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storiesofsvu · 5 months ago

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Decadent Desires Ch 10

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol, semi public make out sessions, smut, threesome, fingering, oral, face sitting. Once y'all read this hopefully you'll see why it took 2 weeks to get done, a whopping almost 7k words. woof. im planning on starting the next chapter asap and focusing on this series as it is about to pick up and a shift is coming so that tends to keep my brain more into writing. Happy Friday! <3

After spending a handful of weeks exploring luxury hotels around the Washington area, Emily had sent you a text asking which one you liked the best. She had come to the conclusion that she wanted to put down a standing reservation at one location rather than continue to hop around across the city. You spent a bit of time reflecting on your experiences and finally replied with your favourite three, the Waldorf being at the utmost top. She couldn’t help but let out a laugh, one that was of slight relief as she had the exact opinions. It was just far enough away from her place to feel like a mini vacation, but still close enough to not be a hassle of a drive, the amenities were stellar, with the best food and late night menus. It didn’t hurt that it was the hotel the bureau usually held their big galas, meaning it would be more than easy enough to sneak away at any of those, or to simply have you waiting for her when she was done.

Overall, it just made things easier to have the standing reservation, you both had key cards and were graciously welcomed by concierge anytime throughout the week when you swung by. You were both able to come and go as you please instead of having to wait in the lobby or hotel bar for the other to arrive. While Emily was happy to leave things in the suite over the weekend, she was still a little bit apprehensive of leaving certain things when neither of you were there and her worries were solidified when you ran through a list of things that Heather would never leave in her suite. It may be permanently booked out, but it was a hotel, no matter how much the price tag was you never knew who else could have access. Like Emily had said earlier, a Benjamin could get you into a lot of places privately that you weren’t supposed to be in.

When the weekend finally rolled around, both of you were more than ready to indulge, barely able to keep your hands off each other Friday night, just when you thought one round was finally done it simply melted into another. Emily caught herself up in some work Saturday morning but chose to hand you a credit card and told you to go have some fun and you took the day to shop. She was rewarded that evening when you were getting ready, catching a glimpse of some very lacy lingerie before you slipped into your dress, scolding her in a teasing manner for spying.

You were sat at a semi secluded corner booth at the hotel lounge where you shared a mushroom and black truffle flatbread, scallops and a plate of oysters. Cocktails were easily flowing, with no concern of how many refills were had considering you were only planning on walking to the elevator. Not that you weren’t pacing yourselves, but there was more of a sense of letting loose this time. It was almost a celebratory evening, the bill you’d been busting your ass for, for Heather had successfully made it through two rounds of voting, and the BAU had finally caught their nationwide killer, finally leaving time for more hours at the home office.

“You know,” Emily began, her hand resting on your bare thigh, fingers tickling at your skin, “I really have to say thank you for getting Bailey off my back.”

“I take it the date went well?” You asked, leaning into her touch.

“I thought you would know?” She raised a brow and you laughed.

“I haven’t heard from the girl in three weeks.”

“Well it does certainly appear that things worked out in our favour.” She replied, leaning in close enough to steal a kiss.

“Good.” You murmured, pressing your lips to hers once more before leaning away to pick up your drink.

“Between that and catching our unsub I feel like my workload has been cut in half.” She sighed happily, sipping at her cocktail, “I don’t have to nitpick through every piece of paperwork and worry about having to redo it all after Bailey sees it. He’s actually leaving the office at clock out time and not hassling me on the weekends. It’s practically heaven.”

“Now if only you would leave the office at a reasonable time.” You teased and she laughed, a hand reaching up to play with the hair at the back of your neck, guiding you back toward her.

“That’s bold coming from someone who was still working past midnight three times this week.” Her lips brushed against yours as she spoke, yours curving up into a grin before you closed the gap and kissed her, lips moving with grace together.

“Late nights mean I get to go in late the next day.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, her face only inches from yours, “and how late is that?”

“Ten,” you laughed, “maybe noon if I’m lucky.”

“She works you too hard.” Emily commented with a slight frown before kissing you and you chuckled into the kiss.

“And you work yourself too hard.” Your hand found her leg, gently squeezing at her thigh, managing to get one last peck in before Emily huffed. The playful eyeroll pulled a laugh from you, she knew you were right, she couldn’t exactly clock you for something that she was way worse at.

“I guess you’ve got me there.” She replied with a small laugh and you squeezed at her leg again.

“I’m pretty sure the saying is ‘work hard, play hard’ so as long as you’re keeping a healthy balance.” You suggested with a smirk and she grinned across at you.

“It’s not like I keep you around for nothing.”

“Though, considering how much work you’ve been doing, maybe I need to up my end of the bargain.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, “and what exactly have you got in mind?”

Before you could figure out a full answer, the server swung by to offer another round of drinks. The two of you briefly glanced at each other before selecting a new cocktail off the menu to try. After all, this weekend really was about having some extra levels of fun.

There was a new sense of electricity in the air tonight, it was difficult to keep your hands off each other even out in the eye of the hotel lounge. Though the crowd was dwindling with each hour that passed and it wasn’t long before your server was making a round past the table, mentioning that it was last call, wondering if you wanted another round to take to your room with you or if you just wanted to settle up. The two of you immediately glanced around, realizing you were the last two people in the lounge before apologizing and saying you would settle, Emily making sure to add a more than generous tip.

Her hand caught yours as you stepped into the lobby, your fingers linking together as she let out an almost whiney sigh.

“What?” You asked, turning back to her with a laugh.

“I dunno, it just feels too early to turn in.” She replied with a frown and you glanced at your watch.

“It’s barely two…” you murmured before glancing up at her with a sparkle in your eye,” I know a few places that would still be open.”

“And still serving by the time we get there?” She asked with a small laugh.

“They let people in ‘til three, serve ‘til four thirty, even later on long weekends. Think of it as an…after hours club.”

“The kind of after hours club that promotes fraternizing?”

You chuckled softly, tugging Emily closer to you to steal a kiss, “stop thinking like a fucking fed, it’s nothing illegal. Just people socializing, having fun, making new friends, having some drinks, no drugs, scouts honour. Prestigious enough you need a membership to get in. We don’t have to go,” you shrugged, “I’m sure if we just go upstairs I can entertain you until you’re tired, you just seemed a little extra feisty tonight.”

“Speak for yourself.” She laughed back.

“So should I call a car?” You asked, your brow raised while you watched her think it over.

“Fuck it. It’s about time to have some fun and let loose.”

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned, pulling your phone from your purse to make the call.

