#tomas

When the hell did he even get mistletoe?

He looked so proud, too. Like he’d foraged it himself after a rigorous side quest.

“You know the rule,” he murmured, eyes shining mischievously.

You shook your head and smirked, leaning in, expecting the soft, sweet kiss he normally gave you.

Instead, his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, tilting your head so he could lower his lips to your throat.

His mouth brushed against your pulse, slow and soft, your breath catching instantly.

Gentle carols echoed through ancient wooden hallways while Tomás kissed your neck like it was the only tradition that mattered.

“Tomás…” you whispered.

He shivered.

“You said,” he breathed against your skin, “that if I ever caught you under a mistletoe… I could choose whatever kiss I wanted.”

His lips dragged lower, warmer, you could practically feel him trembling at the boldness of his own actions.

“And I want this.”

Your breath slipped out in a soft, pleased hum as his mouth found that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Go on, baby… take what you want,” you murmured, voice warm and coaxing as your fingers slid up to cradle the back of his neck. You rubbed slow circles into his skin, guiding him closer, encouraging every kiss he pressed to your throat.

Tomás shuddered and his lips parted against your skin.

His teeth grazed down the side of your neck gently as he hauled you even tighter against him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

He started out strong—really, he did—but the moment your fingers slid into his hair and stroked the back of his neck, he fell apart like snow.

His breath stuttered against your skin as his grip on your hips tightened, and when his teeth dragged lazily down your throat, the shiver that ran through him almost matched yours.

You hummed, indulgent. “That’s it… my good boy.”

He let out a whimper, muffling it into your neck, his whole body curling closer as if he could hide the sound there. His mouth trailed back up your throat in slow kisses, each one hotter than the last.

You could feel how hard his heart was pounding against you, giving him away completely.

“Y-you can’t just say things like that…” he breathed, kissing along your jaw like he was confessing a sin.

“Like what, baby?” you teased, tilting your head so he had even more access.

“That I can… take what I want…” Another kiss, another shaky inhale. “You know what that does to me…”

You smirked, sliding your hand to the nape of his neck, thumb drawing slow circles that made his knees wobble.

“That’s exactly why I said it.”

He whined softly and pressed himself flush against you, nuzzling like he was already half-gone from the heat of you.

“Then… I want you…” he breathed, desperate and sweet in equal measure.

You turned your head just enough to brush his lips with a smile.

“Help me hang the rest of these, and then you can have me, yeah?”

Tomás shivered at the tone you used, spine straightening like he’d been given a sacred command.

“…Okay…” he whispered, obedient and needy, ready to earn what he wanted.

He practically launched himself at the decorations, hanging each one with the frantic precision of a man racing the clock.

And honestly?

It was adorable watching him scramble around the room like a panicked holiday elf desperate for his reward.

The second the last ornament was secured, Tomás grabbed your hand and dragged you down the hallway. You barely had time to laugh before he yanked you into his room, shut the door with a thud, and pulled you flush against him.

He was breathing hard.

Hands settled at your waist, fingers curling in the fabric of your clothes like you might disappear. His head dipped, nose brushing yours, lips hovering so close you could feel the tremble in them. His breath hitched, soft and pleading.

You let the silence stretch, keeping your lips just out of reach. A hum slipped from you, low and thoughtful, as if you weren’t absolutely aware of how he was quivering under your hands.

He swallowed, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his forehead to yours, voice barely a breath.

“…Please…”

You smiled at the little plea in his voice before taking his chin between your fingers. The second your lips met his, Tomás melted. His shoulders softened, breath stuttering against your mouth as he kissed you back with all the restraint of a man terrified he might break the moment if he got too eager.

You walked him backward with slow, steady pressure, keeping your mouth on his until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss broke only when he fell onto it, looking up at you with blown pupils and a chest rising too fast.

You dragged your gaze down his body, then back up to his eyes, letting him see exactly how much control he was handing you.

“Didn’t I say you could take what you wanted?” you murmured.

He swallowed, nodding a little too slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

You tipped your head, teasing, voice a soft blade sliding under his skin.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

His fingers twitched.

