#but scruff? stubble? it's rough! it's like deep pressure

[papa-evershed]

Rob James-Collier as Daniel Watson THE INHERITANCE

[loversandantiheroes]

not to come yell at you or anything but i saw those frankie tags 👀 and i am in *need*

Lord, that is a whole-ass mood.  Needy!Frankie lives rent-free in my brain 24/7.  Like this exact scenario has been in my head for w e e k s and I just haven’t had the braincells to get it down.  But hey, no time like the present, right? *cracks knuckles*

1.5k of unbeta’d and unedited Needy!Frankie smut, f!receiving oral, with a side of frankie x floor (I kid, mostly).

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As soon as Frankie pulls in the drive, you know something’s wrong.  He takes the turn just a little too sharp, engine running too hot and too loud before he kills it.  There’s a long beat of silence, long enough that you begin to think that maybe you were just overthinking things.  But then there’s the unmistakable sound of the driver side door slamming shut, and your feet are already carrying you towards the front door.

You’re halfway down the hall when you hear his keys rattling in the door – and they keep rattling, the doorknob twisting as far as the lock will allow before releasing back.  Either he can’t get the key in the lock, or he can’t quite make it catch.  The mechanism clicks, straining, and for a second you’re afraid he’ll break the thing out of pure frustration.

“Ease up, Frankie,” you call through the door.  “I’m here, baby, I got it.”

The rattling ceases, and you hear the unmistakable thump of Frankie’s head coming to rest against the wood.

“Querida,” he says.  “I can’t...I can’t get the fucking door.”  It’s muffled through the wood, but there is a catch of tearful frustration in his voice that makes your heart beat a little faster as you undo the locks.

When the door swings open you’ve only got a second to take in the look of him – his eyes strained under the shadow of his crooked ball cap – before he’s pushing against you, crowding you back into the hall.  He catches the door with a heel and kicks it shut so hard the windows rattle in their frames.

“Hey, hey,” you try to soothe, pushing his hat off to smooth his hair back.  “What is it, what’s wrong?”

He only shakes his head, breathing hard and quick through his nose like an agitated bull.  His throat works, fighting to swallow or to speak, you’re not sure.  His hands fall heavy against your hips, fingers curling into the waistband of your jeans and tugging.  “Please, baby,” he mutters in a voice so strained it’s on the verge of breaking.  His fingers slide around until his thumb rests on the button of your fly.  “I need it.  I need you.  I–”

You nod, stroking your thumbs over the overgrown stubble on his jaw.  This isn’t the first time you’ve been here.  Something's gone wrong today.  It might be something big, it might be nothing, but whatever it was was enough to shake him down and leave him feeling like he can’t do anything right.  He’ll explain it to you later when he can breathe again, when his shoulders aren’t pulled up in one solid knot and his jaw has finally unclenched.  He always does.  But right now, more than anything else, he needs to prove that he can do something right. 

And that’s you.

“I’m right here, Frankie,” you tell him with a willing nod.  “You got me.”

Frankie makes a soft, desperate little noise in the back of his throat and carries you wordlessly to the floor, unable or unwilling to wait long enough to get you into bed.  His mouth is on yours only for a moment, just long enough for a hard, grateful kiss before he moves down your body.  He’s too needy to be gentle, too desperate.  You’re sure you hear stitches ripping as he yanks your fly open and drags your jeans and underwear both down to your ankles.  They bunch up around your sneakers, but Frankie's normally dexterous hands are too unsteady for that, clumsy with need and agitation, so he just pushes your legs up and ducks under them, settling on the floor between your bared thighs.

When his mouth finds you, you sigh and he groans.  The sound resonates through his whole body and into you, buzzing against your thighs and the closed seam of your cunt.  His hair is rough with the salt of dried sweat as you work your fingers into it, tipping your hips up as you press his head down.  His hands slide up between your thighs, pushing them aside, and it takes a little effort to keep your ankles from knocking into the back of his head as he opens you wider.

On a good day Frankie Morales is one of the most patient men you’ve ever met, in bed or out of it.  He’ll coax you open slowly, work you over with his hands and mouth – and always his whole mouth, none of that timid tongue-flicking bullshit – until you’re wet and open and ready for whatever he wants to give you.  Even if it’s just more of his graciously worshipful mouth.

But this is not a good day, and in place of that gentle patience there is an almost feral hunger.  Frankie parts you with his fingers, opening you up to drag the flat of his tongue up from your entrance to your clit over and over in hard, aggressive strokes.

You keep your fingers moving through his hair, breath turning ragged as he fits his mouth to you, lapping and sucking eagerly at your sex.

“Baby,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your clit.  It’s pitched up and plaintive like he’s begging, but he can’t find the words to fit what he needs.

“Yes, Frankie,” you answer, shuddering as his teeth press briefly against your tender flesh.  “God yes, baby.  You’re always so good.”

And there’s that desperate little sound at the back of his throat again as his broad hands grip the soft flesh of your thighs tight.  His shoulders shift under you, your legs rocking up and back, and you look down to find him rutting his hips shamelessly against the floor.

There.  That’s what he needs.  And that’s easy enough to give, praises flowing out of you steadily as you roll your hips against his voracious mouth.  “So good, Frankie,” you breathe.  “You’re getting me so wet, baby, I can feel it.”

Instantly his tongue trails down, delving into you with a strength that always takes your breath away.  He moans deliriously, the taste of your arousal only serving to whet his appetite further.  Two thick fingers curl into you, pressing up and drumming insistently as he devours you like a man possessed.

The praises dissolve on your tongue like sugar, your voice gone tight and ragged as he lights you up, the words harder and harder to focus on.  And that’s even better.  Your broken gasps leave him lurching, grinding down into the floor and moaning against you.  It’s good, it’s so good and he can tell how good it is for you, his shoulders rocking into you faster as you begin to quiver and jerk under the assault.

