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[thankspete]

Unfair | dob

Word Count: 4.7k Rating: M Summary: "If you cum right now I’ll never forgive you.” | Also on Ao3! Warnings: no discernible plot, just filth; light bondage, voyeurism, almost mutual masturbation, orgasm delay, fingering, begging, praise + dirty talk, oral (M+F receiving), unprotected sex (+creampie), established relationship, d/s dynamic-ish A/N: we’re getting right into it, so no preview above the cut <3 minors dni etc 

“You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” He looks displeased, but there’s a glint of smug arousal in his expression. “Take them off, angel. Le’me see.” His voice is sweet and the words flow from his mouth like honey. Your fingers continue the pace you’ve set, details of your actions concealed by your leggings. You don’t move to remove the article of clothing, but keep rubbing, keep circling your entrance at the thought and sight of him. A soft groan escapes your lips as you press softly into yourself. Dylan’s eyes don’t leave the black fabric around your core, watching it stretch and move with your fingers, pink lips parted but soundless. His hand ghosts over his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze for relief and letting go. Your shoulder presses firmly against the headboard as you feel yourself: so wet, so warm, and so ready for him. When tiny mewls begin to fall from your mouth, Dylan’s eyebrows furrow. “Fucking–take them off.” You know you won’t hear the end of it anyway, given Dylan’s incessant teasing combined with his explicit prohibition of finishing yourself off without his directive. It’s almost like he planned for this to happen. You’re fucked, but following his directions now may be enough to convince him you deserve to cum later. Your hand stalls in your underwear and slides up and out from your waistband. His eyes flick between your cunt, fingers, and face as he impatiently awaits your next move. The expression on his face switches to disbelief, wide eyes and clenched jaw, as you slide your middle finger into your mouth to lick clean. He says your name firmly, then, “I’m not asking you again. Quit fucking around.”

“I’m not… I’m not even touching myself anymore.” You feign ignorance as you slide your leggings and underwear jointly down your thighs. Dylan pulls them off your legs once they reach your knees, grabbing the center in an attempt to efficiently remove both articles at once and inadvertently coating his fingers in the mess you made. He inhales sharply when he realizes, eyes zeroing in on your core as he tosses the clothing on the floor. With big palms on your inner thighs, he spreads you wide open.

“Do it again. Show me.” Your pussy twitches at his words, willing and ready to comply with whatever he wants as long as it gets her filled to the brim. Your hand travels back down, first circling your hole to dampen your fingers. He crouches by the bed and you can feel his breath fanning coolly across your beating warmth. His eyes are steady on your fingers as they lightly brush along the length of your clit, just to the right to hold out and avoid the irresistible sensation of direct contact. You watch him watching you and twitch your hips in his direction. He scoffs at your futile, admittedly half-assed attempt to invite him to join. “I don’t think you deserve my mouth right now, baby.” His hands move from the underside of your thighs to where your femur jointed in your hip socket, veiny fingers holding you down to the bed with a tight grip. His thumbs massage your upper thighs in encouragement. Fine. If he wants a show, you’ll give him one. You switch from using the pad of your finger to the tip, focusing directly on your clit. You’re rougher, faster with your movements, back arching and chopped-up grunts falling from your lips. Dylan stands, hands moving up the curve of your spine as you bring yourself closer to the edge. He pushes your shirt over your breasts, licks his thumb and rolls your nipple with it. Goosebumps ripple across the skin of your stomach and arms. You choke on your breath and his eyes catch yours for a fleeting moment. You hope he can read your expression, begging for a kiss without subjecting yourself to any actual groveling. He does, it seems, and ignores it as he raises his eyebrows and shifts his focus to your pussy again. You need to feel full, but you don’t want to give him everything he wants. No, not when you’re jumping through hoops to get what you want. Instead of sliding your middle and ring fingers into the comfortable confines of your cunt, you press them flat against yourself. You’re glistening; you can hear the wet clickiness of your arousal as you use two fingers to rub hard circles into the entirety of your cunt. He begins to palm himself over his shorts tenuously, seemingly deciding his next steps.

“Fuck.” You grind into your hand, chasing the sensation of your skin deliciously tugging your clit from side to side. You’re close, whines and cries escaping with each shallow breath you take. “Dylan.”

