whole house hot idccc

Mike watched you wiping your tears from across the field, your teammates consoling you a little. At first, you tried lying, saying it’s the sun, the migraine, the period, but your friends knew better. He knew better. Mike gripped his clipboard, a frown marking his face. He hated seeing you like this. Against his better judgment, he decided to come closer.

“You said it yourself, babes,” your best friend had her arm around you, moving tear-soaked strands from your face, “he never wanted to fuck you. It’s important, you know it is.”

You just nodded, that pain half-laugh momentarily escaping your mouth.

“I just didn’t think it would hurt this bad,” you mumbled, trying not to burst into another crying fit. “We’ve been together for so long, and otherwise he was perf-”

“No. Fuck no,” your friend immediately interrupted. “Your needs were not met. And you don’t owe him a relationship just because he didn’t force fuck you when you were tired or sick. And didn’t you say that even when you did manage to do the nasty, he’d only cum jerking off? Come on, you owe yourself someone better.”

Mike had to admit, he wholeheartedly agreed. Someone better, how nicely put. Him.

“Stop clucking,” Mike growled at you two, waving at your friend to get lost.

“Coach, no, please, she’s really not-,” she tried, she really tried standing her ground for you, but you knew it was futile.

“Don’t make me fucking tell you again.”

With that, she mouthed a pitiful sorry at you and made herself scarce. You wiped your tears, tried to fix your hair a little. You could have carried on with your relationship, pretending nothing happened, not provoke Mike anymore and then think of him every time your boyfriend managed to get his dick up for you.

Except you couldn’t, for two reasons. First being that Mike wouldn’t stop, provoked or not. Second, you weren’t sure you wanted him to stop. The guilt was eating at you, absolutely, but there was also something freeing about the whole situation that Mike forced on you.

“I’m sorry, Coach,” you mumbled, your eyes momentarily drifting to his.

Mike didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. And then, just as you wanted to do more drills, he grabbed your face, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his long fingers pressing into your throat.

The reaction in you was immediate: breath hitching, heart beating, palms sweating… And pussy wetting.

Mike was looking at you from behind his glasses like he wanted to eat you or drag you into the locker room to fuck the tears out of you. Instead, his lips curved into a rather smug smile.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending another pleasurable jolt through you.

It didn’t take long for him to start screaming at you again when, not even forty-five minutes later, you kept missing your free kicks. Literally all of them would go wide over the net, not even close to the beam.

“Stop over-extending your fucking leg!” Mike yelled, already halfway to you, watching you fumble yet another kick. “These are rookie fucking kicks, what the fuck are you doing?”

You could hear him working himself into another hoarse throat situation, straining his vocal cords to the maximum. Not that you weren’t frustrated with yourself and your lack of follow-through and precision, mangling something that usually came with such ease to you. You felt pathetic. You were pathetic.

Even your teammates were at a loss for words, probably ascribing your lack of performance to your temporary emotional upset. You just wanted Mike to stop screaming at you, because if he managed to get you in your usual state, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.

“What now, Micha-,” you cut yourself off in the middle of the yell, swallowing the rest of his government name, reminding yourself he asked you not to use it. 

“Other goal,” Mike growled, staring daggers at you. “Now.”

Just what you needed, spending the rest of the practice running drills with Mike. Alone.

“This is all your fault,” you spat out bitterly, watching Mike’s knuckles turn white and the clipboard caving under his grasp.

“Shut. Up. Fucking brat.”

It wasn’t that bad, actually, once you cooled off. Well, partially at least, still pressing your jaw shut, feeling the burn in your calf after repeated shots. You were tired, sweaty, and frustrated, and more tears threatened to burst out of you any second now. Luckily, the coach called the whistle, but before you even blinked in that direction, Mike crowded you.

Standing in front of you, making sure no one could see you from that side of the field, his eyes quickly darted around to see if anyone was paying attention.

Then, he turned back to you, brows furrowed, jaw clenched, and that flush spreading all over his face and neck.

“From now on, you will keep your mouth shut. You don’t talk back, and you don’t speak when I speak. Got it, angel?” his voice dropped on the last word to a throaty whisper.