“Querida.”  The epithet leaves him in a whine.  “Baby, please.  I need you to come.”

“Close,” you rasp out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and guiding him, holding him still while you rock your clit against the wet, yielding heat of his mouth. “Frankie, baby...f-fuck– ” 

The motion of his body falters as you use him, the sound of his belt buckle knocking against the floorboards now a hard, syncopated beat.  The pressure of his fingers inside you reaches a fever pitch and you shatter, shouting his name and pounding a fist on the floor as you come, shaking and rocking with the spasm.

And that, blessedly, means you get to watch him come right after, his body rigid, feet digging in for purchase as his hips knock stiltedly against the floor.  His shout is almost as loud as yours, and he muffles his cries against your still-twitching cunt.  You fall back on your elbow, head swimming, and you can feel the hard line of Frankie’s shoulders finally relax under you.

You unclench the fist in his hair, stroke down to cup the back of his neck.  “Come up, baby.  C’mere.”

Panting, Frankie nods dumbly, and pushes himself forward on his elbows.  He kisses you, gentle once more, his heart still beating hard enough to make his breathing falter. 

“Hey.  I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.

He knocks his forehead into yours, closing his eyes.  “Love you, too, baby.”

And then he curls into you, tucking his head into the side of your neck and pressing himself down.  His belt buckle digs into your stomach, and you can feel a broad stripe of wet warmth soaking through the front of his jeans under the slowly softening bulge of his cock.

With a contented hum you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight.  He smells of hot sun and dried sweat and the lingering sharpness of engine oil.  You cradle the back of his head with one hand, rub slowly up and down his back with the other. 

“Bad day?” you ask, kissing the corner of his jaw next to his ear.

He nods, scruff scraping along your shoulder.  “Yeah.  Bad day,” he agrees.  You feel the warm press of his lips against the side of your neck, slow and sweet, before he draws in a long, shuddering breath.  He holds it for a beat and then releases it slowly; a bone-deep sigh of utter relief.  “Better now.”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Prompt #59 with modern Arthur showing modern Reader Dom/Sub play for the first time 🤤 (Arthur being the dom) smut pls 🥺 (also I sent one angsty prompt before and saw ur post and i just wanna say I'm sorry I'm just a sad bich lol 😭)

Number 59 (reverse, reverse!):

Ooooooh lord this one’s exciting! Also, it’s okay about the angst. I was just hoping for some more variety, lol. I also got a little carried away with this one, NO RAGRETS.

“Get at me bad girl~!”

You swayed your hips to the melody, rubbing the sponge in a rhythmic motion against a dirty dish.

“Oooh work me baby, shakin’ it the way I like!”

You rinsed the plate off and placed it in the drying rack, your body rocking in a wave to the beat.

“I’m ready to be bad, I need a bad girl!”

You’d grabbed another dirty dish to work on. With the music loud and the water running, you were oblivious to the surroundings.

“Get at me, bad girl!”

The warmth of strong hands wrapped around your waist. The initial surprise wore off instantly as you relaxed onto a well-muscled torso.

“Havin’ fun, sweetheart?” a voice rumbled with a laugh, his lips tickling your ear.

“Of course,” you giggled, turning your head to greet him with a sultry kiss. “Welcome home, by the way.”

“Glad to be home.” he murmured, resting his hand on your cheek. His flesh was cool to the touch after having been outside, the smell of winter air still fresh on his clothes.

You turned around to face him, pressing yourself into the soft threads of his sweater. You always liked the smell of him; leather and nature. The scruff of his stubble tickled your forehead as he pressed his lips to it. Despite the background noise, it was peaceful in his arms. It always was in his presence.

He moved his mouth down, gently brushing along the bridge of your nose, kissing the tip, before meeting your lips again. There was a hint of passion behind it, locking your face with his hand as he held your jaw. His other arm gripped you closer, pressing you to his body. You felt his hand give a gentle squeeze to your ass.You gave a soft moan in response, a fire erupting deep in your body. An unexpected notion, though a welcoming one.

He pulled back an inch, expressing a low chuckle.

“Arthur?” you questioned lowly.

“You wanna be bad?” he whispered to you. “Or do you wanna be good?”

You blushed hard, though a smooth grin appeared on your lips. “How about we find out?”

He matched your grin with a smile of his own. Reaching down, he gripped your thighs and you immediately responded with jumping up, wrapping your arms and legs around him. He carried you with ease, turning off the water and abandoning the partially done dishes in favor of fun.

You’d reached the bedroom in no time, him leaning down to place you on the bed. His hands never left you as he kissed you again, climbing onto the mattress as his mouth ravaged your lips. He practically trapped you underneath him, rough palms roaming your body. You flinched as his cold touch grazed your warm skin, sneaking underneath the fabric of your shirt. Breaking the kiss, he had pulled your shirt off, leaning down to place tender pecks along your midline.

With nimble expertise, he had your pants off within seconds, leaving you in just your bra and panties, though he was still fully dressed. You reached to start on him, only to have him grasp your hands. He smiled at your whine of protest.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he said to you. “I wanna do somethin’ different.”

This piqued your interest. Soon forgetting about your restraint, you asked, “Like what?”

Releasing your hand, he took hold of your chin once again. His gaze bore deep into your eyes with such intensity that you had to keep yourself from looking away. “I wanna dominate you, darlin’. If that’s okay.”

Dominate? Like, a dom/sub routine? The mere thought sent a current of electricity through your system, tingling your every nerve, settling down below. It was always a secret fantasy of yours, though never outwardly admitting it to Arthur. You were afraid he’d refuse. Knowing that he wanted to do the same was a thrill of its own.

“Y-yes,” you answered, voice quivering with excitement. “Please be my dom, Arthur!”

A smirk formed on his face as he leaned down to kiss you again, deep and passionate as his tongue worked against yours. He held it for a long moment, you lost in the heat of the moment as you could feel the fabric of your panties slowly becoming damp.

