#[ love him ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

krispykremedonutt · 13 hours ago

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GOSH the way mark is written in this is so 😫

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌹wc. 5471🌹୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Yeah.” Your voice is soft, fingers carding through Mark’s hair, the silky feel between your fingers is the only thing keeping you from wearing your excitement on your fucking forehead.

“Wait, really?” He perks up, pretty brown eyes focused on your face, searching your expression for a hint of deception but all he finds are kiss swollen lips curled into a sheepish smile, fluttering lashes and a tongue that swipes across your bottom lip with the same fluidity he wants to feel against his leaky tip.

“Yes, really.” You snort.

And Mark’s excitement is palpable, lips curling into a wide grin, and he sits up, blankets pooling at your hips and you glance down at the very, very prominent shape in his boxers. The fabric pulled so taut that you’re beginning to think he might actually lose circulation and you watch as Mark reaches over, grabbing your phone from beside his and he unlocks it.

Fingers flying over the cracked screen guard, and he taps his fingers impatiently against your cover.

“What are you doing?” Your brows scrunch in confusion, thighs tossed over his ones and you feel the way warm muscles tense and twitch under the weight of your legs.

“Playlist.” Mark whispers, his fingers scrolling through your Spotify, adding just the right songs.

“Are you serious?” You groan, laughter tinging at the edge of your voice, as you stare at Mark. Clad in a President Nixon T-shirt and black boxers, raven strands tousled messily from the way your fingers carded through the strands so incessantly, a dopey grin formed by lips reddened from kissing and his fucking eyes.

So dazed, pupils blown wide and long lashes fluttering with each half-blink. Light reflects off the pretty brown of his eyes, and you could stare at him like this forever.

“Okay, done.” Mark whispers, setting your phone back down and he adjusts the sound just a bit until he’s hovering back over you, lips ghosting over yours. The ball of his nose bumping against yours in sweet butterfly kisses, his hand moving to rest on your waist while the other supports his weight above you.

“Do you have condoms?” Mark questions softly, lips pressing against yours in sweet, gentle kisses. Slowly trailing his lips along your jaw, his hips pressing into yours and you feel the way he grinds his clothed cock against your pussy, the flimsy fabric of your nightshorts doing nothing to obscure how you’re soaking through the cotton.

“I— hah…” A weak sigh leaves your lips when Mark kisses the hollow beneath your ear, and your thighs wrap around his waist firmly “I don’t think we wear the same condom size.”

A breathy laugh against your neck has your cunt oozing slick, a pool beneath your hips and you’re trying not to whine whenever his ridge catches at your sloppy folds. “Yeah.” Mark murmurs. “Your dick’s so much bigger than mine.” And he kisses the curve of your neck. “What size are you?”

“Magnum.” You whisper. “Extra large, with extra ribbing.”

And Mark laughs, his head lifting. “Why do you know so much about condoms?”

“I don’t.” You snort. “I pulled that out of my ass, but.” You hum. “How couldn’t you guess that? Don’t you know about condoms?”

And Mark shrugs. “No. I always thought that with the right person, I wouldn’t have to wear them.”

His voice is quiet as he looks down at you, pretty eyes roving over your features and he swallows, lips curling into a dorkish grin that has you weak, your belly clenching at the way he slips his hand under your shirt, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before his hand slides up further. Stopping until his thumb traces over the curve of the underside of your breast.

“Call it alien instincts.” He whispers, pressing another kiss to your neck and you sigh. “M’still waiting for you to dry out and get all gross.”

“I’m not like ET. I’m basically like… Kryptonian.” He answers softly, sucking a mark into your skin and you gasp at the sudden sharpness of the action. A slight pinch that makes your heels press into his lower back.

“And what’s your kryptonite?” You hum softly.

“I’d tell you to take a guess but that’s kinda cheesy.” Mark whispers against your skin. “So, it’s comic books.”