You noticed how big his pupils were and how his lower left eyelid twitched. Mike took a step towards you, your nose almost touching his chest. Your breathing deepened again, and you looked up at him, wondering what he had on his mind.

“Open your mouth,” Mike whispered, his voice making you tremble. 

You had no idea what he wanted, but you obeyed. Slowly, you relaxed your jaw, eyes still trained on Mike’s. 

“More,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your lips, watching your tensed tongue resting behind your teeth.

When he was finally happy, he spat in your mouth without a warning. Wet warmth spread across your tongue, drops landing over your lips and around them. 

Sharply inhaling through your nose, your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed and aroused.

“Every time you open your mouth,” he watched you swallow every last drop, your tongue  greedily dragging across your lips, “remember that only good girls get this.”

“Yes, Coach,” your eyes were still closed, the musky scent of Mike’s sweat still reaching your nose.

“Off you go then.”

**

“You okay?” your teammates rallied around you in the locker room, some faces concerned, some curious, some rather smug.

“Hm? Yeah, of course,” you dismissed them, but they still prodded.

“Why did he grab your face like that?” one voice asked, and you couldn’t really pinpoint who brought it up. 

“He did what?” another voice piped up, and suddenly everyone was crowding around you like you were a wise old grandmother telling a scary story to a bunch of wide-eyed children.

“Ughh,” you growled, irritated to the bone. “I just struck a nerve, and he lost it a little. What’s new, right?” you laughed it off, putting on your best nonchalant face, shrugging. 

The voices started again, everyone talking over each other, and not even your friend could tell them off. Clucking, as Mike said, was the correct word. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to breathe.

“All right!” you finally yelled. “I get it, this is obviously taking too much attention from the game and the team. “I promise…” your eyes drifted from face to face, and then you looked at your captain, a woman you expected much more of than to allow these verbal offences, “that I will set all my differences aside and talk to Mike. And now, if you excuse me, I need to cry a little bit more.”

It worked, their excitement immediately dropped in disappointment that you wouldn’t trash Mike some more. You suddenly felt stupid for even doing so; venting in the locker room was common, but this personal beef you and Mike had for literal years had obviously been nothing but entertainment. 

No one cared how much you suffered when his comments started, no one cared about your problems and issues; you were nothing but a class clown, a court jester. It washed over you, the wave of realisation, followed by sadness, disappointment, and emptiness.

You took a deep breath. No more.

**

It was two in the morning, and you were still tossing and turning, trying to sleep. Mike still hasn’t kept up with his promise, and you started to believe he only said it in the heat of the moment. 

Pulling your eye mask down your face, you turned around, happy that at least you didn’t feel like crying anymore. And then you heard it, a beep and a door creak, but you still decided to pretend you were asleep, deep breathing and all.

Mike laid down next to you, gently, his arm enveloping you, immediately settling between your tits, before grabbing one.

“You smell so good, angel,” he whispered against your neck, inhaling deeply. He was hard already, again, pressing his cock against your ass.

You finally stirred, trying to reach for your mask, but Mike caught your wrist.

“Leave it on,” he chuckled, his lips dragging over the strained muscles of your neck, enjoying the warmth of your skin. 

“I’m gonna make you so happy, angel, I know I can,” Mike cooed, pushing his tongue in your slightly open mouth, teasing a breathy moan out of you.

“Yes, Coach,” you mumbled between sloppy kisses, your hands dragging Mike closer and closer, until he was on top of you.

And then he started moaning, deep, throaty sounds that sent little jolts through your whole body, pooling heat directly in your pussy, tiny little spasms shocking their way through your abdomen. 

His fingers, extended, drew a line starting at your throat, going lower, playing with your nipple, and even lower, slowly dragging over the thin fabric of your tank top, until he reached your panties, an obvious wet spot blooming.

He teased you through the soft cotton, his fingers pushing in a little, then dragging all the way up towards your clit, then back down again; you arched your back into Mike, begging in your mind for him to just move your panties to the side and stick his cock back in, and stay like that until morning, fuck you into the mattress.

“Did you wear these for me?” he teased, his fingers playing with the bow on your panties and sliding over the lacy parts.