As if it were on cue, his hand grabs your wrist and pulls it from your core. A gasp escapes your lips at the loss of contact and your tight little hole clenches in anticipation. “Don’t touch.” He drops your arm by your side. “And take that off,” he gestures to your shirt and turns to walk towards the closet. You pull the shirt over your head quickly and drop it on the floor by the bed. A belt buckle clinks while he rummages, sending a jolt up your spine at the thought. You’d been a little bratty, but mostly compliant all day. Certainly hadn’t done enough to deserve being spanked with leather instead of his hand. Dylan emerges from the closet with a thick brown belt, folding it into a set of adjustable handcuffs. Oh. You swallow as he approaches, the same untrustworthy glint in his eye as when he requested you touch yourself for him. “C’mon, angel.” He grabs your left wrist delicately and slides it through. He guides you to lean onto the headboard as he slides the right cuff through a gap in the posts and around your wrist. He pulls to tighten it around your wrists. “How’s that?”

You tug against them and they slip up to your thumb joints. “Tighter.” He reaches around you to adjust the straps, head over your shoulder and bare chest in your face. His erection is pressed into your lower stomach, just out of reach for you to attempt to pull the elastic of his shorts down with your teeth. Instead, you lean forward to lick a stripe on his pec and bite down softly on the skin. He pulls the belt taught in response, to the point your fingers tingle a bit.

“Better,” he says, pulling back and holding your chin firmly, but gently in his grasp. You pull your wrists to test the fit and nod. He finally kisses you, but it’s not under fair conditions. His mouth pulls you further and further from the headboard with each swipe of his tongue, eventually forcing you to break the kiss when your movement is restrained. You huff and he smiles wickedly at your frustration. 

“Need more,” you mumble. He shifts himself off the bed to push his bottoms off and shove them to the ground, dark brown eyes remaining steady on you. Your heart rate picks up as you look at him under heavy eyelids, in all his red-hot and leaky glory. Your mouth goes dry, tongue peeking out in an attempt to rewet your lips. It’s unfair you’re trapped here, hands and mouth kept just far enough from your favorite plaything. You’d do anything to get it. “Just a taste, please.” 

“You’ll get more. I promise.” He lies on his side, supported by his elbow on the far end of your large bed. He’s way out of your reach, too far to make you squirm and beg for him with his fingers, tongue, or anything else.

“Dylan, what are–” your confusion turns to horror as spits into his hand and wraps it tightly around his cock. He starts off slow, just enough speed to hear the soft swipe of his hand moving up and down his dick. Your jaw slacks and eyes go wide as the torturous nature of your punishment hits you. You gulp and you search the room for anything, anything to get you out of this position and throat-deep around him. Of course, there’s nothing useful on your bedside table, nor is anything else within reach. You glance over to the closet door, ajar and leaking a stripe of yellow light onto your bedroom floor. “Dylan,” you whine. The search is in vain, with your eyes finally settling on the only man who can free you, the one putting on this painful show. A thin sheen of sweat coats his torso; the muscles in his stomach flex as strokes himself. Your eyes follow the veins in his arms from his hands up his forearms and biceps, disappearing into his skin at his shoulder. He grips himself tightly, the strain apparent in his hairy forearms. The bubble in your stomach coolly spreads across your lower torso and you’re stuck squeezing your thighs together as you pull against the headboard. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him, knowing his thick, fast heartbeat is sending all his blood to his engorged cock. All you want is the feeling of his pulse deep within you; whether he is mercilessly fucking into you or gently tucking himself comfortably in your confines doesn’t matter. The breaths sloppily rush from your lungs as you attempt to stabilize your thoughts, which range from pure hatred to ceaseless depravity. You’re caught staring at the clump of hair on his lower torso, unable to handle both the direct sight and the sound of him fucking into his own fist. He shifts onto his back when he catches your eye, keeping his head turned to watch you watch him. His cheeks are flushed, eyes hooded and breaths deep as he switches techniques and squeezes his head tightly with every flick of his wrist. It’s one you’re familiar with, one you’d used just last week to make him cum in your mouth. “This isn’t fair.” The words rush out with a needy whimper. Your thighs continue to press together as he ignores you, bottom lip between his teeth. Gentle grunts escape his throat with every pump. Your vision blurs with frustrated tears. “Dylan.” 