He pulled back, using his teeth to pull at your bottom lip. “You call me Sir, or Mr. Morgan. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” you answered with definite respect.

“Good girl,” he cooed, running his hand along your cheek. His eyes were soft. “I may get rough with ya, so you let me know if you ain’t comfortable with somethin’. Red’s the safety word.”

You gave a nod in understanding.

“Good,” he rumbled, standing back up and working at his belt. You watched as he pulled his cock free, erect and standing at attention. “Come suck on it.”

You wordlessly sat up and sunk to the floor, positioning yourself at his feet. Staring at the length at eye height, you leaned forward and licked the head. Upon hearing a soft moan from your new master, you began to slowly engulf him in your mouth.

His hand took its place on the back of your head, prompting you to take him further. Your head bobbed slowly at first, soaking the shaft with ease. You pressed the underside of him with your tongue, earning a deep groan.

More pressure was applied to your head, and you bobbed faster. The sound of his pleasure sent a thrill through you, responding in a hum along his length. His hips shuddered slightly from the vibration.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck your mouth.” He breathed, wrapping your hair around his hand.

You gave another hum in response to voice your approval. He held your head firmly, bucking himself forward.

You held yourself, forcing down a gag that crept up from your chest. You felt him hit the back of your throat, though keeping himself restrained to not hurt you. A string of swears slid from his mouth as he continuously thrust. He praised you and pet your hair, keeping up for another moment before coming to a stop.

“Ya took me well, darlin’.” he purred, pushing stray locks of hair from your face.

You would smile if your mouth wasn’t full of him at the moment, though you cast your eyes up, meeting his with appreciation. A half smile formed on his lips as he pulled from you, releasing your head.

Sitting still, your hands curled into fists resting lightly on your thighs. Your focus was on him, waiting to see what command was next. He gestured for you to return to the bed and you did, sitting on the edge expectantly. He rounded over to your side, promptly opening your drawer and digging out your personal magic wand. A smirk graced his face as he walked back over to you.

Curiosity bloomed, eyeing the purple rod in his hand. He pressed it into your grip, spoken with, “I wanna see you cum from this.”

With a short nod, you leaned back and began to shimmy your underwear off.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. Keep those on.”

You blinked and gave him a look of questioning, though met it with silent expectancy. You didn’t wonder further as you spread your legs, switching the machine on and holding it to yourself.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you, expressing itself in a low moan. You’d only ever used this alone; whenever Arthur was away for a few days and you needed release. He knew about it, of course, as he was the one who bought it for you. This was however a first, breaking it out for some fun for the both of you.

Despite the strong vibrations rocking your very core, the thin cotton proved just enough of a barrier to experience it in full. Oh how you wanted to move it, though you weren’t sure Arthur would approve. You pressed it harder against your clit, your legs twitching from the sensation that only strengthened from there.

You caught him staring at you with a hungry glare; his hand wrapped around his length, pumping lazily, pleasuring himself from watching you chase yours. Feeling flustered, you shut your eyes and threw your head back, letting your imagination take you the rest of the way.

The build was slow at first, though soon rushed along the more vulnerable you felt under Arthur’s watchful eye. Your free hand slinked across your chest, squeezing your breasts through your cups. Another moan escaped your throat, louder, as the fire burned intensely deep within you.

In mere seconds, your body sprung to life as your orgasm overtook you, every muscle tensing as ecstasy washed over you like a wave. Breathing heavily, you peered at Arthur again.

“Good girl,” he said, approaching you, stepping in between your legs. His hand brushed across your center, chuckling at the small gasp you gave from your hypersensitivity. You closed your thighs instinctively, though Arthur pried them apart with ease. “Don’t hide from me.”

His hand brushed against you again, touch lighter than a feather. “Absolutely soaked,” he continued with a pleased tone. His fingers pushed aside the fabric, sliding across your folds. “All for me.”

“Yes,” you moaned, your legs shuddering from his touch. “All for you, Mr. Morgan.”

A triumphant smile appeared on his face. He removed his sweater and shirt, exposing his perfect chest and abs. He then leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I wanna tie you up.” he murmured against your skin.

Your eyes widened at this. “W-what?” you stammered.

“Bind your hands,” he continued, bringing his hips forward to slide his cock through your folds, teasing your clit. “Fuck ya like that.”

Your voice trembled with a small moan. “I…” you began, trying to think of how you felt about that. However, your mind was too addled by him. “Ah…”

“Don’t gotta if you don’t wanna,” he assured you, keeping up with his antics. He even prodded your entrance, threatening to enter, your body yearning for him. “But I wanna try.”

The picture was painted clear in your mind. Hands tied behind your back like a hostage while Arthur fucked you mercilessly. It instilled slight fear into your heart, though overwhelmed by excitement for something new. “O-okay.”

His lips moved down to yours, kissing you tenderly for a moment before standing up straight. He walked away to retrieve something, and came back with a black cloth in his hands. A bandanna that he used often, usually worn around his neck in the warmer months.

“I’ll start gentle, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Remember the safety word.”

You nodded silently.

Smiling down at you, motioned for you to turn over. Getting on your knees, he took your hands and moved them behind your back. He then wrapped the bandanna around your wrists to bind you securely. With an experimental tug, you found they were snug but not tight. This eased your already pounding heart somewhat.

He stood behind you, gently pushing you to relax into the bedsheets. As you pressed your face against the cool fabric, he once again tugged your underwear out of the way, finding your entrance with ease. Teasingly running his fingers along your clit once more, working a whine out of you before he sheathed himself in one smooth motion.

You sighed in delight, melting at the feeling of him filling you up. He began to thrust slowly, gently, running his hand along your exposed back. Though hindered in some movement, the new sensation was surprisingly even more exciting than you imagined.