Emily wasn’t surprised when a Dunbar car was out front of the hotel mere moments later and you spewed off a cross street to the driver who gave a knowing hum before peeling off down the street. Even in the back of the car it was nearly impossible to keep your hands off each other, your hand quickly finding her clothed thigh before hers was inching up your bare one, daring to sneak under the hem of your dress. She was certain the divider was going to have to be lifted but you were suddenly pulling into a strip mall parking lot.

“This it?” She asked, her brow furrowing.

“Best way to keep a secret, isn’t it?” You replied, a grin on your lips as you leant in to kiss the corner of her mouth, “don’t be freaked when they ID you, they’re just making sure everyone inside is safe. And if you see the President or his wife… no you didn’t.” You slunk out of the car after that, leaving Emily wide eyed before she quickly followed after you, thanking the driver before the door shut behind her.

Your hand found hers as you wandered up to the seemingly closed front door, rapping against it before it swung open and you were let inside. Just as you’d warned her, both of you had your ID’s scanned before you slid your membership card across the counter and the attendant welcomed you with a warm smile and the curtain concealing the next set of doors was opened.

It was darker than Emily had expected, coloured lights shining through the rooms, changing their patterns and pathways sporadically, not particularly strobes, but enough to keep the darkness a mystery. The walls were lined with semi circle booths, tables scattered throughout the open space with a large bar in the middle, it appeared there was a VIP area in a little loft area and she could see heavy strobe lights coming from down a short flight of stairs where the main dance floor was and a longer dark hallway that either led to staff areas or something she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about. The music was loud, bass strumming through the space, reminiscent of her days spent in various clubs around the world. She started to wonder if it was her age showing that was making her think it was entirely too loud or too many years of excessive headphone use coupled with field work damaging her ears when your hand darted out, reaching into a fishbowl on the end of the bar. Her heart leapt into her throat, for a second thinking that you’d either dumped your keys or picked up god knows what before you turned to her with a pack of earplugs between your fingers.

“They keep it abnormally loud in here.” You shouted over the music before leaning in so close your lips were brushing against her ear, “harder to eavesdrop on secrets when you’ve got to be this close.”

She laughed with a nod, opening the packet to put the earplugs in as you did the same, following you up to the bar. With the plugs in the heaviness of the bass was muffled, but she could still hear you clearly, hear herself think rather than be completely clouded by the noise. A couple of cocktails later and you were nestled into one of the smaller curved booths, Emily’s hand once again finding a home on your thigh, fingertips tickling at your skin.

Between the volume and it being her first time there, the first little bit at the club was spent doing the best people watching you could in low light and relaxing, embracing the vibe and the atmosphere. Every so often one of you would lean in to say something, earning a laugh from the other, a more private moment to steal a kiss or make a comment about someone eying their prospective date for the night. Cocktails were replenished without even having to ask, the perfect balance of fruity and strong, though you both knew those were the dangerous kind, you may not be tasting the alcohol tonight, but you’d likely be feeling it tomorrow. But in the moment, it didn’t matter, you were simply enjoying the different environment, feeling frisky and not having to worry at all about watching eyes. Emily felt more free relaxed and uninhibited that she had in years and she was fully enjoying it.

“How did you find out about this place?” She asked, her head ducked toward yours.

“Heather.” You took a sip of your drink, “and before you ask, it’s about a sixty-forty split business-pleasure for her depending on the day. I don’t come too often, it’s not really my style, plus some of the governor’s aides really don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. Doesn’t matter if you were actually talking deals, the next time they see you in the hallway it’s all smarmy grins and waggly eyebrows as if you’d taken them into the back room or something.”

“For a place with so many politicians I’m surprised you haven’t seen anyone tonight.” Emily mused and you laughed.

“Em, please, I’ve clocked at least eight people I know between the door and the bar. But since it’s just all about discretion, no one will approach unless they’re interested,” your finger tapped the bottom of her chin, your breath hot on her lips when you spoke next, “especially when I came in with someone.”

Your lips hit Emily’s with ease and she let herself relax into the kiss, her tongue easily sinking into your mouth, the sweetness of your cocktails swirling around your mouth. You shifted on your seat, a hand sliding up the side of her neck to tangle into her hair and the hand she had on your thigh slipped under the hem of your dress. You let out a soft moan into the kiss, your leg nearly draping over Emily’s knee as her hand slunk higher, finger tips daring to trace patterns on your bare skin and you retaliated by nipping at her lower lip.

“Certainly are feeling frisky tonight, aren’t you?” You asked with a tease and she playfully rolled her eyes at you before leaving a kiss on the side of your neck.

Your hand remained at the back of her head, tickling at her neck, gently playing with her hair while you fell back into the mix of small talk and observing the club. The next time you got your cocktails refilled, the server dropped them off along with two shots of top shelf tequila and a folded cocktail napkin with a pain tucked into it. Emily raised her brow in their direction, watching as your eyes flicked from the napkin out into the bar, surveying the room.

“Let me guess…” you asked, your elbow resting on the table, your chin propped in your hand, “brunette at the end of the bar?”

The server nodded with a small laugh, swiping the empty cocktail glasses from the table and wandering back through the room. Your free hand was still toying with Emily’s hair as she leant in,

“Jackie, right?”

“Mmmhmm.” You replied, turning to her to brush your lips against hers, “looks like we caught someone’s eye.” You slid the tequila shot toward her, “you ever had a threesome?”

“Not in about thirty years.” She chuckled, watching the way your head tilted, the sparkle in your eye as you picked up your tequila shot.

“Intrigued?” You asked, watching as Emily’s eyes finally left yours, looking across the club to Jackie. Her gaze flicked up and down the other woman’s body, taking in the smirk of her lips over the rim of her martini glass, a similar shot of tequila waiting in font of her. She turned back to you, a small grin breaking out on her own lips,

“Very.”

“Thought you might be.”

Looking over toward the bar you raised your shot glass, Emily doing the same beside you and you nearly laughed at the excitement that flashed over Jackie’s face as she raised her own before all three of you shot the liquor back. Glassware slid to the edge of the table you picked up the pen, scrawling your hotel name and room number across the inside of the napkin, folding it and placing it beside the empty shots before grabbing your phone. A moment later the server was back, collecting all of the items and bidding you a goodnight.

“Don’t we have to pay?” Emily asked and you laughed softly, pinching at her chin to steal a kiss.

“It’s charged to the membership card and there’s an auto grat, don’t worry. Now c’mon.”

Introductions were made, flirty small talk was had as hefty glasses of bubbly were handed out, the three of you all surveying the vibes in the room as you got more comfortable with each other. You didn’t shy away from physical contact, your hand lingering on the small of Emily’s back when she moved passed you first, then your fingers loosely wrapping around Jackie’s wrist as you complimented a bracelet. You were the invisible string between the two of them, the one making sure everyone was comfortable and understood the situation and dynamics that were to come with it.

