enough that the brush of his stud makes her thighs shudder.

"Oh, fuck!" She hisses, clenching her eyes shut as she tensed, desperately tried to will herself to not come.

There's a chuckle on his breath. "You know it's Jesse, baby. Hold on just a little longer for me."

"Uh-huh," Kim affirms, drawing a lungful of air.

Tried not to notice that his pace was picking up, and instead on the bite of stone against her shoulder blades. Couldn't just focus on the pain, though, when he started praising her, sloppily kissing across her mouth as he fucked into her harder.

She gasps around his finger when he shoves his thumb into her mouth, against her tongue. Kim sucks instinctively, and he moans.

It shouldn't be a surprise when he presses that same digit against her clit, pulling a hoarse cry from her. "C'mon, Kim, come for me, baby."

It should maybe take more than that, but she orgasms with a scream, shoving her face into his shoulder in an attempt to muffle the sound, as her vision goes white.

Kim's cheeks were flushed, color high in her face as Jesse's fingers tapped against the curve of her hip, as they waited for the bartender to reappear with their tabs. They must not have been gone that long, though the ache in her hips would disagree.

"Ohhh, we thought you skipped out on us," Princess giggles as she reaches over to squeeze her arm, leaning on the top to raise a brow at Jesse. "And Jesse. You find our Kimmy for us?"

If her face could feel hotter, she might pass out but he laughs.

"'Course, but I'mma take her home, because someone's a bit of a lightweight." His smooth response is accompanied by a toothy grin. "Always good to have someone who lives in the same direction and all."

"That's what you get for drinking Super Punch," she tries to shrug, ignoring the pang, while doing nothing to remove his hand, which had edged up the hem of her shirt.

They're out the door when Ahmad snaps his fingers. "I told you."

"Oh, they live in the same direction?" Trinity asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows at the news.

"No, I am one hundred percent sure Jesse takes the rail in every day he works because he hates our parking lot," Donnie snorts.

"Except that time Perlah's brother-in-law needed her car, so he picked us up." Princess shrugged.

"And that time Mateo's bike got stolen." Ahmad reminds them.

"Okay, sure, he hates the parking lot, is he parking in Kim's garage?" Trinity instead tries again, cutting to the chase.

Cool as a cucumber, without a care in the world.

He can't help but wonder what makes a fella like that tick.

Turns out, Simon doesn't have to wonder when he'll see him again, morning commute aside.

Johnny'd cancelled, the damn mutt getting his usual shag pal in for a surprise visit. Didn't even let him know till he'd checked his phone and found half an hour had passed since they were supposed to meet and instead of an apology for running late, in their text chain, found a singular eggplant emoji from the Scot.

He can't stop the snarl that builds in him. Annoyed that he was out here, without an actual purpose now, where anyone was.

His skin crawled.

With a grunt, he stood, meaning to flag down the bartender and pay for his beers when he sees him entering.

It doesn't seem like his kinda place at all, if Simon were a betting man.

Seemed too polished for the lads pub he was currently standing in the doorway of.

But he makes his way to the bar like it's the same shit every day, ignoring the sneers he quickly draws. There's such an ease in which he holds himself that Simon can't tear his eyes away from.

He means to go up to him, to say something.

Simon orders himself another pint and nurses it as he builds up the nerve, observes the man for any opening. Anything he could comment on that wouldn't immediately flag him as a creep because he wasn't. Not like that.

He watches as he settles in, sips his own pint.

Their eyes meet and Simon's heart freezes before it begins to thunder in his chest.

He drops his gaze to the bartop, as he tries to figure out what to say to him. He should just get up and go talk to him, figure out what he can instead of staring like a schoolkid who balks and freezes at the slightest sign of anything else. Too scared of his own shadow.

His mental hype up gets his eyes back up, searching for the man and instead finding the spot empty.

Yeah.

Just his luck.

"Seat taken?"

Simon doesn't jump.

But he freezes, before he lets himself turn.

There's a slight grin on his face, and for the first time he clocks the scars on his left cheek.

"Yea' nah, feel free mate." He finally groused out, tipping his glass in an offer. "Need a top up?"

Luv goes unsaid but the idea of it forms on the tip of his tongue.

He traces the neat scars, wondering at what had caused him before the man sits.

"Sure, wouldn't mind." As he takes the seat beside him, Simon lets himself sit straight, bones aligning properly.

He doesn't so much as flinch, he's flagging the bartender down.

It's not a pride, but almost everyone Simon had ever met was wary of him, at the start and they all expressed it differently.

There's not a touch of apprehension in him.

"'m Simon," he hopes it's as nonchalant as he tries for, dragging his gaze back to the football match on the pub's screens.

(Bournemouth's forward made keeping up seem like a breeze, Arsenal running around like a bunch of muppets on the field.)

Mister Handsome is nodding, like he already knew that, raising his pint to drink.

How could he think someone who looked like him might even give a man with a mug like his the time of day?

Some absolute knob appears, ugly mug a smear on what should be something for him to keep in his mind. There's a sneer on the muppets face, a look in his eyes that Simon knows well. Mean for the sake of it. Because he's bigger than others. "You're in my seat, lad."

He can feel his jaw tick.

If Johnny were here, he'd laugh as he stood himself up, bottle still in his hand as he returned it with his own toothy grin. And Simon's got a mind to, to get this fucker out of the way for interupptin'-

There's a flash in his eyes that sends chills down his spine, as Handsome sets his drink back down. A set to his jaw, that flexes his neck.

Simon swallows instinctively as the man stands, height easily surpassing the man.

"Nah, mate, think yer mistaken." With the curl of his lip, he knows. This man is much more dangerous than he lets on normally.

And the dumb muppet realizes it too. A faux predator backing down when teeth were bared. A mouth that had tasted blood showing fangs to a pup with a head too full of itself. Those neat scars suddenly sharper in his mind.

Of course he flees.

Tail tucked between his legs.

There's a roll to his shoulders, as Handsome sits back down, finally getting to take a sip of his pint, eyes flicking over the bartop up to the screen. To the goal being made. A slight smile ticks up on his lips.

Simon traces the profile of his throat as he swallows, instinctively mimic the action, before he takes an actual swig for himself.

"Kyle," he offers, "but my mates call me Gaz."

Gaz.

Si tries the name in his mind as he pretends to focus on the screen while he can't pull his eyes away from him.

He can't help but wonder what he's gotta do to be his mate.

Flagging the bartender down, he orders them another round.

Only one way to find out.

Gaz's lips are soft, pressed against his own in the alley outside the pub he'd stepped into for a quick smoke. Simon'd been surprised when he accepted the offered cig, but lit it for the man, leaning closer as he cupped his hand to keep the cold breeze from putting out the flame of his lighter. He'd taken the moment to flick his gaze up, found beautiful brown eyes staring into his soul from beyond the open flame.

Save a smoke for later after they'd both taken a drag.

Before Gaz had taken a fist full of his shirt and pulled him in.

Surprise gave way to a funny kind of pride as heat fanned low in his belly. If he'd known it'd take a fag in the alley, he'd have opened with the offer rather than downing a half a dozen pints before.

When he finally drags himself away, soft pants for air, he feels lightheaded, sure that this is some kind of cosmic joke, but no television crew burts out into the cool air.

"Yours close?" Gaz asks instead.

Simon nods, maybe a little too fast.

But he doesn't have an ounce of shame in that.

And maybe he'd thought he'd known where this was going.

Brought Gaz back to his, pulled him in for a kiss as the door shut behind them. Let out how hungry he was for it, for him. The sparks that had been low in his guts igniting.

