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You met him one day out of the blue, through a friend of a friend that was apparently better connected than you ever dreamed they were. You were starstruck and screaming inside, but you kept it all inside and put your best acting skills to the test, acting like an actual normal human being rather than the stuttering idiot flailing in your head. If he noticed, he kept it to himself, and by the end of the night, you had quite a lot to brag about to friends back home. You didn't expect to see him again, but you were wrong.
You ended up at the same party a few months later, a party that you still weren't sure how you finagled your way into. He was one of the very few semi-familiar faces there, and to your undying shock, he recognized you and actually went out of his way to talk to you. You were again in shock but you once again managed to act cool about it, or at least you desperately hoped so. It wasn't so hard to do when he had the kind of energetic, goofy personality that almost immediately put you at ease and made you feel like he really did want to talk with you and wasn't just being nice or polite. And if you swooned a little and possibly fell a tiny bit in love the first time you half-accidentally made him throw his head back and laugh like you were a genuinely hilarious person, well, who wouldn't?
That was six months ago. You became friends first, only seeing each other sporadically thanks to life and its demands on you both. But those occasional encounters were enough, and when the flirting started, you barely even comprehended what was happening until he asked you out on an honest to God date. After internally picking your jaw up off the floor, you said yes, and now, two months later, here you were.
Here was a bar, a pretty big one, and he was on your left amid a big group of friends all downing shots while you stuck to slightly more conservative drinks. You didn't want to get anywhere beyond tipsy, as the two of you had been apart for two weeks and you wanted to soak up every moment you got to spend with him. Sitting at a table and smiling at the antics of your friends, you sipped your drink and looked his way when his hand slipped into yours and held it at your side. Your smile grew and you closed your eyes as he leaned in and kissed your cheek sweetly, his beard tickling your skin as he murmured a few words directly into your ear so that you could hear over all the ruckus.
"Missed you."
"I missed you too," you answered, though you could still barely believe that all of this is real. He kissed your temple and you glanced at your friend, the one responsible for introducing the two of you, and she smiled happily for you before downing another shot.
If you were being perfectly honest, you would have much rather been somewhere much more private, especially after how he had left you before your brief separation the several weeks before. It had been the first time that you'd stayed the night at his place, the first time you had slept together and been truly intimate, and it had been nothing short of life changing. He had been so sweet and attentive and so incredibly loving, and you'd never experienced anything like it before. Letting him go the next day and then waiting for his return had been torture, but now he was back and all was right again.
And thanks to both the buzz of the alcohol you'd drank and his proximity, your heart was already pounding and you couldn't wait to leave.
He asked you over the loud music playing and the other voices what you had been up to while he'd been gone. You answered with the honest, mostly boring details, which was of work, for the most part. He kept up his end of the small talk, but you ended up focusing mostly on his lips and how they moved rather than his actual words. Your eyes eventually dropped to to his neck, then to the little peek of his collarbone and chest through the probably too-small v-neck shirt that he wore under his jacket. You were staring at the little teasing glimpse of his tattoo from just beneath the fabric when he noticed your wandering eyes and squeezed your hand.
"My eyes are up here, you know," he joked, and your eyes snapped up to his right before you laughed and felt yourself blush. His hand left yours and went to your knee, bare thanks to the semi-short dress you had on.
"Sorry," you giggled softly, and you couldn't help but let your eyes wander again as you leaned a bit closer to his side. "I just... I kinda..."
"What?" he spurred you on, fingers ticklingly brushing the inside of your knee, reminding you of much less innocent touches he'd given you before.
You glanced around first and then replied, "I just wish we were alone right now, that's all."
The way that he looked at you, first in your eyes and then at your lips, told you that he felt the same, but his reply was a quiet, "We will be, soon enough."
Then his fingers slipped stealthily up your skirt, just far enough to make sure that you knew it was a promise of what was to come later. Your breath hitched, and he must have seen the look in your eye because he leaned in and whispered in your ear low enough to make you shiver, "Be good."
It was an order you couldn't follow.
His hand left your leg, and you kept drinking, until you were tipsy and just lightheaded enough to start losing some of your inhibitions. You laughed louder than usual, giggling every time he touched you or said something even mildly funny, and since you had to wait forever until you could get him alone, you decided you were at least allowed to stare shamelessly and show your affection, so you did.
You played with his dark brown hair, combed back on his head and parted on the side, short but full and complimented perfectly by the beard you had a great fondness for. Your hands linked again, and you laid your head on his shoulder when your head got fuzzy. He was talking to the others rather animatedly, making them laugh while you distracted yourself by all but drowning in his scent and, when it got to be too much, kissing his neck once most of the others had gotten up to dance.