Jackie watched out of the corner of her eye as you murmured something to Emily, your finger curling under her chin before you kissed her. Rather that intruding on the moment she redirected her gaze out the large window over looking the city, the Washington Monument alit in the night sky.

“It’s quite a view you’ve got up here.” She commented, pulling a soft laugh from Emily.

“What can I say?” She replied, smoothing back a piece of your hair as Jackie turned back to face you, “pretty girls deserve to look at pretty things.”

“They certainly do.” The dark haired woman smiled, closing the distance between the three of you as she moved through the room. “You know, I am curious…what is the dynamic between the two of you?” She glanced to Emily, “because you simply exude power and control, but this one..” Her finger tilted towards you, “has been known to put up a fight occasionally.”

Emily laughed, her hand sliding across your lower back, “luckily that’s not something I’ve had to worry about.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek that you leant into before raising an eyebrow at Jackie.

“Funny it should matter to you at all considering it’s a known fact you’re a bit of a pillow princess.”

Jackie’s lips twitched up into a grin as Emily hummed beside you, “huh… just here to get fucked, are you?”

“Oh I’m sure she’ll participate.” You replied, glancing toward Emily before stepping closer to the other woman, “she likes to earn her fucking, isn’t that right?” Your finger tapped Jackie’s nose, “looking all pretty down on your knees, just absolutely begging for it.”

A slight flush took over her cheeks as her eyes darkened, “so you have been listening.”

Emily’s hand slid up your back, fingers almost tangling into the roots of your hair as she stepped ahead of you, her free hand raising to tap Jackie’s chin, “don’t worry, you’ll both get what you deserve. But right now I do think there’s a little bit too much clothing involved, head to the bed and get things started.”

A small nod from both of you before Jackie’s hand was tangled with yours and you were tugging her toward the bed. Her hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you to her for a kiss, lips moving frantically against yours as you backed the rest of the way to the bed. She whined into the kiss when you nipped at her lip before sliding your tongue into her mouth and the whine drowned into a moan. Your hands slid around her shoulders, pushing down the straps of her dress, fingers finding the zipper on the back and tugging it down. The fabric loosely fell around her shoulders, the desire to keep her hands on you too strong to let it fall to the floor quite yet.

Jackie’s hands gripped at your waist, backing you the final couple of steps before your knees hit the bed and they began to wander your body. She eagerly groped at your chest, lips curving up into a grin at the soft moan you let out into the kiss. Her fingers pinched at your nipples through your dress, continuing to toy with you as your hands grabbed her hips, rolling your own against her. Satisfied that your moans had began to morph into whines one of Jackie’s hands wrapped around you, quickly pulling down the zipper of your dress and shoving it down your body. She pulled away from the kiss just far enough for her eyes to flick down, a smirk taking over her lips.

“I just knew you’d be the type to dress up for the occasion.” She murmured, her fingers toying with the lace, “such a pretty set.”

“Guarantee you it looks better on the floor.” You husked back, arms reaching behind you to undo the bra, letting it fall to the ground as you stepped out of your dress and dropped back onto the bed.

You heard Emily huff out a laugh from the corner of the suite but your eyes were on Jackie as she shimmied out of her dress and crawled over you on the bed, your head dropping back into the pillows a moment later when her mouth wrapped around your nipple. Your own hands wandered her body, pinching at her nipples, toying with the waistband of her barely there panties while she continued to suck, bite and pinch at your chest. She moaned against your skin when you palmed at her cunt, her hips grinding down into the touch, just barely starting to rock in a rhythm against your hand.

“Certainly are eager… aren’t we?” Emily’s voice broke into your thoughts and your eyes flickered open, your breath catching in your throat when you realized she was at the base of the bed, stripped down except for the strap. Your hand tangled into Jackie’s hair, pulling her off you, breathlessly stealing a kiss as you sat up and nudged her toward the end of the bed.

“I think it’s time for you to prove what a good girl you are and get on your knees for Emily.”

“That’s it angel…” Emily purred as Jackie crawled off the bed, “get my cock nice and wet.”

“Yes ma’am.” The brunette murmured, settling on her knees in front of the other woman.

She parted her lips, her tongue licking Emily from base to tip before wrapping around the silicone and sinking down inch by inch until she was completely buried in her mouth. Jackie began a steady pace, bobbing on Emily’s cock and the older woman’s hand gently wrapped into her hair.

“Good girl.”

Jackie hummed around her cock, the tip hitting the back of her throat as she gagged, saliva pooling in her mouth as she continued. Emily’s hips rocked toward her, sinking her cock deeper into her mouth as her eyes flicked up to you.

“If you’re just going to take in the show you should probably play with that pretty little pussy.”

Your cheeks heated, a blush shooting through you as if you had just been caught staring at something you weren’t allowed to see and you eagerly nodded at Emily. Adjusting on the bed so you were resting against the headboard you yanked your panties down your legs to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Emily’s fingers tightened in Jackie’s hair, pulling her off her cock with a gasp and turning her head toward the bed,

“She’s got such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” She asked and Jackie nodded.

“Oh, fuck yes…”

“Spread your legs princess, let her see that gorgeous cunt.”

You did as asked, your legs spread wide as your hand slunk down your body, settling between your legs where two of your fingers spread your pussy lips apart for the two of them to get a better view. Jackie let out a needy squeak, sitting further up on her knees so she could rub her thighs together and Emily didn’t let the motion go unnoticed.

“You’re allowed to touch yourself.” She cooed, dropping her hair so she could caress her cheek, pinching at her chin to redirect Jackie’s eyes back to hers, “get yourself nice and messy while you suck my cock.”

Emily’s eyes were immediately redirected back to you as you let out a low moan, two fingers sinking into your cunt as you began to lazily finger yourself. A moment later and she felt the base of the toy brush against her clit and she let out a breathy sigh, Jackie’s lips wrapped around her length yet again. The pace Jackie sucked her off matched the rhythm she was bouncing on her own fingers, with more urgency than you were fucking yourself, eager to both prove herself and get as close to her peak as she could. She began to moan around Emily, muffled and needy, drool beginning to pool in the corners of her mouth, droplets dripping down her chin while the sounds of your wetness echoed through the room. Emily groaned at the sights, her hand tugging Jackie’s hair again and the woman let the toy drop from her mouth with a gasp.

“Good girl.” Emily praised, gesturing for her to stand. As she did, Emily’s hand closed around her wrist, pulling the fingers slicked with juices to her mouth and Jackie watched with wide eyes as Emily sucked them clean. “So sweet.” She spanked at her hip, “up on the bed, you’ve earned a reward.”

Climbing onto the bed, Jackie grinned, her hands soothing up your legs, spreading them even further apart, watching the way you fingered yourself.

