sweet angel princess

But he's just so fucking big. Buried in you so deep. All nine inches of him, hard and heavy and utterly and completely filling. All 6'5 of his height and 240 pounds of his weight pinning you down beneath him.

Sometimes he's too big.

Clark shifts above you. He's still got you in that mating press, but now one of his arms is tucking beneath your waist, moving your hips up just enough to make him push deeper into you. You gasp. It's the first time that you're able to suck in that much air since he's been on top of you.

"Clark!" you whine, loud and stilted and a little strained. You'd been screaming all fucking night. You're surprised you even have a voice anymore.

"S'too big!"

He smiles against your neck. Trails a few soft kisses on the column of your throat before he lifts his head out of your neck and looks down at you. You don't realize he's taken his arm out from beneath your waist until you feel his hand on your chin tilting your face down and forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Did I hear that right? It's too big, baby?"

He punctuates that question by pulling back, almost completely out of you, then pushing all the way back in. Every fucking inch. All in less than a second. A quick, deep thrust, one that punches all of the air out of your lungs for the thousandth time tonight. Your back arches as much as it can with all of his heft on top of you. The shallow excuse of a breath you had frantically sucked in gets shoved out of your chest.

“Yes!” you squeak out. Clark laughs at you; it’s not cruel, but it has your already flushed face burning a little more. He presses his hips a little deeper, a little harder, and your eyes roll back into your head. That ache, that familiar burn with getting stretched open on his cock, is the most confusing thing; feels so good even though he’s practically on the verge of splitting you in half. You throw your head back, and your hips squirm, and your fingers dig into the bedsheets beneath your body so you can try and pull yourself away from him.

It’s no use, though. Clark’s hand leaves your chin and attaches to your right hip, his hold on you tight and sturdy; you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. Not that you’d actually want to, of course.

“You want me to take it out?” he asks.

That question wasn’t really a question. Maybe it was a threat. Or a death sentence, because taking all of that pain and pleasure away before you can finish might actually kill you. Almost as much of a death sentence as the way he pulls his hips back; this time, he pulls all the way back. Completely out of you. He keeps the thick, blunt tip of his cock pressed against your cunt, though. What a fucking tease.

Your eyes shoot open and, through all your quick panting and pathetic whimpering, you manage to glare at him and cry out, “No!”

He flashes one of those pretty crooked smiles at you. Always so cocky whenever he hasn’t earned the right to be. Just makes him hotter.

“No?” he asks. Then he huffs.

“Thought you said it was too big, honey?”

You start to push out a garbled mess of a protest, but you cut yourself off with a guttural, borderline animalistic moan when you feel him gently glide his length through your sensitive folds. A soft, back and forth rocking that only lasts a couple seconds. The slick sound when he rolls his hips back and forth is nothing but sinful. Makes your pussy flutter and clench around—much to your dismay—nothing.

“Please,” you beg, breathy and whiny and pathetic above all else. You haven’t been able to take a full, deep breath since he’s started fucking you. Unfortunately, the panicking from how he isn’t fucking you anymore has squeezed your lungs like a vice. Can’t take a deep breath without him fucking you, either. All you can do is pant up at him like some sort of bitch in heat, and…well, it wouldn’t be a stretch to classify yourself as one.

Clark picks up on that, judging by the way his hand glides up your stomach and toward your chest. His palm lays over the center of it, allowing his fingers to splay out over your flushed, sticky skin. His hand is, just like him, massive. Proportionate to his gigantic body. The tips of his fingers can reach your collarbones while his thumb is steadily brushing back and forth over the spot just above your heart. He could probably hear it hammering in your chest, just like he can hear every pitiful excuse of a breath you keep trying to suck in.

“Tell you what,” he mutters. “You take one deep breath for me, and I’ll put it back in.”

“Clark,” you groan, a wobbly little pant that you struggled to get out.

“Breathe,” he commands. “Breathe, or you’re not getting what you want.”

Now he’s holding himself hostage from you. Of course.

In true Clark fashion, he teases you while he’s waiting for your response. Continues to gently glide his cock through your folds, letting out a soft, low growl and hanging his head for a moment. He laughs, breathy and a little desperate, and his hips buck. It sends a jolt through both of your bodies; seems like the idiot’s gone and teased himself, too.

“Better do it fast, honey. Don’t think I can last much longer.”

How does one force their brain to force their lungs to manually breathe? In, out, in, out. Seems pretty simple. But your brain doesn’t wanna cooperate, because all you can feel is the tip of Clark’s cock brushing over your clit again and again and again as he keeps rolling his hips. You whimper so loudly that it echoes off your bedroom walls; when your head falls back onto your pillow, you shut your eyes. Squeeze them so tight that you see stars—although that could also be because of the oxygen you’ve been depriving yourself of.

Then, it happens. You do some sort of hard reset. You suck in a big, deep breath, chest fully expanding and bumping against Clark’s.

“Atta girl. I knew you could do it,” he purrs. Leans down to press soft kisses on your chin, and the corner of your lips, and down your jaw while he lines himself up and sinks right back into your cunt. There’s no resistance at all. Your breath hitches in your throat and you tense up, mouth dropping open without any permission from your brain. Although, your brain’s letting you down a lot right now, so…best to not depend on it.

“Give me another deep breath, baby,” Clark whispers, breath fanning out against your ear. He’s buried to the hilt again, voice a little strung out and voice a little shaky. But he’s doing a lot better than you, so who are you to talk?

You can’t breathe again. He’s too deep, and he feels too good, and the angle he’s got you at is keeping his tip pressed right against that spongy spot that makes you shake when he pays too much attention to it. Your fingers, desperate to find something to tear up, meet his shoulders—if he was a normal human being, you’d have left a few deep cuts in his back from how hard you just clawed down it.

But you manage to do it after a beat. To suck in a deep breath, to moan it out, to blubber about how good he’s got you feeling. Or maybe it was just gibberish. Who knows? At least you got the air in. At least you rediscovered how to breathe.

“Just like that, baby. Good girl,” he praises you. Honey-sweet, like he always is.

“You keep breathing deep and slow like that for me, and we’ll go as long as you want.”

taglist: @clarkscolumn @unificsation @luvekent @tooloudarts @clarknsun @pinksplace @tw1sters @kryptidfiles @thceseus @sparklingsin @anon-188 @avgdestitute @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @maiamore @scorpioriesling @icybarness @mxbluess22

also this was inspired by this dumbass conversation that @clarkscolumn and i had at an ungodly hour of the night

You'd been struggling at work lately…just a little and it certainly, definitely, wasn't because you'd finally gotten fucked. 

Being dickmatized wasn't a real thing…you were about eighty-six percent sure of that, though the number seemed to drop every morning you woke up thinking about Scott before your alarm even went off. 

Your lack of focus had absolutely nothing to do with the way he'd ruined your standards a few nights ago…the problem simply was the men around you. You were back at the office now, which meant instead of dealing with one irritating man, you were surrounded by twenty. 

None of them understood the concept of an inside voice, half of them apparently thought deodorant was optional and for reasons beyond your comprehension, at least one of them always felt compelled to announce that his balls itched to whoever happened to be standing nearby. You'd abandoned your desk before lunch and barricaded yourself inside one of the glass meeting rooms, the thicker walls muting the chaos outside without cutting you off completely. 

You could still see everyone moving through the office and they could still see you buried behind your laptop, which was enough to keep people from accusing you of hiding, which you were definitely NOT doing. Unfortunately, the spreadsheet glowing on your screen had long since blurred into meaningless numbers. Instead, you sat staring at it while trying to figure out how to fix yourself before weather alerts put you and Scott back on the road together. 

