Wouldn't you look prettier on your knees, baby?

It was late at night when you finally got your hands on him. After dinner, and after cleaning up said dinner, he went to the shower and locked the door behind him. You let it go, expecting that he just needed to process the day and that he’d come back to you. He always came back to you in the end.

You changed and did the normal routine of getting ready for bed, sans the things requiring the single bathroom in your small one bedroom apartment. You were playing on your Switch when Lit finally walked out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind him.

“Don’t bother getting dressed.” You stated. You felt his gaze finally land on you and you shut down your Switch.

“Uh…” He trailed off. You set your system on the nightstand and settle back in your spot, looking at him with hands in your lap.

“You heard me.” You said, tilting your chin up as if asking him to fight back. He didn’t. “Come here, baby.”

He drops his towel where he stands, revealing his toned form. You bite your lip as he bends, putting his hands on the bed and starts climbing towards you. He collapses in your lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Your hand slides into his hair from muscle memory and you begin scratching his head.

“Was it the shithead today?”

He nods silently. A small smile graces your lips.

“Do you want me to make you feel better?”

He nods again. Your hand makes its way down his neck, pausing to rub a thumb over the nape and then continues down as far as you can make it without bending over him. You bring your hand back, trailing your nails as you do, watching a shiver run down his spine and the goosebumps rise on his upper arms.

On a normal night, you would spend your energy taking Lit apart slowly, piece by piece and methodically, but tonight, he needs overwhelming sensations. Things to keep his brain focused on you and only you.

You slide out from under the covers and he flips over onto his back, arms above his head already assuming the position you like him in. Open and vulnerable. He pushes himself further up the bed and gives you a look that was a mix of pouty and waiting. This isn’t the first time he’s submitted to you, in fact, recently, he’s taken the role more often. There was something so fucking attractive about it you that you couldn’t figure out. Maybe it was the look in his eyes as they glossed over, falling deep into that space of total trust, or maybe it was him allowing the old “masculine” brainwashing to fall away. Either way, it sends sparks down your spine.

You settle between his legs and run your hands up them, light touches teasing the inside of his legs. His cock gives a twitch of interest as you get closer, hands petting where his hips and legs meet. You glance up to see his hands where they were when you started and his eyes watching you with the barest trace of desperation in them.

You want more. the sharp inhale he gives in response. It’s not fully hard yet, but you’re a patient person, knowing Lit needs to be thoroughly in the right headspace to feel it all.

You wrap your hand around his dick, savoring

You gather the saliva pooling in your mouth at the sight of your lover below him and place yourself above where you hold him. Opening your mouth, saliva drips out, hitting the tip of his dick. You bring your hand up to cup around where it pools and loosen your grip as the spit slides down his length. He drops his head back, fully trusting you to deliver.

It doesn’t take much to get him hard. A couple flicks of your wrist and he’s firm in your hand. A pleased half smile graces your lips and you look up at him, taking slow, measured breaths to not lose himself in just your hand.

“You okay, baby?” You ask, pulling you hard away. He whines in response and you bite your lips, feeling the heat curl in your stomach. “What do you want tonight?”

“Don’t care,” he says, “Whatever you want.” His chin tilts up, revealing the tan expanse of his neck and the only thought in your head is to bite it.

So you do. You crawl your way up, throwing a leg over his hips and latching your mouth to his neck in a light bite, followed by a suck and kiss. His head tilts even more, pressing his neck into your neck. His hands clench the sheets above his head but remain where they are.

“Good boy,” you murmur into the skin, “You’re doing so good for me.”

He whimpers in response, eyes falling closed and mouth falling open. As you back off his neck and settle in his lap, you feel his erection pressing into your ass and decide to grind against it. The fabric of your underwear drags along his dick causing him to thrust into the attention.

“You’re so sexy, Lit,” you say, pressing your hands against his chest to steady yourself, “I’m so hot for you, baby.”

His eyes open and meet yours, the dark brown of his eyes melting into the black of his pupils. You know he’s been gone for a while, but each tease and touch earns you another moan or whimper. While you know somewhere in you, he deserves the break, something in you wants to see how far he can go until he breaks.

“Do you wanna feel me?” You ask and his head nods immediately, as if he couldn’t control it. His hair bounces with the nods and you move a hand to play with a strand of it. “Go ahead.”

His hands finally leave the spot from where he clutches the sheets and come down to your hips. He slides his hands up your sides lightly, treating you as if you were an ancient pottery piece that would break with more pressure than what he was giving you. You let your eyes fall closed and allow the sensations of his calloused hands run up your skin. They come up and across your chest before reaching your collarbones. Rough thumbs brush the skin there and you lean down, meeting his lips for the first time all night.