“Yes, Coach,” you whispered, enjoying the way his tongue dragged over your throat, your heart hitching even higher at the vibrations his chuckle made against your sweaty skin. 

“Good girl.”

And then he slid lower, his lips leaving sticky wet kisses on your collarbone; somehow he managed to pull off your tanktop without disturbing the mask, his mouth immediately closing around your nipple, his teeth grazing it.

He grabbed both of your tits, pressing and massaging, and you couldn’t do anything but moan, enjoying how much Mike wanted you.

“So pretty when you’re so needy,” he breathed out, going lower and lower, until he reached your panties. Mike started sucking and teasing your clit through the fabric.

Your whole body writhed in pleasure as you reflexively pushed your hips towards Mike’s mouth.

“Let me hear you, angel,” he mumbled, hastily removing your panties too, guiding both of your legs over his shoulders. He gently pushed one finger inside you, then the second one too, laughing at how greedily your pussy swallowed them. 

You whimpered, jerking your hips, when he tried to push the third one.

“I know, angel, I know,” he cooed, “but we need to stretch you properly, don’t we? It barely fit the last time.”

He returned his attention to your clit, goading you towards the orgasm, feeling how your pussywalls started to tense and flutter around his fingers, listening to how your moans fell into needy whimpers; your hand grabbed his hair, and Mike couldn’t help himself but moan against your pussy.

“You taste so fucking good, angel, I can’t get enough,” he mumbled, his thumb now drawing tight little circles over your clit. 

“Mike,” you moaned, overwhelmed, immediately biting your tongue. For a moment, you got scared he’d punish you, especially now since you were so close, that knot in your stomach threatening to explode.

“Good girl,” Mike moaned against your mound. “My good girl.”

When he felt you coming, he immediately lowered his head, greedily lapping up your juices as your body trembled in the best orgasm of your life. You had no idea how loud you were or what exactly you were saying, so thoroughly overwhelmed and overstimulated. But Mike wasn’t finished with you, far from it.

As your body relaxed, he pulled out his fingers, sucking on them, watching as your pussy glistened. You whined a little at a loss, but he replaced it with his cock soon enough, your legs still draped over his broad shoulders.

In one quick thrust, he pushed in and folded you up, hitting deeper than before. It was still a stretch, his big, fat cock spearing you in half. You whined in pleasure, begging Mike to fuck you hard.

“Fuck, angel, I can’t even think,” Mike kept snapping his hips, barely delaying his own pleasure to watch your tits bounce up and down and feel your nails against his skin. You lost all sense of time, tasting yourself repeatedly on Mike’s tongue, your hands pulling at his hair and drawing blood on his shoulders, as you kept begging and begging.

“Tell me you’re close,” Mike whispered, “because I want to flood your pussy so badly.”

“No, Coach,” you mumbled in response, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my poor baby angel,” he teased a little, “how about you take that mask off, let me see those pretty eyes, hm?”

“Please come into my mouth,” you begged, finally looking at Mike’s flushed, sweaty face.

“What?” his hips stuttered, slowing down.

“I want to taste you, please,” you pulled him in another desperate kiss.

Mike tried, he really wanted to indulge you, but before your lips even touched, he started coming with long, hoarse grunts, his mind and body overcome by the amount of your desire for him. You could feel it, Mike emptying his balls, the hot sticky seed spilling in you, dripping out of you.

“I’m sorry, angel,” Mike mumbled, falling forward after freeing your legs from his feverish hold. “Next time, I promise.” His lips went back to the same spot where they were the last time, just behind your ear, as he started to suck tiny bruises into your skin. 

You groaned.

“Tell me I don’t have to wait three to five business days again. Didn’t you boast every night, angel, I want you to come around my cock every night?” you mocked him, imitating his manner of speech.

“Behave,” he breathed, somewhat amused.

“Yeah, yeah,” you countered, rolling your eyes and pouting. 

You could still feel his cum dripping out of you, sticking you two together, his hot breath on your neck making your nipples harden again. You were so insanely insatiable, needing Mike to go again, last longer, fuck all your holes, or at least the ones his cock could fit into. 

“Behave,” he gritted out, his hand falling onto your throat.