Maybe celibacy deserved another shot and maybe one incredible night was enough for another long while. You'd had great sex, you'd been thoroughly fucked and that could be the perfect place to stop, before it got so good it stopped fitting anywhere on your stupid little scale.

You pressed your hands over your face and groaned into your palms. “This can't be that fucking hard,” you muttered, the words muffled against your skin. “Let's not be greedy,” you sighed then, forcing yourself to sit up straighter and look back at your laptop. 

The spreadsheet waiting on the screen might as well have been written in another language because every time you tried to focus, Scott found his way back into your head. It had been days and your brain refused to let it go…his hands, his voice, his touch and the way he'd looked at you afterward. The memories barged into your thoughts whenever they pleased, leaving you staring blankly ahead instead of working. 

Your eyes weren't even seeing the numbers anymore, they were vaguely fixed on Javier outside the meeting room enthusiastically demonstrating what looked like an attempted backflip to someone unfortunate enough to be watching as a knock against the glass wall snapped you out of it and your head turned so fast your neck almost protested.

Scott stood on the other side, dressed in his usual Storm Par shirt and cap, one hand already wrapped around the handle. He didn't wait for permission before pushing the door open and letting himself in, softly closing it behind him.

You let out a slow breath through your nose and immediately looked back at your laptop, pretending you'd been deeply invested in your work instead of daydreaming about being folded like a Samsung all over his apartment.

“What’s up?” you asked as casually as you could manage, clicking through random tabs and typing complete nonsense onto the keyboard with sufficient confidence to sell the act.

Scott pulled out the chair across from you and sat down. “Nothing.” He shrugged, resting his forearms on the table like this was the most normal visit in the world. “Just checking in.”

Your eyes flicked toward the glass wall briefly as you hummed softly. “You could've done that from outside.” 

“I could've,” he agreed easily. “Just wanted to make sure you understood that hiding from me isn't gonna solve your problem.” He motioned lazily toward the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the room. “Especially when you pick the fishbowl office.”

You let out a quiet huff of laughter before catching yourself, disguising it with a small clearing of your throat as your fingers kept tapping aimlessly at the keyboard. 

“Where are you hiding then?” you asked, finally sparing him a glance. Scott hadn't been around much the last few days, at least not anywhere the rest of the team could bother him, though that wasn't exactly unusual, given the choice, he'd avoid every person in the building.

“My office,” he replied flatly.

“Your office?” You frowned. “Since when do you have an office?”

Scott leaned back in his chair. “Turns out when enough people complain about how snarky you are and the company likes your results too much to fire you, they stick you in your own office.”

You stared at him for a second before giving up on the performance entirely. The laptop clicked shut beneath your hands and for the first time in seventy-two hours, you looked directly into his eyes without immediately finding an excuse to look away.

“You done pretending?” he asked.

“I wasn't pretending.”

“No?” His voice stayed soft, almost conversational but the corner of his mouth twitched with the beginning of a grin. He tilted his head to watch your reaction. “'Cause you've barely been able to argue with me for three days…Doesn't seem to be a problem right now.”

Your eye twitched, God, he was trying to bait you. You refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting the way he wanted, especially not to a man who wore a baseball cap indoors like the sun might suddenly appear over the conference table.

“Those great results you're so proud of benefiting from have another name next to yours at the bottom of every report,” you shot back evenly. “Last I checked, you're not out there watching your own back, no matter how self-centered you happen to be.”

You would've sworn you saw the very corner of his mouth twitch upward again. Damn it. 

“My point exactly,” he said quietly, settling deeper into his chair with the smug confidence of a man who knew he'd gotten exactly the reaction he wanted. The same confidence he'd had a few nights ago when he'd been ordering you around his apartment, rewarding you every time you listened. 

The memory flashed through your head before you could stop it. Was he thinking about it too? You blinked hard and shoved the thought aside, straightening your shoulders. 

“What exactly are we talking about?” you asked. 

“My office and your smart mouth. What else?” He paused long enough to let the words hang. “If I started casually talking about how good it felt to fuck you silent, you'd probably throw that laptop at me.” 

Your heart lurched so violently it genuinely annoyed you. Your eyes darted to the glass walls surrounding the room to make sure nobody outside could somehow hear him before snapping back to his face. He looked completely unbothered, sitting there like he'd commented on the weather. 

“What do you want, Scott?” 

“Besides your pussy in my mouth?...” He tipped his head back, lazily rocking his chair as he seemed to remember why he'd actually come in. “Right.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a key and slid it across the table until it stopped between you. “The key to our office.” 

You looked down at it, then back at him, narrowing your eyes. “I think I'll pass.” 

“It's at the end of the hall, far from the elevators,” he continued as though you hadn't spoken. “Big windows...private bathroom…and its own Wi-Fi router. We could probably fit a couch in there for those midday naps you keep pretending you don't need.” 

You let out a quiet scoff and leaned back in your own chair, mirroring his position. “I think all of that thunder finally got to you, Scotty,” you teased, genuinely wondering if the man had started losing his hearing along with his common sense from being exposed to such weather.

“No, but your moaning probably did,” Scott replied without missing a beat. “It echoed pretty well.” 

You stared at him for a second before sighing long and steady. “Blame your complete lack of furniture, playboy.” you muttered. “Your apartment needs a rug…It might actually absorb some of the noise and save you the trip to the ear doctor.” 

“I can get a rug,” he nodded thoughtfully. “Just need someone to test how effective it is–” 

You leaned across the table before he could finish, eyes widening in warning as you pointed a finger at him. “Stop…just stop.” Your voice dropped instinctively as you glanced through the glass wall, checking that nobody outside was paying enough attention to lip-read the conversation. 

A few people walked past carrying laptops while Javi argued with someone over a radar image, nobody seemed interested in the meeting room. 

You looked back at Scott. “We're at work…You can't say shit like that in front of everyone.” 

“You're right,” he admitted with a slow nod, looking almost disappointed in himself for all of half a second, then he tapped the key sitting between you. “Take that and follow me.” 

A laugh escaped you immediately as you shook your head. “Scott, I'm not going to a second location with you…We both know how that ends.” 

“First time I've heard you complain,” he said, completely unfazed. “Usually ends pretty well. Sure, there's quite a bit of cleaning after and being sore doesn't help…but it’s a small price to pay.” 

You snorted and pushed the key back across the table with one finger until it stopped in front of him. “Yeah and unsurprisingly I don't need the whole office hearing about it.” 

“So you admit you're loud.” 

“I'm not admitting to anything during work hours,” you clarified. “I'm trying to work so we can keep our numbers up. Unlike you...” You leaned forward again, lowering your voice until he had to do the same. “...who's trying to lure me into some dark office so you can fill me up like a fucking Twinkie.” 

Scott's eyebrows lifted noticeably. “A breeding kink?” He hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his jaw like you'd presented him with a serious research topic. “Interesting...” He nodded once. “I'll get tested. Can't say I've ever wanted to skip the condom step before but I'd consider making an exception for you.” His fingers slid the key back toward you again. “In the meantime…don't knock it until you've seen it…Big windows, no vis-à-vis and if you're good and quiet, we could have a remake of–”

“I’m not letting you fuck me again, Scott,” you disputed. You weren't entirely sure whether you'd made that decision before he walked into the meeting room or only after he'd spent the last five minutes trying to talk you into following him somewhere with a lock on the door but it was the right one…it had to be. 

Scott blinked once, let out a slow breath through his nose, then stood already facing the exit. “Get up.” 

Another laugh slipped out as you leaned farther back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest. “No.” 