He turned his head towards yours as you kept nuzzling him, and his finger tilted up your chin as he asked, "Wanna dance?"
Normally, you'd say yes, especially once you had some drinks in you, but right now... "No," you shook your head, hand letting go of his and moving on top of his thigh that was pressed against yours. Then you looked up into his blue eyes, briefly dazed by his unfairly long lashes before his lips stole your attention again and you just had to kiss him.
You tried to make it soft and sweet, but it ended up being a little more desperate than you would have liked. He didn't seem to mind, at least not at first, kissing you back with equal passion and winding his hand into your hair as you opened your mouth and let your tongue tease his. You drew a low groan from his throat that you felt more than heard, and it spurred you into sliding your hand higher up his thigh and then along the inside of it. The table hid both of your laps from the view of others, so you weren't too worried about being seen.
He broke the kiss but didn't stop your hand just yet, his forehead against yours as he grinned, "Well, someone's impatient."
"And you're not?" you teased, grinning up at him as your hand almost just grazed...
He caught your wrist and told you in a low, serious voice, "Stop."
You merely giggled and moved your hand again the minute he let go of it. "Aw, come on..."
He said your name and then grabbed your wrist again, this time with an iron grip that made you freeze and look up to find his eyes deadly serious. "I said stop."
You swallowed, sobering up a little as you realized how serious he really was. You moved your hand away, obeying, and then he said in a way that made your heart rate spike, "I told you to be good, remember?"
Your eyes lifted back to his, head swimming again as you saw the heat in his gaze. He liked this. He liked telling you what to do, and this was... new. You hadn't seen this side of him before. Maybe little hints here and there, and you knew that he generally enjoyed control in most situations, but...
Your reply came out of your mouth on a whim and with a tiny little smile on your face. "And what if I'm bad?"
His eyes darkened and the lust there became undeniable as he replied without missing a beat, "Then I'll have to punish you."
You lost your breath and felt your insides jolt at those few little dangerous words. Nobody had ever looked at you or spoken to you like this before, and the implications of what he said had you dying with curiosity. What did he mean by that? What would he do? What sorts of ideas were running through that pretty head of his, as he stared at you in a way that just dared you to defy him?
There was only one way to find out. You slid your hand back to his thigh and deliberately rubbed your palm over him, and judging by the way he jerked slightly and took a sharp breath, he hadn't been expecting that.
"I might like that," you purred, blaming the alcohol for how bold you were being. You weren't normally like this, but then again, neither was he.
His eyes flashed and you could almost believe that he was legitimately angry with you. But you knew him, even if you didn't yet know this side of him, and you knew that this wasn't typical anger. No, this was something much better, and you wanted to learn all about it, wanted him to teach you.
He moved your hand away one last time, and then his free hand was on the back of your neck, under your hair and holding you in a possessive sort of way that hinted at what was to come later. Then his lips were at your ear.
"You're gonna regret that."
You highly doubted that. This might end up being one of the best decisions of your life.
He kept up his stony, angered act the entire way home. The two of you shared a cab and you decided to make your grave even deeper, keeping up your teasing and continuing to disobey him. With every new act of defiance on your part, he glared at you even more and scolded you with his eyes alone, but the reckless idiot in you utterly loved it. You had no idea what you were in for and the unknown aspect of it made it all the more exciting. You were dying of anticipation by the time you made it to his place, though you stayed silent and let him pull you into his side and hold you there as he walked you up to his apartment.
Neither of you said a word, and you stayed steady on your feet despite the buzz still making your brain fuzzy. Once you both made it to his door, he took you by surprise by putting his hand on the middle of your lower back and pushing you swiftly against the door, face first, and then holding you there by pressing his entire body against yours. You gasped in surprise, hands bracing on the door as he easily put his key into the doorknob and said as his lips grazed your ear, "Ready?"
He turned the lock and you closed your eyes as he kissed your neck, just once. He was much taller than you and equally more broad, making it feel as if you were completely surrounded by him and trapped by his body. His free hand was curled on your hip, fingers digging just hard enough to barely hurt. "Ready for what?" you breathed.
He pushed the door open and then grabbed you before you stumbled inside, his arm going around your middle to keep you upright. Then he was leading you inside and kicking the door shut behind him, and your head spun as he turned you and slammed you against the door with a loud thud. He was on you in an instant, bending to your level and jerking your head up with his fingers under your chin as he finally gave you his answer.
"Your punishment."