“Such a gorgeous cunt.” She murmured, ducking down to nip at your inner leg and you chuckled, sliding your fingers out as you shifted on the bed.

“Pretty sure you already proved yourself babe.” Pinching at her chin you pulled her to you for a kiss before glancing over her shoulder at Emily who tilted her head at you.

“C’mere.” Once you were at the foot of the bed she grasped your hips, pinching gently, nodding towards Jackie, “take care of her, but you don’t get to come yet.”

“Of course.” You nodded, smiling sweetly and she chuckled.

“Then flip over.”

It wasn’t a command as much as a warning as Emily was the one who flipped you over onto your stomach, landing with a soft oof as you adjusted yourself, legs dangling off the bed, feet braced on the floor. Smiling, Jackie crawled back closer to you, fingertips drawing patterns across your back,

“Bet you just make the prettiest sounds while you’re getting fucked, don’t you?”

Emily took the cue, the head of her spit slicked cock nudging at your entrance and you let out a whine, pulling a teasing laugh from both of the other women. In one heavy thrust, Emily’s cock was buried in your pussy and you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut until her hand spanked the curve of your ass.

“Go ahead, get her off. You’re just keeping me warm.”

With the tiniest of grumbles, your hands scrambled for Jackie’s hips, yanking her toward you and she was quick to flip onto her back, sliding half underneath you with widespread legs so her pussy was perfectly aligned with your mouth. Emily’s hands on your hips squeezed, nudging you even closer to her and the movement shifted her cock inside you, your pussy fluttering around the toy, clouding your brain just in the slightest.

Doing your best to focus your hands trailed up Jackie’s thighs, thumbs pressing against her pussy as they ran up it, spreading her lips open for you before briefly rubbing over her clit and her head fell back onto the mattress. Your tongue then followed the path your thumbs had just made, swiping through her cunt slowly, lapping up the juices already dribbling out, a small groan leaving your lips at her taste. The tip of your tongue flicked against her throbbing clit and she gasped.

“Oh fuck!” One of Jackie’s hands shot to your head, tangling into your hair as her hips began to grind against your mouth.

Your lips wrapped around her lower ones, moaning and groaning into her pussy, vibrations shooting through her, bringing her pleasure pulsing more south with each move of your mouth. Your tongue dipped into her, swirling the best you could before licking through her again, pressing harder and moving faster with each pass of your tongue.

“More…” she whined, her nails scratching at your scalp and your mouth moved up, sucking her clit into your mouth. “Fuck! Yes! Right there.”

As your lips wrapped around her throbbing nub, your tongue danced patterns across it with varying speed and pressure. Jackie’s noises became louder with each lick, her lip tugged into her mouth to help muffle the sounds. Behind you, Emily, proud of the work you were putting in slowly circled her hips, causing the toy buried inside you to move just enough to get you moaning against Jackie’s clit, pulling even more noise from the dark haired woman. Just as she was about to start begging for more, two of your fingers pressed into her opening, rubbing softly, just enough to be more than a tease and give her what she wanted.

“Oh my god…” she sighed, hips rocking down to the touch.

“That feel good sweetheart?” Emily asked her, leaning over you just enough to pinch at Jackie’s thigh, “you like it when she eats your cunt?”

“Fuck yes.” She moaned in response.

Your fingers slid in and she gasped, her back arching off the bed as your tongue pressed harder against her clit and you began to fuck her. Your fingers twirled, twisted and scissoring around in her cunt, stretching her out, teasing her just enough to have her a whining mess against the bed before your hand began to pump back and fourth. You crooked your fingers just enough and she swore, a near cry leaving her throat.

“Fuck! Right there.”

You pressed against the spot again and her thighs trembled around you and you knew she was close. A heavy groan from you muffled against her cunt as Emily circled her hips again, her cock dragging against your walls as she pinched at your hips. Your mouth popped off her with a gasp of breath as you thrust your fingers into her faster, curling with each pump and your free hand rubbed her clit.

“I know you’re close sweetheart.” You pressed down on her clit harder, “come for me.”

Ducking your mouth back down you replaced your hand with it, sucking her clit hard into your mouth as your fingers pushed into the sensitive spot in her drenched cunt. A few more pumps of your hand and Jackie was crying out, her back arching off the bed as her body tensed, orgasm rocking through her. You let up with your mouth, leaving a gentle kiss just above her clit as your fingers slowed.

“So good for us.” You purred, kissing across her thighs, “so pretty when you come.”

Your fingers slipped from her and you crawled back onto the bed, letting out a low whine when Emily’s cock slipped from your cunt. You trailed kisses up Jackie’s body while she caught her breath, finally landing with one on her lips.

“Holy fuck.” She muttered, still panting.

“Such a good girl.” You cooed, leaning down to nip at her neck, “now… are you finished or do you think you can go for on more?”

“More.” She pouted a whine leaving her lips and you chuckled.

“Yeah?” Sitting up you glanced over your shoulder to where Emily was slowly rubbing up and down the toy, “you want her cock?”

“Mmhmm.” Jackie scrambled to her knees, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Want Emily to fill up that tasty fucking pussy of yours?”

“Fuck. Please.” She looked between the two of you, eyes darting down to Emily’s cock coated in your juices, “please oh god, I need it.”

Emily chuckled, crooking two fingers at the other woman, “you can have it. But you don’t get to come until you’ve made her come, understood?”

“Yes.” Jackie practically pounced down to the end of the bed, sprawling out on her back and spreading her legs wide for Emily, her pussy still dripping with wetness.

You watched as Emily slid the tip of the toy through her folds, smearing her wetness with your remaining juices, teasing her just enough so that Jackie was out of breath again.

“Well?” she glanced from her cock up to Jackie’s face and over to you and the other woman’s hands scrambled to your waist, tugging you to her as Emily yanked her to the edge of the bed and sunk her cock into her.

Jackie let out a low moan, nearly forgetting the task at hand at the sensation of being full and stretched before her head rolled towards you, “sit on my face.”

You didn’t waste any time, quickly straddling her head and a second later her hands were clawing at your waist, tugging you right down onto her face, her tongue lapping at your pussy. Behind you, Emily set a steady pace, her hips thrusting into Jackie with precision and skill, watching at the way you started to grind down onto her face. As much as you had wanted to watch Jackie come undone on the other woman’s cock you were utterly lost in your own world as she started to eat you out, your pussy throbbing around nothing as pleasure began to shoot through you.

“Oh my god…” you groaned, your head falling back as you hands began to wander you own body, aching for something to latch onto as Jackie’s lips wrapped around your clit. “Fuck!”