His teeth clack against Kyle's with the fire finally going. Tongue tracing his teeth while he tried to steer them back to the bar without tripping on anything. A fucking miracle when he can finally grasp the doorframe. He kisses him like he's oxygen, like he wants every part of him, and no one had ever kissed Simon like that before.

He almost felt like he was floating when he finally pulled away, sucking in as much air as he could. There's a grin on Gaz's face, the flash of teeth shown like a white flash. That pleasure building beautifully.

If he's blushing? What's wrong with that?

He leans in to kiss him again, lips slotting together with a calm ease that belies Simon's wonder if this was a dream. Gaz pulls away, kissing down his jaw, throat — surely feeling the butterflies that have started to thrum through his blood — before he nipped gently at the tender flesh.

Si can't stop the way his hips buck, the moan that escapes as he throws his head back in the burst of pleasure.

"Like that, luv?" he feels him snicker as he asks, kissing the spot gently while he nods dumbly against the wood of the door. "Yeah, thought you would, don't you worry, ol' Gaz'll take care of you."

His hand is steady as he loops his finger into the belt loop of his jeans, tugging him closer, hips nudging his just briefly before he leads him backwards. The edge of his bed behind his calves, and with a slight push, Simon finds himself seated.

His brain has completely blanked out, not a fucking thought possible in the space between his ears. That's why… no, it's not why Simon does what he does next, but it's an easy enough excuse — he'd never done it before, but he leans forward to let his cheek rest against the stiffening bulge in Gaz's trousers.

The cool touch of the zipper sends a lovely shock through his spine, as he breathed in.

"Fuck, luv, you're so sexy like that," the dulcet tones of his voice rolls over him like waves as Simon gazes up at Gaz, beautiful brown eyes crinkled at the corners, grin like sin on his face. And part of him wants to say that he didn't know what came over him, but the adoration in those has his cock jumping to attention in his own jeans, while he mouths at the outline of the line of his.

"Good boy," Gaz purrs, as his thumb catches the edge of Simon's lips, fingers splayed across his jaw to tilt his head up so their eyes could remain in contact. "So good for me."

And to prove him right, Si traced his tongue on the tip of his thumb, lids heavy.

"Fuck," he hisses, and he tries not to disappoint, as he reaches for Gaz's belt, only lifting himself away from the cradle of his thighs, to free his cock.

Of course, it's the prettiest cock he'd ever seen in his life. He wasn't even suprised, really, just knew, confirmed, kissed the head of it before drawing it into his mouth.

Not his first time, but damn if it'd been a while since he'd done this. Most everyone assuming he was a dom, who needed to be serviced — not that he minded, but this was, fuck Kyle's cock was really just perfect. Heavy on his tongue, heady. When he bumped the back of his throat swallowed back a gag to trace the underside of him. Simon sucks him nice and long, letting the younger man fuck his throat idly. Minute thrusts inching down his throat before pulling back enough to allow him oxygen.

So considerate.

He smiles around the dick in his mouth, up to the prettiest man he's ever had in his room.

Did that make him a cocksucker? Sure, but Simon reckoned anyone would be if Kyle Garrick asked 'em to. (Not that he'd had to.)

Gaz moans above him, fingers twinning in his short hair, and for a moment he panics, tries to relax because he's been on the opposite side of a throatfuck. Gags slightly in preparation.

But no.

His hands smooth over his skull, caressing, as he eases back. It's natural that Simon feels some relief, eyes finally raising to meet a raised brow, concern clear in his brown eyes. He rubs circles with his thumbs on Gaz's hips, and is glad he seems to understand.

He's clumsy, he's not too proud to admit that, sure maybe a little embarassed, but he knows what feels good, tries to replicate it as he hallows his cheeks and sucks. Drags his tongue along his length inside his mouth.

"Fuck, babes," Gaz hisses, and when his eyes turn up, his head is thrown back, lips parted in pleasure.

Si hums in pride, loving the way the other man moans again, halted thrusts urging down his throat. His hands edge higher, under his shirt to find muscle.

"Wanna see what that'll do to you?"

The husky question goes straight to his cock, but he has enough mind still to nod.

The rush of oxygen in his lungs is accompanied with a strange loss. Somehow he knows he tells Gaz where his lube is, watches in a confused awe as he motions for him to scoot back. Only one brain cell is churning in the hamster wheel of his mind, as Simon rests against the headboard, hard cock weeping against the blonde hairs of his belly.

"Just relax, luv, yea'?" Gaz's strong hands run along the firm fat that covers the muscles of his own abdomen, nails grazing the edge of his cock and making it bob as Simon's balls tightened in unexpected pleasure.

"Fuck yeah," he forces himself to rasp out.

But all his bravado leaves him, when he reaches for the lube.

Face burning as he stutters out he's never done this before. That before.

Gaz kisses him, and a shiver runs through his spine. Face burning but greedily returning it, as he feels his hands easily sliding across his skin, before dipping back.

Easing a finger into him. Like trying to calm a spooked horse, he talks him through it, but there's something to this.

Maybe it should have taken longer, but it feels like no time before his knees are to his chest, cock in him.

It felt like Kyle’s cock was rearranging his guts, and Si didn’t even try to stop himself from moaning. Thoughts were hard, forget stringing actual words together. There was only the mindblowing feeling of getting fucked by someone who knew what they were doing.

He panted for air as another thrust has his back practically arched off the mattress, sharp cry of pleasure leaving him. He'd never thought it'd felt like this. That it could feel this good. He'd thought toe-curling pleasure was just some flowery language. But he swore his toes curled with each movement, whine building in his throat as he rocked back against him, doing his best to take as much of him as he could.

The pleasure made his brain feel hazy, lids heavy as he found himself moaning for more, desperately clenching his walls against him to further the bliss.

Simon blinked hazily up at Gaz's beautiful brown eyes, balls tightening up as the took in the burning hunger in them.

A grunt leaves him as he pulls back before the pace abruptly changed. The change of rhythm had him rolling his eyes back, every single muscle locking beneath his skin as stars burst in his eyes.

"C'mon, babes, cum on my cock," he purrs, hooking under his lips and tilts his head further back, mouth opening wider as his lungs suddenly become desperate for air.

The sound doesn't register, until the saliva lands .

Of course that's what gets him cumming.

Gaz's hips slap against the fat of his thighs as Simon sees god.

"Shit, sorry, sir, had a surprise," Johnny's grin is in his voice as he seats himself to Simon's right.

Only then, of course, does the Scot recognize that someone else was there. Greets Gaz with a toothy grin and a firm shake of their hands.

The bastards get on like a house on fire.

Simon swears he can feel his cum drooling out of his hole, minds eye supplying the image of the puddle forming in the seat of his trousers, as Gaz's hand rests on his thigh.

He couldn't wait to see what made him tick.

What ways he'd share.

The word is one greeted by immediate movement by his so called bodyguards, henchmen at best, as they quickly evacuate his office. Roman swallows the little blue pill he keeps in his desk for times like these. The sound of loafers is almost soothing. The only problem, of course, being, when she turns to follow suit.

"Li. Stay."

Sensible heels stop their clicking retreat like the parting of the Red Sea.

He downs the scotch he'd poured himself. Waits. And not a shed of remorse from the others as the door seals her to whatever fate they've imagined for her.

Her eyes never give anything away. A near constant state of calm, seemingly regardless of what was happening in front of her. Her collected nature had been what had first garnered his interest. Had he thought 'Li' was a man when he'd started looking for a second in command? Yes.

But he could work with a woman.