Your insides flipped violently, and you knew he could tell how deeply you were already affected. You blinked rapidly a few times, your hands going to his forearms and your eyes trying to stay focused on his, and he asked with a faint, maddening little grin, "What, did you think I was just saying that?"
"No," you replied automatically. "Well... I don't know. I've never seen you like this."
His eyes softened a little, some of the dark glee gone for a moment as he looked you over, as if he was suddenly worried about how the night was proceeding. His fingers slipped to the side of your face, gentle this time, and he replied softly, "You okay with this?"
You nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, I just... it's new."
He nodded again, eyes understanding. Still cradling your face, he said, "Yeah, I got the feeling it was. It's okay. I'd never do anything to you that you don't want."
"I want it," you replied earnestly. "I do. I trust you."
"Good," he smiled briefly. "I want it too. I need it. I..."
You watched as he faltered for a moment, looking for the right words. Then when he spoke again, he looked you right in the eyes as he uttered each word.
"I like to be in control. You know that about me. Not just with work. It's not an ego thing and I'm not a sadist, but..."
"... But you just like to be... in charge?" you guessed with a small smile. He'd been so sweet and giving when you had slept with him for the first time a few weeks before, and it was still surprising that he could be like this, but far be it from you to complain of such a thing.
"Yeah," he replied quietly. His eyes flickered over your face, noting the excitement in your eyes and your quick breathing. "And I bet you wouldn't mind taking some orders."
Your heart skipped a beat. "If they're coming from you... yeah."
"You sure?" he grinned. You nodded, and he added, "I can get kinda... carried away. You're gonna need a safeword."
Everything suddenly became very real the minute safeword left his mouth.
"It's gotta be something you'll remember. And you only use it when you really need to."
You nodded, looking down and trying to think of something that wasn't completely stupid sounding but distinct enough for you to remember even when you were... compromised.
Then you smiled, looked up at him and said, "Shield."
He gave you a look, raising an eyebrow before repeating, "Shield?" You just nodded, and he smiled before rolling his eyes, giving you a glimpse of his usual self and making you feel at ease once more. "All right. Shield it is. And remember... it's only for when you really mean it."
You nodded seriously, doubting you'd be using it at all. He was still him after all. He'd never hurt you, especially not on purpose. But these were his rules, and you respected them, especially since he was the one with experience.
"I'm only gonna ask one more time," he said quietly, eyes sincere. "You're sure about this?"
"Completely," you assured him, without a trace of doubt. When he still looked slightly apprehensive, you decided to give him a bit of a push. "Unless you're just all talk and you're not really gonna punish me for being so bad."
And just like that, the fire in his eyes came back even stronger than before. "You questioning me?" When you shrugged innocently, he looked you over, from your eyes to your breasts moving up and down under the bodice of your dress as you breathed. Then he met your eyes again, his voice turning dangerous again as he said, "Guess I'll have to punish you for that too."
A smart little retort was on the tip of your tongue, but you never got to utter it because suddenly his hand was at the back of your head, grasping your hair in an iron grip. He didn't pull or yank it, but he held it so fiercely and roughly that it stole the breath right out of you. Then he turned the two of you around, away from the door, and began walking you towards his bedroom, eyes fixed upon yours the entire way.
You hadn't even gotten started yet, but you were already trembling with anticipation and feeling like you might burst, just from the way that he was looking at you. He was so much bigger than you and was carrying himself with such power that you were ready to melt and give in to his every whim.
You were crossing the threshold of his room as he told you lowly, "You're gonna do everything I tell you to do, understand? When I say it, you do it. You don't hesitate. You don't question me. You obey me. Can you do that?"
Your brain already short circuiting, your mouth dropped slightly open and you nodded as you felt something soft behind your legs. It turned out to be his bed, which the two of you stood in front of after he brought you to a stop.
"You can speak, you know," he told you with a tiny grin. "Though I do have one condition."
"What's that?" you asked, trying to sound confident but instead sounding more shaky than anything.
"You call me sir," he replied. "Can you do that?"
You nodded. "Yes."
He raised an eyebrow and looked at you expectantly. "Yes what?"
Oh. "Yes sir."
He grinned, clearly pleased. "See? You can be a good girl if you want to be. Do you want to be good for me?"
His voice was a low purr now, his hands moving slowly up your hips and bringing up your dress along with them. He leaned in closer, not quite kissing but running his lips along your neck as you closed your eyes and nodded. "Yes sir."
The hem of your dress up around your waist now, his hands ran over the lingerie you had on underneath. You had gone all out tonight for him, with stockings and lace panties and a silky garter that you knew he'd appreciate, all black, and now his fingertips were seeing it before his eyes did. He groaned softly and then asked against your ear, "Good girls don't tease me like you did earlier."