You let out a giggle, your lips parting to say something but Mark’s thumb brushes over your nipple, teasing the velvety soft bud until it stiffens beneath his grasp and you take a shaky breath, your lashes fluttering shut as you feel the way Mark’s kisses trail lower and lower, until he’s pushing your shirt up, past your belly and tucking it beneath your chin.

And he stares.

Unapologetically.

Muscular fingers flexing as they grasp at your hips, brilliant chestnut pools focused and trained on the way your nipples harden, pebbling under his gaze. And you swallow.

“Is something — bitch, wait, are you playing The Weeknd?” You attempt to sit up, shifting enough for your elbows to support your weight but Mark presses a hand on your chest, pushing you back down and he dips his head. His tongue’s hot as he drags along your nipple, eyes glancing up to watch your expression as his lips find purchase, tongue flicking and his other hand moves back to palming your unattended tit. Your body nearly leaves the surface of your mattress at the way Mark attends to you, pandering to your body and you whine.

“Are you sensitive here?” Mark breathes out, but it’s like you don’t hear him immediately.

Your fingers are raking through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp and Mark groans, eyes fluttering shut as he shifts his attention to the other.

He’s impeccably good at it.

But clumsy enough for you to know that this is his first time.

His hips rut against your thigh desperately and you let out a low sigh, your eyes rolling back.

“Shit…” You whisper, swallowing hard before you nod. “Apparently so.”

And he grins.

“Score.”

Mark tugs at your nipple with his teeth and he lifts his head to admire you.

Glossy, swollen nipples, a belly that’s dipping inward with every shallow breath you take and Mark’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down in one go and Mark tosses them aside. Before grasping at the edge of his shirt, pulling it overhead and tossing it aside.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He breathes out, desperately as he shifts, kisses and hickeys scattering themselves across your torso with each desperate press of his lips, fingers wrapped around your thighs and Mark pushes your legs apart. His lips pressing a kiss against your fleshy, plump mound before guiding your legs to part comfortably.

And your hands immediately go to cover yourself, and he lets out a little hum, before shifting, peering at you with a confused expression. “You okay?”

And your lips purse as you try to find a way to say you’re a little nervous about that. “Are you like….” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Does— do you have to like… do that?”

Mark lifts the covers, hands moving to support his weight as he stares down at you. “If you’re not comfortable with it, we don’t have to do that. It’d just make it easier for later, you know.”

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable, it’s like… You don’t have to, if you don’t like… wa—"

“I want to.” Mark interjects. “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me. I gotta put me first.”

You snort, loudly before looking at Mark. Your brows furrowing as you remember your anxiousness. What if it doesn’t… Like…

“What if it’s like not… You know?”

And Mark lowers himself back to between your thighs, his chin resting on your mound and he watches you with soft, empathetic eyes.

“The worst possible thing that could happen, is you tasting like pennies because you don’t drink water.” Mark deadpans. “But I like the taste of pennies.”

And your lips purse. “We’ll get back to the penny tasting part later but are you sure?” Your voice is quiet.

“I’m sure.” Mark whispers back. “Can I show you how sure I am?”

When you nod, Mark’s head dips and he sighs in delight

Thumbs move to spread your puffy lips apart, your glossy cunt being stared at so intently that you can feel it. But it doesn’t make you any less horny. And Mark groans quietly when he watches the way you twitch.

“Demogorgon.” Mark breathes out and you gasp. “Mark, you fucking asshole. That’s not fun—…nnyyyyy..”

You whine weakly when you feel the way his warm tongue drags through your sloppy folds, slick pooling on the wet muscle and Mark groans as your thighs press against his ears.

Mark feels the way your cunt twitches against his tongue, and he tugs a folds into his mouth, eyes focused on your chest and the way your breath stutters, rather than the whines you’re muffling with your hand.

You’re writhing. With the way you’re trying to simultaneously get away AND closer to his tongue, Mark’s finding it hard to keep the smile from his face. Your fingers sink into his hair, fisting the raven strands and he groans, tongue lapping needily at your dripping pussy and when Mark pays attention to your clit, you squeal. A hand on his forehead, pushing him away.