Heat flared pink across his ears.

“Take what you want, baby boy.”

His inhale was sharp, almost shaky, and he reached up, tentative at first, then bolder when you didn’t pull away, hands sliding over your thighs as he gently tugged you into his lap. His touch stayed careful, reverent, like you were something sacred he was finally allowed to touch.

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes, breath unsteady, body warm and trembling under your hands.

He made quick, almost frantic work of your clothes, like every layer keeping him from you was personally offending him, but the moment you were bare in front of him, everything slowed.

His hands went still, breath catching at the sight of you.

Then, like he was touching something holy, his palms slid up your thighs, over your hips, along the curve of your waist. He traced every dip and slope, memorizing you with his hands before his eyes even dared follow.

Tomás laid back without breaking eye contact, guiding you gently up his body, over his stomach and chest, until you were straddling him right across the broad span of it. His hands rested on your thighs, thumbs stroking slow, nervous arcs into your skin.

He swallowed hard.

Then, voice soft and breathy enough to make your core clench, he whispered.

“I… want to eat you out. Can I?”

Your breath hitched, warmth blooming low and fast.

God, he was so polite—so eager. So overwhelmed with wanting you he had to ask like that.

You cupped his cheek, leaning down just a little.

“Sweet boy…” you cooed, amused and fond all at once. “You don’t have to ask so sweetly.”

His fingers dug into your thighs, shivering under you at the praise already halfway undone, waiting for permission.

“Can I touch you too, baby?” you murmured, voice so gentle it made his breath stutter.

Tomás nodded immediately—blushing, shy, but so desperate for your hands you felt it in the way his thighs trembled beneath you.

You smiled and shifted, turning around before slowly lowering yourself over his face. The second you straddled him, his hands flew to your hips.

“Take as long as you want,” you cooed, voice dripping affection and promise.

Then you leaned forward, fingers already working on the ties of his sash.

Tomás inhaled sharply, nose brushing your heat so close he could taste the warmth even before touching you. And then, with one tentative swipe of his tongue along your slit, he moaned. Loud, wrecked, like the first taste of you short-circuited every functioning thought he had.

The sound shot straight through you.

You shivered, undoing the last knot of his sash before sliding your hand down, palming the thick outline of him through his boxers. He whimpered into you, an open, needy sound that vibrated deliciously against your folds before he latched onto you properly.

His mouth sealed around you, tongue dragging, tasting, savoring like a man who’d been starved.

You stroked him through the fabric, feeling how hard he already was for you, how his hips twitched at every pass of your hand.

Beneath you, Tomás was already slipping into that blissed-out, pussy-drunk state he always spiraled into when he had you on his tongue—lost in your taste, in your scent, in the weight of you on his face.

A soft moan spilled from your lips as his tongue worked you open, your fingers tightening around the base of his cock. He bucked weakly into your touch, breath hitching against your folds, but he didn’t stop. If anything, the shaky little gasp only made him bury himself deeper into you, tongue gliding with messy devotion.

You dipped your hand lower, freeing him from his boxers. His cock slapped up against his stomach, already twitching, leaking just from tasting you.

“Such a good boy,” you whispered, letting your breath fan over the swollen tip.

Tomás whimpered into your pussy, sound vibrating through you like a spark. You rewarded him with a soft kiss placed right on the tip making his thighs tremble.

Then you took him in your mouth.

His hips jerked before he forced them back down with a strangled sound, trying so hard to be good for you that it made your stomach flip.

You hollowed your cheeks around him gently, savoring the weight of him, the taste of him. You bobbed your head once… twice… and that was all it took.

A broken whine tore out of him, swallowed against your slick, his tongue faltering for a moment before he rallied, licking you greedily, as if matching your pace would keep him grounded.

It wasn’t working—he was falling apart already.

You dragged your lips up his shaft deliberately slow, stopping right at the swollen tip. Your tongue flicked against it and you felt his whole body shudder beneath you.

Then you tapped his hip three times.

Permission.

That was all he needed.