“No?” He turned fully toward you, giving a small, thoughtful nod. “You know, I like to think we've got this communication thing figured out but I feel like I'm missing a few pieces here.” 

You nodded as if his confusion was perfectly reasonable. “Sure...uh...” You shrugged innocently. “We're incompatible.” 

“Incompatible,” he repeated flatly with enough sarcasm packed into the word to make you roll your eyes. He'd spent the last three days replaying every second of that afternoon in his apartment and there hadn't been a single thing incompatible about it. You two fit like pieces of the same puzzle, one he intended to keep building. “And you know this how?”

“Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence…third time is a pattern.” You counted each point off on your fingers before pointing at yourself. “Celibacy is a choice and it's the one I'm making.” 

Scott stared at you for a long second before pulling off his cap and dragging a hand through his hair, looking toward the ceiling like he was asking for patience. The cap went right back on. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Now give me the no-bullshit answer.” 

You shrugged again. “That is the no-bullshit answer…but if you'd like, I can make you a graph…maybe throw in a pie chart, some percentages...” You gestured toward the hallway. “It's gonna take a while though, so you should probably wait in your office.” 

“Our office,” he corrected automatically, then he looked around the meeting room, motioning toward your laptop, the scattered papers beside it and the whiteboard behind you. “I’m sorry, I figured you already had the presentation ready...I assumed that's what all this was.” He stepped closer and planted both hands on the table, leaning toward you. It forced you to lift your chin to keep eye contact. “Explain it to me like I'm stupid, it’ll save you some time.”

You leaned forward until both forearms rested on the desk, making sure he had nowhere to look except your face. If Scott wanted to play games, then he could deal with the consequences. 

“The sex we had was absolutely...” Your voice softened into something dreamy, bait wrapped in honey. 

Scott took it immediately. His shoulders loosened, the tension he'd walked in with bleeding out of him as he leaned closer over the desk, one brow lifting. The corner of his mouth almost curled into a smug grin, convinced he knew exactly where you were going.

“Mhm,” he hummed quietly.

“...interminable,” you finished flatly. “Too many rounds for me.” 

The grin died before it had the chance to fully appear. His shoulders deflated, followed by a slow blink as the realization settled in that he'd fallen for it. His jaw twitched, eyes narrowing at you with the familiar look of a man who'd just been expertly baited.

“And that matters because...” he asked after a beat, his voice noticeably flatter now. “...you're a numbers person?”

“I don't need to run the numbers to know I'm a one-orgasm girl,” you replied with a careless shrug. “Always have been.”

Scott shook his head slowly. “So the extra two you had...” 

“Were just excessive,” you nodded, grinning when his expression darkened further. “See? I knew you'd understand…You're a smart guy, Scott. I've never actually believed your mother dropped you as a child.” You shook your head and flipped your laptop open like the conversation was already over. “Whoever started that awful, tasteless but admittedly very funny rumor around the office should go get fucked.” 

“So...you.” he noted immediately. He wasn't stupid, the only person in the building with enough nerve to insult him to his face and behind his back was the same woman he'd spent three days blaming for every inconvenient hard-on he'd had since the storm. “Which is exactly what I've been trying to do.” 

You gave another innocent shrug. “It’s just not my thing.” 

Scott pushed off the table and straightened to his full height again, looking down at you with that infuriating conviction that usually preceded a terrible idea. “You just haven't been with the right man.”

You couldn't help laughing, even though a small part of you hated that he was probably right. It wasn't the multiple orgasms that bothered you, it was the thought of getting used to someone like him. What happened if this became your new normal? What if nobody else ever measured up afterward? You refused to let some man permanently recalibrate your sex scale. 

“Is that you insinuating you've got a magical dick?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand. 

“You've seen it...you've felt it...” Scott replied with a maddening grin, his voice dropped, making your stomach tighten. “You tell me.” 

You nodded thoughtfully. “Okay...I'm telling you it was a one-time thing. It can't...” You caught yourself, deciding you owed him at least one honest sentence. “Statistically speaking, I hadn't had sex in a very long time, so it was a direct consequence of that. You just happened to cash in on it.” You shrugged and turned back to your laptop, fingers returning to the keyboard. “Should be used to lucky strikes by now, considering your track record at work before we partnered up.” 

Scott didn't answer immediately. He simply watched you, piecing your logic together with the same concentration he used to read weather models. “So...” he said after a few seconds. “You're leaving me because you don't think I can consistently make you orgasm more than three times.” 

Your hands stopped typing as you genuinely considered it. “If I say yes, will you leave me alone?” 

He looked like he was weighing the offer for a solid twenty seconds before quietly stepping around the desk. Without warning, he pushed your laptop shut, stopping your hands beneath your own surprised stare, then picked it up before you could protest. “We work with probabilities and success rates,” he said matter-of-factly. “I'll just have to prove you wrong.” 

“That's...not what I said.” 

“Then maybe my parents really did drop me.” He tucked the laptop in front of himself as he headed for the door, conveniently hiding the growing outline in his jeans. “I know just how much you like being right…enjoy it while it lasts.” 

You pointed after him, biting back another smile. “Keep rubbing my laptop against your boner and you won't hear the end of it.”

A quiet laugh rumbled in Scott's chest as he kept walking. “Come get it then. Might still be early enough for you to get the upcoming flood under wraps.”

He glanced back over his shoulder, the grin he wore making you roll your eyes before you could stop yourself. You shook your head, laughing under your breath as you reached for the key he'd left on the table. Your chair scraped softly against the floor as you stood, pocketing the key before following him to the door.

“You're actually deranged.”

“You liked it once,” he replied without missing a beat, stepping aside to hold the door open for you. “I'm confident you will again.”

You clicked your tongue as you brushed past him, your shoulder bumping his on purpose. “You smug prick... Are we keeping count now?” you asked, looking up at him just long enough to catch the satisfaction on his face before heading into the hallway.

Scott waited until you were ahead of him before letting the smile spread properly across his face. He wasn't unprofessional enough to put his hands on you in the office, no matter how private it was. If he started, neither of you would stop and he wasn't about to deprive himself of the sounds that had been replaying in his head for three straight days. Your question, though, lodged itself somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Keeping count...now that was an idea worth exploring.

The sexual tension around your shared office had become something you were going to have to live with sooner rather than later. 

The door stayed wide open from the moment you walked in until the moment you left, partly for appearances and mostly to keep either of you from acting on a bad idea. Your desks sat at opposite ends of the room, separated as much as the space allowed and every time you stood at the whiteboard scribbling down data or arguing over storm paths, you caught yourself turning your whole body whenever you heard footsteps behind you. 

More often than not, it was Scott wandering over to look at what you were doing and the sharp look you'd throw over your shoulder was enough to stop him a few feet away, one corner of his mouth twitching before he'd silently retreat. 

All that tension had to go somewhere and unsurprisingly, it ended up back at your house, though not for any reason either of you would've admitted to. You sat cross-legged on your bed in an oversized t-shirt that barely covered the tops of your thighs, wearing nothing underneath but panties because there was no point pretending modesty around a man who had already seen every inch of you. 

Across the room, the television you'd impulsively bought to fill the quiet evenings and keep your hands from wandering under the covers to thoughts of him, leaned against the wall while Scott fixed the crooked mount you'd spent an hour unsuccessfully fighting with the day before. He worked with the same concentration he gave everything else, drill humming steadily in his hand as he checked measurements twice before sinking another screw into the wall. 

The room was quiet but not uncomfortably so. Ever since his apartment, conversations between you had become strangely careful. The morning after, you'd simply asked him to drive you home, thanked him with a kiss that tried far too hard to be casual and climbed out of his truck like nothing had changed. Since then, your texts had stayed light, mostly work-related, occasional teasing and both of you acknowledging that neither of you regretted a second of it. 