“Not there—!” You hiss, your voice a weak whine and Mark lifts his head, staring at you from beneath heavy lashes.

And Mark huffs. “Listen here,” He swallows, pushing the covers out of the way and ultimately, leaving them bunched at his waist instead, “I can lick a pudding cup clean in like, a minute. This, this is my calling.”

And you pant, bleary eyes glancing down at him, your cheeks flushed and hot.

“You’re a literal superhero.” You remind him. “I think that’s more … Your calling.”

“Well, lucky for me, I don’t pay you to think.”

“You don’t even pay me.”

And Mark lets out a boyish little giggle, peering up at you and this time, he can make out your features properly. So much better than when the covers were obscuring his vision.

“Shhhh.” Mark shushes you. “I’m busy eating.”

You roll your eyes, although it’s to the back of your head but you’re pretty sure your point is across. Fingers remain clutching your thighs, Mark’s lips find purchase around your clit and he’s suckling at the sensitive bud, only stopping to drag his tongue along the nerves and you whine.

Your body feels like it’s on fire.

“Is it good?” Mark whispers softly. “Do you like that?”

And you nod weakly. “Uh-huh, keep doing that. M’really close…”

Your belly dips in shock, lungs taking in deep breaths of air that just don’t seem enough when you feel his tongue drags along your slit, your toes curl and your brows bunch. And your hips jerk upwards.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You pant. “Mark, m’gonna—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when your orgasm’s ripping through you like a tidal wave, slick bursting from your gooey walls and trickling down your already sloppy cunt. Your body shivers, nerves wracking and you’re trembling with each swipe of Mark’s tongue. And he groans.

“Fuck, you taste so good. What are you eating?” And he peers up at you, his chin glossy and his eyes hazy.

“Uh— berries? I’ve been eating a bit healthier. You know, more juices, less soda.” And Mark nods his head, tongue out and dragging sloppily against your cunt, before he raises his head.

“Keep doing that.” And he buries his face back between your thighs, latching onto your clit and he shakes his head, hands shifting to the backs of your thighs, pushing your legs to your chest. And you’re spread out like a meal. Something for him to admire and feast on until either of you pass out.

And Mark drags his tongue from that furled hole, all the way up to your pretty, puffy pearl and you gasp.

“Way too close!” You huff. “You can’t go that close to my ass.”

And Mark groans against your pussy, looking up at your from beneath furrowed brows and his words are barely audible.

“Boo, tomato, tomato.” He slurps at your cunt, and the sound is loud enough that it drowns out your weak mewls. You’re a little bit oversensitive, your thighs still a bit unsteady and with the way Mark keeps prodding his tongue, you’re guessing he’s not stopping anytime soon.

“Have you ever been fingered?” Mark whispers, using one of his hands to push his hair out of his face, and he melts when your hand replaces his, fingers sliding through the strands and keeping them from falling to his face.

“Where would I have found the time to be fingered?” You breathe out, body twitching whenever his breath ghosts over the slick, a chill breeze that makes your toes curl in your socks.

“Your parents aren’t ever home, you don’t have any hobbies other than sleeping.” Mark shrugs.

“You described an extremely busy schedule to me just now, and I’d like for you to find fingering time on there.”

And he huffs.

“Yapper.” And his middle finger slowly pushes into your cunt, and gorgeous, blown out brown eyes focus on your face, watching every twitch o your brows, every part of your lips for even a lick of pain and discomfort. Your body shifting until your feet are planted on the bed, on either side of him.

“How does it feel?” Mark whispers, tongue tracing over your clit and you swallow hard.

“Like… a little uncomfortable but it doesn’t really hurt-hurt.” You answer softly.

“And if I do this?” Mark’s finger curls, the calloused pad of it brushes against that gooey spot you’ve never reached before and you gasp, nails dragging against his scalp when you fist his hair.