As long as she remembered her place.

Did as she was told.

"C'mere."

Like a well trained dog.

She stands before him, at arm's reach, one brow finally raising as she must have wondered the purpose of her needing to be there.

"Get on your knees."

There it was, that glint of distaste she almost never showed, that she covered up better than anyone. And in his slacks, his cock twitches with interest, anger disappating as he watches her kneel, eyes still working to meet his own.

Part of him wants her to argue, to seethe verbally, like he knows she can.

He wants to see the look in her eyes when his rings connect with her cheek. Dainty hand coming up to delicately touch the spot of impact. Blood on her lip.

Instead, she unclasps his buckle. He almost fists his hand in her hair and yanks. But he's hard enough from the idea, it'll work.

He could work with this.

Li takes his cock out while he strokes me down ioher hair as gently as he can with his right hand.

His left falls to her throat, urging her to stretch her spine with the motion.

A grin ticked up, knowing this would give her no pleasure.

Her tongue laps at his cockhead as her gaze finally drops. He loved a broad who knew her place. How she knew how to get him off. He'd worked hard to get her to learn. The handful of hair he'd been tugging to force her to throat his cock had come out of her neat ponytail. Dried mascara tracked down her cheeks, crusts around her eyes from when she'd cinched them shut while he dragged her down his length. She was practically perfect.

Just that damn tongue.

Finally making it do something that didn't make him wanna blow someone's brains out. Because she was right. Always some fucking detail she'd brought up and he'd ignored. Rage made this better. Sharper. The puffs of air from her nostrils brushing against his curls.

Li’s dark eyes glare up at him as he forces his cock deeper down her throat, tears building but refusing to fall from behind her glasses.

The bitch.

Always pressing her fucking place. Needing to be reminded.

Roman presses the pad of his thumb under her chin, the soft flesh underneath her tongue, forced to the bottom of her mouth by him. He can see the panic as he brings down his other hand to pinch her nose closed. Below him. There's a stretch before it finally hits. Her throat spasms around him as she tries to breath.

Right where she belonged.

The prick of her nails on his thighs is what pushes him over the edge. Perfectly manicured. Nude. She's moaning for air as he cums down her throat.

"Fuck!"

He finally releases her, lets air try and fight its way back into her lungs.

Her lipstick was smeared, staining his cock as she eased herself back to her knees, off his length. Hands shaking as they gripped his legs as if he were the only thing keeping her upright. He probably was.

It was sweet how the feeling ignited something low in his stomach. Beyond the pleasure.

His cum staining the pristine white of her blouse.

No piece of her, untouched by him.

They were both in this filth and only he was the one people saw.

Finally, he reaches for the square in his suit pocket to drop to her.

Clean yourself up.

And she never needed more prompting. Doing the best she could do to remove the excess lipstick around her lips, before dabbing at her eyes. Pristine so easily, aside from his jizz on her shirt. She even tucks him back away, and buckles his belt for him.

"I'll get this washed, sir." She offers, as she raises to her feet. Handkerchief carefully folded so nothing would stain the inside of her pocket.

Fucking. Pristine.

Roman admires her black hair, slight muss practically obscured, as she turns to make her way out of his office.

There's a niggling in the back of his brain.

“Li?”

She stops, face entirely neutral despite her smeared make up as she turns back to show he has her full attention. “Sir.”

He traces his back molar with his tongue, sure his math was right.

“How long you been off the pill?” The question gives her a start that she tries to cover, tries to smooth away as if it were nothing, but Roman’s already seen it. 

Yeah, that’s what he thought. Treat one bitch like she was special and she’ll take a mile. Like he didn’t look her in the eyes when she’d tried to date, the scrawny prick’s blood staining his suit, knuckles raw, in a remind that he owned her.

And that meant everything.

“Desk, face down, ass up.”

There’s no disagreement. Li knows better, tidying the loose papers before bending over his desk. Her fingertips lace in front of her as she lowers her head to the wood, letting her forehead rest against it in order to get semblance of a relaxed position. 

Roman loves her like this. 

A woman who knows her place, presenting herself to her better. He can make out the edge of her pantyhose below her skirt. His cock is stirring in his slacks again. Roman couldn't tell if it was due to her submission or that beautiful fucking pill. And he was fine with that.

His thumb catches the edge of her skirt to slide the fabric up.

The nylon of her hose gives easily to his grasp. Tearing along the seam like a dream. Catching on the stones of his rings to pull and run as he smooths his hands hands down her legs.

Li had such nice thighs. Perfect, smooth, the scars of his bites standing out so starkly on her otherwise pristine flesh.

He palms her pussy through her panties. Hot. His fingertip presses harder against her slit, searching for her clit beneath the fabric. When she grunts softly, as he forces the digit harder against the bundle of nerves.

Good.

He needed this to hurt if she was going to learn.

The black satin tears easily.

Roman makes a show of unbuckling himself, palming his cock through his boxers as a finger haltingly made its way inside her.

"Sir." Li hisses out as he mashes his thumb against her clit, bucking against the discomfort of her situation.

The clap of his hand coming down against the fat of her ass the only warning she needs. He can hear the exhale from her nose as she allows her body to go lax again. She doesn't even start when he tears her panties off.

There's little fanfare to his fucking into her.

Li's tight little pussy is dryer than he likes. It felt like the dry hand of a maid who’s worked dipping her hand in cleaning solution her whole life was rubbing his dick raw, and he hisses as he tries to work himself into her faster, needing some kind of lubricant. She can't stop the soft grunts that escape when he bottoms out, picking up the pace with each thrust.

He knows she wants to ask if she could touch her clit, if she could do something to get him off quicker.

But this wasn't for her.

This was for him.

He needed this.

Finally, his cock was sliding smoother as he pistoned into her, one hand firm on her hips while the other kept her shoulders down. Shoved down against the wood while he used her.

Her nails scratch across the surface as she tries to find some leverage, heels skating in a horrid set of cries.

Music to his ears, as her pussy spasmed around him. No part of this had to be comfortable for her, as he put everything he could into his thrusts. Each slap of skin-on-skin was punctuated with a soft grunt. He wants to wrap his hand around her throat and squeeze.

A heat is building in the base of his spine, as Roman realizes he's hunched over her.

"-take it, you fucking bitch. C'mon, fuck-"

There's a glint in the corner of his eye.

The chain of her necklace, gold, because he knew what women liked. Perfect on the curve of her throat. Graceful line of her spine.

His teeth break skin as he chews on the crux of her neck, accompanied by a guttural cry from her lips. Blood whets his tongue as he ravenously lapped at the wound he'd created.

"Show 'em your mine, get pregnant," as he smears the blood along her beautiful skin.

"Mine," he snarls, driving in faster.

Mine. Mine. MineMinemine-

There's a snap of euphoria that ignites every pore, tingles through his muscles. His balls feel tight as he fills her.

Mine.

The angry pulse in his head finally lessens. Climax clearing this mind.

The blood had crept down her neck, clinging to the collar of her white shirt.

With a sigh, he runs his hands across his face, eases himself out of her, finger what cum tried to leave her aching cunt back in.

"Li, I want this bastard taken care of, do you understand me?" Roman asks as he tucks himself back into his boxers, wiping his fingers on the nylon of her hose. Rough edges of his nails pull runs. His ears pick up the soft groan of pain, smile tugging up his face.

"Understood, Sir."

And what was she gonna do? Report him to HR?

(( AN: Also called: Roman is a full on misogynist who fucks his assistant and is trying to knock her up

You worked hard, pushed yourself as much as you could without keeling over.