The silence stretching between you now felt heavier than any conversation. 

“You know I can feel you staring, right?” Scott asked without looking over, the low whir of the drill cutting through the room before he released the trigger and tightened the bracket with one hand. 

“Is it only okay when you do it?” you shot back immediately.

"Given it took you two years to realize I was looking at you in the first place...yeah," he replied without hesitation. He straightened, checking the level one last time before wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. Satisfied, he lifted the television with ease, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he guided it onto the bracket until it clicked into place. 

Only then did he turn to face you, that infuriating grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. "You also could've called me for this," he pointed out. "Or texted me sometime between telling me how thoroughly satisfied you were and dodging every question about when I was seeing you outside of work again." His eyes flicked briefly toward the mounted TV before settling back on you. "I'm exceptionally good at screwing stuff."

"I'd rather you weren't," you answered before you could stop yourself, the words escaping so naturally they made you sigh the moment they landed. 

Scott caught it immediately. You tried to keep your attention on the television but your eyes betrayed you, drifting back to his arms as he gave the screen a firm shake to make sure it was secure, his veins stood out beneath tanned skin, reaching very capable hands...you looked away a second too late. 

He folded his arms across his chest, studying you with the same calm expression he'd worn for the past few days. He still hadn't let the conversation from the office go and judging by the look on his face, he wasn't planning to. "You're not a one-orgasm woman," he said matter-of-factly. "If you think you are, you're only fooling yourself." 

You leaned farther back against the pillows, drawing one knee up lazily as you looked at him. "Are you saying you could've gone longer?" you asked. "The living room, the kitchen and then the shower wasn't enough?" 

Scott walked to the foot of the bed without answering right away. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he planted both hands against it and leaned toward you. "I've been in a truck with you long enough to know when to quit," he said quietly, his eyes moving over your face before settling back on yours. "We were both exhausted." A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. "That's not the same thing as being sated." 

"Isn't it?" you asked, your gaze slipping almost involuntarily from his face to the veined length of his forearms braced against the mattress before climbing back to meet his eyes.

Before you could say anything more, one of his hands wrapped around your ankle and pulled you smoothly to the very edge of the bed, your legs parting naturally to make room for him standing between them. He wasn’t even that close yet but you could already feel yourself growing wet, the slow throb of arousal building low in your belly from nothing more than the way he looked at you. "Weather models aren’t the only thing I read well," he rasped, his voice dropping lower.

"What are you reading now, Scotty?" You teased, fingernails trailing lightly up and down his forearms as you looked up at him.

“That you have more than one…or three meek orgasms in you.” He assured, hands trailing slowly up your legs, the rough warmth of his palms sliding over your skin as he held eye contact. “I just need you to let me show you.”

Your eyes narrowed at his unshakable confidence. “And how are you gonna do that?”

“We’re gonna play a game.” He grinned as he let one finger hook into the waistband of your panties, yanking them down slowly. “Numbers excite you,” he started, eyes lifting to yours for any sign that he should stop but when he found none, he continued pulling the fabric lower, sliding it down your thighs until your glistening pussy was fully exposed to the cool air of the room.

You chuckled under your breath, the sound barely cutting through the charged space between you. “They don’t excite me, Scott. They are part of my job.”

“I’ll put you to work then.” His mouth curved into something faintly amused as he leaned in closer, hands easing the panties off the rest of the way and letting them fall aside onto the mattress. “Condoms?”

You held eye contact with him for as long as you could, whether it was an attempt at challenging him or calling his bluff, it didn’t work. “Bedside table,” you replied, chin tipping slightly in its direction.

The mattress dipped as he moved away and you followed him with your eyes, watching the way his shoulders moved under the fabric of his shirt, every motion unhurried as he reached the bedside drawer and slid it open.

A low chuckle slipped from him as he pulled out the brand new box of condoms, turning it between his fingers. You had bought it after that night in his apartment, unsure if anything would happen again but wanting to be ready. “I don’t know if this is wishful thinking,” he murmured, glancing at you over the edge of the box, “or if I should be worried about competition.”

“Focus on your little game before I dry up,” you shot back with a grin, chin tilting slightly as you held his gaze without blinking.

That earned a short, amused huff from him. Scott walked back toward the end of the bed, the condom foil caught lightly between his teeth as he worked his belt loose with ease, the sound of metal sliding through leather punctuating the silence. He kept his eyes locked on you the entire time, moving with unhurried confidence as he pushed his jeans down and let his heavy cock spring free. 

“I am not in the business of droughts, sweetheart,” he said, voice edged with amusement as he straightened above you, tearing the wrapper open and finally discarding it to the side.

“There is a first time for everything,” you replied, watching him with a calm that didn’t quite match the pace of your heart.

He knelt on the mattress between your parted legs as he rolled the condom on with unbroken focus and you moved back a little to give him more space, which he took gladly. 

He hovered over you, warmth pressing into your skin before he even fully touched you. “Listen to me,” he started, one hand sliding down between your bodies, thumb beginning to circle slowly over your clit, drawing a sharp inhale out of your lungs as your shoulders loosened against the mattress.

His voice stayed authoritative yet gentle, one hand braced beside your head. “I want you to count every thrust and when I ask you, I want a clear answer…”

Your lashes fluttered as your focus wavered between his words and the way your body reacted against them. “What kind of game is that?” you asked, though it came out uneven, breath catching mid-sentence as your hips shifted slightly beneath him, instinctively chasing the pressure he was already controlling.

He didn’t react to the question beyond a faint shake of his head, like the answer didn’t matter as much as obedience to the structure he was setting. His thumb continued its firm, steady movements over your clit, each pass measured enough to keep you suspended between anticipation and release. “Then you'll count the orgasms too.”

“What happens if I lose count?” you whispered, chest heaving as warmth began spreading through your core, fingers flexing lightly against the sheets as your body started to respond more openly to him.

“Don’t and you won’t have to find out.” When your hips started to roll up into his hand, searching for more friction, he tsked softly, refusing to let you set the rhythm. “Can we start or do you have any questions?”

“Make this quick, my date will be here soon,” you teased, though it barely held its edge anymore, breath catching around the words as your focus kept slipping.

“Never had an audience but it’s not too late to start,” he grinned, eyes drinking in the way your chest heaved beneath the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Your nipples had hardened into tight, sensitive peaks that poked prominently against the material with every quick, shallow breath you drew. Your lips parted on a soft sigh as your eyes fluttered shut, lashes casting faint shadows on your cheeks while you gave yourself over completely to the steady, knowing movements of his thumb.

The pressure against your clit was exquisite, firm circles that never faltered, gliding smoothly over the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of slick friction. Each rotation sent fresh sparks of pleasure racing up your spine and down through your core, making your inner muscles clench with need. 

You could feel yourself growing wetter with every passing second, the warm arousal leaking steadily from your entrance and coating his fingers as they worked you loose. Your legs fell farther apart around his body, thighs quivering with the effort to stay open for him as the tension deep inside you coiled tighter and tighter, like a spring being wound to its limit.

Scott never looked away, his gaze locked on your face and then drifted lower to watch the way your cunt responded to his touch while his free hand rested heavily on your inner thigh now, holding you steady and spread wide so he could see everything. He varied the rhythm to keep you on edge, alternating between those perfect, consistent circles and broader strokes that dragged over your clit before returning to focused pressure right at the apex. The wet, obscene sounds of his thumb sliding through your increasing slickness mixed with your growing moans, filling the bedroom and making the air feel thicker, hotter.