"I'm sorry," you manage to squeak out, just as he reached to the zipper at the back of your dress. He easily slid it down and slipped the dress off of you entirely, then drew back to take in your full visage, which you had to admit was pretty good tonight.
He cursed, eyes narrowing in pure desire as he soaked up the image before him. When he finally managed to get his eyes back up to yours after raking lustfully over your entire body, he asked, "What are you sorry for?"
"For teasing you," you answered, just wanting him to really touch you, but you knew it might be awhile before you had earned such a privilege. "And for doing it after you told me to stop."
He hummed, sliding a single finger along one of your garter straps. He watched his finger slide down to the top of your thigh, then flashed his eyes back up to yours and asked, "What would a good girl have done?"
You blinked a few times, finding thinking to be nearly impossible at the moment. "Um... not... teased you?"
"Yeah," he nodded, his hand moving to the inside of your other thigh and sliding slowly upwards, making you hold your breath. Then he leaned so close that his lips almost touched yours. "A good girl would have either stopped when I told her to, or crawled under the table to get on her knees and make it worth my while."
You almost gasped. You did inhale sharply and turn a new shade of red as you stuttered, "... Oh."
"I'm flexible like that," he said, like he was truly generous and you just hadn't been. "And you had to know what you were doing to me. Being away from you and missing you like fucking crazy, then having you do that to me in front of our friends... making me want you when I was already trying not to lose it and rip your clothes off right there in the middle of the bar..."
His confession was like another shot of alcohol down your throat, leaving you warm and dizzy and happy as you realized how mutual your overwhelming desire was. You had always worried that it was stronger on your part, and sometimes you still wondered how in the world you had even drawn him in at all, but as he stood there touching you and staring darkly at you after telling you just how much he wanted you... it was hard to feel anything but confident.
It ended up being just the last push you needed to get through the night.
"And now you're standing here in front of me," he said, taking his hands off of you to shed his jacket and still running his eyes all over you, "and I can't decide how I want to punish you."
You tried not to shiver, hands at your sides though you wanted to grab hold of him and never let go. His jacket hit the floor and he immediately reached for you, crowding you again and making you feel even smaller than you really were, and you didn't mind the feeling in the least. He stared at you, contemplating what to do with you, and you held your breath and waited.
Finally, he made a decision. He leaned in close like he was going to kiss you, lips coming so close to yours that it hurt how badly you wanted them to touch, but then his hand curled around your shoulder and abruptly pushed you down to your knees in front of him.
"Start making it up to me."
You looked up at him, surprised but more aroused and eager than anything, and if this was your punishment... well, you were okay with this. Your hands went to his belt before he could utter a word of unnecessary instructions, and you made quick work of getting his jeans out of the way and your relatively small hand wrapped around him. You kept your eyes focused there, licking your lips and feeling your heart pounding as you leaned closer, only to feel his hand grip your hair and suddenly yank your head back to look up at him.
"Don't you dare tease me," he said lowly, almost threateningly, like if you disobeyed him, you'd live to regret it.
The thought hadn't even entered your mind until he said it. Now that it was there, that reckless glutton for punishment within you wanted nothing more than to tease him until he really punished you.
Still, you replied, "Yes sir," and closed your eyes and took him in your mouth, like the good girl you were trying to be. His reaction was instant, a long, heavy sigh from his lips and his fingers in your hair relaxing before tightening again and, after a few moments you spent getting your bearings, guiding you and making you move how he wanted you to. You followed his lead perfectly, the picture of obedience, and when he started moaning, it made you moan with him and open slightly watery eyes to watch him above you.
He was watching you, gaze unwavering, both hands ending up in your hair, though he wasn't guiding you any longer. He didn't have to. You might have only slept together once before, but this was something you had more practice with. You knew how he liked it, and just the same, you knew how to keep him on the edge and drive him insane. And that was what you did, though he had expressly told you not to and you were supposed to be making up for your earlier transgressions.
What could you say? You just couldn't help yourself.
He said your name as he panted and moaned brokenly, just like you had wanted him to, hands grasping at your hair, but you were bad and you didn't give in. You kept it light and teasing at the worst possible time, and if you were smiling when he growled in frustration and yanked you up to your feet by your hair, that was just beyond your control.
"What did I say?" he said, eyes on fire and voice on edge as the smile fell of your face. He grasped your chin and growled, "You do what I say. You obey me."
"I'm sorry, I just -"
His finger covered your lips, and you immediately shut up. "Don't speak until I say you can."