Moaning into the blankets, you could only keep your ass up as he used you to his liking. He steadily grew quicker, harder, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. His groans filled the room. “That’s it, darlin’,” he mumbled to you. “God, ya look so good like this.”

You could only give a muffled whine in response, biting into the comforter as he fucked you with growing intensity. Your fingers flexed helplessly, wanting to grab hold of something, anything, to hold yourself down from the pleasure that filled your body.

The noise of your vibrator caught your attention, and before you could turn your head to look, the head was placed upon your clit. You let out a yelp of surprise, beginning to quiver from the stimulation.

“Cum for me, princess,” he growled. “But ask me ‘fore ya do.”

“Shit!” you hissed out, feeling your second climax too soon on the rise. Wrenched out from your body too quick for you to form the words, your legs gave out from underneath you, your heart racing and your chest heaving.

It was silent for a moment, you lost in your post orgasm bliss. Arthur however had stopped moving.

SMACK!

The sharp sting on your ass caused you to jump, giving another surprised cry. Turning your head to look at him from the side, “Ar-” you stopped yourself. “Sir?”

He leaned forward, pressing himself against you. “Told ya to ask me first,” he whispered in your ear. “You didn’t. So you got punished.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “It was too much.”

“Then we gotta train ya to hold it,” he responded, bringing his hips away and bucking into you with sudden fierceness. “Think you can do that for me?”

“Yes,” you groaned, holding back a gasp. “I will try.”

“That’s my girl.” he said, voice glowing with approval. His hand gently rubbed your ass cheek, the skin tender from where he slapped. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck, a soft gesture in contrast to the animalistic thrusts of his hips. Standing straight once more, he pulled out and flipped you on your back, gripping your legs before entering you again.

He didn’t hesitate to go fast this time, pounding you with abandon as he unleashed a loud, guttural groan. You threw your head back, singing out your pleasure as you wriggled, your hands wanting to instinctively grasp anything yet failing.

He released one leg to dip his hand down, circling his thumb along your bud. Though still slightly sensitive, you gave a louder moan. He watched your face, waiting for a reaction.

You released some swears, your legs twitching and trembling. You were glad it wasn’t your toy this time, allowing for a slower build. As it began the climb, Arthur’s words echoed in your head.

“Sir, can I p-please cum?” you asked breathlessly.

“You may.”

As he quickened his pace, you cried out loud as the third one rocked your body from head to toe. Your back had arched off the bed, spreading a heat that tinged every nerve.

As you caught your breath, he removed his hand and leaned over you, staring directly into your eyes. The lingering heat made its presence in your cheeks, quickly averting your gaze.

“Look at me,” his voice soft, though full of authority. As you met his gaze again, he continued. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth, you ready?”

With a nod from you, his thrusts strengthened even more, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in your shared bedroom. Not even a full moment passed when he suddenly pulled out.

“On the floor, now.” he commanded in a hurried voice.

You obeyed, immediately dropping yourself to the ground once again. Face to face with his cock, you opened your mouth as he quickly rubbed himself. Silvery strings of his spend shot out, coating your tongue.

As the last of it dripped out, you swallowed dutifully. Peering up at him, seeing the bliss bloom across his face as he attempted to catch his breath. He looked down at you, offering a sweet smile as he reached down, running his fingers through your hair.

“That’s my girl.”

You matched his smile with one of your own. “Did I do good, Mr. Morgan?”

He knelt down to you, reaching around to untie your wrists. As the binding loosened, he kissed you and murmured, “Better than good, darlin’. You did amazin’.”

—

Song used: Bad Girl by Usher

Tagging @verai-marcel cause I KNOW yo thirsty ass will appreciate this

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[abunchofstories]

Something of Mine

A Chris/OFC One-Shot - 2422 words

By: @lowkeysebastianstan

Pairing: Chris (Destroyer)/Unnamed OFC 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Smut, Sex, Graphic Depiction Of The Sex™ , Fucking, Screwing, Intercourse, Vaginal Sex, Maybe A Little Rough Sex?, A Poor Bathroom Sink, Oh, and language. 

I had something in my head, and it needed out. 

Edited by the lovely @mischief-in-mirkwood

There was always that one guy. That guy who stood out in a crowd, who might as well have a warning flashing over his head, red lights blinking DANGER DANGER DANGER.

He would be muscular—sometimes lean and sinewy but always hard, usually taller than average, exuding strength and dominance. He wouldn't necessarily be handsome in the most conventional sense, but he would always be attractive and aware of it. He would be casually dressed, rarely suited, but would favour leather and denim, often a combination of the two. He would have either scars or piercings or tattoos, sometimes all, and his demeanour would be cool and distant, but sensual all the same. He would always drink beer or hard liquor, usually nursing his drink longer than average, not risking losing control. His hair would either be too long or too short, always sporting facial hair, even if it was sometimes only a few days stubble. His expression would be superior, sometimes bored, but his eyes would be piercing and attentive and he would ooze sex.

I'd met him many times, I'd loved him and hated him and fought him, sometimes physically, I'd had him for a night or for months, one lasted over a year, but the end result was a given from the go: he wasn't a keeper. As my mom would say. And she was right. I'd never listened to her, but she was right. Hence my current predicament. That guy was always the same, we would laugh and cry and fight and most of all fuck. Dear god, we would fuck.

So when I saw him all the bells went off in my head, don't don't don't. How long he had been watching me I wasn’t sure, I’d not noticed him at first, he was sitting in the corner, his back against the wall, his face in shadow. He was sitting with a small group, 4 guys ranging widely in age, laughing and talking, but he was not taking part in the conversation. He was just scanning the room, taking the occasional sip. He averted my quick glances, but I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around the room, talking, laughing, drinking and dancing.

He was that guy, but something made him different.