“Do that, please.” You sigh. “S’good.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Mark whispers quietly, his brows scrunching and he can feel the way his cock aches in his boxers, precum soaking through the fabric and he ruts against your bed like a fucking animal. But he’s subtle about it.

Mark sucks at your clit, finger thrusting and brushing along that gooey spot, pressing down until there are stars bursting behind your eyelids, and you squeal.

“Fuck, fuck, right the—!”

You’re coming around Mark’s finger, slick pooling beneath your hips, dripping down the crease of your ass. And you’re fine with it being there.

But Mark isn’t.

He forces your knees to your chest again, head dipping lower before he’s dragging his tongue from the edge of your spine, along your furled entrance, your oozing slit and all the way to your clit and circling it with the point of his tongue.

And you gasp.

“Mark. I swear to God. If I get an infection—”

“I’m not sticking my tongue in your ass, oh my God.” He groans. “But fine. I guess you’re just not about that life.”

And you giggle, bringing your hands up to your face to hide your blush. “You fucking dork.”

“Do— do you think you’re ready?” Mark questions, a hand reaching up to push your face slightly. “Look away.”

“I should probably be ready.” You murmur quietly, your gaze lifting to the ceiling but you can’t even deny that the back of your eyeballs are burning to catch a glimpse of what’s been causing the print you kept eyeing.

For the last couple of years.

And Mark peels off his boxers, before flinging them in your direction. And your mouth falls open. “Why are they wet?” You giggle, a snort slipping past your lips as you pick up his boxers, setting them to the side and you look down at where Mark’s hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, ruddy tip ghosting over your folds. You begin to fear for your organs.

“You know, now that I’m looking at it—”

“I won’t make it fit.” Mark deadpans, dragging his cock along your leaking slit, slick coating his cock and he lets out a shuddering breath when he aligns himself with your hole.

And he swallows heavily.

“Take a deep breath…” Mark breathes in.

And your brows bunch.

He looks… Stressed.

Eyebrows knitted, lips parted to let out calculated breaths, his chest heaving and— oh my god, his hand’s shaking.

“Mark?” You call softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.. I’m just like… hyping myself up— fuck, your hand’s so warm…”

Mark sighs, a whimper slipping past his lips when he feels the way your hand wraps around him, gently guiding his tip towards your fluttering cunt, peering down at you from beneath hooded eyes, his skin prickling and he swallows hard. His body shivering, and muscular hands move to rest on your knees, fingers digging into your flesh as he pushes forward.

Your hands are so much daintier than his, softer, smaller and he feels the way your walls clench, cunt snugly wrapping around his flushed and bulbous tip, and Mark’s brows furrow.

And you snort.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a breathy giggle. “You know, seeing as you’re losing your womanhood.”

Mark’s scowl makes you laugh, your muscles clenching around him and Mark gasps, his hips surging forward a good 3 inches and your eyes widen.

“You motherfucker—!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He breathes out. “I’ll pull out.”

His cock drags against your soft, plush walls, him in that way that makes his lips form a pretty ‘o’ shape, brows raising.

“You’re so warm…” He sighs. “For a heart so cold.”

The laugh slips effortlessly from your lips, your lashes fluttering and one of your hands move to rest on his lower belly, fingertips ghosting over the muscles of his abs but the contact’s enough for his stomach to flex, the sight so painfully delicious that if you didn’t feel like you were being split in half, you’d have slid a dollar down his torso, and Mark leans over you, the silver chain dangling in front of your eyes.

Lips pressing against yours, and your arms slink around his neck, thighs parting to accommodate him better and you feel that uncomfortable burn as he slowly pushes into you. Your nails drag down his back, a satisfying purr slipping past Mark’s lips and he shushes you.

“It’s okay, its okay.” He coos. “It’s gonna feel better in a minute, yeah?”