You smiled smugly at him, suddenly feeling his limp cock twitching against your thigh.

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You loved being on your knees for your man. You loved being around Maekar all the time. Summerhall was different with you on it, and Gods know that if it was up to you, and the kids weren’t here, you two would fuck like rabbits on every room.

Not that you haven’t tried. Or done. 

“You’re so big” you say to him, your hand stroking lazily the base of his cock. 

“Am I?” He asks softly, chuckling. His hand on your hair, fistful full of loose hair, as you never got them properly braided. He didn’t care, as Summerhall was his, and if his wife wanted to be indecorous… let her be.

“Yeah. So big” your tone is practically drunk, the tip against your mouth as you speak, moving to suck him. 

His cock was heavy and leaking, you’d always found him like that when you undid his breeches; Hard, leaking precum and his balls full of cum. Make your mouth water.

Maekar groans, seeing you bob your head against his cock, not having a single drop of decorum. 

“Get up.” He says, pulling you out of his cock by the hair, and you love it when he pulls your hair.  

At this hour, after having midday meal with all of Maekar’s children, he had sent them off to the yard for training , even if it was unreasonable, and welcomed both Daella and Rhae to train if they wished as well.  No wonder why, as he wanted you all to himself for a few hours. 

“Come here” His mouth has a smirk as he pulls you closer to the bed, your back against his chest as he moves you whoever he pleases. “So wet already” He grunts against your neck, undoing the laces of your nightshift. “Tryna make me fit inside your pretty pussy, hm?”

“Yeah, yeah” you murmur slightly dizzy from the pleasure. 

Maekar always prepared you first, realising that you needed to be a bit stretched before taking him properly so it doesn’t hurt. Even if it was a quickie.

You cannot resist your husband. He had been complaining and grunting, being all grumpy about something that Aerion had done, coming to your chambers to take a break. 

He had groaned as he sat on the chair, leaning back lazily as his legs spread wide to be comfortable, as if the bulge on his breeches would go unnoticed by you.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight” He groans, hugging your waist as he slides himself inside your warm cunt, his chest moving to press against your back.

“No, it’s that– you’re just too big!” You say trying to gain your breath, your hands flat against the mattress as if to keep your head from being buried against the mattress.

He reaches for one of those tedious and nerve-racking (in his opinion) small velvet cushions, placing them under your head, and a bigger one under your hips. 

“There” he grunts, moving back in. “You lured me into fucking you” 

You nod softly, feeling his cock slide inside once again. You feel so full, stretched against his cock in a way you can’t think of anything else. 

The first few sways of his hips were always a bit numbing to you, because it felt like too much at once. Yet Maekar always made sure the servants prepared a bath for you afterwards. 

“You can feel me all the way in, hm?” Maekar says, moving your hair to press a kiss on your shoulders. “Real deep” 

“Yeah…” you say breathlessly, feeling how he starts swaying his hips. “Fuck‐-”

“That’s it…” he soothes you, his hand moving to press down your lower back, as he starts pounding into your cunt. 

The gushing sounds were loud, as his balls slapped against your flesh, you could hear his grunts behind you, as if the task took him tremendous effort. 

Earlier on the day, before Maekar went away for his duties and his children woke up to start whining at him, he had eaten your pussy under the sheets. 

“Can’t take it, too much” you say to him, as his cock filled you to the brim. It was a delicious stretch, but overwhelming all the same. 

“Hm?” He asks, not clearly listening to your words.

“I can’t take it” you whine. 

“You can take it” He assures you, stopping for a second, kissing the side of your face. “Hm? You can, don’t tell me you can’t baby”

“It’s too big…”

 “We’ll make it fit” He promises, and he always has. 

His hands move from your skin, from your stomach to your pussy, his fingers in your folds, as his middle finger quickly finds your clit, circling it just the way you like it.

His left arm moves to wrap itself around your throat, just as you always beg Maekar to do. He doesn’t squeeze, he simply lays it here as both the movement of his fingers on your clit and the feeling of being full by his cock overwhelm you. 

When he thrusts again, you don’t feel like you can’t take it, but feel like you want him to make you cum again and again, until you can’t think. 