Tomás’ restraint shattered instantly. His hips surged up, thrusting into your mouth in messy, needy strokes with absolutely no rhythm, just pure desperation. He chased the warmth of your lips like he’d been starving for it, little breathless sounds spilling as he fucked your mouth helplessly.

Spit pooled at the base of his cock, slicking everything, dripping down in warm rivulets over his balls. You cupped them gently, rolling them the way you knew would make his entire brain short-circuit.

He moaned straight into your slit, the sound vibrating through you. Then he lost the last ounce of sanity he had left, shoving his tongue inside you and dragging you down onto his face. His arms locked around your waist, holding you there like he needed every drop of you, like he’d die if he couldn’t taste you properly.

He moaned loudly again—muffled and filthy, the vibration nearly made your vision flicker.

He was devouring you, trying to pull your orgasm out with his mouth the same way he was thrusting into yours: desperate and completely addicted.

And gods help him, he wanted you to fall apart before he did.

You were already moaning around his length, soft and needy, your hips rolling helplessly against his tongue. You pulled off him for a moment, panting, and cupped his balls gently as you praised him, voice breathless and warm.

“Such a good boy for me… doing so well…”

Tomás whimpered like the sound alone was enough to break him open. You didn’t give him a second to recover, swallowing him again, taking him deeper this time, feeling him twitch on your tongue.

His mouth got messy. His tongue pushed deeper, faster, lapping greedily at everything you gave him. He was babbling into your core—tiny, frantic, desperate little sounds.

“please—hnnh—thank you—need you—so good—please—”

Your slick was running down his chin, dripping onto his neck in warm streaks like he was drowning in you. And he was. Happily.

You suddenly lifted your hips just enough to reposition then sat fully on his face, sealing him beneath you. He choked out a moan of pure bliss, arms tightening instantly around your thighs as if he was terrified you’d move away.

“Oh—Tomas…!” you cried out, grinding down harder, your whole body trembling. “Baby boy… I’m so close…”

He answered you with a sound that was half–whine, half–praise, sucking your clit into his mouth like he was trying to drag your orgasm out of you with sheer devotion.

You gasped sharply, head tipping back as your eyes fluttered shut, pleasure rolling through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. Your hips moved on instinct—messy, desperate, riding him like you needed it to breathe.

And Tomás stayed exactly where you put him.

His breath was shallow, almost nonexistent, but he didn’t dare tap out, not when you were so close. Not when you were shaking above him. Not when he could taste every pulse of your pleasure on his tongue.

He moaned weakly into you, the vibration making your thighs quiver. His tongue flattened beneath you, giving you the perfect surface to grind against. His hands clamped tighter on your thighs, holding you down firmly, choosing your orgasm over oxygen.

That did it.

Your body seized up, pleasure exploding through you as you came hard on his tongue, grinding helplessly while he eagerly took everything you gave him.

Your high crashed over you in trembling waves until your muscles finally gave out. That’s when you felt it.

His breath.

Barely there.

Your eyes snapped open, chest hitching as you lifted yourself just enough for him to breathe.

“Tomas—!” you gasped, realizing how shallow his breathing had become.

He inhaled sharply, chest rising heavily, then exhaled a shaky, bliss-drunk laugh, his lips shiny with your release. His arms were still around your thighs, like he didn’t want to let you go even now.

He blinked up at you, pupils blown wide.

“D-did I… do good?” he whispered, voice hoarse and ruined.

Your warm laugh rolled straight through him, and Tomás shivered like you’d touched a live wire to his spine.

You lifted yourself off his face, his tongue still twitching uselessly in the air where you’d been, and turned around. His dazed eyes blinked up at you, cheeks smeared with your slick, lips swollen, breathing ragged.

He looked wrecked.

And so stupidly pretty because of it.

You sat down on his lap, your drenched folds parting around his length, smearing your release down his shaft, his back arching off the mattress as the pleasure raked through his body.

“Ah—!” he yelped, hands flying to your hips like he was begging to anchor himself before he dissolved.

You rolled your hips slowly again, dragging your soaked cunt along his entire length. Tomás’s head dropped back against the pillows, breath stuttering like he couldn’t remember how to inhale.