After hours of silent vigilance he got up and moved in my direction, and I finally got a good look at him. He was in his mid-thirties, dressed in low slung, dark jeans, a grey tank under a denim west, his arms strong and well defined, a big tattoo on his right upper arm. He had a short undercut, dark blonde if I were to guess in the poor lighting, his chin covered by a trimmed beard, his jaw sharp and accentuated by a light scruff. I couldn't make out the colour of his eyes, it was too dark, but they met mine unflinchingly for the first time all evening as he moved past me, brushing his bare arm against mine, leaving a burning mark from the touch. He glanced back and murmured an apology, but I was sure it wasn't an accident, and I saw a hint of a smirk as he turned away. I stared after him, taking in his butt and back. Damn. He was downright gorgeous, and I could feel a familiar pool soaking my underwear. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

I sat by the bar until he returned, watched him as he got a fresh beer and found a spot leaning against the wall by the exit instead of returning to his seat. He stood there, drinking lazily, making my spine tingle as he followed me when I went over to some friends and sat down, superficially taking part in the conversation while he made it harder and harder to concentrate. I wondered how he would smell, if his chest was as hard as it looked, how his beard would feel against my neck. The longer I sat, the wetter I got, I had to do something, my mother could go fuck herself, I just wanted to fuck him. I scooted down, minimised my movements by conversation, excused myself and got up, my hand clutched by my side.

He kept watching me as I approached, draining his beer and leaving the bottle hanging from between his fingers. I stopped in front of him, meeting his gaze head-on, reached out and put the damp silk in his hand and closed his fist around it. He didn't look down but a flash of realisation crossed his face, shock widening his eyes.

I bored into him for a few beats, let go of his hand and walked off into the hallway.

“Hey.” I kept walking, enjoying the tinge of his stare, knowing he took the opportunity to have a real good look. “Hey, miss.”

I stopped, I could hear his steps come closer, soft on the concrete floor and turned to face him. His gait was smooth and he approached lightly despite his heavy boots, especially for a man of his size.

He stopped three feet away and ran his eyes over me, stopping at my calves, my thighs, my hips, no doubt noticing there was nothing underneath my tight dress, worked his way up my chest, checking out my cleavage, his tongue and teeth massaging his lower lip, a smirk curling his mouth, his full red wet mouth and his eyes were blown when he finally locked into mine.

“I think I have something of yours.” He turned his palm upwards, showing me how he was weaving the fabric between his fingers, his hand slick with my arousal. I stared, enthralled for a moment at the sensuality of it, his hands seemed so delicate and graceful, and I wondered what else he could do with them, how they would feel on me, all over me, in my mouth, in my pussy, tangled into my hair while he fucked me senseless. I caught a small movement to my side where the bulge in his pants really had me hoping he wasn’t carrying. Shit. I hoped my moan wasn’t audible, but when I looked up the smirk was gone, and his eyes had darkened even further.

“Are you leaving?” His voice was thick and gravelly, resonating in my midriff, shooting a surge of blood straight down, smearing the insides of my thighs even further.

I bit down on my lip to stop another involuntary sound from escaping and glanced down at his erection, fighting to stop myself from palming him in the middle of the hall, getting us both through in jail for public indecency.

“No. I have something to take care of first.” I swallowed and he followed my glance to his erection. He waited for half a beat and scanned the corridor, pocketed my panties, grabbed my hand and set off to a bathroom 20 feet further down.

He wrenched the door open, dragged me inside, bolted the door and almost threw me against the far wall, and he was on me with a savage growl. He grabbed my ass, pushed himself into me, letting me feel how hard he was and plunged his tongue into my open mouth, his groans mixing with mine. I camped my hands onto is arms, feeling my way up, his muscles flexing under hot skin as I was clawing up to his shoulders and neck, his short hair bristling as I stroked his head and forced him closer, his clean scent filling my nostrils.

He almost ripped my dress when he pulled it up to my waist and let out a snarl when he hit bare skin, ground into me roughly before he broke the kiss and turned me against the wall, his hand sliding down and covering my mound, his finger stroking my clit on the way down and slid inside me, and my head flew back as I gasped for air.

“Can I fuck you like this?”

“Holy shit, yes.” We were both panting, the words coming out in bursts, and he twisted me towards the counter, two fingers buried deep in me, the back of his hand massaging me, keeping the pressure up, his other arm around my chest, anchoring me to him. I could feel his heart pounding into my back, his mouth open against my neck, grunting into my ear as his hand tugged my dress down and cupped my breast, his thumb flicking my already oversensitive nipple.

“Fuuuck.” He drew his hand back, leaving leaving me empty and aching. I felt a wet trail across my stomach and he ripped his fly open and I could feel his cock against my buttock, jabbing through his boxers until he freed it fully and shoved it between my legs, dipping into my folds and I arched back, revelling in anticipation. “Shit.” He held my neck as he dug through his pocket and emerged with a condom, let me go while he stepped back enough to swiftly pull it on, and nudged my leg with his knee to spread me wider before he positioned himself at my entrance, letting my soaked folds and thighs lubricate the rubber.

“Look.” I opened my eyes and stared into the mirror, my hair a sweaty mess, my dress in complete disarray, my lips as swollen and red as his, his beard glistening and his eyes boring into mine through the reflection, and it was the hottest thing I’d seen. “Keep looking.”

I stared as hypnotised as he clamped my hips and entered me slowly, letting me adjust to the size and tighten around him. I couldn't help my eyes rolling back as he filled me, I was already throbbing, my pussy swelling to welcome him, and I clung onto the edge of the sink, almost whimpering as I pushed back to meet and seated him fully.

“Fuck. Fuck, your cunt is amazing.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, almost drowned out by his heavy breathing, and I met his eyes in the mirror again, his jaw slack and his mouth open, his tongue flicking out, looking on the verge of losing control, and I clenched in response, egging him on, wanting him even deeper. He reached forward again, found my clit and started circling it as he jutted his hips, his arm hoisting me up by my ribs before he pulled back and started thrusting slowly, biting his lip as he watched us connecting. “Fuck. It looks so good, you look so good.”