A hand slips down between you, fingers gently circling your clit, the sensation makes your body thrum and Mark groans, face pressed into the curve of your neck when he hears the lewd way your pussy squelches around him.

“You’re so… Tight… Fuck, shit—” Mark swallows, “—I need to pull out.”

His chest heaves, and he lifts himself just a bit, hands shifting to your hips and your brows bunch.

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now...” He swallows hard, chest heaving and a sharp breath leaves his nose. “…s’too much. I’m gonna come.”

He looks down at where your pussy swallows him, plush and glossy lips busted open, slick trickling down the sides of him and he swallows, expression damn near pained and he lets out a whine.

“I don’t wanna.”

Mark leans forward, sweaty torso pressed against you, his face buried in your neck and you whine when he pushes deeper into you, mushroom-y tip pressing sloppy French kisses against your cervix, your fingers sinking into the hair at his nape and Mark whimpers when he feels the way you clamp down on him. Precum smearing against your slick walls with each shallow thrust of his hips, desperate humping as he whines into your neck, needy and his arms wrap around you, fisting the fabric of the shirt you have yet to take off.

He doesn’t mind it.

It’s his shirt.

“Don’t pull out.” Your lips brush against his ear, and Mark swallows hard. His heart beating against his ribcage, body prickling with nerves and he nods his head.

“Okay.” He breathes out.

Mark sits up, watching the way your thighs are strewn lazily across his, his cock buried deep enough that he can make out the little bulge just below your navel and he pulls out slowly. Watching as each inch of his cock emerges coated in a gloss that reflects the light that creeps through your curtains, before pushing back in.

Your body keens, nearly instinctively curling into yourself and he brings his hand back down, his thumb pressing tight circles on your clit and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms and your head tips back, your throat bobbing.

“Fuck, right there.” You pant out.

Mark’s slowly picking up speed, gentle thrusts that push him closer to the edge and when your body spasms, belly dipping inward and your knees pull themselves to your chest, he knows he’s a fucking goner.

Mark’s hands bracket the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest and he pushes into you, feeling the way your pussy clenches and Mark comes.

And God, he pulls you out of your reverie with the pornographic moan he lets out. Plump, pink lips parting, brows scrunching into a twitching frown, eyes squeezed shut and his hips keep moving. You feel the way his cum paints your insides, pearlescent droplets slipping out of you and pooling beneath you. His thumbs press into the fat of your thighs, pushing your legs just a bit further apart and he fucks into you deeper, faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good—” Mark gasps, peering down at you with hazy eyes and blown out pupils.

“Play,” he pants, head lolling and tipping back, moonlight dancing on the crown of his head, “play with it while I fuck you.”

Mark has your brain turning into mush, your fingers moving to lazily swipe over your clit, dainty fingers swirling over the bud and Mark watches the way your toes curl, pussy squelching and gushing around him as you come. Your legs shaking, your heart beating so much louder than he’s ever heard it before and you’re whining. Squealing, nails dragging at his forearms and leaving streaks behind in the flesh.

When your hand falls away, Mark simply takes over.

A true friend, pinching your clit between calloused fingertips, rolling it until you’re swatting at his hands, the overstimulated bud swollen and he groans when he feels you push at his belly.

“N-no….” You whine. “S’too much…”

“Move your hand.” Mark huffs, before he pins your hands above your head, leaning forward and you gasp when his hips grind against yours, his face pressing into the curve of your neck. He sucks marks into the flesh, sweet hickeys and his hips meet yours in a messy cacophony of plap! plap! plap!

“It’s too much…” You pant out.

“But you look so pretty, though.” He coos. “You can take it, can’t you?”

Mark kisses away the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks as you nod weakly, your chest heaving and glossy lips parting.

“You wanna switch positions so you can cry in peace?” Mark whispers and you nod.

“Mhm.”

You’re flipped onto your belly effortlessly, a pillow stuffed beneath your hips, and Mark slowly pushes into you. Your back’s arched so deeply, your face pressed into your pillow and your hair’s a bit of a mess as Mark gently tugs the T-shirt from your body.