It was like your skin was erupting in flames all around you, and he had barely even touched you. Just his words and a look at this unbelievably dominating side of him was enough to be your ruin.
He stared hard at you for a moment before reaching a decision on how best to deal with you. He grabbed your arm and spun you around, not exactly gentle but just the right kind of harsh as he then pushed you down on the bed, on your front as you scrambled to your hands and knees and got to the middle of the bed. But he was right behind you, grasping your ankle and holding you still as he climbed on the bed and then let go to move his hand to your back. You held still, unsure of what to do and afraid to ask, and when you felt his hand slide up towards your neck, the next thing you felt was what seemed like his bare chest on your back as he held himself above you. You tried to twist your head around to see if he'd taken off more clothes that fast, but then his hand was on the back of your head and forcing it forward as he said, "No. You don't get to look. Not yet."
You whined a little, but all he did was chuckle darkly before moving all of your hair to one side of your head and murmuring into your ear, "Should have thought about that before you decided to be bad again."
Then he was kissing the back of your neck, and your eyes closed as your skin tingled everywhere he touched it. He kissed a soft, increasingly open mouthed line down your spine as his fingers went to the clasp of your bra, your hands grasping the sheets under you as he easily pulled the hooks apart and let the bra fall to the bed before you tossed it away. Then his hand went to your breasts and teased both, dangling helplessly as they were in your position, all while his lips continued their slow drag down your spine and left you torn as to which sensation to focus on the most.
The first time you let out a whimper of pleasure, his hand left you and so did his mouth. He straightened up so you could no longer feel him on you, and the loss of sensation made you open your eyes and your mouth before you remembered that you weren't allowed to speak. You waited for what felt like forever, and then there was finally something - fingers plucking at your garter, pulling the straps free. Then two fingers easily and quietly pulling down your panties but not taking them all the way off, and you suddenly had a sinking feeling that you knew what was coming next.
Then he was back, chest rubbing along your back as his mouth found its way back to your ear. His hand slid up the back of your thigh as he roughly told you one single word. "Count."
Your eyes opened and you were about to forget the rules and ask what that meant, but then you gasped and yelped instead when there was a sudden sharp, stinging pain where he had just spanked you. Despite your previous suspicions of what he was building up to, it still hit you like a ton of bricks, and he had to remind you to count before you choked out one as you continued to reel.
His hand soothed over where he'd slapped you, and to your surprise, he kissed your shoulder and then asked you softly, "Remember your safeword?"
"Yeah," you muttered, voice as shaky as the arms holding yourself up.
"Good." Then he spanked you again, harder this time, and the sound that came out of your mouth sounded a lot more like a moan than a cry of pain. It surprised even you, and he groaned like a tortured man, "You fucking like this."
It was news to you, but then again, so was this entire night so far. And you had still barely even gotten started.
He kept going, and you managed to count up to six before he started playing dirty and letting his hand wander between slaps. He cursed at the effect that his punishment was having on you, getting distracted by the evidence of it between your legs and letting his fingers play as you gasped and nearly collapsed to the bed several times. Then he stopped and continued your punishment, and you whined incoherently at the change. He did this several more times, teasing you and then making you hurt with the sort of pain you ended up being more than okay with, even if it left you only more frustrated and needy by the time you counted to ten and it was over.
You did collapse then, breathing hard and feeling like a complete mess, desperate and aching in more places than one but doubting that relief would come any time soon. But then you were being turned on your back and was soon gathered into big, warm arms, comforting you as his familiar voice spoke sweetly into your ear and helped you pull yourself together.
"Sh, sh," he said, wiping at your eyes that had apparently been watering quite involuntarily. "It's okay. You did so good, baby, so good. I was afraid that was gonna be too much."
It almost was, but in a good way. You looked up into his eyes, blinking away the moisture in your own and feeling your heart stir at the sweet, proud way that he was staring down at you as he stroked your cheek and held you close. It was a far cry from his previous lust-filled anger, though the lust part was definitely still there. You could feel it against your leg, barely restrained by the jeans he hadn't bothered to take off yet.
Then he leaned down and kissed you, and it was the first time he had kissed you since the bar. It felt like heaven and you melted deeper into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck and getting lost in the sweet contrast of his soft lips and rough facial hair. He kissed you slowly at first, then increasingly passionately as his hands slowly went to work ridding of you of the last few scraps of lace on your body. Once they were gone and you were completely bare to his eyes, he broke your kiss and looked you up and down, watching his hand slide up your belly to cup your breast and tease it in a way that made you close your eyes and nearly beg.