The words shot through me, forcing out a groan, and I looked down, watched his hand work on me, heard the wet sucking as his fingers spread my folds and applied more pressure to my clit, leaving me nearly hyperventilating. He kept me in agony, his cock hitting every single nerve in my walls, his fingers shooting currents inwards, colliding in a burning, pulsing knot and I curved my back, reached behind to urge him to move faster, harder, I was desperate to come, to get some release, the tension was agony, and I’d never felt that good.

“Please.” I was panting, exhaling in shallow bursts, and he smiled, enjoying the power, enjoying the control, wanting me to beg for more, and I complied willingly. “Please.”

He chuckled, his fingers twitched and circled once before he picked up the pace and started rubbing harder and thrusting faster, his jaw set as he held back, concentrating on my climax before his. His other hand left my hip and closed around my ribs, cupping my breast and pulled me up. I fell back on his shoulder, and he covered my lips with his as he plunged into my mouth. I could feel the heat emerging, hot flashes surging from my centre, radiating through my whole body, my pussy contracting and throbbing violently and my head fell back, a silent scream stuck in my throat.

“That’s it. Scream for me.” I whimpered into his mouth, I couldn’t move and my legs were giving out. He slowly retracted his hand, rubbing my clit lightly and lifted his fingers to my mouth, smearing my cum on my bottom lip, sucked it gently and kissed me, his breath washing over my hot face before he lowered me down, hitched one of my knees in his elbow, held it in place on the counter and bent me forward, supporting me as he pulled back and slammed into me. I fell down on my elbows, my arms struggling with the weight of me as I clung to the sink, and he pounded me faster and faster, lifting me off the floor as he fucked me. I felt myself chasing another orgasm, every thrust bringing me closer, his grunts filling my head, and I tipped over the edge seconds before he arched back, slammed into me one last time and let out a deep rasping groan as he emptied himself over and over inside me, my own contractions milking every last drop out of him. He fell over me, his arms bracing outside mine to stop me from collapsing, and he stayed there while our breathing and pulses returned to something human again. After a few minutes my legs were shaking so hard I thought I would pass out, and he chuckled into my shoulder.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Here.” He pushed himself off, staggered a little, causing a small hiss to escape me as he withdrew. He pulled me up with him, fanning his fingers across my stomach and popped off the condom, throwing it into the trashcan by the door. He tucked his dick back into his boxers and started fixing my dress, tugging it in place, all the while staring at us in the mirror.

“There.” He smoothed down my hair and squeezed my shoulders before he kissed me on the cheek and ran his hands down my arms, resting his forehead on my shoulder before he released me and turned towards the door. “I have to go. Thank you. That was lovely.”

“Likewise.” I kept my tone neutral, surprised at how little I wanted him to leave. Huh. He stared at me for a long time, started to speak, stopped and opened the door, wavered a little before he walked out and left the door to slide shut behind him. Fuck.

I took a long look in the mirror, smoothed my dress one last time and followed him, realising he still had my panties in his pocket. Well fuck. I smiled to myself as I stepped through the door.

Something of Yours aka pt 2

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 20 ~The Healing Kind~

With her legs wrapped around his waist, Jamie opened the door and stepped into his dimly lit bedroom. Staggering, he swivelled on his heel and pinned her back against the wall, hips pressing into her inner thigh.

He chuckled, lowering his head and his nose nudging her ear. His scent of soap, aftershave and man swirled in giddy circles, heightening her senses and making her wriggle to get closer.

As if he knew exactly what she needed, he hoisted her higher and pushed up the hem of her dress. He ran his palms on her buttocks, fingers slipping under the flimsy red lace of her panties and grinding his erection between her legs. Claire felt exposed, but the position felt deliciously perfect and indecent all at the same time. 

"I hope ye dinnae mind waiting a bit longer for food because right now all I can think of is making love to ye," he murmured against her neck.

Claire whimpered in frustration. She was dying a slow death, and her insides were throwing a spasm party, and here he was talking about food. She frantically tugged his shirt up and slipped a hand into his sweatpants. "Damn it, Jamie, you talk too much."

Jerking involuntarily at her touch, he let out a tortured groan and dropped his head onto her shoulder. "Ah, fuck. Are ye trying to kill me, Sassenach?"

"No," she gasped, eagerly clasping her hand around his shaft. "We can't have that. I like having you around."

Jamie grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand. "I'm glad to hear of it, but I must say, ye have a firm grip for someone as delicate as ye, Sassenach."

She squeezed his throbbing cock in retaliation. "I want you. N-now."

He shuddered helplessly in her grip, his restraint evident in the rigidness of his muscles and tensed jaw. "I'm trying to go slow for ye," he muttered.

"We've been there and done that." She grabbed a handful of Jamie's hair and drew his mouth down to meet hers. 

His arms immediately circled around her like steel, hauling her up against him as he sunk into the kiss. He joined their mouths with such force that she had to cling to his shoulders for balance. She could feel the change in his hard muscles underneath his clothes, tightening and moving over the light material of her dress. His scruff chafed her skin, and his hips forced her legs wider apart until a bolt twisted deep in her belly, and her limbs started to lose its faculty. Jamie licked inside her mouth and drew his tongue out slowly, all the while twisting handfuls of her dress's material.

She nearly cried out from the loss of pressure from his mouth, but his gaze willed her to look into his eyes, the translucent blue touched by storm clouds before a lightning hits.

"Why are you staring like that for?" she asked, with a crack in her voice.

Although his breathing was shallow, he smiled slightly. "Because ye are the most beautiful thing I ken and I can stare at ye for hours, and I'll never tire of it. I cannae believe ye're with me."