“There you go…” He grunts, his fingers working nonstop. “You’re always take me so fucking well”

You nod senselessly as you feel the head of his cock hit your cervix, the simple way he slides himself in makes you shake in pleasure at the feeling; you can’t help the way your eyes roll back, how your legs slightly shake and how loud you are. 

“It’s so big!” You moan loudly, “Fuck me harder, harder”

His arm squeezes your throat slightly as he moans as well, his hand moving away from your clit as he needs to support himself to change the angle. You know he will be pissy about his back later, but you cannot care now. 

“Gods, yes. Maekar, fuck, fuck, it is so big”

His hips never falter, the pace of his thrusts become more animalistic, allowing himself to do it however he wanted as you were stretched for his cock. 

You feel his arm under your chin, as you were quite trapped by Maekar. As his thrusts push you forward, his arm stops you, keeping you in place as if you were a toy for his cock. You absolutely love it.

“Harder, harder”

“As you wish, wife”

The ring of the bell is what fills the silence below the stairs..

“Oh. Thought they would take longer” the valet, Grenn says, frowning as he looks at his cards. 

“Nay, she never lasts when the prince does…” the maid, Violet, says, receiving a stern gaze from the housekeeper. “Nevermind, I shall mind my tongue.” 

“And you better fetch the oils for the missus, they are in the back” the housekeeper says. “I have prepared the water so we better be quick, I’ll ask the manservant to bring the tub”

It was quite the routine, and every servant at Summerhall knew; as soon as the Prince and his wife started with their martial duties, the bell would ring requesting for a warm bath. Now, they simply arrive with the water and the linens instead of waiting for them to ask for it.

“But I have the winning hand” 

“I’ll fetch it” another of the maids said, as she moves to the back “But it is your turn to wash the lady, I washed her in the morning”

“Fine.” 

Even if everyone worked quickly, the ring rang again, longer and more persistent. 

“That’s the prince” The valet speaks loudly, trying to be heard above the ring, standing up and leaving his cards on the table. “I was going to lose anyways”

As they all walk upstairs, holding the chest with multiple oils for baths and the linens for the couple, Violet asks “You think the prince is actually big?”

“Watch yer tongue!” The other maid says chuckling, and adds “Wives always exaggerate, y’know what men want to hear.”

“Well, Grenn dresses the Prince” both pairs of eyes turn to him “Is he quite big as the lady says?”

“None of your business” The valet says, not saying a word about it as he carries the chest.

When you open the door, wearing a deep green robe,  you see your handmaidens ready for a bath before you even ask for it. 

“Oh, how did you know…” You ask as the maids bring the tub inside your rooms, next to the fire. 

You see two of your handmaids giggling softly, a bit puzzled. 

“We are always prepared m’lady”

You see Maekar roll his eyes as he lays back against the pillows, not worried about anything, but already grumpy about their ‘delay’ as he always grunts. You were a bit shy to have maids for anything, but he was used to it, not caring if they saw him naked or not. 

“What oil do you wish for today?” Violet asks softly. “We used lavender by the morning, perhaps you wish for something new, m’lady?”

“Oh… yes, I…” you feel your cheeks redden. “What would you like, my love?”

Maekar grunts “Whatever fucking smell works faster” He says, one oh his arm around his abdomen as the other moves behind his head. 

You watch as they pour the water, working easily as you wait for them to do all of the work.

“Have my children finished training?” Maekar asks the housekeeper. 

“No, my Prince. I believe they were fighting to see who could… shot an arrow more far away.”

He closes his eyes as he lets out a deep sigh. Those children…

“Fine. Go away, all of you”

“My prince?”

“I will bathe my wife, so leave all those shit there, I’ll take care of it” He waves a dismissive hand, before adding “And do not bother us , unless one of my children gets fucking shot by the other. Or if Aerion tries to challenge Daeron to a duel, again.”