“Good boy…” you purred, leaning forward slightly so your weight pressed him deeper against the sheets. “You did so good for me. Ate me out so well..”

A strangled whine clawed its way up his throat.

His fingers tightened on your hips, unable to hold still, hips giving small, helpless jerks up into you, seeking friction he couldn’t have yet.

“You’re making me— ngh—” he tried, voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

Your smile turned wicked.

“Sensitive?” you finished for him, grinding again, dragging your clit over the thick ridge near his tip. “Worked up? Addicted?”

He whimpered.

Your slick coated him with each pass, dripping down the sides of his shaft, sticking to his lower stomach, making everything hot, messy and perfect.

His entire body trembled under you.

“Tomas…” you cooed, leaning so close he felt your breath on his throat, “my sweet baby boy… you wanna cum, don’t you?”

His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and pleading.

“I— mmh— I do… I really… please—”

“Shh…” you soothed, brushing your thumb across the flushed head of his length, making him choke on a groan. “Where do you want to cum?”

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

His breath hitched, hips lifting, thighs shaking, precum leaking in thick beads that smeared across your folds with every glide.

You slowed your movements intentionally, watching his eyes roll back from the sensitivity.

“Use your words, baby,” you whispered. “Tell me where you want to finish.”

His voice finally broke free, fragile and wrecked.

“I… I want—” He swallowed hard, chest heaving. “Inside. Please. Inside you. Please, please…”

He was begging you breathlessly now.

“Y/n,” he pleaded, hands clutching your hips like prayer beads. “Please… I want to cum inside you…”

You paused your movements.

His breath hitched like you’d just yanked the ground out from under him.

You tilted your head, studied his face, then dragged your slick folds down to his aching tip and stopped, letting him feel the warmth of you.

“Inside?” you echoed sweetly.

He nodded frantically, hopeful.

You traced a single fingertip down his trembling stomach, slow and cruel, watching him try not to cry from how close he was.

“Hm,” you murmured, pretending to think it over.

“You’re awfully greedy tonight, baby. Begging after working me up and making me cum on your face?”

His breath shuddered.

“Y-yes— I mean— I’m sorry— I… I just—”

“That wasn’t a complaint.”

You smirked.

“I like you greedy.”

His hips jerked up instinctively, trying to slide into you. You lifted your hips, the tip missing completely, and he whimpered like a kicked puppy.

“Baby…” you scolded, faux-sweet, nails dragging lightly across his inner thigh. “Did I tell you to move?”

“N-no,” he whispered, voice breaking at the edges.

“Then be still.”

He nodded, panting hard, chest rising and falling so quickly it almost looked like he’d run miles.

You leaned down, lips brushing his ear.

“You want inside?”

“Please,” he breathed.

You smiled, grinding down just enough for your folds to slick his entire length again.

He sobbed.

A tiny, helpless, wrecked sound.

Your heart softened instantly.

“Aw… baby boy…” you cooed, finally placing your hands on his chest and slowly sinking down, letting his tip breach you slowly.

His entire body jerked violently.

“F-fuck—!” he choked, head pushing back into the pillow, mouth falling open in shock.

You went slower, just to savor the way his face crumpled.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, sinking another inch, hugging his trembling thighs with your own. “You’ve been so good for me… how could I not let you cum inside?”

He whimpered again, grabbing your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear.

You slid down the rest of him, taking him to the hilt in one slow, decadent glide.

His hands flew up your spine, gripping desperately.

“O-oh… gods… I— I can’t… I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” you murmured, rolling your hips. “You can give it to me.”

You clenched around him hard, feeling him twitch helplessly inside you.

“Cum inside me, baby.”

He broke, sobbing as his pleasure surged within you.

“Ah— Y/n! I… ngh… I’m c-coming—!”

Hot pulses spilled deep inside you, his whole body shaking, clinging to you like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You held him through it, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his lips, letting him ride it out until he slumped beneath you, whimpering and overwhelmed.

When his breathing finally steadied, you smirked against his throat. “You still want more, baby boy?”

The way his already-softening length twitched inside you?

Answer enough.