Your breaths came faster, turning into soft pants that bordered on whimpers. The heat in your belly expanded rapidly, spreading outward in heavy, pulsing waves that made your toes curl against the sheets and your back arch clean off the mattress. Every muscle in your body seemed to draw tight as the pleasure mounted higher until it finally broke over you in a devastating rush. 

The orgasm crashed through you with breathtaking intensity, starting deep in your core and radiating outward in rhythmic contractions. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed hard around nothing while your moans turned raw and unrestrained, echoing softly in the room while your entire body shook and trembled beneath him, thighs clamping around his hand as the pleasure rolled on and on, leaving you gasping for air and dizzy with satisfaction.

Even as the peak began to fade into warm, lingering aftershocks, Scott kept his thumb moving in gentler strokes, drawing out every last bit of sensation until you were left panting on the bed.

“That’s one,” he announced, using the slick in his hand to lubricate the condom further before fisting his cock and adjusting to push in slowly, the thick head stretching your entrance as you gasped at the sudden fullness. “Isn’t this what you’ve been thinking about?” He teased, giving a tentative thrust out and then back in, letting you feel every inch of him sliding home.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you moaned, the words breaking apart on the way out, breathless and uneven as your body adjusted to the depths he reached.

“Not the one being stuffed at the moment,” he answered with a low grin you could feel more than see as he bent down to press a slow kiss against your jaw and then lower along the sensitive skin of your neck. Against your ear he mumbled, “Focus…start counting.”

His hips began to move then, rolling into a steady rhythm that stole what little composure you had left. His shaft dragged heavily against your still pulsating walls, the thick length stroking every sensitive spot inside you with wet, filthy sounds that filled the room and made the mattress rock beneath you with every impact.

“Count,” he reminded you again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he maintained that same unbroken rhythm.

You counted under your breath each time his pelvis collided with yours, though you didn’t truly believe there would be any substantial consequence if you didn’t. The steady slap of skin on skin mixed with the slick glide of his dick pumping into your drenched folds, every thrust pushing deep, stretching you open and rubbing perfectly against that spot that made your toes curl. Your inner walls clenched around him rhythmically, still fluttering from the first orgasm as he fucked you through the lingering sensitivity.

The wet sounds grew louder with each movement, your arousal coating his cock and dripping down to soak the covers beneath you.

“I still think about the first time I made you cum,” he grunted between thrusts, voice roughened by effort. “Do you?”

Your breath caught on a sharp whimper as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, knuckles tightening. “Not a good time…”you managed. He huffed a low laugh at that, the sound rolling through his chest and into you where you were already pressed too close to think clearly.

“Good time as any,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin. “You’re good at multitasking.”

“Uh…it doesn’t–” you started, though the thought trailed off completely as you lost it to the deep, relentless thrusts. His hips snapped forward with controlled force, driving his cock into you over and over rhythmically. You could feel every vein and ridge as he filled you completely, pulling out just enough for the head to catch at your entrance before plunging back in and making your pussy squelch wetly around him. 

“Doesn’t what?” He asked, gaze fixed on your face as he noticed the way your thighs tensed tighter around his waist and the way your grip on him changed from holding to clinging.

“Apply to sex,” you blurted out, breath coming fast now, words clipped between shallow inhales. “‘m gonna cum.”

“Mhm,” he hummed condescendingly. “Nobody’s surprised.”

He kept going at the same pace, cock plunging deep and pelvis grinding against your clit with every forward motion until your breath hitched sharply and the second orgasm crashed over you even harder than the first.

Your entire body seized as a guttural cry tore from your throat. Every nerve ending lit up at once with a white-hot surge that radiated outward in concentric pulls. Your cunt clamped around his cock with a strength that surprised even you, muscles attempting to milk him in rapid, involuntary contractions that made his thick ridge drag against your swollen walls with each desperate squeeze.

The moment it hit its peak, he spoke again. “How many was that?” He asked, hips still rolling smoothly to prolong the orgasm, drawing out every shudder as your walls continued to flutter and squeeze him. The wet sounds of his thrusts turned obscenely louder as your slick flooded around his shaft in a gush of warm fluid that coated his pelvis and dribbled down your ass crack onto the mattress. You could feel the way your inner walls fluttered and gripped, the textures of your own flesh squeezing every vein and bump of his length while your thighs locked tighter around his hips, heels digging into his lower back as if to trap him inside you forever.

Your vision swam, the ceiling light blurring into streaks of gold. A sharp, keening moan spilled from your lips, broken by gasps as his unrelenting rhythm continued, even as your peak made your whole body tremble like a plucked string. 

“Mmm, twenty seven,” you moaned, hand digging into his forearm as the orgasm slowly subsided, leaving you trembling and breathless. “Second orgasm.”

“Smart and attentive,” he grinned, slowing his pace to allow you to breathe.

You nodded against the mattress, trying to catch your breath as the warm aftershocks of your orgasm continued to pulse through you. “Attentive enough to remember you said–” you swallowed hard, voice still shaky as your chest rose and fell rapidly. “And I quote ‘leaving me’ during our conversation at the office…I thought you of all people would understand what casual sex is,” you grinned, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Can’t leave you if we’re not together.”

“Oh, I am aware…If we were together you wouldn’t doubt your ability to cum more than three times,” he said, immediately thrusting into you with one long, measured stroke. His cock pushed through your still-sensitive walls, making them flutter and grip around him as you gasped in surprise at the sudden overwhelm. “It’d be a shame for that box of condoms to go unused though.”

You grinned despite the way your entire body trembled, your breasts bouncing freely with each thrust as he picked up an uninterrupted rhythm again. The length of his cock stretched you so perfectly, sliding through your soaked pussy with maddening precision. 

“It’s okay…my suitors don’t always use them,” you managed to tease, the words breaking into a breathy moan as he drove in particularly deep and ground his hips in a slow circle.

“Funny…” he replied dryly, dark eyes locked on your face as he watched every reaction closely. “Have any favorites?” He asked then, never once slowing the pounding of his cock into your dripping cunt.

You shook your head, trying desperately to keep your voice steady even as intense pleasure sparked through you with every single thrust. “I know you don’t make the list though…you haven’t been–uh…fuck,” you moaned loudly, pelvis tilting back for him to effectively hit target. “Performing particularly well.”

He hummed low and amused right against your ear in response, breath hot and ragged on your skin. “One data point from each category doesn't make for a reliable average…Can’t base a whole hypothesis off two results, you know that.”

“Scott–”

“I’m serious. You called me a pervert just to cum all over my dick? What the hell does that make you?” His hips didn’t slow for even a second. If anything, they found a devastating new pace that made your next protest die somewhere deep in your throat. His cock plunged into you again and again, the heavy drag of his length rubbing relentlessly against every sensitive inch of your walls while the wet slap of his pelvis meeting your soaked pussy echoed through the room. 

The pressure inside you built rapidly once more, that familiar heavy warmth spreading through your core as your walls fluttered and squeezed greedily around him.

“This isn’t–” you gasped sharply as he changed his angle slightly, driving even deeper to fill you entirely. “...science. Far from it.”

“Everything is science.” He caught your jaw firmly in his hand, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look directly at him. His expression remained cocky and unbothered, jaw clenched with concentration as sweat glistened on his forehead and along the strong line of his neck. His eyes burned with raw lust and focus as if he could keep fucking you exactly like this for hours without tiring. “If you want accurate data on my performance, you’re gonna need way more trials than this…statistically speaking.”