Like most things in his life, Lityerses approached kissing like a battle. His tongue immediately enters your mouth, ready to disarm you, however, after years of knowing his games, you were prepared to let him tire himself out as he explores your mouth. Once he backs off, you launch your counterattack, slipping between his own lips and tasting the nicotine residue from his earlier stress relief tactics and the cinnamon from his toothpaste.

His hands slide back down your sides and play with the waistband of your underwear before sliding up your shirt. You grind down against his dick as his toys with your nipples and moan into his mouth.

You sit up, moving out of his touch, and pull your shirt off. His hands remain where they were and you lean back down, slotting between them and whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to ride you now,” you flick your tongue at the lobe of his ear, “and you’re not going to cum until I say you can.”

He shudders with his whole body.

“Okay,” he pants, “yes, please.”

You climb off of him, pulling your underwear down as you root around your nightstand. Finding what you want, you turn back to him, tear the foil and slide the condom down his length. He gives a small thrust into your touch before settling back into the comfort of the bed. His hands found their way above his head again.

For a moment, you stand at the foot of the bed, admiring the image in front of you. A dark red colored this chest and neck all the way up to his cheeks and his eyelids had a weight to themselves, betraying the lust coursing through his body. His leg muscles were taut, as if ready to jump into action but just awaiting the right command.

You swallow hard, climbing back to your position above him. You reach behind yourself, grabbing the base of his dick to steady it before positioning it at your entrance. Just the tip brushed against it and you hiss in anticipation. Slowly, you slide down, feeling yourself split open.

Your mouth opens unbidden as his girth stretches inside you, something familiar and yet electrically charged all the same. When your hips meet his, his hands flex and curl in the sheets above his head. Your hands rest on his chest as your thighs hold the position.

“Fuck, Lit,” you pant, “you feel so good.” You roll your hips, testing the waters and his mouth falls open, hips stuttering as he tries to stay still for you. Your hands slide up his chest and you bend down, the friction triggering another hip stutter. You kiss him again as a sort of promise this time.

“Ready?” You ask. He nods. “Say it.”

“Yes, please, I’m ready,” the words fell from his lips, “Please, Apple, please give me everything you want to.”

You resituate yourself perched above him and roll your hips again. His dick slides out of you and as you fall back, it perfectly goes back in. You groan at the stretch and move again, finding a rhythm that works for you. His hands twitch above him in the folds of the sheets and his hips stay where they are.

“Lit,” You spit out. He grunts in response.

“Don’t just lay there,” you roll your hips again, “Fuck me.”

That was all it took. As soon as you said the first syllable, his hands flew down to your hips, gripping your ass tightly as he pulled his legs in to find footing on the bed. The first thrust punched a gasp out of you, digging deeper than you were able to get yourself. The next a broken moan. He didn’t change the pace you set, only worked with you to get deeper inside you.

The pleasure built too fast and your hands slipped up his chest as he sweat from the effort of working for your pleasure. You curl your arms around his neck as he continues hitting deep inside you, moans and grunts reverberating in your chest and ear.

The new position allowed you to grind against his lower abdomen. The friction sends a new sense of pleasure through your body and up your spine. Your own noises join his and echo around the room.

“So good, so tight,” Lit whimpers, “please, baby, you’re so perfect.”

You know its babble and he won’t remember specifics later. That’s what makes it even more delicious. This was what he really thinks of you, down to the most vulnerable and raw state.

It becomes too much, between his babbling moans, the rubbing against his body and the stretch of yourself around him sends you over the edge with stuttering hips and a deep moan. You tighten around him, knowing it will send him over the edge himself. Another couple thrusts and he stills, his hips climbing, digging deeper into you. Your hands grip tighter on his back, seeking anything to keep you anchored to the world.

Only a moment later is he relaxing, releasing his grip from your hips where it would surely bruise tomorrow and his legs sliding down the sheets. You brace yourself to slide off of him and in one quick movement, settle next to him on the bed.

“Was that okay?” You ask, running a finger over his chest, trailing the softening muscles there.

He's got an oral fixation, sorry to say it. He loves kissing you, your neck, sucking on it, leaving marks on you. He also loves sucking your nipples, the way you react leaves him delighted every single time.

He's surprisingly gentle the first time you try anything new and then after it works, he's so rough. He makes sure you're still safe, sane and consenting, but gods sometimes it takes you a full 24 hours to get back to your normal self.

He's the kind of lover that you end up remembering half-way through your work day and leaves you very blushy and stumbling around in your own brain for a minute.

He's vocal. Ohoho is he vocal. He whines, grunts, whimpers and praises you all throughout. If his mouth isn't occupied by your skin, he's crooning sweet, sweet words in your ear.