You know how unprofessional it is to become involved with a patient, to intertwine your lives and confuse the professional relationship you'd formed, and to integrate yourself into their family's wasn't fair. So… you do not have an interest in Logan Walker, despite the fact that he ticked all your boxes. And he treated you like you were a responsible, capable adult.

Your dad said you had the eye of a detective. It was probably the nicest way anyone could say your particular brand of anxiety made you highly perceptive, perfect for your job where a keen eye for details could help a client.

He had a habit of turning the conversation around, digging for more information on you, as you checked how his time had been going. You knew, of course, how you were being led. You would never say that you're biased, that you know when to cut off, it didn't take a genius but part of it was also… nice, having someone show interest, to ask about you. You always answer him, as long as the information is relevant, carefully bringing him back on track when the silence takes over. Reeling him away from the pit in his mind.

And you were a professional who didn't want to potentially hurt a man who'd given almost everything for others.

So you take a breath, collect yourself, and lock in.

You were here to help Logan Walker re-acclimate.

This was a job.

You are a professional.

You take pride in how far Logan had come since he'd been discharged. And you could tell he was rather proud of himself too. His brother had put him in contact with a man that was willing to let him rent his cabin. (You hoped this was a step in the right direction, ignoring a worried voice.)

It was only when you offered alternatives to your twice a week routine if he wanted, or a referral for a closet specialist that he seemed the man first brought into your life. So still you could swear the back of your neck prickled in some prey instinct directly from your hindbrain. Not of fear but… well you didn't really know how to describe it.

Logan's eyes flicked across your face, shoulder, examining your posture and expression like… you were a target.

Then his brows draw together and his eyes drop.

You're a professional. Not a schoolgirl with a crush. You tell him that there seemed to be a shift in his comfort level, and ask if your observation was correct.

When he nods after a moment silence, you nod as well. You apologize, not having meant to cause any distress, realizing that your excitement may have gotten the best of you.

But, your mistake leads to Logan slowly explaining his worries, but pausing to also state that he knows his anxieties are unlikely.

He thanks you at the end of your session, smile lighting his brown eyes as he shakes your hand. You wonder if you should let him, sometimes, but it can't hurt.

You hope.

Logan Walker decides to go to the cabin for a half a month to start, and you are not biased towards any patient. But you're proud of him. Proud of this step he was taking. Had to believe it was for the best.

And you know this is probably a sign.

You have to have more of a divide between you and your clients.

You're going to start making those steps that you've been putting off.

And you're going to be the professional doctor that Logan deserves.

Which is why the sudden feeling that you are not alone in your home even more unsettling, after you'd made your vow.

After your dad had died, you… lost time sometimes. These loses made you feel a little on edge.

But still every day it felt like something else was just a little off than how you remembered it.

You swear you heard someone inside, weight shifting being unrelated to wind. You would go to work unsure if you'd washed your dishes before leaving and come home to them dried and in the dish rack waiting for you to use the same mug, fork, spoon, knife, plate, whatever as the day before. Sure you'd left shoes a mess at the door to find them neatly put on the shelf.

Your toothbrush put itself away.

That's what made you wonder the most.

You knew you'd left it sitting on the edge of the sink the night before. Because you'd been tired with yourself and your inability to recall things correctly. You'd chided yourself in bed about how easy it was to put away a toothbrush but you couldn't muster the energy.

And the next morning, it's in the toothbrush holder.

You feel like a rat in a cage.

And the observer is testing you.

You feel sick.

Your appointments had been cancelled suddenly.

It didn't take a genius to know something was up.

It comes to a head when you know you're being followed.

Your job was never going to be completely safe, you knew that. Knew that there were some things that you heard that other people might want to know, enough to hurt you over.

You helped people at your job.

And you can feel your neck tingling when you're out and about constantly.

You don't sleep anymore.

You decide it's time for a vacation, something (ironically) you've been putting off.

Someplace where you could just unwind by yourself for a little bit.

Your tire goes out while driving.

You should have seen that coming, all things considered. You let your forehead rest against the steering wheel. Think. Breathe. The temperature had dropped last night, a cold front moving in. Breathe. You were not walking distance to even the nearest gas station. Breathe.

What do you do?

What do you do?

There's a knock on the window, pulling you from your spiraling.

Logan Walker flashes a slight smile as he waves, now that your eyes are on him. Of course you return the gesture, doing everything in your power to ignore the tingling in your spine. To not let on.

He offers you a ride, stating that the cabin he'd rented wasn't far. That he'd be able to come back for your car with his truck while you warmed up. As long as you were okay with that.

And you nod, preferring to focus on the relief for having an answer to your current situation. The most pressing concern for you. If Logan wanted to hurt you, he could have easily done it by now.

It's easier than it should be to grab everything you'd packed, especially with Logan's help. Groceries, essentials, clothes. It all fits easily into the back seat of his still running truck.

"I wasn't planning to pull over," he admits as his buckle snaps into place, looking to you afterwards to make sure you've already put yours on before he finally shifts gears. "But, well, it got cold. Thought it couldn't hurt. But imagine my surprise when I found you, doc."

A chuckle leaves you, as you think about the humor of the situation. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd planned it."

It's just a joke.

You try to tell yourself it's just a joke.

Logan's jaw tightens, you think.

"I'd have to be a really good planner."

You think you can hear a smile on his voice, amusement.

Yeah.

You're pretty sure you laugh.

It makes the ice in your gut easier to ignore if you think you can hear a joke in his tone.

"I- sorry, the truck's old, tape players busted, and the radio's no good either." Logan keeps talking, and you let yourself listen to the words instead of the road passing by.

You were just overthinking things.

Breathe.

You finally get an apology out, admitting that you'd been stressed. "But it's good to see you, Logan," you tell him with a half-smile. "You look well."

He tilts his head to look at you, slow smile spreading across his own face before he turns back to the road. "Thanks, doc."

It's easy to chat, catch up. A relief that things are finally going right. It's good see that Logan's doing well. That his time out of the city'd done him well, and he'd been talking to his brother, thinking about getting involved with a shelter that'd allow him to get out with the dogs before he might foster. The edge of excitement, pulled a real smile from you.

When the truck finally stops, you felt better than you had in weeks.

"Looks cozy," you comment as you peer through the window. Logan's mumbled agreement is almost instant as he kills the engine.

"I'll get the door-" His start stops as you reach for the handle, words fumbling on his tongue.

When it doesn't give, your mind doesn't question its refusal to open, checking the lock. You don't panic. Of course it's unlocked.

Instead you are filled with the numb realization that this was all a plan.

"It's not what you think," and despite the softness in his voice, you swallow thickly as you turn to face him.

"Logan-" reason is hard to keep a grasp on but you're trying.

"I wouldn't hurt you."

Your mouth feels like it's filled with ashes as you nod. "Did you…" You don't even know how to ask any of the questions swirling in your head. "Logan, I think maybe-"

"Please," he interrupted you, "don't say it's not real. You care about me."

Why couldn't you regulate your breathing? "Could we go inside, Logan?"

"Don't run." You can hear the plea in his voice and find yourself nodding along despite yourself. "Okay?"

You mouth the word, agreement.

Okay.

He fixes you with a look before he finally takes his keys out of the ignition. It takes less time for him to appear outside the passenger door, than your brain can process that he's left the cab and scramble across the seat to freedom. You start at the cool air, shiver beginning instantly as you look back at him owlishly.

Logan offers his gloved hand, and you take it, once your screaming brain can't find a way past him. The slight smile that had been playing at his lips dropped when you yanked, though, jerking his arm to pull him towards the vehicle so you could slip past.