“Shit, ‘s big.”

And Mark grins.

“I’m big, huh?” He taunts you, hand moving along the curve of your spine and he feels the way you clench down on him.

“Yeah, your fat head’s big.”

And Mark sighs. “Not fucked out enough to compliment me?”

You shoulders shake as you snort with laughter, lifting yourself just enough to peek at him over your sweat-slicked shoulder.

“Not even close.” You lie and he hums, his hands moving to palm the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading the fat and he watches your furled hole clench as a thick wad of saliva travels down the cleft of your ass.

“Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck the niceness into yo—”

“Want a break from the ads?”

Marks expression falls, his attention moving towards the illuminated screen of your phone, bright green on display and he swallows hard.

“How fucking cheap— Just get premium!”

“Premium’s expensive!”

“I’m not even kidding right now, I’ll give you my actual bank account if you get premium.”

“I’m not getting premium. That’s like, the ultimate final boss of consumerism.”

Mark groans loudly when the ad finishes, and he lets out a breath. Before he waits, impatiently tapping at the base of your spine, eyes narrowing at the back of your head the longer it takes. And then, something plays.

“What shit is this?”

“No, no, leave it. I like this.” You swat his hand away, your head moving to the stupidly catchy tune and Mark shuts his eyes.

“I’m actually gonna choke you out. What is this?”

“It’s ‘Year of the Ca—’ mmph! ”

You’re interrupted when Mark pushes your face into your pillow, hands gripping the fat of your hips and he shifts closer, cock churning your insides with each thrust he gives, cum leaking down your inner thighs and he groans. The lewd squelch of your cunt nearly drowns out the soft voice of Al Stewart, but not enough. Mark’s brows are furrowing, swallowing hard as he feels another coil begin to form is belly. Aggressive and fiery, Mark’s snapping hips have the fat of your ass recoiling of the sharp angles of his hips, one hand moving to grasp the back of your neck while the other clutches at your headboard.

His hips are unforgiving, brutal thrusts that has your walls spasming, nails clawing at the sheets of your bed, your back arching and you’re pushing back against Mark, ass flush against his hips and you’re letting out weak, muffled whines into your pillow. Drool, and tears mix and you raise your head, looking over your shoulder at Mark.

“Mark…” You complain, your body breaking in a cold sweat when he pulls out of you, leaving your drooling pussy to clench around. And your expression falls when you watch the way he picks up your phone, swiping through the various musical options.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You hiccup.

“I cannot fuck to this. I’m so sorry, it’s just—”

“Markus!”

“Fine!”

Mark’s shoving his cock back into you, the warmth is inviting and that fucking stretch has you gasping, eyes rolling back in your head and you whimper.

You don’t know how long you’re gonna last with his hips thwacking into you like you owe him money.

You probably do, but you have no intention of paying him back.

Your belly’s coiling, your toes are curling and your body’s threatening to go slack and Mark leans forward, pressing a kiss against your back.

“M’gonna come inside, yeah?”

“Uh-huh….” You nod weakly. And a pitchy sound rings out when you feel the way his cock pushes out thick, pearly ribbons that leave streaks across your gooey walls, and your body goes limp, his following and you’re grasping at your pillow. Letting out panted breaths and he kisses along your shoulders, warm and affectionate presses on his lips that have you sighing.

And his hips roll against yours. Slow and deep, and you’re whining weakly.

“It’s too—”

“You can give me one more.” His breath ghosts over your ear, arms wrapping around your midsection and he pulls you closer to him. He can feel your heart beating as erratically as his, your body warm and sweat, skin flushed. “I’ve heard you come 5 times, back to back. You can do it for me.”

And you whine, pressing your face into the sheets as his hips roll against yours, grinding into you and fucking his cum deeper.