“You’re an ass–”

“I’m thorough.” His mouth dropped to your neck and you felt him smile against your overheated skin as he continued pounding into you without mercy. His cock slid in and out with slick, filthy ease, your abundant arousal coating every inch of him and dripping messily with every powerful thrust. “Guess I’ll just have to keep coming back…purely for research purposes.” He turned his mouth toward your ear, voice dropping into a low, teasing growl. “Twenty nine condoms left in that box and with the ones at my apartment we should have enough margin for trial, don't you think?” He grinned, hips snapping forward sharply to emphasize his words. “When we run out I’ll just cum inside of you.”

You gasped sharply, your entire body tensing and seizing as another orgasm ripped through you without warning. The pleasure hit hard and deep, making your pussy clamp down around his thick cock in strong pulses as your thighs quivered violently, mouth falling open in a long, broken moan as the overwhelming sensation consumed you completely, leaving your mind hazy and your body pulsing with need.

“That breeding kink of yours is gonna do miracles,” he marveled, voice rough and strained with arousal as he kept moving through your climax.

“Don’t have one,” you whimpered, the words barely forming as the orgasm continued to crash over you.

“Then why does the thought of it make you cum? Might need to notify the rest of your body of that,” he groaned, looking down between your bodies to watch intently as his cock pistoned in and out of you. The sight of his thick, slicked shaft plunging in and out of your swollen, dripping pussy was obscene, your lips stretched around him, plump and glistening, your hole gripping him with every withdrawal, trying to keep him inside. 

“Trying to milk me dry…fuck.” He kept thrusting steadily, prolonging the pleasure until your body tensed firmly beneath him. “Number?”

You could barely form words, your head shaking weakly from side to side as you remained lost in the overwhelming haze of pleasure. Your chest heaved with each ragged inhale, your skin flushed hot all over as your pussy continued to flutter and squeeze around his thick cock even as the peak of your orgasm slowly began to fade.

“Irrelevant,” you managed to reply, your voice hoarse and breathless.

He shook his head, pulling out of you with a wet pop. The sudden emptiness devastated you, you moaned loudly at the loss, your hand instinctively shooting down between your legs to cover your sore pussy. Your fingers pressed against your puffy, sensitive folds as if trying to hold in the overwhelming ache, walls clenching desperately around nothing while slick arousal continued to leak out against your palm.

“Think,” he said, voice rough.

You grabbed onto his shirt desperately with your free hand, tugging him closer as you tried to collect your scattered thoughts through the lingering fog of pleasure. At the same time, Scott wrapped his hand around his own cock, giving it a few firm pumps as he hovered over you. 

The wet, glistening length looked painfully hard, flushed dark at the tip but after only a few strokes he hissed sharply through his teeth and abandoned the motion. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, rising and falling visibly as he looked down at you with dark and hungry eyes. 

The sight of you lying there needy and trembling, one hand cupping your dripping pussy while you stared up at him, seemed to affect him just as badly.

“I want a total,” he pressed, still breathing hard.

“Third orgasm,” you breathed, fingers absentmindedly pressing a little firmer against your sensitive folds for relief.

“Mhm…I’ll congratulate you when we reach double digits. What else?”

Your eyes widened as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, staring at him in disbelief while your body still buzzed and trembled. “Double digits? Scott–”

“I want a number,” he repeated firmly, his voice low and commanding, chest still rising and falling heavily.

“Or what?” You challenged, still trying to catch your breath, hand remaining protectively over your aching pussy.

“It’s basic math,” he tried again, his tone teasing but unwavering as he looked down at you with that heated, predatory focus.

You sighed heavily and dropped back onto the mattress, your limbs feeling heavy and your pussy still throbbing with sensitivity as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Forty…two?”

“Is that a guess?” He asked, tilting his head as he grabbed the back of both your legs and pushed them closer to your chest, folding you nearly in half beneath him and exposing you completely.

“Am I wrong?” You asked, eyes drifting from his face down to his heavy, glistening cock dangling between your bodies. You gasped sharply as he pushed back inside in one smooth, devastatingly selfish stroke.

“Close enough,” he groaned as he began thrusting again, hips snapping forward with renewed purpose. The new angle allowed him to drive deeper, thick cock stretching your sensitive pussy wide open and rubbing relentlessly against every nook and cranny inside you repeatedly. The filthy sounds of him fucking into your dripping heat grew louder, your arousal coating his shaft completely and leaking out around him in messy rivulets with each thrust. The overwhelming fullness and friction left you moaning helplessly, body rocking beneath him as pleasure built rapidly once more.

You laughed breathlessly between your own broken moans. “You’re so full of shit, Miller…You can’t even admit the fact that you don’t know the rules to your own fucking game.”

“I know what the outcome should be,” he confessed, face twitching with pleasure as every deep thrust pulled fresh, uncontrollable noises from your throat. His cock plunged in and out of you steadily, the heavy drag of his length filling you completely and making your soaked pussy squelch obscenely around him with every movement. “Keep count. If we’re gonna do this more often, I can’t be responsible for our success rate decreasing…I need to know you can function after being thoroughly fucked.”

“I realize now…” you paused, swallowing hard as you tried to focus through the overwhelming haze of pleasure clouding your mind, the erotic sounds of sex making it nearly impossible to string thoughts together. “That you think very highly of your dick.”

“If it’s anything like your…glorious pussy, you will soon too,” he replied, voice low and rough with the effort of holding back while buried inside your tight heat.

“Glorious?” You giggled, the sound dissolving quickly into a breathy moan as he angled his hips just right and dragged the thick head of his cock across your g-spot.

“Never been good with words that aren’t insults…I’ll get back to you on that,” he groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’ll understand if you want to gatekeep it from me…I’m turning into a fucking addict and I’m not above begging if you keep it to yourself,” he leaned down to press his lips firmly to yours because he knew that if he heard that breathy-moan hybrid once more, he would probably cum right then and there.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, one hand pushing off his baseball cap so you could run your fingers through his hair and grip the strands tightly. Your tongues danced messily together, tasting and exploring as his thrusts refused to slow or stop. Each stroke stretched you open wider, filling you completely and rubbing against every sensitive inch of your walls. The slick glide of his thick cock pumping in and out of your dripping pussy created constant wet sounds that mixed with your muffled moans into his mouth. The overwhelming fullness, the heat of his body pressed against yours and the taste of him on your tongue all blended into a storm of sensation that left you dizzy and desperate for more.

Eventually, your doorbell rang loudly through the house, the sound cutting cleanly through the heavy breathing and slick sounds of sex. Scott pulled back from your lips to look at you, eyes widening in brief surprise, yet his hips kept moving, driving his cock deep into you with relentless thrusts as if the interruption barely registered. You laughed breathlessly, both hands flying up to hide your face before he could see just how completely undone you had become, your expression wrecked every time he snapped his hips forward just right and ground against your clit. Between your splayed fingers, you watched his eyes flick toward the bedside table, lingering briefly on the box of condoms before returning to you. His brows pulled together, confusion settling across his face as he searched yours for an explanation.

“Were you serious?” He asked. Had sleeping with you that first night somehow triggered some carefully planned rotation of men? He wouldn't be angry and he wasn't exactly hurt, but the reality of someone else showing up at your door while still buried balls deep inside you was unfamiliar territory. Between your hands, your breathy laughter only deepened the crease between his brows, doing absolutely nothing to ease the knot forming in his stomach.

You suddenly gasped sharply, your hands flying away from your face to dig into his arms for support. “Fuck…fuck–fuck!”

“Yeah, I’d rather do it uninterrupted,” he muttered, breathing still uneven as he rested his forehead briefly against yours and kept thrusting into your soaked, clenching heat without missing a beat. “Who’s at the door?”