Instead, you asked a question in a voice so small you couldn't believe it was yours. "Is my punishment over?"
He laughed. Laughed. "Oh, baby... that was just the start of it."
You closed your eyes and felt the oddest sensation, like your heart was dropping in the very same moment that every nerve ending in your body came to life, as if the impending torture was something to be excited about.
Then again, it totally was.
He kissed you to stop you from whining again, and soon his hand was wandering again, this time between your legs and to the place that was aching perhaps worse than ever before, if your memory could be trusted. You gasped into his mouth at the first touch, and he cursed roughly, "You're so fucking wet, baby. You really liked that, didn't you?"
You really had, and all you could do was scratch your nails down the back of his head, through his hair, as you moaned and he kissed your neck. You opened your legs wide and rocked against his hand mindlessly and wantonly, trying to get more when all he did was tease and give you almost enough pressure to satisfy you, but he didn't let you get what you wanted. This was your fault, you knew, but you still whined as he sucked deliberate marks into your neck and left you wanting when he eventually drew his hand away and lifted his head to look down upon you.
"You're fucking gorgeous like this," he said, the tone of his voice and the look in his hungry eyes leaving no room for doubt. "Look at you. I knew you had this in you."
You furrowed your brows slightly and were about to ask how he had ever suspected all of this laid dormant inside of you, but before you could manage a single word, he was on top of you and kissing you dizzyingly deeply. You immediately wrapped yourself around him, arms and legs, hands and feet, as if it might convince him to just give up and give into you. But, deep down, you didn't want him to. Secretly you were enjoying the torture far too much to be done with it yet.
He made his lazy way down your body, kissing every inch of you and leaving your skin pink from his lips, his teeth, his beard, sometimes all three. You liked the sting and welcomed the pain-tinged pleasure, altogether a writhing mess by the time his lips were beneath your belly button and inching lower. Your hands were in his hair, clawing and scratching and making a mess out of it before he raised his head and then taking your wrists in his hands.
"Hold the rails," he said, placing your hands up towards the top of the bedframe. You exhaled deeply but obeyed, gripping the wood and then clenching it with all your might only a moment later, when his mouth had ventured lower and your next round of torture officially began.
The first time he had ever done this to you, it had been in your own apartment, when he had come to pick you up for your fourth date. He had walked inside, taken one look at you in your little tight black dress and high heels, and before you even comprehended what was happening, the door was slammed shut and you were on your couch with him on his knees in front of you. You never quite made it to your date that night, and to put it simply, he loved making you fall apart that way. You knew how much he enjoyed it, and this time, he was able to take his time and toy with you to new lengths thanks to the luxury of having no intention of finishing the job.
You whined, begged, pleaded, moaned his name over and over, all to no avail. Your hands ached with how hard they gripped the wood, and it felt like it lasted forever and yet not long enough, because by the time he stopped, you were in tears. You were a mess, his face was a mess, and you felt like you had lost your mind and were no longer even you as he kissed you sweetly and wiped the frustrated tears from your eyes.
He was shushing you again, cradling you to comfort you and calm you down, his voice quiet but full of his own unfulfilled desire. "It's okay, baby. Breathe. Tell me what you want now. Do you want me to fuck you?"
You whimpered, incapable of speech, answering him by pulling him down and kissing him so sloppily and desperately that it felt filthy even to you. Or maybe that was just because he still tasted like you and made damn sure that you knew it.
"Come on, talk to me," he said, breaking the kiss and sliding his hand down between your legs, just to heap on some more torture and make it even harder for you to speak. "Ask me to fuck you, beg me for it, and I might let you come this time."
There was no shame or shyness left in you by this point, and even if there had been, it still wouldn't have stopped you from groaning and giving in. "Please," you whimpered, almost crying all over again but not, "please, fuck me, Chris, I swear I'll be good from now on. Just please..."
If you still weren't supposed to use his name, your slip up apparently didn't matter to him because the next thing you knew, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up so that you were off your back and sitting up as he kissed the life out of you. You would have climbed in his lap and taken what you wanted had his stupid jeans not been in the way, and before you could ask why in the world they were still even on him, he gently let you go and stood up from the bed. You sat there, dazed and wrecked as you watched him take off the rest of his clothes, and you couldn't help but stare even though it wasn't the first time you'd seen him naked.
He was the closest thing to perfect you had ever seen and surely ever would see. It wasn't just the obvious things like the muscles, the tattoos, the hair, the beard, the arms that might have been your favorite because of how safe you felt in them. It was everything. But he didn't give you much time to admire him before he was coming back to you, except this time he was grasping your hand and tugging you until you were sliding off of the bed. He was trying to get you to stand, but you weren't sure that you even could, so you began to ask, "What are you..."