She forced her lungs to take in slow breaths. This man before her had the kind of face that stopped women in their tracks, and with his intrinsic charm, he'd cycled through them faster than his razor blades. And yet, those eyes, screaming out emotions, sought her approval and revered her.

He was beautiful, indeed, but his true beauty came from the depth of his eyes and the gentle expressions of his manner. There was something of the warrior in him, combined with a forbearance that made her heart reach out. She loved him most when he lost himself to the moment and forgot the mask he wore for others, as he did now. When he is older, the lines on his face will deepen, and he will still be handsome, but it is his soul she had a glimpse of, that will shine through. So tonight she would give him her heart and take his to keep safe.

The instinct to give all of herself had her hand trailing down his stomach toward his waistband once more. "No, Sassenach," he growled, snagging her wrists. "I need a fucking minute to get my head around the idea ye're really mine. Christ! Do ye have any idea how ye're looking at me right now and what it's doing to me?" His jaw bunched and his nostrils flared. "Ye touch me down there again, and I'll burst."

"I want to," she breathed, swayed by the desire to make Jamie lose his composure and see all of him. She wanted to see his needs on display so she could be the one who took care of them. "Please, Jamie." She pushed at his chest, and he had no choice but to let her leg down one at a time, carefully cradling her against the wall with his body, his laboured breaths heavy above her head.

His forehead fell onto hers. "Ye think I need a reason to want ye any more when it's already so much?"

Knowing she drove him near breaking point made her even more determined. With a smile, her right hand drifted lower and squeezed his cock, drawing out a low groan from his mouth. "Jamie, Jamie," she whispered, lowering herself onto her knees and pulling his sweatpants and boxer shorts down along with her. "I want to do this for you so badly." Her face came level with his trim hips and hard thighs and an erection that stood proudly between his legs. Licking her lips, she pressed her mouth at the head and cupped his balls.

"Ah, Christ, Sassenach," he gritted through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then propped one hand on the wall, the other caressing her cheek. "I havenae earned this."

She gazed up at him and wrapped a hand around his girth. "I'll be the judge of that," she whispered, stroking him towards her lips. Her tongue darted and traced slow circles around the tip before closing her mouth around his thick weight in a long-drawn-out pull, her grip twisting and pumping in a slow, steady motion.

Jamie gave out a vicious curse, and he shifted closer, reaching out, to glide his thumb along the crease of her lips. "Easy, Sassenach, ye've got some mouth on ye, and ye're slowly killing me with it."

Keeping her gaze locked with his, Claire tightened her lips on a downstroke as she delved in for another hard suck, her right-hand continuously stroking and squeezing his sex. The taste and scent of him, all-male, earthy and raw, pervaded her senses and she couldn't get enough, excitement and arousal infusing her blood. His flesh jerked inside her mouth without conscious volition as she retreated with deliberate slowness, making his thighs crowd either side of her face.

He made a pained guttural sound. "Ah, fuuuck." As if he couldn't help himself, his hips rolled in, filling her mouth and forcing her head to tip back. The more his fist twisted in her hair, the more she took more of him, letting him penetrate her throat and listening to one profanity gruffly cussed after another. 

Her adrenaline spun like a hurricane out of control, the muscles at the juncture of her thighs tensing tight. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she heard him shout  Enough!  But she was too intoxicated from the taste of him and too far gone, focused only on pleasing him.

He yanked her up on her feet and sunk his teeth in the exposed curve of her neck. She swayed, clutching his shirt to keep her balance. "Jesus, Sassenach, whatever is in that grappa, I like it verra much." He kissed along her jaw, his stubble prickling her skin. "If I'd known ..." Hands shook as they erratically worked together, dragging the dress off her body before he divested the rest of his own clothes. "... I would've bought a crate days ago." She tipped her head back, and he brushed his lips down, all the way to her breast.

"And if I'd known you're a mouthful ..." she trailed off.

Jamie paused, stared at her for a beat and then suddenly burst out laughing. "Ah, I have a wee comic in my hands, have I?" He playfully scooped her up into his arms and looked down at her, sky blue eyes radiating with lust and reverence that moved her. "And a beautiful one too, to boot."

He gently laid her on his bed, and she blinked and watched him retrieve a condom at his bedside table, apprehension tickling her belly. Confidence and pride reverberating from his aura, he was magnificent in his nakedness. Being adored by this man, having him admit to things she never thought would pass his lips, turned a crank in her chest.

He lowered himself over her, stripping off her panties, so she lay naked underneath him. Running his rough palms over her skin, he stroked, licked and sucked until her breasts were so sensitive and she was squirming to get closer. She wiggled and hooked an ankle over his thigh, opening herself up.

He softly bit the underside of her breast and chuckled. "Oh no, Sassenach, it's my turn to play. I'm going slow this time."

A moan ripped from her lips. "Oh, no."

"Oh, aye ..."

He took his sweet time, his hands gliding up and down her body in soothing strokes. He circled his tongue over her sensitive nipples, ducked lower, and nibbled the hollow of her stomach.

His lips trailed kisses over to her inner thigh, his hands keeping her spread open for him to play. She attempted to struggle, but his grip only tightened, and he shot her a warning glance. Shaking under the delicious tension, Jamie was building up, her entire body ached to have him inside her.

Ignoring her aching core, his head dipped behind her knee, licking the erogenous zone there, before proceeding over to her calf. He seized her ankle and lifted it up high, so she was completely exposed to him. "I'd never thought I'd say this after these last few days of hell, but ye were ...ye are worth every second of the torture."

Desire licked at her nerve endings, and her face flushed as his eyes feasted on every intimate inch of her. "W-what are you waiting for then? Come and take what you want," she whimpered. She swallowed hard, when he pressed his lips to her inner ankle and then on the top of her foot, flashing her a mischievous grin in reply. "Oh, God, I can't anymore ...please ..." 