"Have you no shame at all, woman?" he grouched, face pinched in irritation as you lifted the tunic until it pooled under his armpits, revealing his chest and belly in all its glory. "Disrobing me and pawing at my flesh like I'm nothing but a toy to be played with when I'm exhausted from the bloody fucking—"

But you were barely listening to what your husband was saying, and frankly, in that moment, you had no qualms about paying mind to what came out of his mouth. All you cared about was how good he looked in that moment, leaning back against the pillows of your bed, still sweaty and dirty from the royal hunt he attended, looking every inch a man. All muscle and sinew and Gods, the smatterings of fine silver hairs all over his chest and belly, and all the way lower on his navel, where a white trail of hair led right beneath the waistband of his breeches, to his cock.

You almost sighed thinking of it. You loved your husband's cock. It was one of the best things about him.

"You're exhausted," you parroted, humming as your soft hands continued to caress his stomach, pressing your fingers in, kneading at the skin like a cat, leisurely and appreciative, eliciting a displeased groan from your husband. "So sit back and indulge me for a few moments, dear husband."

Maekar only scowled at you, the furrow between his brows deepening, lip curling in a snarl as he leaned forward, trying to loom, to intimidate in hopes you would cease pestering him. "Don't dear husband me, you aggravating woman," he gritted, teeth barred, akin to a dragon before it unlatched its jaws to breathe fire and ash in anger. It made you warm under your chemise. You loved it when your husband was all snappy and indignant.

You leaned forward, undeterred by his little intimidation tactic, noses almost brushing as you spoke, your tone soft and persuasive, as if beckoning a wild animal that might bite. "You were gone for so long, and I have been here, all alone, missing you like a limb," you lamented, distracting him from the way your fingers trailed along the waistband of his breeches now, prodding at the pudgy roll of fat there, loving the soft feel of it. "The least you could do is yield to my whims for a while."

Aware that it wouldn't be enough to placate your husband, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his scarred cheek, leaving chaste, sweet kisses on the skin as you murmured. "You always look so good after a hunt, husband," you appeased, relentless in your pursuit of what you wanted, especially when it was something as delicious as touching Maekar freely without him grumbling in your ear incessantly. "Makes me want to devour you whole," your tone was on the precipice of resembling a purr, lips descending towards the strong line of his jaw and down his neck, nuzzling at the sweaty skin in delight.

As always, he tried to persist, even as you felt his skin warm and flush under your lips, making your mouth curl into a satisfied smile. You had him exactly where you wanted him, even if he was still resisting.

"You're being ridiculous," and oh, he was already panting softly, broad chest heaving along with the warm breaths that brushed your temple as you littered his ruddy-skinned throat in wet kisses. "Pouncing on me like a cat in heat the second, ah—fuck," he cursed right when your tongue laved at his skin, tasting the remnants of the hunt. The sweat, the grime, the dirt—him, musky and manly and oh so palatable. “Stop. I reek of filth and—”

“And I love it,” you moaned against his throat, mouth parting to press open—mouthed kisses to the skin of his throat, tongue licking at every remnant of perspiration, catching it against your palate and savoring it like the finest arbor gold. “You smell s’ good, husband, gods. I want to lick you all over.”

It always got like this. The more disheveled he returned, the more aroused you got. Shame had deserted you moons ago, being absurdly vocal about how much you enjoyed when your husband was anything but presentable and pristine.

Maekar made an aborted sound at your words, already flushed all the way to the tip of his ears, one rough hand moving to clasp the back of your nape and squeeze in hopes of deterring your assault on his senses, but it seemed in vain. The touch only spurred you, a soft sound resembling a purr rumbling against his throat as you continued to press your tongue to his skin, dipping it to taste the touch of grime gathered in the hollow of his throat.

“Filthy,” Maekar snarled, fingers squeezing just so at your nape and pulling upwards, eliciting a disgruntled sound from you; a whine. Your lips were slick with spit, cheeks flushed and eyes blown wide, hazy with heat and adoration, which only made the pressure of his hand increase, reprimanding you for how far gone you already looked. “You’re a filthy, dirty woman, you know that?” he spat, tone brooking on a growl.

“Always have been,” Maekar continued, tightening his hold onto your nape, the pads of his fingers restricting your breath for just a moment, just enough to make you gasp, before he eased it. “Getting hot and bothered by your soiled husband like a degenerate,” his thumb brushed against your throat, where he gripped prior, the closest thing to quiet tenderness you could get in that moment, but it made warmth spread through you regardless.