“Dinner…oh!” You whispered, the words cutting off as another orgasm hit you hard and fast. The pleasure exploded through your body with a heavy throb that made your cunt pulse and squeeze tightly around his cock, as fresh slick gushed out around him and you moaned loudly, the sound echoing through the room so intensely that you began doubting just how soundproof your house really was. You'd ordered pizza earlier as a simple thank-you for helping mount the television, a gesture that had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time but now, as the doorbell rang again, you couldn't help wondering whether it had ever been necessary. Judging by where the evening had ended up, you probably would've let him fuck you either way.

“Should have asked,” he started, voice strained as he forcefully pulled out of you with a loud, wet pop that left your empty pussy clenching and fluttering around nothing. He dropped to one knee, then the other, settling quickly on the floor at the foot of the bed and put his face right between your spread legs, staring hungrily at the sight of your puffy, glistening folds still twitching from the recent orgasm. “Usually like to start off with a sweet drink,” he said with a wicked grin before diving in without hesitation.

You moaned loudly, spine bowing off the mattress as his hot mouth offered sudden, intense relief and new pleasure after the constant stretch of his cock. Your shaky thighs rested heavily on his broad shoulders while his big, veiny hands wrapped firmly around them, massaging the trembling skin there and pulling you even closer against his face. His nose pressed and rubbed deliciously against your swollen clit with every movement, sending sharp sparks of overwhelming sensation shooting through your already sensitive body. 

The first stroke of that wet muscle against your oversensitive flesh made you jolt, a high, keening whine escaping your throat as he peppered your soaked slit with slow kisses and gentle, exploratory licks, savoring the taste of your abundant arousal as it coated his lips and tongue. He licked broad stripes from your entrance up to your clit before circling the swollen bud with focused attention, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over filled the room alongside your ragged moans. The warmth of his breath, the wet heat of his tongue and the firm grip of his hands all combined to keep you right on the edge.

His lips sealed around your clit, sucking it hard momentarily before withdrawing solely to speak.

“I am all ears,” he prompted between kisses and licks, looking up at you with dark, hungry eyes while you still tried desperately to catch your breath but the longer you failed to answer him, the more indifferent he became, knowing he was gradually losing you to the pleasure again. One of his hands reached up your body, pinching your nipple between two fingers and rolling it firmly, making you gasp sharply at the sudden sting of pleasure. Your hand moved up instinctively to cover his, holding him there as he massaged the sensitive peak and soothed the sting away with slow but firm handfuls.

“Four,” you swallowed hard, voice coming out hoarse after the intensity of your previous orgasms. One hand fisted the sheets, knuckles light, as he alternated between deep, probing licks inside you and teasing, featherlight touches on your swollen nub.

“Mhm…almost half way there. That it?” he prompted, warm breath ghosting over your slick, swollen folds as he remained positioned between your spread thighs.

“Lost count,” you slurred, the words barely coherent as jolts of lingering pleasure made it difficult to focus on anything else.

He hummed in clear disappointment, slowly shaking his head while his eyes stayed fixed on your dripping pussy. This whole thing had become a test of restraint for him, he needed to know he could keep his composure at work, that he could sit across from you in a meeting room, argue over data and not immediately think about getting you in bed. What better way to prove it than by denying you while forcing himself to watch? 

He released your breast, fingers trailing lightly down your side before pulling away, expression calm despite the battle he was clearly fighting with himself. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Your lips curled into a tired but undeniably sultry smile, your tone teasing despite how thoroughly spent your body felt. “You’re already down there…and it’s clear we aren’t getting any pizza…so get to licking. I would hate for such a big man like you to go hungry.”

“I’ll stay down here…but you’re gonna put those pretty hands to use. Give me something to look at,” he replied, darkened eyes gleaming with hunger as he watched you intently from his position between your legs.

“You must not want to reach double digits that badly,” you teased, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as your core throbbed with fresh need. You stretched across the mattress with a quiet moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how much the denial had gotten to you.

“No, I do…just want you to want it too,” he admitted, gaze dropping down to your glistening, puffy pussy before lifting back to your face. He could see the subtle flicker of disappointment cross your features when he held back from giving you exactly what you craved. “If you saw how I cleaned a yogurt lid, you’d stop playing hard to get,” he grinned, voice dropping into that low, teasing register you were starting to love. “I know you’ve been thinking about it…that night, on your dining table…”

“You could just remind me,” you shrugged, attempting to sound indifferent while your body betrayed you completely.

“You could just earn it,” he shot back, refusing to give an inch.

Once again, you held challenging eye contact with him, the tension crackling between you as neither seemed willing to fold first, though the insistent, needy pulsing of your greedy pussy eventually won out. 

Your hand moved lower with shaky determination, fingers inching across your lower belly until they reached your wet and puffy clit, while Scott’s eyes followed every movement hungrily, watching as your fingertips made contact with the glistening bud. Your cunt looked thoroughly used and beautifully plump, the outer lips engorged and parted to reveal the slick, shiny inner folds that still fluttered slightly from your release as clear arousal continued to leak slowly from your entrance, trailing down toward your ass and making everything look obscenely wet and inviting under the bedroom light.

You began rolling your clit gently under your fingertips, the direct stimulation sending sharp sparks of pleasure shooting through your tightly coiled body. A shaky huff escaped your lips as you threw your head back against the pillows, thighs trembling around his shoulders while he drank in the sight greedily, specifically the way your fingers moved in small, unsteady circles over your clit, occasionally dipping lower to spread your abundant wetness back up and make the entire area glisten even more. 

Your pussy clenched visibly at the touch, the tight entrance winking and pushing out another bead of slick that slowly dripped down as your breasts rose and fell rapidly with each breath, nipples still hard and flushed from his earlier attention. The visual was almost too much for him, your body laid out open and responsive, fingers working your most sensitive spot while he watched from mere inches away.

He breathed a stream of cool air directly onto your heated flesh as he continued to observe every detail. “That’s it…you won’t have to do this much often, if you agree to just call me every time your fantasies aren’t cutting it,” he murmured, blowing another gentle puff of cool air across your clit that made your fingers falter for a moment and your hips bucked. “Let’s just remember to skip this part during our quarterly partner reviews.”

His eyes stayed locked on every movement of your hand, intense focus fraying as he failed not to lick his lips. This was the last time he'd let himself acknowledge how unprofessional this was. It was purely selfish now, the thought dissolving until it barely qualified as one.

“There you go,” he murmured, voice low and condescending in the most delicious way. “Look at you playing with that pretty pussy just because I told you to. I knew you could do it…and you almost didn’t complain.” He leaned in and puffed another stream of cool air directly onto your heated clit, making a shiver run through your thighs. “Keep those fingers moving…nice and slow just like that. I want to see exactly how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as you obeyed, rolling your clit a little firmer under your fingertips. You could feel his gaze burning into you, watching as your pussy fluttered and leaked more arousal with every circle. Your other hand moved up to squeeze one of your breasts, pinching your nipple as your hips started to rock subtly against your own hand.

“Attagirl,” he praised, the words dripping with smug satisfaction, watching with dark eyes as your entrance clenched hard in response and more slick dripped out. “So fucking greedy. Don’t you worry, I’ll stuff you right after, I promise…I’ll fill you up nice and deep once you cum for me like this. You know I’m a man of my word.”

The combination of his words, his watchful stare and the occasional bursts of cool air had you trembling. Your fingers moved faster, sliding easily over your slick clit as the pressure built heavier in your core, muscles tensing as you chased the frantic crescendo. 

Scott’s hands stayed firmly on your thighs, holding you open wide so he could see everything. 