"The wall," he replied, and it was all the explanation that was necessary. He pulled you to your feet, picked you up like you weighed nothing, and then slammed you into the wall next to his bed before you had so much as taken a full breath.
It hurt a little bit, but you were into that these days apparently, so you moaned a little instead of whimpering in pain. With your legs wrapped around him and your arms clutching his shoulders tightly, his hands shifted your hips into place as he placed a long, hot, lingering kiss on your lips. You sighed against his mouth and fell under his spell, and you opened your eyes when he ended the kiss, took a breath, and then opened his own eyes to look directly into yours as he finally, finally pushed inside of you.
You moaned and closed your eyes. He kept his open and watched you, making sure that you were okay and didn't need a minute to adjust or breathe like you had the first time you had done this two weeks ago, but this time was very different and you were incredibly ready. You proved it by pushing against him a little, which made his jaw clench and eyes blink a few times before he finally started moving the way you wanted him to.
You nearly cried in relief, and you weren't the only one affected on a deep, barely describable level. He let out a low, rough groan and let his face drop to your neck, and though you started slow, soon he was biting your neck, digging his fingers into your hips, and thrusting into you like his very life depended on it.
You were on the edge in what felt like an instant. Then he started growling into your ear and pushing you even closer to that precipice.
"You feel so fucking good," he said, lips on your ear. "Even better than I remember. Fuck." He drew his head back far enough to watch your face, his pace and his rhythm never once faltering. "You ready to come now, baby?"
Your eyes opened and sought his own as you nodded fiercely, moaning in relief and then nothing but pleasure when one of his hands grasped one of your breasts and played with it just right to help you along. He kissed you again, then moved faster at just the right angle to make you finally, at long last, see stars burst behind your eyes.
But just before you closed your eyes and let yourself fall apart, he had one last order that he spoke against your parted lips. "Come for me, baby. Scream. Scream for me."
And you did. You might have even if he hadn't told you to, but as it was, you obeyed without a single trace of embarrassment or even full awareness of what you were doing, and it was one of the single most perfect moments of your young life so far.
You didn't want it to end, but after an impressively long time, it did. You came back to yourself still pressed to the wall, legs trembling around the man that had singlehandedly done all of this to you, and he was perfectly still as he softly kissed you back down to earth.
"That was perfect," he told you, like he was awestruck. You blinked your eyes open as he pressed his forehead to yours and smiled at you, and you couldn't help but smile back as well.
You thought he'd carry you back to bed, finish you both off, and then fall asleep holding you close. You were wrong.
"You're gonna do that again," he told you before starting to adjust the way that he was holding you. You stared at him in half-conscious bewilderment, then looked down as he began moving your legs so that they weren't wrapped around his waist but rather were slung over his forearms while his arms alone held you up. Then, his hands tight on your hips, he turned the two of you around so that his back was to the wall, and he kissed you once more before starting to lift you up and down, up and down, taking you in a way that you had never even thought of before. But he was more than strong enough to support all of your weight, and you were the perfect size for him to do it.
The angle was different, and it left you gasping all over again. You were a little over-sensitive at first but the mild discomfort quickly faded, and then you were moaning again and kissing him furiously with your fingers buried in his hair.
He broke the kiss to say in a deep, breathless voice, "You like this, huh?"
You opened your eyes, fingers still clutching his hair as you looked down and watched him move you both. He pulled you down while he thrusted up, completely controlling the rhythm and every last thing that you both felt, and you wouldn't have changed a thing. You knew you'd be asking for this again in the future.
You barely had to move a muscle, and he made it look utterly effortless to do every last bit of the work and drive you right into your second release of the night. He listened to your moans and watched your face, knowing when you were close and moving you faster and faster the closer you got. You let your head fall back and you might have screamed again, your entire body coming alive and all but singing for him.
Somehow, it was even better than the first time. Giving in and letting him do with you as he wished, pulling your strings and controlling every movement your body made, making you see stars as he used you in a way that you were perfectly and wholly okay with... maybe this was what you had been missing your whole life.
He held you after you lost your mind, still holding you up and still even inside you as you panted with your face buried in his neck like you'd just run a race. He kissed your hair and let you calm down before he eventually carried you back to bed and laid you down carefully. You were in a state of bliss, and the night could have ended there and you would have been completely satisfied. But one glance with your slightly blurry eyes to his lower half as he hovered over you confirmed that he wasn't quite done with you yet.