“What of it?” you challenged, dipping your head back to his throat, nosing along the flushed skin, your soft fingers resuming their pawing along his belly, pressing and prodding at the pudgy flesh there, nails scraping along the trail of fine hairs leading below his waistband, making your husband hiss. “It’s your smell I crave, your taste—” another filthy lick, along the jut of his collarbones, before moving downwards towards his chest, where the smattering of hair was thicker, the smell of sweat and musk more pungent.

Maekar tensed as soon as he felt your lips brush against one of his pecs, and you could feel the shiver that ran through him when the tip of your nose nudged a nipple, willing it to harden.

“Don’t you fucking dare—”

You did it again, nosing at the pebbling bud once, twice. Then, you licked it, slow and wet, circling the nipple with the tip of your tongue, flicking teasingly.

A garbled moan punched out of Maekar’s chest, his hold on your nape tightening anew, his other hand fisting the sheets under him, white—knuckled and trembling with restraint. You could tell he wanted to shove you away, to haul you as far as possible from his body so he wouldn’t be able to feel all this, to have to succumb to your whims and depravity. But you also knew he liked it. Craved your attention like poison in his veins. Hated that he needed it. Snarled and snapped his jaws while being half—hard already beneath his breeches, blushing from the tips of his ears to where your mouth was currently busied, lips parting to suckle noisily at his nipple, drawing out another restrained, delicious grunt from your husband.

“Look at you,” he managed to bite out through gritted teeth, broad chest heaving under your mouth, voice thinner, breathier. “Licking and sucking like a common whore,—”

But you didn’t let him finish, letting your teeth scrape against the bud, nipping at it enough to sting, halting his crude words, making him curse, back arching, pushing his chest more into your awaiting mouth. It was a reprimand, but also a sick, twisted pleasure. Seeing your husband bucking and snarling under your lips and tongue was a sight you could never get tired of, much like right now, as you laved one last lick to his wet, swollen nipple, before nosing between his pecs through the fine hairs there, inhaling the scent of him like a woman possessed.

“How would you know what common whores do, mhm, husband?” you murmured, nuzzling along the underside of his pecs, letting your lips press against the skin in damp kisses as you descended towards his stomach, fingers still trailing along the hairs leading towards his navel. “Have you been indulging without my knowledge?”

Each question was a taunt, like dangling a hunk of meat under a dragon’s nose, waiting for it to bite. And you loved nothing more than to taunt your dragon until he bit, until you could feel his teeth sink in, metaphorically or not.

And he always bit.

“You think I would debase myself with some pleasure house wench?” he snarled, violet eyes glinting with something close to offense, which made you preen quietly, warmth spreading through your chest like drizzled honey.

As you nosed along his stomach, you couldn’t help but breathe him in again, mouth parting in soft pants as your eyes fluttered, the musk of him stronger the closer you got to the V—shape of his hips. “I would hope you wouldn’t, dear husband,” you mouthed along his belly, tongue poking out to lick at the skin, tasting him again. “I would be thoroughly scorned if you so dared,” another lap of your tongue, slow and filthy, this time along the trail of hair near the waistband of his breeches, feeling a slight tickle onto your palate.

But, gods, the scent—the taste of him.

Musky and sweaty and man.

It drove you wild, lips pressing to that tempting silver line, open-mouthed and slow, savoring him on your tongue again and again, as if you couldn’t get enough.

A groan slipped unbidden from Maekar’s mouth, fingers tightening at your nape, as if remembering he still had a hold on you, blunt nails biting at the skin light enough to make you shiver as he pressed with firmness, as if scruffing a cat. “Don’t need some perfumed, wanton wench when I have my hands full with you,” he panted, eyes trained on you, almost unblinking, having watched you the entire time, despite his protests. Lavender hues half—lidded, glinting, part anger, part heat, eyeing you like a predator stalking prey.

His words made you purr against his skin, a satisfied sound, your fingers moving to tug slightly at his waistband, revealing more of his navel to you to lick and kiss. “Good,” you murmured into his skin, dipping to nose at the cincture of his pants, and lower, nuzzling against his crotch, where you could feel him hard and throbbing already.