With a thump you can hear the wheeze of your escape leave with all of the air in your lungs.

The edge of the frame had caught you in the spine when he'd tried to scoop a hold on you with his free arm. You can hear him apologizing as you try to breathe.

You're still disoriented when you feel his hands on your face, his lips pressing against yours, before he pulls back.

Brows crease as he looks into your eyes. You thought maybe there'd be something in his eyes, something negative, anger, teeth gnashing as he snarls at you. But there's only worry.

Fear.

Of you?

No. For you.

You wouldn't know he was breathing except for the puffs of fog that flow from his lips.

"I think we should go inside," you start, still darting across his features as the words sink in.

You were a professional, but this was a bit outside of the ordinary. And the heat in your belly was hard to ignore.

As his mouth crashed into yours once he'd gotten you inside. His calloused hands slip under your leggings, smoothing across the edge of your panties.

You wish you could say you were patient. But it was never your strong suit. You were struggling to unbotton his jeans after you'd gotten his belt undone. An annoyed growl left you and that seemed to pull Logan's attention to you, in his home, in his hands.

He helps you, of course he helps you. Before he froze, cursed softly under his breath. "I- I don't have a condom."

"Logan, I'm really gonna need you to fuck me right now, okay? Okay." Refusing to lose your momentum, you pulled him in for a kiss.

You wish you could say that you hadn't thought how sex with him would be. And the slow nudging his cock sliding into you definitely lives up to your expectations. A shuddering moan leaves you as he bottoms out, lips suddenly on your pulse as Logan praises you.

"Oh fuck." You can hear your words but it doesn't feel like you say it. Your thighs are shuddering.

He lets you control the pace for a moment, rolling your hips to feel the sweet stretch of being filled.

The grip of his fingers on your hips holds you still as he nodded against your throat. His hips snapped back against yours, pulling your body closer to him like it was nothing. "Knew it, knew you wanted me. Didn't wanna scare you."

His pace didn't waver, sure thrusts filling you as you dug your nails into his back, for some sense of purchase as you rocked your hips in time with him.

"Stay." Logan pants against your lips.

Stay, stay, stay.

The words chanted as he brought you closer to orgasm faster than any of your partners ever had. You could feel his grip shift as he snuck a hand between you, searching for you clit as continued to rock your world.

You nod feverishly. "Yes."

Logan's pretty brown eyes never looking away from yours.

You came with a cry, bucking your hips into his as you arched your back almost completely off the bed as your nails dig.

His lips crash into yours again, grinding deeper into you as a broken moan leaves you.

Kyle was the prettiest guy you’ve ever fucked. When you started fooling around you wondered if it was some joke that he was into you because next to him you feel like all your flaws stand out, you don’t even want to know what you look like in bed together. Maybe that’s why you’ve always been adamant that you’re friends with benefits and it stops there. Makes it easier to draw that boundary. He’s the kind of guy who marries a model and has a picture perfect family with two kids, a dog, and a picture perfect house. (Probably a housekeeper so his pretty wife doesn't have to do anything.) And maybe he’d still fuck you on the side until they get married but you do not want to deal with that while trying to find your own future.

You can settle.

He was military. His job was his life and kept him busy, he’d explained after a weekend of bending you over most surfaces in your apartment. He traveled a lot, was unable to communicate in most of those cases. He'd message you when he was available but don't hold it against him. You’d understood it for what it was; this was on his terms.

With how good he’d fucked you, with how accepting he was to trying things you'd always wanted to but never had the guts to ask your partners, you could accept that.

You could accept that.

And you do.

Until you began to realize that you did want your own future, with a full-time partner who loved you. And Kyle...well, you were never going to be the girl he ended up with. You're on your way back to your apartment as you redownload your old dating apps, updating the profiles and mentally preparing yourself to take new pictures.

There was a black dress you loved enough that you knew you could take something good. If anything you could stack the odds in your favor, as there was nothing wrong with that.

There’s no reason to tell Kyle, he’s just a fuck buddy, and maybe buddy is a bit of a stretch — you fucked, maybe watched some shows, showered, and left. You’re swiping through as he goes to dispose of the condom, idly pulling your leggings back on. For a moment you don’t even realize he’s talking to you, blinking up at him before you flash a smile. “Sorry, gotta get home, maybe next time.”

That "next time", had ended with you texting him that something came up with a friend. It'd been true, and that she'd wanted to go to a pub suited you fine. When he'd messaged you three drinks in, you'd let him pick you up and take you to his.

Just one last time, you decided with liquid courage and a new outlook on your life.

It had been about five months since you last saw him when you get a text from Kyle, saying his leave had started. There was a newer bistro had opened up close to you the last time he'd been back, would love to take you. Part of you almost feels bad, like you should tell him.

But Kyle would have no problems finding a new buddy to fuck, and you'd settled.

Two days later he’s asking what you were up to. If you wanted to get takeout. You ignore his messages, because you're going on another date with Mat with one 't', and you like Mat with one 't'. You'd like to finally sleep with Mat, and tonight's seeming like it'll be the night, because you miss sex. (More specifically you miss the kind of sex you used to have with Kyle, but that was neither here nor there.)

And you know your tits and ass look amazing tonight. Which always helps.

The night's going good, the restaurant was nice – the kind of nice that you didn't feel silly for the amount of work you'd put into your appearance but had only looked at the salad menu because Mat was paying. And you'd fucking die if you got something expensive on his dime. You know you're probably smiling too much but it really was nice.

Mat was nice.

And that mattered… right?

You're about to ask about the check, if he'd like to join you for a drink back at your place maybe? Some super chic way of asking him back to fuck.

Which is when the restaurant door opens, briefly distracting you, drawing your attention.

Your life has to be a joke.

Someone had to hate you with the white hot passion of a thousand suns and wanted to laugh at your pain, while you stewed in your suffering.

Kyle smiles when he spots you, hand raising in a wave as he bypasses restaurant staff members to make his way over to you like he owned the place.

"No," you can't stop yourself from whispering,"no, no, no."

Mat's turned as well, spine going straight, jaw set as he seems to be preparing himself to defend your honor. Maybe.

"Darl', was wondering where you were," his dulcet voice makes you freeze, clench on nothing as he offers his hand to Mat, "Kyle, nice ta meetcha." And his smile flashes white teeth.

Perfect, just like him.

Your face feels like it's on fire as Kyle's arm settles across your shoulders, guts twisting inside of you like a writhing snake. Mat’s looking like he just walked into a trap, eyes darting from Kyle, to you, to the exit, and color is rising up his neck to spread across cheeks.

Everything moves in a blur then. Mat's there. And then he's not. Kyle's arm is still slung around you, idly picking off your plate with his free hand as you stare at the seat that had been previously occupied.

The white wine he’d gotten because you liked it.

Because he remembered you saying you liked it.

You don’t even think to grab your coat as you storm out of the restaurant, ignoring the cacophony of whispers that seemed to follow after you as you walked into the autumn night, looking for a driver back to your apartment already. You were not going to cry, goddamnit. You were a strong, hot bitch who wasn't going to let this get to you like that.

Five minutes. Just had to stand outside for five minutes, and then you could be home, cozy.

Maybe you could salvage what you'd built up with Mat? Maybe…

You don’t hear your name, you’re too busy staring at your phone trying to make the car appear in front of you. (How was it still three minutes?) A hand on your shoulder makes you start, whirling around to blink up at Kyle, your coat in his other hand. A slight smile on his face.

Your ears ring.