Each time Emily circled her hips, or began to toy with the other woman’s clit, Jackie’s moans got louder and longer, vibrating right into your cunt. Her nose would brush against your clit, rubbing at it as her tongue explored as much of your dripping pussy as she could. Your hands pinched at your nipples, rolling them between your fingers as you rode her face, matching the pace that Emily was fucking her. Jackie’s tongue flicked at your clit again and you gasped.

“Fuck.”

“That’s it.” Emily husked from behind you, thrusting harder into her, “she likes that, keep going.”

Jackie’s mouth latched around your clit and you shuddered, your thighs trembling around her head and you could almost feel her lips curving up into a smirk. Her hand snuck between your legs, sinking two fingers into you, curling immediately and you moaned, this one louder than the last.

“Keep that up and you’ll make her come.” Emily urged, and Jackie didn’t waste a single second.

Her tongue pressed harder, dancing its patterns faster as her hand began to move quicker, her free hand gripped your waist so tight you knew there would be marks tomorrow. She pulled you down so tight onto her face if you’d been thinking straight you would have been worried about suffocating her but all you could think about was the way your pussy was clenching around her fingers, how her hot mouth felt on your cunt and the noises of Emily fucking her harder and faster with each time you ground down onto her face.

“Oh my god…oh my god…” you weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to stay upright, your hips jolting as pleasure soared through your body. Your hands scrambled to catch yourself on the mattress, clawing at the bedspread as Jackie continued to hold you down, her fingers fucking into you faster as what you thought was your oncoming orgasm suddenly resurged up again, building even higher and hotter under your skin until she sucked on your clit again and you cried out, thighs shaking around her head.

Your entire body shuddering you were finally able to break free from her grasp, collapsing down onto the bed beside her with your chest heaving as she panted, a sly grin on her lips as she was more than satisfied with her work.

“That’s it sweet girl.” Emily praised, her hands soothing up Jackie’s thighs as the other woman was able to fully focus on her pleasure.

“Fuck…harder… please.”

Emily’s hips rocked forward, a particularly sharp thrust that had Jackie gasping for air and you chuckled softly, rolling onto your stomach to cage her into the bed. Your lips caught hers, tongue dipping into her mouth to suck your own juices off her tongue, swallowing down each others moans. Giving her a chance to breathe, your mouth made its way down her neck, sucking and biting into the crook of it while she let out more noises.

“God,” Emily groaned, “you look so fucking good taking my cock. Such a pretty girl.”

Jackie could do nothing but whine in response, her senses on fire at the multiple touches against her skin. Your free hand quickly sunk between her legs, beginning to play with her clit in the same speed Emily was fucking her, alternating between pressing hard or rubbing softly.

“Can feel you trembling baby.” You murmured into her neck before biting down hard and she groaned, her hips launching up off the bed. “You gonna come for us? Let us see how fucking hot you look?”

“Fuck.” She muttered, “s-close.”

“Mmhmm.” Your tongue swiped at the already darkening mark on her skin before sucking at it again and she whimpered.

Emily’s hand was suddenly on top of yours, pressing down even harder against Jackie’s clit, urging you to rub faster and she circled her hips again. The small circle along with the combined pressure of both of your hands was all it took for Jackie to be crying out, her body shaking as it jolted off the bed and she hit her peak. Your hand softly trailed up her body as you gently kissed across her skin, finger tips drawing patterns while she panted.

“That’s it…” you cooed, “so good for us.”

“Such a pretty girl.” Emily murmured, her hips slowing and she fully sunk into Jackie one last time, holding there for a moment, “takes it so well even from two at once.”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, placing a gentle kiss on her collarbone, “kinda gives me ideas.”

“Really?” Jackie asked breathlessly, her eyes cracking open, a small smirk on her lips.

“Ones I just know you’d like.” You teased, leaning over her with a grin and when Emily pulled out you capture her lips in a kiss, muffling the whine.

Emily disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, no doubt cleaning off the toy leaving it to dry and freshening up, coming back a few moments later wrapped in a fuzzy robe. Opening the mini fridge she picked out a few bottles of water, passing them over to you to take a few sips.

“Christ…” Jackie muttered with a small laugh, “that was not how I expected my night to end.”

“Not expected maybe, but it was what you were hoping for.” You laughed back.

“I told myself I would stay for one drink, just happened to be a lucky one.” She retorted, “I was there for business. Speaking of,” lifting her wrist to check her watch she let out a sigh, pushing up to sitting, “I’ve got an early meeting, I need to get going.” Slipping off the bed, she quickly redressed herself, scooping up her purse before leaning over the bed, leaving a kiss on your lips, “I’ll see you.”

“Mmhm.”

Crossing to Emily she left a kiss on her cheek, “thanks. Here’s hoping to running into you again.”

“Only time will tell.” She smirked, watching as the other woman vanished from the hotel room.

You let out a sigh, finally sitting up from the bed, groaning as you stretched out your body before disappearing into the bathroom. In the short time it took you to freshen up, remove your make up and brush your teeth Emily had ridden herself of the robe, opting to slip under the sheets naked instead. She was about to pick up the remote when you spoke,

“You know… something doesn’t totally feel fair.” You stated as you climbed back into the bed.

“What? That she just gets to leave?”

“No.” You laughed and she caught the devilish gleam in your eye, “you didn’t get come…”

Your hands were on her hips before she even realized it, letting out a quiet shriek as you flipped her onto her back with a wicked grin on your lips. Though there was no time to even think about protesting, your mouth and hands were on her before she could even think, eagerly and very energetically repaying her for all of the pleasure she’d given out that night.

____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @just-moondust @ms-downhill @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @doragoy

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss series #criminal minds fanfic #jackie sharp #emily prentiss x reader x jackie sharp #house of cards x criminal minds

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syoddeye · 9 months ago

Text

the dinner

ceo!price x reader / ~4.4k words

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4 Very special thank you to @sleepyeugene @greatstormcat and @mortuarywriting for beta-ing ♥️ Tagging: @sweetspicynoodles

CW: alcohol, oral sex

Straw. Actual straw. Collected, cut, snipped, and arranged by careful hands to ring a porcelain plate to resemble a bird's nest. A piece pokes the chicken egg in the center, and a thin drizzle of black truffle sluices from the puncture and soaks into the dry, flat bed of mushrooms.

You would do unspeakable things for a lamb samosa.

The drinks are delicious, though the service, along with everything else, proves an adjustment. Two sips into a kir, savoring, the waiter clears the glasses, moving you into the second dish without a word. Each course you pick through transitions the same: with a person clad in a fancy little vest ferrying away three-quarter full glasses and disassembled plates you ruined in search of flavor.

Baffling. Pompous. Wasteful.

Your work anniversary dinner. Your date with John Price.