“Woman, you—” but his protest dissolved into a shuddering moan as you rubbed your cheek against his clothed cock insistently, eyes fluttering, gaze holding his, molten and smoldering with heated affection. The friction was delicious, and it only made more bitten-off, pleasured sounds fall from his lips, broad chest heaving, splotched red from how hard he was blushing, skin ruddy and flushed. He looked good enough to eat. And maybe later, you intended to do just that.

The scent of him was strongest there, musk so strong it made you dizzy with want, lips parting to mouth at his crotch, feeling his cock throb beneath the cloth, only spurring you on. “Smell s’ good,” you mumbled as you continued to map the hard ridge of his arousal with your mouth, tongue laving at the material, wetting it with your spit, making the outline of his cock even more visible. “Taste s’ good, husband.”

“Gods, fuck—” came from above you, the grip at your nape firming, pressing down, almost smushing your face into his crotch, but you couldn’t be happier to succumb to Maekar’s guidance, feeling his hips twitch upwards, rutting weakly against your face.

It made you moan, the action so debauched, so depraved, making you nose along his clothed cock in time with the clumsy grinding of his hips against your face, the scent of him thickening, clogging your senses and coating the back of your throat from how greedily you inhaled.

“C—can’t believe you’re, shit—” he could barely get his words out, too impaired by the way you looked, the blissful look on your face as he humped against it. “Can’t believe you’re getting off on this, you wanton woman,” Maekar continued, his hips picking up the pace, forcing you slightly more against his clothed cock, grinding against your cheek, the corner of your mouth, your nose; anything he could, the pleasure tingling down his spine way too rapid for his taste. “Mouthing at me like a filthy animal, letting me hump—fuck.”

You could tell he was getting close, the thought satisfying you more than you could tell. Seeing your husband so unraveled by this alone, hips grinding against your face, hand holding you down for more delicious friction, chasing more but not being able to get it. A delicious torture that was way too exquisite not to witness.

“Mhm,” you hummed against his crotch, rubbing your cheek harder against his clothed cock, feeling it throb incessantly, the smell of him more pungent, the precum leaking steadily through his breeches and staining your cheek. “Not my fault my husband left me unattended for so long,” you lamented, fluttering your lashes, continuing to rub against him. “I’ve been so lonely.” The words were mouthed against him, breath warm against his crotch, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Always so fuckin’ demanding,” he groaned, long and suffering, humping against your face with more fervor, so close to his peak, face and throat flushed and splotchy, hand firm against your nape as he pushed your face deeper into his crotch. “N—never satisfied, ah, fuck, fuck, wife—,”

Wife. The word strained and close to a whine as he lost control, rutting against your plush cheek once, twice, before he came with a pained groan, as if someone clawed the sound from deep in his chest, his spent dirtying his breeches, wetting the fabric against your cheek.

His chest was heaving, mouth parted wide as he tried to catch his breath, his grip still firm, but trembling against your nape, his thumb now brushing along the side of your throat, just like before, as if rewarding you silently, thanking you for letting him use you like this.

It made you smile, and you nuzzled into his now damp crotch, the smell of him more powerful than ever, making you moan against the cloth. The sound seemed to bring Maekar back from his post coital bliss, his violet eyes blinking down at you, hazy but attentive.

“Lick it,” he breathed out, voice strained and heaving still, the fingers at your nape guiding you towards where his cum stained his breeches most, a wet patch visible where the head of his now softening cock was under the cloth. “Can’t let good spend go to waste, wife.”

You only hesitated for a heartbeat, mind not wrapping around his words for a moment, before you moaned, mouth parting eagerly, tongue pressing to the damp material and licking, feeling the taste of him invade your palate. “Yes, yes,” you sighed, overly pleased, too preoccupied and greedy, lips wrapping around the wet spot and suckling it into your mouth, the essence exploding onto your tongue.

“Fucking filthy woman—,” Maekar cursed, the sight of his wife, so desperate and eager, making him equal parts flustered and astounded.

You knew the night was going to be a long one when you felt a twitch under your tongue, your husband’s cock throbbing back to life, making your lips curl.