"On your hands and knees," he ordered you gently, kissing your lips one more time before you obeyed, somehow finding the strength to roll over and get in the position. Like before, he covered your body with his larger one, kissing the back of your neck and touching you lovingly all over before sliding back inside and moaning while you sighed and gripped the sheets with shaky hands. It was almost too much, but you could handle it. You knew you could because he knew you could.
Once he was settled into a surprisingly slow, gentle rhythm, you gasped when his hand reached around to play with you and softly prod you into yet another release. It built slowly, everything suddenly languid and sweet for a few moments. But then it all changed again when he straightened up, yanked you up harshly by your hair, and told you to hold on to the headboard while both his hand and hips moved faster and faster. He spoke filthy, vulgar things into your ear and kept his free hand wrapped in your hair, pulling it and making you moan louder with each rough little tug, and when you fell apart again, this time your scream was silent.
You sagged bonelessly against the headboard, useless and sure that you were done and could physically take no more. He stopped, gently untangled himself from you, and then you were back in his comforting arms and being laid down in the center of the bed. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose and then your lips, telling you that you were incredible. Then, for the last time that night, he slid inside of you one more time.
You felt like you had left Earth and was floating along some other dimension, lost and perfectly fine with it. This time, with him on top of you, moving gently and kissing you softly as he held you and surrounded you, it felt like it had that very first time. It wasn't frantic or rough, and you were grateful because you wouldn't have been able to handle it if it had been either of those things. Instead it was perfect, the ideal way to end what had been an insanely unexpected night.
The words may not have been spoken between the two of you yet, but as he kissed you and slowly made love to you, you felt so loved and treasured that it made your eyes water a little. You had never felt like this before with anyone else, this connected and this vulnerable, and though it should have been terrifying, you weren't scared in the least.
You watched his face as he finally reached his end, his forehead against yours, eyes closed and mouth open in a long, lingering moan that matched his body's erratic movements and his low gasps for breath. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst the entire time that you watched it all play out, words unable to describe how deeply you felt for this man. You were in deep, very deep, but judging by the way that he looked at you before collapsing with his head on your chest, you weren't the only one.
After, all was quiet for a little while. You had no idea what to say, or if you could even speak yet, so you remained quiet and waited for him to speak first. Eventually, he rolled all the way off of you and then pulled you into his arms, sighing contentedly like he had everything he needed right there.
It was sweet and you felt safer there in his sleepy embrace than you ever had anywhere else in your entire life. But eventually the silence drove you crazy, and you had to break it before you lost your mind.
Your voice was hoarse when you spoke, and you wondered exactly how loudly you had screamed. "So... if that's what happens when I'm 'bad'... I might end up being bad... a lot."
He laughed, and it was a deep, relieving rumble in your ear. His fingers running softly through your wrecked hair, he tilted your head up and smiled down at you. "Now don't be getting any ideas there."
"Too late," you grinned. "Already trying to figure out ways to make this happen again."
He hummed and shook his head, still smiling. "Don't tell me I created a monster."
"Maybe," you smiled. Then you said casually, "DC's better than Marvel."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You'll have to do better than that."
"Fine. The Fantastic Four was terrible."
He remained unimpressed. "And?"
You paused, thinking hard with your sex-addled, mostly useless brain. "You dress like an overgrown frat boy on Spring Break."
"Totally the look I'm going for," he shrugged, and you both laughed quietly.
"Disney sucks."
His eyes widened. "Blasphemy. But still not gonna work, because I know you're lying."
"Fine, I give up," you sighed, yawning a little and snuggling deeper into his side, purring when he managed to draw the covers up and over the two of you. "I'm really glad you're back."
"Me too," he murmured, kissing your hair and holding you tighter. "Sure none of that was... too much?"
You shook your head against his chest. "Oh God, no. No. That was like... the kind of thing I've only dreamed about. It was perfect. Which is why I'm trying to figure out how to make it happen again."
Again tilting your head up, his tired eyes met your own one more time as he smiled, "All you have to do is ask."
"Okay," you smiled back. "Because I was totally just gonna say tomorrow night that Tom Brady sucks and is a liar and a cheat and see if that worked."
His cheerful expression instantly fell. "You wouldn't."
You grinned. "I would."
"Those are fighting words."
You chuckled and rolled your eyes, settling your head back down against his chest and replying, "Guess I'm just a bad girl like that."
"Keep up that kind of talk," he said sleepily, eyes closing as he relaxed beneath her, "and I'll have to find my handcuffs."
You smiled as you closed your eyes and, surprisingly quickly, drifted off to sleep, but not before you managed to drowsily mutter three more words before you were comatose: bring it on.