Across the table, he dines in his own world. He methodically pierces the egg on his nest-plate-thing, peppery black truffle oozing more neatly than your own onto the mushrooms. He prepares a bite, and you trail it to his mouth. His eyes close briefly, and your lip twitches.

Holding back a sigh, you mirror him as you have the whole dinner, a plebeian to his patrician.

The conversation lulled when a former business associate of John's, wife in tow, briefly stopped at the table. You don't remember either of their names, only that their intrusion was the killing blow. Although introduced, the conversation remained limited to the three. By the time they departed for their table, the plates had changed.

John did not help the silence, seemingly content with it. While generous in material ways, the Moynat proof of that, he was stingy when it came to speaking about himself. He masterfully keeps the focus on you, with a special interest in your time at The 141 Group.

But as you reluctantly dominated the earlier conversation, you were not keen to restart it. You let the quiet continue to hold you hostage.

The server takes the remains of the cheese course, the most palatable and normal by far, and he finally speaks.

"Not a fan of French food?"

Your eyes flick up from the napkin in your lap. Unfazed, the server arranges another clean set of flatware. John's elbows rest on the table, poor etiquette for a man of his station, leaning forward until his breath makes the candle flame flicker. He doesn't move to make the server's job easier, forcing them to work around him.

You glance to the waiter, mildly comforted they seem unperturbed, then return to John's question. "I don't mind it."

"You hardly ate."

"I don't think my palate is refined enough for this," You carefully explain. This is a free dinner. This is the head of your company. You're neither impolite nor stupid to accidentally insult the man's taste.

"I doubt your tongue's the problem," He smirks, then lowers an arm to the table and extends a hand, palm up, expectant. Grins when you take it, thumb dragging over the skin. "I'll let you pick dessert."

The profiterole is an olive branch. A delicious one, vanilla cream and chocolate exploding over your taste buds, erasing the earthiness and grit of the earlier courses. Fingers pinching the dessert's accompanying demitasse, you find John studying you. His choux untouched.

"Not a fan of sweets?" You ask, echoing him.

"Not particularly," He pushes the saucer around the candlestick.

You take the pastry. With so much food wasted already, it'd be a shame to let the taste of paradise slip past.

The server never returns to the table. The meal ends when John informs you the car is waiting out front, and he herds you to the coat check with his hand on the small of your back. He helps you into your wool coat, murmuring, "Pity it's cold out."

You know what he means. It took hours and a FaceTime call with Jordan to pick a dress. Your friend wasn't so much of a consultant as she was a soundboard, reassuring you looked good over and over again.

"He said he liked the green," you explained.

"Told you, big sexy pine tree," Jordan teased, voice crackling through the phone speaker.

You wore the dark emerald dress to a wedding years ago with good results. It's formal enough the maître d' didn't stop you at the door, yet simple enough in its construction that you don't feel like a peacock or a tryhard. The silky material clung comfortably to your frame but wasn't too snug and fell to your mid-calf. The slit that cut a generous distance to your thigh invited John's eyes when you slid into the car upon pick-up, followed by his hand. The dress dipped beneath your scapulae in the back, the scoop neckline traveled straight across your cleavage, and the thin straps exposed your shoulders. You feel sexy, and you know you look it, too.

The coat's lining is cool on your skin, contrasting with the heat of John's breath on the back of your neck. Your things back in your possession, he steers you to the exit.

John pulls Alex aside when you duck into the car, and the bodyguard glances over his employer's shoulder. His attention returns within the second, but a smile forms under his neatly trimmed mustache.

With that furtive look, it occurs to you you don't know what's next on the agenda. Given the lack of edible food and stilted conversation, you'd prefer to head home and tuck into the samosas you've dreamt of all evening. Bid adieu to this alternate universe where you kind of date CEOs and own expensive purses. Yet, from your limited experience with John, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's as if he reads your mind.

"Night's young. Thought we might have a drink, if I haven't completely mucked this up."

You frown. "You haven't," It's unfair he gets to self-deprecate, and your immediate inclination is to comfort and dissuade him. Knowing the man could buy your building with pocket change grates against the simmering frustration in your chest. You want to go home and ditch the date, as you have others, but instead, you are agreeable. "I could use a drink."

If he registers a hint of your inner turmoil, he does not show it. The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. "Good. Somewhere we need to stop first."

He looks out the window and settles a hand above your knee again. You should break the habit, even if his palm is warm and the gesture scratches an itch you don't want to acknowledge.

You observe him in the periphery. Since this situation began in the copier room, you look up John Price online every few days. He's constantly in the news, whether by mention or for a quote. Each story uses one of three photos, all from the same batch of headshots. Interestingly, he seems to avoid video interviews, though there are three or four soundbites where he's been invited to chime in by a network.

His Wikipedia page contains more information on The 141 Group than his personal life. The section itself is a measly three sentences covering his birthplace, heritage, and when he founded the company. And although you knew it was a long shot, you searched high and low across every social media platform you could think of, reactivated your Facebook, and everything. Nothing. His control over his public image seems as ironclad as his control over the company. You count yourself lucky his command extends only to work. If you wanted to exit the car at the next traffic light, you're sure he'd let you out and wish you a good night.

An idle flex of his fingers on your leg, as if he really is a mind reader, extinguishes the thought.

Neon light punctures the tinted windows of the car. Your head swivels, and you scrunch your nose in recognition. John's brought you to a popular row of nightclubs, and fuzzy memories surge to the forefront of your mind. The taste of cheap tequila on your tongue and playing drunken therapy in crowded bathrooms. It's beyond you why John needs to stop here, but you're not opening that can of worms.

John reaches for the door handle, and your arm shoots out without thinking, curling over his forearm.

"John, wait."

He stops immediately. "Something wrong?"

"Can I stay in the car?" You ask, eyes moving past his furrowed brow to the few clubgoers outside. "I'd prefer to stay here."

John's face slackens, and then he turns away, his shoulders heaving with a short laugh. He shakes his head and pats your thigh. "Alright, but I'll need your order."

Confusion finds its home on your face this time until John gestures with a thumb over his shoulder out the car's rear window. A bright red food truck sits behind the private car, warm light spilling onto the sidewalk. You watch a woman claim a paper tray cradling a doner kebab. The sight sinks claws into your belly.

The want must be plain on your face as John chuckles and cracks the car door open.

"C'mon. Two tiny pastries is a poor meal. I cannot, in good conscience, take you for a drink on an empty stomach."

When you order, and he reaches for his billfold, you quickly tap your phone to the register. Thanking the truck owner, you delight in the cross expression on John's face.

"You covered dinner, I assume, unless you've made an accomplice of me," You joke as you step to the side of the line with the man, your souring mood remedied with the promise of Turkish food.