“You’re getting close already, aren't you?” he teased, cocky and unbothered. “I can see it, your pussy’s clenching like it’s begging for my cock…but you’re going to cum on your own fingers first, huh?” He puffed more cool air directly onto your clit right as your fingers pressed firmer, the sudden sensation making you moan loudly and arch your back. “Look at that pretty pussy dripping everywhere. Such a good, messy girl for me…I’ll fuck you so deep you’ll feel me for days…just cum for me and it’s all yours.”

Your fingers moved desperately now, circling and rubbing your clit with increasing urgency as the pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. The slick sounds grew louder with a squelching noise that swallowed the room while your arousal dripped down in messy uncontrollable rivulets.

Scott kept watching intently, occasionally blowing cool air directly onto your hypersensitive folds to tease you, each breath made your hips jerk and your pussy flutter visibly while his praises never stopped, they were a continuous stream of condescending encouragement that pushed you closer to the edge, reminding you exactly who you were coming for.

He blew one final, longer stream of cool air right against your opening just as the tension snapped. Your spine curved like a drawn bow as molten heat spread through your entire body, making your cunt clench and flutter wildly as the internal muscles squeezed tight.

Your hard and engorged clit pulsed rhythmically under your fingers, sending fresh spasms to your nerves that kept the climax rolling. Loud moans spilled from your lips unrestrained as you lost all composure, you weren't just peaking, you were drowning in it, leaving you shaking, chest heaving and gasping for air.

Scott stayed right where he was, eyes fixed on every twitch and contraction of your soaked pussy, watching the way your walls continued to ripple and clamp down even as the intensity began to fade and ensuring he didn't miss a single second of you coming completely undone for him.

He pushed your thighs gently off his shoulders and moved up your body again, keeping his eyes locked on your face as you gasped, still trembling from the intense oblivion. His lips glistened with your arousal and the sight of him crawling back over you, cock heavy and painfully hard between his legs, sent another shiver through your exhausted body. “If I’d known a few orgasms would shut you up,” he said, voice rough with amusement, “I would’ve bent you over the back of the truck the first week.”

You grinned tiredly, chest still rising and falling rapidly as you watched him wrap a fist around his thick cock and pump it slowly over you. The sight was mesmerizing, veined hand sliding along the glistening length as the head flushed dark and leaked into the condom. “You wouldn’t have…otherwise you wouldn’t have discovered arguing turns you on.”

“Not something I’d advertise,” his voice had gone rough, any pretense of composure slipping..

“Too many names on the roster?” you asked absentmindedly, eyes following every stroke of his fist along his cock, mesmerized by the way the muscles in his forearm flexed with each movement.

“None you need to keep count of,” he grinned, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly sinking back into your pussy. The thick head stretched you open once more, sliding deep with a wet, smooth glide that made you moan loudly at the overwhelming fullness. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, still sensitive and slick from everything he had already put you through. “Except for yourself.”

“That made five orgasms…” you started, smile deceptively soft as you ran your nails slowly up the nape of his neck, threading them through his hair. You took a firm handful and pulled back sharply, your smile turning razor-sharp as he groaned deep in his throat, cock twitching hard inside you. “Every time you make me work for an orgasm is a day I won’t spend in that office of yours…So start earning your quota, Miller.”

He let out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hips began moving again, driving into you with renewed intent. 

Numbers had never been Scott’s favorite part of the job, he was far more a man of action, preferring tornado chases and results over spreadsheets and tallies but if his tasks now included counting your orgasms and hunting something far more thrilling than any cloudburst, all while naked in your bed, he could definitely get behind it…or rather, on top.

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A/N: If you enjoyed this story, feel free to explore the archive for more! Liking and reblogging helps others discover my writing and comments always make my day, they’re a huge encouragement for me to keep creating. Thank you so much for reading!

first of all he does not do small. if he’s proposing, he’s proposing. the ring is huge. obnoxiously huge. the kind of rock that makes your friends grab your hand and go “what the hell.” he shrugs like it’s nothing. says something like, “yeah well if i’m putting my name on something it’s gonna be top tier.” acts like the price tag didn’t make the jeweller blink twice. but he’ll spend anything to make his girl happy.

he definitely pretends it wasn’t a big deal. you catch him watching you twist it around your finger in the truck and he goes “what, it’s just a ring.” meanwhile he spent weeks researching cuts and clarity like it was storm data.

he likes that the ring is big. not just because he can afford it, but because it’s obvious. because anyone who looks at your hand knows you’re taken.

he does not call you his fiancé. ever. you’re ‘my girl.’ that’s it. someone congratulates him on the engagement and he’s got his arm around your waist like yeah, she’s my girl. always has been. the word fiancé feels too formal.

lowkey territorial about the ring. if someone grabs your hand for too long he’s right there behind you like careful, that’s custom.

he proposed in a way that felt very him. not overly sentimental in public, but when it was just you two he was quieter than usual. serious. a little breathless. like he’d faced down a hundred tornadoes but this was the one thing that actually scared him.

he absolutely uses the engagement as an excuse to be worse. calls you future mrs miller in that smug tone when you’re arguing. you roll your eyes and he just grins because he knows you love it.

he absolutely uses the ring to win arguments. not even in a serious way. you're mid fight and he just grabs your hand, lifts it between you, stares at the diamond like “huh. crazy how you still said yes though.” you hate that it works.

when people ask about wedding planning he gets all dismissive. says something like she’ll handle the pretty stuff. but then later you catch him looking at venues online. cross referencing weather patterns for the month you mentioned. because of course he is.

he acts like the ring was nothing but if you ever joke about taking it off? his whole demeanor shifts. jaw tight. don’t. just don’t.

he keeps calling you my wife by accident. not in a joking way. just slips out. like it’s already decided in his head.

when he’s tired after a chase he’ll rest his forehead against yours and mumble that “he can’t believe you said yes.” like he still doesn’t fully trust that he gets to keep you.

he gets meaner in that teasing way now that you’re engaged. leans down and murmurs “you gonna behave, or do i need to remind you who bought that ring?” and you hate that it makes your stomach flip.

sometimes he’ll take your hand, thumb brushing over the diamond, and his voice drops just a little when he says “you’re stuck with me now, girl.” and it’s not a threat. it’s a promise.

“Oh, god,” he mumbles, trying to shift, to hide his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… you just… it was too much, I couldn’t…” You stop his apology with a soft kiss. When you pull back, you’re smiling. “Jude.” He looks at you, his expression vulnerable in a way he rarely lets anyone see. “I didn’t make you…”

“Shhh,” you soothe, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “It’s okay. It’s flattering.” “It’s embarrassing,” he corrects, but some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “It means I was doing something right,” you say, your voice low and warm. You shift slightly, feeling him still semi-hard inside you. “And we’re not done.”

His brow furrows. “What?” You begin to move again, a slow, sensual rock of your hips. His breath hitches. He’s oversensitive, but the spark is still there. “My turn,” you murmur, leaning close so your lips are at his ear. “Just relax. Let me feel you. Let me use you.”

A low moan escapes him. The embarrassment is slowly being replaced by a dazed, submissive awe. His hands slide from your thighs to your hips, not to guide you now, but simply to hold on as you take your pleasure. You set a gentle, steady pace. Your eyes are locked on his as you move, chasing the crest of your own wave. He watches, mesmerized, as you fall apart above him. His earlier finish has left you slick and sensitive, every movement sending ripples of intense pleasure through you.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his voice full of reverence. His thumbs stroke your hip bones. “Look at you. So beautiful. Take what you need, baby. Use me. I’m yours.” His words, his complete surrender, push you over the edge. Your climax builds slowly, then breaks with a quiet, trembling intensity. You cry out his name, shuddering around him, milking the last echoes of sensation from both your bodies.