“I cannot believe you!” You finally snap, trying to snatch the fabric from his hands, yanking it with all your might, but he doesn’t give, his fingers still holding tight.

He doesn’t respond how you think he would, which in your minds eye has him snapping right back at you, maybe laughing. Instead he cocks his head, brows knitting together, before he drops his hand from your shoulder and rather easily takes your phone from you. His thumb hits buttons as he ignores your grasp instead turning to his wrist, to try and wrestle your phone back. He has the gall to sigh, and you can feel hot embarrassed tears escaping as you instead try to pull away from him. “Come on, darl’, none of that, I really thought you’d be happy to see me. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

And because you can’t make your voice work, you shake your head vehemently in denial as tears prick at the edge of your eyelashes.

You hold them back with you spite and rage and every ounce of pettiness you've ever felt in your life.

"I missed you, texted you, but seems like you were just stringing me along," his beautiful brown eyes flash hurt, and for a moment, the air catches in your lungs, before a grin ticks up, leaving you totally unsure of everything.

It felt like he was purposefully trying to goad you.

Like he was taking the piss at your expense.

"No, Kyle, I am not happy to see you, actually." You hiss with more force than you thought yourself capable of.

And this gets what you expected, dark eyes blinking in shock.

"Fuck, I missed you," before he pulls you closer to him, lips crashing into yours.

And damn, Kyle kisses you like he means it. Pulling you closer. It was hard to be angry at him, but you were trying.

You failed.

You should probably feel some sorta way about how easy Kyle talks you back to your place. How he drives you back and holds out his hand for your keys when you get to the door. How you hand them to him.

You didn't want to think about what it said about you, because you knew.

But he pulls you back in for a kiss, as he shuts the door behind you, crowding you against its solid space to make you dizzy with the neediness of his lips. You want a relationship like this, with someone who made you feel wanted. Like you were enough.

"Look so fuckin' good, darl'," he praises as he kisses his way down your throat, "dress always drives me mad. You were wearin' this when we met and now look at you."

Even as hot as he was making you, that sparks something in your memory.

You had been wearing this dress when you met, hadn't you? When his sloppy friend — Soap — had dumped his drink onto you while he attempted to flirt with you. Before Kyle had stepped in. Offered his own pocket square, before telling the Scot to go get something to help you dry up. Not like you needed help with how he'd been doing.

You'd taken Kyle home with you that night. Apparently their Captain had gotten married and left them alone looking to find who could get to the bottom of the bottle faster.

A shiver ran through you, as you pulled away.

Kyle immediately drags you back for another kiss, walking backwards as he led you to your room.

God, he was great at making you feel wanted when his attention was on you. One of his beautiful hands dropped to your tits, kneading your breast roughly and you pull away to moan, hands grasping at his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You didn't think you could get any wetter but here you were. The backs of your knees running into the edge of your bed, and you didn't think you'd been this close. A squeak escapes as he lets you fall to the blankets, comfort and cool air leaving you breathless.

His dark eyes are so beautiful as he looks down at you, gaze heady in a way that makes you clench.

"Fuck, you look good," his hand settles on your knee, thumb trailing down before he pulled away to shuck off his shirt.

It wasn't fair how good Kyle looked. How solid he was in the best of ways, and the trail of hair up from his slacks. If you licked your lips who could blame you.

"Turn over for me, darl'." And you do, what did that say about you? "Need you so bad."

While he trails his hand against your ass, rucking up the skirt of your dress, you try and catch your breath again. You shouldn't be so wet by the sound of his zipper being pulled.

"Fuck," you hiss, taking in the feeling of being filled again, and you let your forehead rest against the bed.

Before you met him, you'd proclaimed perfect dicks didn't exist. Of course, he proved you wrong. Long, thick, with a curve that felt like he was hitting every single spot inside of you that made you crazy. You swear you could feel him bottom out below your belly button, heavy enough that it practically felt like if you pressed your hand there you might feel him.

A moan escapes when Kyle starts to move, slow and steady and perfect. Because of course he is, and he could make you feel so good where it felt like you hadn't fucked in months. But you just hadn't been fucking him.

"That's right, there's my darl'," he coos against the shell of your ear before he pulls you in for a kiss, hips rocking against yours. His pace is keeps you moaning, hands fisting into your blanket as he fucked you like you liked it, building with intensity as he continued.

You're not shy in bed, you moan as pleasure filters through you, warming you deliciously. It's easy to get lost in bed with him, meeting his hips with every roll.

His hand comes down onto the fat of your ass with a crack, pulling a shocked shriek from you. The urge to scramble away was halted by his hold. Kyle offers no give as he keeps you where he wants you, another slap landing on your ass. “Naughty little minx, if you wanted my attention, you shoulda just asked.”

Your confusion is immediate, stuttering out a what? while he kept fucking into you, harder, faster. Your toes curling as heat built faster than ever before in your belly.

"Did you wanna make me jealous? 'S that why ignored me? Went out with some office twat?" The sound of skin on skin is disrupted by the slap of his palm back down on your ass.

And the spark of pleasure that sends tingles straight to your clit.

Again, you try to deny, ask what the hell he was talking about but his mouth suddenly at the crux of your neck pulls a gasp that crumbles into a moan, because Kyle always knew what to do with his tongue. The way he suckles on your neck as he continued to thrust into you left you short of breath. Belatedly you realized he was going to leave a mark, and tilted your head to try and push him off, away.

No marks.

His teeth are your answer, and you cry out.

When he pulls away, you feel no ounce of victory as he focuses on fucking you."'S that it?" Kyle's thrust quicken, leaving you gasping as you tried to keep yourself steady, but he's rocking you back onto his cock with such practiced ease. God you loved the way his arms and hands flexed as he bounced you. What was wrong with you?

"Kyle," you finally force you, try to reason with him, "we're just friends."

"We're just friends? Or he's just a friend?"

For a moment you don't know what to say, a soft stuttering leaving your mouth. Who?

Kyle takes the opportunity to snake a hand between your folds to find your clit. "Don't worry, I don't mind."

You moan unintelligibly in response, clenching around him as his hips slap against your ass. It wasn't fair how close you were, as he mocked you, driving you insane all the while.

"You want exclusivity, darl'? You got it. Won't ever look at another bird. Haven't even since I met ya but if you need me to say it I will." The admission makes your thighs tremble. Or maybe that was Kyle's skilled fingers. His cock filling you.

You shudder through an orgasm that leaves your vision dotted with starbursts. Moan tearing loose as you let yourself fall limply against the mattress.

Was that sound you? The sloppy fucked out wet sounds echoing through the room?

Your face was burning, as you panted, trying to regain your bearings.

Kyle thumbs are rubbing circles on the soft flesh of your hips, soft coos finally reaching your ears. "There's my darl', coming undone so sweetly on my cock." His mouth grazes against the base of your neck, kissing across your shoulders. "Think Mat could fuck you like this?"

And your fuck scrambled brain struggles to understand the meaning of his words.

Mat?

His palm on your ass can only draw a high whine, gazing over your shoulder at the most beautiful man you've ever known in confusion.

"Oh, darl', don't even know who I'm talking about, do you?" Kyle chuckles, smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at you.

And you don't. What did that say about you?

"Aw, darl'" he coos at you, hips thrusting lazily and pushing you quickly towards another orgasm as the overstimulation starts to edge in.

A soft whine escapes, fingers fisting back into the mussed blankets of your bed. "Kyle, wait," you finally gasp out. "Too much, baby!"

Your plea is heard, to your shock, and chuckles fill the room.