John's eyes pinch as if trying to sort you out, and then his face drops into a feigned solemnity. "'Fraid so. We'll never be able to return."

"I'm gutted."

"I can tell."

The two of you stand out of the way of the groups loitering outside of the clubs. Alex hovers nearby.

You watch the short lines with a mixture of admiration and worry. It wasn't too long ago you were one of the giggling young women forgoing proper attire to stand in lines to dance and drink. Arms linked with friends, buzzing from the pre-drink, and making eyes at whoever caught your fancy. It's surreal to be back here with John, of all people. He'd look like an ordinary man if he wasn't in a bespoke suit.

A booming voice calls your number, and you retrieve the food. His serving is massive, tricky to transfer.

"I'm starvin'," He mutters, tucking in like a dog gets after a bone.

You, no better, are two big bites into your kebab. You swallow, shielding your mouth with a palm. "I thought you liked dinner. Our first dinner."

John considers you a moment, cheek bulging slightly with a bite. Before he takes another, he smiles sheepishly. "I hate that restaurant."

The admission poleaxes, and you nearly drop the kebab back into its flimsy tray. "But…I saw you absolutely relish that egg dish. With the truffle?"

"I was keeping the sea urchin down."

"That's what that was?" Your stomach twists, suddenly persnickety, recalling the slimy, coral-pink dish preceding the egg and mushrooms. It tasted salty, but you assumed it was another type of shellfish. Mildly scandalized, a bite finds its way to your mouth, but you pause, shy of the target. "If you hate the place, why did you take me there?"

"Thought you might like it."

You snort, wiping the corner of your lips with a disposable napkin. "Well, I didn't," Despite the lightheartedness, a sliver of asperity threads through your tone, and you swipe your tongue over your teeth. "You didn't ask what I like to eat, or where I might want to go for my anniversary date."

"So this is a date."

You glare, thinking how fast Alex might react to you taking a plastic fork to your employer, shelve the twinge in your chest and settle for pointing the prongs accusingly. "You have some nerve, Mr. Price. Taking a young woman, an employee, to dinner without consulting them."

The glint in his eye sharpens in the kaleidoscopic light. "You didn't complain earlier. You didn't ask."

You rapidly lose patience. "Should I ask next time?"

His mouth curls beneath his beard. "Next time?"

That’s it. You pitch the scraps of your food, dab your mouth again, and head for the car. With a huff, you bypass a hesitating Alex and wrench the car door open, your face flaming with embarrassment and irritation. Head of the company or not, he's an ass, deliberately riling you up. When you turn around, mapping the route home in your head, John's broad form cages you between the open door and the car. A quick glance at the American, and Alex turns away, forcing you to focus on the man before you.

"John." You state simply, hoping his name's magic enough a word to compel him to step aside.

"Didn't mean any harm, doll," He rasps lowly, a hair above a whisper. "Thought the place would impress you. I should've asked, I know, but I've made up for it, haven't I?" This close, his eyes appear darker, overcast with how he's backlit.

Lump in your throat, you exhale through your nose and lick your lip, tasting paprika. "I don't appreciate being teased."

John hums. "No?" His eyes switch between yours before giving a nod of understanding. "Noted. Then I'll be direct. I'd like to take you back to mine for a drink, so we can have some privacy," His hand lifts, palm cupping your face, thumb sweeping a cheek. "Get to know each other. Talk."

Talk. Uh-huh.

It's another precipice that every bit of reason in your bones tells you to step back from. Abort, abandon ship – this man is your boss's boss. No, higher than that. A man whose net worth is a question mark in every record you find. A fragmented exasperation comes out in a sigh, more surrender than defeat. As you mused earlier, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's terribly stereotypical – the sleek high rise, the terse doorman, the private lift, all down to the echo of your heels clicking on dark parquet floors leading to his door, the penthouse, naturally.

However, John's home is warmer than you thought it would be for the owner of a company. A mixture of contemporary artwork hangs throughout the foyer, living, and dining area. Designer fixtures and hardware, clean lines melding with traditional pieces, and a color palette trending darker yet somehow rustic. Despite the company's technological bent, you have yet to spot a single smart home device. Whoever he paid to design and furnish his place, you figure they made out like a bandit.

Eyes cast out of floor-to-ceiling windows, you hold a glass of a Grand Cru, a Bordeaux whose name you immediately forget when you clap eyes on the year. The taste of dark cherry and smoke feels like silk and velvet on your tongue, and you savor it. The view's not too bad, either.

"Like it?"

"It'll do."

It's maddening. Going from barely looking the man in the eye in the line for a themed cocktail at a company party to standing in his home, drinking his expensive wine after he's paid for dinner and the purse currently on his dining table. As you take in the skyline, you hold on to that thought. The umpteenth time, you ask yourself, what the shit are you doing here? This is bad. There is no rationalization. The facts are laid bare in your mind: You are younger than him, not indecently so, but enough that your parents and friends would raise a brow. You are his employee and well on the way to breaking half a dozen more rules. You are an average person with bills and debt and stand to benefit from his generosity. You see it coming, the belated realization that hits like a pile of bricks.

The words slip out. Part declaration, part self-reassurance, wholly unformed. "I'm not going to be your…sugar baby, or whatever." You take a swig, fighting a wave of embarrassment.

In the window's reflection, John rocks on his heels. "I didn't think you were. I don't want you to be."

You turn, meeting his gaze when he mirrors you, squinting at the amusement written clearly on his face. "Then why the drinks? The dinner? The purse?"

"You deserve to be rewarded."

"No, no," You insist, shaking your head and lifting a finger. "You don't do this for other employees."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Have you?"

"'Course not."

You snort into the glass and drink deep. "You're impossible. How do you run a company with that attitude?"

John grins wryly in his own glass and ignores the jab. "Mm. Is this you askin' what we're doing here?"

Usually, eye contact is easy. Now, it's a challenge. "I suppose so, yes."

"We're two people enjoying each other's company," John's eyes drag down you shamelessly, ending back on your face with a polite smile as if he didn't blatantly ogle you. "One of whom happens to be in a position to give presents, and possesses the inclination."

It's an intentionally obtuse answer. "You know what that sounds like."

"It bothers you that much? To leave things as they are?"

"'As they are'," You repeat, then venture, "Casual, then?"

John faces you completely, looming. "I prefer to call it friendly."

Your chin lifts. "And you know what human resources would call it?"

"I might have some sway there."

"You'd abuse your power for me?" You scoff.

"I'd do worse, if you asked, sweetheart."

There’s a pause, an opening, and to your surprising delight, John takes it. He leans down for a kiss.