He lowered himself between her legs. "On second thoughts, maybe we should have dinner first."

She gasped. "Jamie ..."

Her sob dissolved in her throat as his tongue licked her swollen fold with deliberate slowness, and his mouth closed-in on her throbbing nub. His hot breath and rhythmic flicks teased the inside of her thighs, using his fingers to rub and stroke until she was rocking against those experienced lips.

Arching her back, her hand automatically reached for the back of his head. "Oh, Jesus, J-Jamie ... I'm going to ..." Her hips bucked and she broke apart instantaneously, giving in to the exquisite release that shook through her body.

Still reeling, the sound of condom wrapper ripping resounded in her ears, and she felt him hover above her, his cock poised at her entrance. "Look at ye ...so bloody perfect and mine," he breathed. "Please don't ever take yersel' away from me again. Promise me."

His demand penetrated her consciousness, absorbing the meaning he was indeed hers, to love and to hold, even though the idea still seemed far-fetched and so new. "I promise," she choked.

His cock drove into her slowly, stretching her to the limit, until she closed her eyes to fight off the urge to scream, the fullness of him sending shock waves of ecstasy through her whole body. Expletives escaped his lips as he surged forward with unrelenting determination until he was finally buried deep. "I love ye, Sassenach ...never felt like this before ...never felt this good ..."

His admission caused all sorts of emotions to swell up within her, and her body opened and received his hard length, locked him deep and demanded more. His fingers held hers and gripped hard as he began to move, gently at first, joining her rhythm as she rolled her hips.

"Mo chridhe," he murmured. "Don't hold back. Let me see all of ye."

His words blurred, lost under the thrusting rhythm of his hips, propelling her higher and higher. He gripped her body and lifted her to meet him, allowing her no room to hide. For one brief heartbeat, doubt penetrated through the fog, and she tried to resist, fighting the maelstrom of pleasure crashing through her, but it was if he sensed it and wouldn't allow it. With a deep grunt, he raised her arse higher and punched his hips. It was a raw combination of carnal needs, wild and primaeval, and she embraced the honesty of their lovemaking as perspiration ran down his face and her nails scored deep into his back until she exploded.

She screamed out his name, her head thrashing wildly on the pillow as pleasure crashed over and over in waves. With a growl, he slammed his hips and joined her, taking her mouth in a deep, soul-stirring kiss. A groan wrenched from Jamie's throat, as he began to convulse and she watched him, triumphant in the arch of his neck, the vein popping out of his temple, and the sweat beading on his brows. He was wrecked, a servant to his own body the way it shook and heaved as it emptied and dropped onto her.

With her open mouth pressed against his chest, she could only whimper, glorying in hearing the repeated chanting of her name in a litany.

"Mine," he rasped. And then, more insistently, "Ye're mine."

Claire's delirious mind picked up on the change in Jamie's tone when his strong arms circled around her, gripping her too tight. He continued to mutter her name, his breathing turning erratic. Strangely so, even in their worked-up state. With his face embedded in the crook of Claire's neck, she only had to push him slightly away to search his face. She found his eyes squeezed shut, her name on his lips. "Jamie," she croaked, kissing his clenched jaw. "Look at me."

Wounded blue eyes found her and trepidation flared in Claire's chest. She wriggled in the circle of his arms, giving him no choice but to slip from her body. He fell onto his side and pulled her in to wrap her in a bear hug. "Fuck."

"What's wrong, Jamie?" She brushed a hand down the back of his hair. "Are you alright?"

A muscle worked up and down in his throat. "Ach, Christ."

Doubt crept in, and a sudden pain scorched her lungs. "Are you already regretting this thing between us now?"

Jamie shot up and frowned at her, his breathing harsh. "First of all, dinnnae call what we have a thing."

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling confused.

"What happened just now was beautiful. It wasn't a thing." Jamie shut his eyes, missing the wonder that crossed her face. "Ye make me better, and I want to be better for ye." His arms tightened around her. "But I am jealous of every memory of yers that doesnae hold me, and every tear ye've shed for Frank, and every second ye've spent in another man's bed! How is that possible?"

Claire felt like she was breathing through a straw. "Are you saying you've never been jealous before?"

"Aye, I guess so," Jamie admitted, grazing their mouths together, his breathing back to normal. "When I was inside ye, I was thinking how beautiful ye looked. And for a split second, I thought of Frank having ye like how I had ye. And I didnae like that picture in my head at all. All of a sudden, I hated him and yer past. I ken I have nae right saying that to ye with my history and all."

Claire was shaken and amused at the same time. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This man had blown her perception of him out of the water and replaced it with someone real, instead of some mythos rugby sex-god she'd conjured. "Jamie, whatever feelings I have for Frank is long gone. He's destroyed everything himself, the memories and whatever respect I had left of him. He no longer has power over me. Nor us."

"Aye, I ken," he whispered, his chest lifting and falling. "It's the two of us now."

Time stood still, and a hush fell.

Moving slowly, Jamie got up and removed and disposed of the condom. Claire watched in silence. When he came back to bed, he cuddled her against him and pulled a sheet over them. With a sigh, she laid her cheek against his chest, breathing in his scent. He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"I just want to hold ye for a little while before dinner," he said quietly. "Is that okay?" 

Nestling into the warmth of his embrace, she held him tighter and closed her eyes. "Yes."

For the first time, since leaving Frank, Claire felt safe and cherished. 

She never wanted to move from this spot. 

The only person she wanted was here, and the serenity of that moment combined with Jamie's affection made her relax in a way she hadn't known was possible. Like she'd been tense and jittery her whole life and hadn't even known it. 

There was them now. And a big scary world existed somewhere beyond this haven, where bad things happened, and people manipulated other people for gain or fame. And turn people to something they're not.

She silently vowed she would stand by Jamie, no matter what the network threw at him.

But tonight there was only him and her. 

And she was happy and grateful for this peace.