Kyle lays across your back, sweat pressing against the fabric of your dress but you can't even begin to care. It's a strange closeness that only he's been able to garner in you, his heart beating against you as you finally catch your breath.

He's still hard inside of you.

Because Kyle always delivered.

And it seemed in more ways than one.

"Really exclusive?" The words leave you before you can stop them, a suspicious hope percolating in you as you raise a brow at him.

"'Course, darl'" he agrees with a kiss to your lips, tilting your head for easier access.

"Gimme my phone."

"For?"

"Gotta tell Mat it's over," you sigh. "And, Ky?"

"Darl'?"

"Fuck me harder."

His breath tickles across your neck and pulls another moan from your core.

finally making your way up to the bar you pick a seat on his left, your good side if you had to pick a favorite, and you can immediately feel his eyes raking up your body. you'd picked your outfit special for tonight, knew how good you looked, and how you'd teased your hair just right. of course he wanted to fuck you. you'd wanna fuck you too if you met in a lounge like this.

"i need whatever's gonna get me drunk quickest," you order from the bartender, clocking the grin that ticks up on his lips as his eyes drop to your tits. as if. well, maybe if you weren't hunting.

that also pulled the pretty man's attention, his beautiful dark eyes studying you. but he waited until your drink had arrived and you'd taken a hearty swallow before he finally address you. "now what's got you drinking paint thinner, darl'," of course the bastard has a smooth voice that would make women swoon. that boy next door concern on his brow.

and you've always had a good imagination. your lies flow like honey from your lips as you detail a work week that would push anyone to drinking bar jungle juice.

and pretty boy — kyle — he's a good listener.

because of course he is.

agrees that you deserve a good drink after the week you've supposedly had.

it's honestly a bit of a disappointment how easy he falls into chatting with you, even closing the distance between you to lean on the bartop as you continued to chat, ignoring the hungry eyes of others.

it did make you preen a little, but, you were only human. there was a delicious triumphant feeling of seeing others want what you had in your claws. what only had eyes for you.

after a couple more drinks, kyle even offering to buy the last, stack of bills flashing as he opens his wallet, you let slip that you'd rented a room nearby.

his eyes never leave your lips, as clear want fills his eyes before a grin spreads across his mouth. "lead the way, darl'."

and you do, because, you had. you'd never bring someone home when your trysts only ended well for you. and it was easier for you to leave someone else to clean up the mess.

"i've never done this before," you murmur as he wraps his arm around your waist, like you were close, and you allow it, smiling warmly at him as you allow yourself to gaze up at him through your lashes.

a pride puffs up his chest, grin playing on his lips.

yeah, you'd picked well.

near the door, you turn up the charm, trailing your fingers up his arm, murmuring how you can't believe how big his hands are, as you trace a finger across the power they hold. "god you're so beautiful," you coo, turning to let him kiss you, the play the shy lounge girl that gives into him. that seemed like the type of fantasy he'd have, you roll your eyes internally.

hook, line, and sinker.

he's a great kisser, the bastard, leading you to the bed, once the door is closed behind you. you always loved a helpful victim, a lamb who'd lead itself to the slaughter. you let yourself be kissed, kiss him back, hands roaming over his body as you drop your purse atop the bed in a perfected placement drop.

it does turn you on how strong his hands are, the flexing of the muscles in his neck when you kiss his jaw.

you let yourself focus on his mouth on yours, your jaw, throat, teeth grazing your shoulder and pulling a real moan. it was only fair that you let yourself enjoy this for a little bit, pretend this is a sexy tryst with an insanely privileged man, whose money you will spend so, so happily.

you let him back you onto the bed, hands gliding up his toned abdomen as you look at him as desirous a person in your situation should be.

you even start to unbutton his slacks before acting as you'd regained some semblance of control, face hot as you sit yourself back. mumbling for him to wait.

"sorry, I-"

"'s alright , darl', whatever you need," as he gives you a modicum of space, body still keeping you where you were, though.

"i have condoms in my purse," you pant out, and you can't miss the spark of something in his eyes — relief. good.

what a perfect sheep you picked.

he rubs circles in your legs with his thumbs as you reach into your bag, rustling through in search before finally grasping the torch you'd gotten special for this job. because he'd been such a good little sport, you flip the switch before you pull it out of your purse—

and blink up at the ceiling in stark confusion.

your attempts to sit up lead nowhere.

before your brain catches up, snarl starting as you try to writhe out from his hold. to get him off of you.

"darl', 's that a stun gun?" his smooth voice is incredulous as he tilts your wrist, making you wince.

"get your fuckings hands off of me!" you snap, attempting to yank your arm out of his grasp.

but it's no use. it's like you weren't even trying. wildly, you try and kick at him, but find your legs pinned almost instantly.

"don't you know how dangerous those can be?" there's an edge in his voice that chills you.

you think about pleading with him, saying someone forced you or something that a guy like him seems like he'd eat up. but there's an edge to his lips, a glint in his gaze that makes you grit your teeth as you hiss up to him. "if you don't get off me, i'll start screaming."

his grin reminds you of the cat that got the canary, sharp teeth bearing down past the feathers and flesh. "well, don't know who they'd believe, darl', a sergeant like me, or i'm sorry, what did you do again? just rob lads trying to have a good time?"

but the words went through one ear and out the other as one rung clear since it had left his lips. sergeant. without thinking you bring your heard back to slam your forehead into his face, bracing for impact as you begin to twist preemptively to free yourself.

his forearm catches the contact, forces you back down as you let out a guttural snarl.

"oh you're a feisty kitty, knew i liked you the moment you sat down," the bastard smashes your lips together as you're still trying to think of something to free yourself.

when you open your mouth to try to bite him, he rears back, grin spread freely. "oh please, darl, i'm not a fiend. won't do nothing you don't want. how does that sound? we just have some fun, and then we go our seperate ways."

and he says it with enough sincerity that it gives you pause.

breathing through your nose, you stare at him before slowly nodding.

"good girl, darl', okay, 'm gonna get off ya, and we'll just have a good time, alright?" his words do nothing as he takes your stun gun when he raises himself off of you, allowing you to stretch and loosen your joints.

you don't think you were obvious in how your goal was the door. you don't think your body language let onto how you were going to move.

but your attempt to roll away and slip out is immediately stopped, thrown back against the mattress as kyle huffs.

this time, both your wrists are held down above your head, as he pins you down under his weight. he tuts down where he's seated atop you. "now, darl', i admit, that made me a little wary of trusting you." there is a sound you've only been on the other side of, that sends jolts down your spine as your body stiffens. and then a soft chuckle. "oh, didn't even need to shock ya. that's good."

he's smiling, the bastard.

before he leans over you to place the stun gun outside of your range, cradles your face with one hand as he runs his thumb over your lips. prompt clear, your lips part.

"think i know how you can earn my trust back. want that, darl'?"

and despite yourself, you nod, suck on his thumb to sweeten the deal.

he lets you have your hands back before he raises himself off of you. and you slide down the bed, to the floor, ignore the siren call of the door as you take the spot between his legs that he creates as he sits on the edge.

you can do this.

"go on, darl'," his voice shouldn't sound so charming.

you'd like to think that the hardness in his slacks is from before. it makes it easier, you supposed.

he lets you unzip his trousers, smiles down at you as you open them and fish his cock out of his boxers. and… you don't think about how it's not fair that his cock is as pretty as he is. this isn't about that. you're not thinking about how he's thick, curved in that way that's sure to make people tremble. pre beading at the slit on his tip.

you look into his eyes as you trail a nail down his length, don't miss the way his smile widens. you smooth your thumb over the head, spreading what he offers, before you give him an appreciative pump.

right.