It's a mix of restraint and fervor. John's hand cradles your jaw, deepening the kiss when he realizes you're not running for the exit. His mouth's clearly the dominant player when yours opens without prompting. Any trace of stiffness in your posture melts, and it's a good thing you're holding a half-full glass of wine because you don't know what else it would reach for or where else it would head.

"Get to know each other. Talk," John said. If this is how he wants to get to know you, you accept it, and let him take you to his bedroom.

"This'll wrinkle," John rucks the sheath of your dress up to your waist, fingers appreciatively trailing down your hips until they curve beneath your knees. His eyes follow a similar path, albeit starting from your face.

"I'll bill you for the dry cleaning." You murmur, biting your lip, watching him take in the view. It's intoxicating, the shift in his breathing, the narrowing of his eyes when it reaches the pale gold silk of your thong. It's as sheer as gossamer and carefully stitched with a pretty floral design, the gusset the only solid strip of fabric apart from the band.

The look on his face makes the bit of debt it put you in worth it.

Your smug grin collapses under the crawl of a knuckle down your covered seam, featherlight.

He hums, hands sliding beneath the band. His eyes flick to yours, the blue cloudy with want. His turn to smirk. "This too?"

"John," You warn half-heartedly, knowing what he's actually asking, lift your hips a little, and plant your hands on the bed.

Slowly, John pulls the garment down your legs. A sharp, audible inhale escapes him when his eyes snap to the apex of your thighs, and he tosses the piece of lingerie aside.

John sinks to his knees at the edge of his bed, unhurried, clearly content to observe your sex like it's one of the expensive pieces of art in his living room. His hands return, gliding up your legs to draw circles into the patches of skin on either side of your pussy, smirking again when he hears you gasp. He remains fixated. "Look at you," he purrs, a thumb brushing through the wetness, spreading it deliberately over your clit.

His thumb continues its lazy swipes while his mouth starts kissing a trail up your thighs. You tremble head to toe, anticipation painting everything in a lush haze.

"Fuck," The curse slips out in an aborted hiss you bite back. It's annoying how easily John works you up, his nettling at the food truck to this – he's barely touched you, and speech is suddenly a weakness. Has it been so long since you last saw some action? The brief, scalding memory of your last romp in the sheets plays in your mind. Freshly broken up with, it was a half-baked rebound with a man from a bar you went to alone, stupidly, and took in like a stray dog. Rutted like one, anyway. Come morning, he'd gone, having apparently found the cash in your wallet but not your clit.

A nip brings you back to the present.

"Still with me?"

How many times could you make a rich man doubt himself in one night? Quite the undiscovered talent to discover. "Sorry, yes," You breathe, words working their way out through a shudder, "It's been awhile."

His stroking slows, eyes narrowing at your admission, mouth tracking to its north star.

For a moment, it seems like he might stop or, worse, ask about it. You reach a hand toward him and stop short. "Can you, just–please?"

Without another word, John parts your thighs further apart, fingers digging gently into the sensitive skin. He dips his head lower, warm breath fanning over your pussy. His broad tongue flattens and drags one long lick from your hole to your clit, circling the sensitive bud. He groans, lapping up the first droplets of arousal, huffing your scent with his nose pressing to your curls. One of his hands makes for your ass, holding you in place when you inevitably jerk from the sensation.

His tongue is a wicked thing. Fitting, given his predilection for banter.

You involuntarily cant your hips up to his mouth, his beard scraping. "John!"

His smirk stretches across his lips, and he chuckles. For a second, he pauses. It's deliciously agonizing, the sight of him licking his lip before he returns back between your legs. The delay is long enough to make the next touch of his tongue a pleasant shock.

But he stops again. "Yeah? You want more?" The question is punctuated by a swipe.

You clench at the sheer arrogance in his voice. Maybe you did like being–

"What was that earlier?" His teeth gently, gently rake over your clit. "Something about you not appreciating being teased?" His laugh is downright mean when you practically squeal.

Your face burns, leaning back on an elbow, unable to remain seated with how you shake. "John, please."

Every word laces together with amusement. "Impatient, aren't you? Just want to make this last, sweetheart."

He delves back in, and in the process, he hauls one of your legs over his shoulder. You drop the other arm back to hold yourself up. His hand on your thigh leaves its post to join his efforts, and his middle fingers slide in without preamble - no need, judging by the obscene squelch.

Your head is the next to fall back at an angle, eyes squeezing shut at the slight stretch, hips bucking when he thrusts them shallowly. Gradually pushing deeper, stroking you from the inside out. His tongue makes a slow pass over your seam, licking over where his fingers disappear, and his mouth seals over your clit.

Again, language fails. The incoherent, shattered pleas and curses erupt out of you seem to spur John on. He groans when your cunt tightens its grip on his fingers, the heat in your belly skyrocketing to the peak at a dizzying speed. You know the orgasm will hit hard if it really has been over a year since someone assisted you in reaching one.

"John, please, John," you hurtle towards oblivion, leaving human resources in the dust. You fist his bedding, knuckles flexing, and force yourself to look at him.

John's eyes are open, pupils blown, zeroed in on your face with an intensity that makes you clench once more. He grunts something in response, vaguely encouraging with his big palm on your ass, squeezing and keeping you in place.

When it crests, your back meets the mattress with a cry. John rises slightly to follow your body's momentum, tongue still working fervently, though his fingers stop. He pulls out the digits to grab the ankle of your leg over his shoulder, your own wetness painting over the joint like a brushstroke. He gently removes the limb from its perch, and his mouth slows.

The first hints of overstimulation make you whimper and clumsily reach for the crown of his head, fingers threading through short hair to pull him off.

John detaches himself from your pussy, but not without a few parting kisses.

While you try to gather the pieces of your consciousness flung about, John retracts and stands, rubbing one of your calves. You nearly short-circuit when you meet eyes at last. He's sucking his fingers with the same care he showed at dinner. The first one. He grins.

"My dessert."

You consider chucking his own pillow at his face. The crime of a rich man using a cheap line. It's annoying you still want his cock. You reach for him, fingers hooking around his belt to pull him forward and down, a knee landing between your legs. He ducks his head to meet you halfway for a kiss, your tongue licking over the seam of his mouth, tasting yourself. You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lungs hurt. Now that he's broken your dry spell, it's open season.

Only, he puts a stop to it, pulling back when you unfasten his belt buckle. He cups your face. "I'd rather focus on you right now, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. "That's not–You don't have to…"

"Hm, I want to see how many times I can make you come tonight." His other hand toys with the thin strap of your dress. "Should get this off you, before I ruin it."

The dress is a lost cause, as with any intention you had of sneaking out in the middle of the night. The dress joins your underwear, and you spend the rest of the evening learning just how generous John Price can be.

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