“You wanna get on top?” Mark coos softly and he watches as you shift almost uncomfortably, raising your hand weakly and you flip him off.

And Mark hums, a snort of laughter slipping past his lips and he lets out a soft moan at the way your fleshy cunt squeezes him, before he pulls out of you, flipping you onto your back.

“You’re so pretty.” Mark coos, hands brushing along your hips and belly, sliding up to your chest and he ghosts his thumbs over your perky nipples, still oversensitive and he watches the way your body twitches.

Big doe eyes are tear-filled, your lashes fluttering and your lips are swollen. And Mark glances down to where your glossy pussy remains unattended and he sighs softly, biting his bottom lip as he pushes back into you, inch by inch. Watching the way your back arches off the bed.

“Can you put your legs on my shoulders?” Mark speaks softly, hands massaging along your thighs and his gaze flicks up to yours, and the way you’re staring at him makes him smile, dimples deepening in his cheeks.

He looks…

'Radiant', as zesty as it is, is the only word to describe him.

Muscled body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, droplets traveling down the delves of his muscles, broad chest heaving, a thin silver chain glittering in the faint light. His hair falls over his face, a few strands stuck to his forehead and his eyes. They’re glittering like ponds of honey, framed by dark lashes and his lips curl so deliciously into a grin.

“Right.”

He murmurs, before guiding your legs onto his shoulders, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips as he sighs when your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. He purrs when your fingers disappear into his hair, sweat-slicked strands moving between your fingers as his hips grind against yours.

That scratchy tuft of hair above his cock tickles at your clit, overstimulating the bud even more, his chest presses against yours and he keeps his eyes on yours.

“Why’re you —hah— looking so deep into my eyes?” Your voice is soft, and Mark lets a breathy giggle fan across your face, his hips pressing into yours, timing each of his thrusts with one of your perfect, rhythmic pulses that slowly speed up.

Your orgasm impending.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re as in love with me as I’m in love with you.”

Mark’s voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. His lashes fluttering as his lips keep ghosting over the apples of your cheeks, pressing sweet kisses to your rosy and flushed face.

And you swallow.

“I am.”

It’s the first time you’ve admitted it to anyone without there being a comedic undertone, without some… Discrete joke of self-loathing because Mark was looking in every direction except yours. And you swallow, your gaze focused on his.

“Really?” He whispers softly, a hand cradling the side of your face, and he’s drinking in every sensation you have to offer. And you weakly nod.

Only snorting when he presses his rosy face into the curve of your neck, his knees causing the bed to dimple and you feel the way his arms wrap around you, forcing your hips to angle a bit more upward.

And his hips rut.

Hard.

Mushroom-y tip pummelling against that spongy spot, your toes curling and your nails scratching at his back. You’re effectively folded in half, folded in a way that would have lawn chairs jealous because of how much space you’re saving but you can’t even think of that.

Not with the panted praises in your ear, the flurry of “you feel so good” and “fuck, you’re so pretty like this”s making your mind melt. Your body's pliable and weak, electricity pulsing just beneath your skin and your cunt’s oozing, wet shlick! shlick! shlick! sounds accompanying the sounds of his thighs slapping against the fat of your ass.

And you tuck your face in Mark’s neck, nails digging into his skin, biting down on the muscle of his shoulder as you stifle the scream that threatens to tear your throat as you come, gushing and soaking the tops of his thighs, his pelvis and tightly toned lower belly.

Mark wrings you dry. Fucking into you until you’re a weak, trembling faucet and he pulls out, looking down at the creamy mixture that trickles out of your gushing cunt.

And he swallows, panting just a bit.

“Are you okay?” Mark coos, his thumb tracing over your swollen clit, peeking out from between velvety folds and you nod weakly.

“Mhm…” You breathe out, your body prickles with goosebumps, your sheets soaked and you look like deflated sex doll.

“You wanna go again?”

And you stare at him incredulously.

“No.”

T🌹A🌹G🌹L🌹I🌹S🌹T

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