"all for me?" you purr, and don't miss the way his cock twitches. so what if that pulls a grin from you.

yeah, you could do this.

you lean in to hiss his cockhead, hearing the way he inhales through his teeth as your lips press against it. to sell it, you gaze up through your lashes at him as your tongue peeks out. you don't think about how long it's been, or what brought you here, you focus on the task at hand; suckling on the head of his dick as you lazily pump your hand up his length.

careful of your teeth, you take him further into your mouth, laving your tongue over every bit of flesh that you possibly could, rewarded with a moan as you focus on his pleasure.

you don't know why you forgot about his hands, but it's a surprise when they slide up your neck, fisting a hold in your hair as he tilts your head with his grasp, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, down your throat. you weren't ready for that, attempting to relax your throat when your nails on his thighs do nothing to deter him.

instead he hisses a moan, head thrown back.

there's no way, in your current predicament, to stop him, so you cinch your eyes shut and let him fuck your throat, tonguing at what flesh you can, humming to help him cum faster. if he'd been standing, you could probably finger his ass enough to get him off.

it's a nice thing to imagine as tears well through your closed eyes.

anything to keep your mind at the task, to breath through your nose, to get this over with.

you can feel his cock twitching, humming harder, as you drop one hand from his thigh. his balls are nice an heavy as you cup them, pulling a moan louder than the others, an aborted thrusts of his hips to force himself farther.

you can almost taste your freedom.

instead of you're forced to taste a shot of his cum as he pulls out of your throat, mouth, string painting across face and your closed eyes as you suck in air.

a camera shutter goes off and panting, you do your best to wipe him off your face.

the bastard laughs at you. "c'mon, darl', no need to be dramatic."

snatching your purse, you glare at him. "you got yours, i'm out."

you wish, you'd heard the sounds beyond the door. but you don't. instead coming face-to-face with a man's chest. there's a deep low chuckle from the blonde man, as a mohawk peers over his shoulder.

"ye already started, gaz? well thanks for the greeting, lass, but don't you worry, cap, si, and i'll keep you busy while he gets it back up."

your heart hammers in your throat, as his mitt wraps around your wrist, dragging you back towards the bed. "wait, no-"

"promised you'd pay it off, didn't ya, dovie?" the tower of a man's voice is a rumble that makes your knees shake.

"i — i didn't-"

"aw, luv, no reason to cry," a man with muttonchops smiles at you like you've just said the dumbest thing in the world, pinching your cheek between his thumb and forefinger. "and our gaz already told us you're good for it."

"i'll never do it again." you plead as the door slams after him, tears welling in your eyes.

"good girl," he cooes, before nodding to the bed with his chin. "now get up there. johnny's been a pain all night since gaz texted."

you'd kept the vibrator on your clit the entire ride to base, trying not to shudder when each bump in the road had your pussy going crazy. if you weren't in the passenger seat, you don't know if you'd be able to keep yourself from playing with poor neglected pussy

but unfortunately, you loved the way your daddy made you almost blackout fucking you after you'd edged for the last two days, it made your daddy-daughter dates so much better

you know the way to his office like the back of your hand, but you can't help but taking your time getting there, meandering as you imagined your father fucking you across the front desk, against the window. you didn't think you could get any wetter, but the vibe slides smoother against your swollen clit easier and sends jolts straight to your womb

you'd spent the whole summer abroad studying, happy to have the opportunity to travel by yourself. and most importantly getting every trace of your birth control out of your system so your dad could have a nice wet pussy to breed.

he'd begged you to let him breed you for his birthday present, and you didn't care if he'd been drunk, the idea had made you cum

your thighs felt like they were quivering as you finally knocked on the door to his office

"enter," came the gruff, annoyed snap of your dad

and fuck if he didn't look good, cigar between his fingers as he looked up from his papers

eyes dropping to your tits, your pierced nipples just barely visible under your black top

"we were supposed to have lunch, daddy," you huff, hip tapping the door so it shut behind you

knowing you were fully alone, you turned up your vibe as you stood there, whirring becoming clearer as you grinned at him. "and i missed you."

he reminds you to lock the door behind you as he snuffs out his smoke and opens a drawer. of course your daddy had his pills on him

you feel like you might be vibrating as stand before him, dribbling into your panties with how wet you are.he leans back in his chair, legs open as he unbuckles his belt, already getting his trousers unbutton before you sigh and push his hands away

it always felt like he was rushing things

so he was about to fuck his daughter in his office on base? and?

your daddy knew he could choke you if he needed

but the task at hand was something you particularly enjoyed. you loved greeting his big, fat cock, foreskin trying to show off that perfect pussy ruining mushroom cockhead of his. ignoring the frantic vibrations pulsing against your clit, shivering as you got on your knees to kiss

"hi, daddy, did you miss me?" you make sure to ask before swiping your tongue across it, savoring the salty tang of sweat and piss mixed with just the faintest scent of soap. capturing the head between your lips you suck, running the flat of your tongue where you can

"fuck yes, baby," his deep voice wavers as he groans, relaxing further into his seat as his cock stiffens up, giving you more to suckle on

it had been so long

you'd missed him too, missed the way his cock would batter your cervix like he was trying to fuck your womb. the way you'd been able to keep the condom inside of you after, squeezing hard on the latex as your daddy started to tug the hot balloon of cum out of you, missed his bear paw of a hand over your mouth to keep your screams of pleasure away from prying ears

his fingers are fisted in your hair, as he began guiding himself down your throat and you hummed in response, a barely held back moan leaving him

tapping his hips, he let you go, helped you straddle him as he shoved your panties to the side, vibe quickly falling to the floor

"need you so bad, daddy," you panted, pulling him in for a kiss by his beard, hungrily suckling his tongue when he attempted to breech your mouth and coating him in his own taste

his cockhead glides between your folds and leaves you gasping, hips stuttering in an attempt to fill your greedy cunt

and john tuts, hand cracking against the fat of your ass at your slutty show. "is that how you ask?"

you groan, trying to tilt your hips just right so he'll start sliding in, because you needed your father's cock. "please, daddy, please my pretty little pussy needs you so bad." a shudder has you pausing as he rolls his hips up to meet yours

almost

your bounced on his lap desperately. "please daddy, need your cummies, need my pussy all messed up by the dick that made me."

and that always gets him, exhaling through his nose before he pulls you down onto his thick cock. a hand is clamped over your mouth as you let yourself moan at the feeling. no one else had the weight of him, that filled feeling beyond comfort but so damn good

you help him tug up your top, cradling his head between your hands as his mouth latches on, rolling the pierced stud around on his tongue as his pace immediately quickened, hands on your hips to bounce you on him

the scratch of his curls against your oversensitive clit has you shuddering, head tilting back as you cum on his dick, desperately trying to milk him as he fucked up into you like you were his own personal fleshlight

(you'd offered to get it tattooed on your ass, bent over your apartment bed, but he'd shove your face into the sheets and fucked you faster, leaving you squirting all over your new mattress)

"beg for it," you finally understand the growl in your ear to mean

"need it daddy! gimme cummies! gimme cummies please!" you cry out as you continue to try and keep his pace, bouncing your weight on the tips of your toes and he continues to carry you up and down

and with a particularly deep growl you feel it, your treat. nice hot cum straight from your dad into your pussy

a rough thumb begins to drag across your clit and you beg harder

another orgasm rocks through you

you'd love to see the faces his squad'd make seeing him unload his fat balls in his daughter

maybe you should ask him