“Keep saying my name like that and I swear I’ll cum for you right now.” You let out a strangled groan at his words, mind and pussy overloaded by the pumps of your heart and his hand. He’s fucking with you, and it’s working. “You wanted to see? The shit you do to me, fuck.” You chew on the inside of your cheek and tug against your restraints. Your body feels like it’s on fire, burning from your wrists to your cunt.

“Said I wanted to taste, Dylan.” Your voice is airy, breaths cut short and pulse pounding in your ears. 

 “Do you deserve a taste?” Your face twists in desperation. You’re stuck; you can’t gamble your own release by bold-faced lying and asserting your deservedness, but it’s not in your best interest to deny it either. No answer is the right answer and he knows it, eyebrows raised and corners of his lips curled into a flirty smirk. “Look at me,” Dylan grunts from the edge of the bed. He’s no longer paying special attention to his head, but keeping his hand still as he fucks upward into it. “I don’t wanna shut you out, baby. Don’t wanna tie you up and leave you there.” You’re trembling as you watch him, the anticipation of his pending orgasm causing your cortisol levels to spike significantly. “But you need to see what it’s like… for me.” He chokes the final few words out and you can tell he’s nearly over the edge. His left arm is sprawled out, hand finding and clasping to one of your ankles. 

“I’ve learned, I swear to fucking God, please–” You’re almost hysterical, pulling the headboard with you as you struggle. “If you cum right now I’ll never forgive you. Please, just–”

He’s quick in his movements, removing his hand from his cock and positioning himself above you. “Take it, then.” You don’t squander the opportunity, in case Dylan decides you didn’t learn, and take him in his entirety into your mouth. A quiet ‘fuck’ slips through his teeth. His hands cradle your head as you take him, all hollowed cheeks and full throat. He’s not forceful, just guiding you at the pace you set. “Just like that. You’re so pretty like this.” You swirl your tongue around his head, swiping along his slit until he’s choking on his breaths and gripping your hair. “No one else whose cock you beg for, yeah?” In response, you take him fully down your throat, ingesting leftover saliva to allow for the swallowing motion of your pharynx to stimulate him. Dylan whimpers when you pull back so his frenulum lands on your tongue. It’s harder without having access to your hands; you can’t pump and tug on him nearly as hard as you want. Nonetheless, you circle the tip of your tongue on the underside of his head and a series of expletives tumble from his mouth as he twitches into yours. You stick your tongue out, continuing to gently rub his sensitive spot and tilt your face up to look at him. His hazy eyes meet yours and his grip tightens on the side of your neck. “Oh my God… You’re fuckin’–” 

Hot, salty ropes adorn your tongue and the roof of your mouth, with some accidental overflow on your top lip. Dylan’s breathing is heavy and he pumps himself into your throat a couple of times before letting go. You maintain your gaze as you lick your lips clean, unsure how you’re allowed to proceed.

“Holy fuck, I love you.” He gets to your level, mouth on yours and fingers diligently swiping across your heat. You hum into his mouth, finally getting some semblance of what you want. “Lie down,” he says, pulling back for a moment before pressing even harder against your lips. He assists, comfortably readjusting you so your wrists won’t feel strain in this new position. His tongue travels from your mouth down your neck and across your shoulder as he inserts a finger, then two into your core. 

“Ah, Dylan,” you purr. He pumps slowly and carefully, but bites down hard on your breast. Your breath catches and he moves to press his pretty wet tongue against your nipple. 

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you were thinking about? When you couldn’t help but touch yourself?” His voice is level, words falling from his lips between soft bites on your stomach, hip, and thigh. His fingertips scrape against your g-spot and you clench tightly around him. 

“Something like this,” you sigh.

“What can make it better, angel?” He’s looming over you, looking at you with a tired warmth in his eyes. 

“Your mouth.”

“Could’ve guessed that one,” he chuckles. He’s gentle along the inside of your thigh, just hardly pressing his teeth into the thin skin. “You’ve been kind of a pain today, y’know.”

You look down at him in disbelief. “You started it.” He had moseyed into the kitchen while you arranged a chopped salad for lunch, bored of the Mets highlights video that had autoplayed on the television while he was checking his phone. You were forced to put the chef’s knife down when his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing his lips to your ear and making your face hot with a few choice words.

“Mm, don’t I usually?” He’s smiling up at you, continuing the smooth and gentle pace of his fingers.

“Dylan,” you start, wishing you could comb your fingers through his messy chestnut hair. There’s a playfulness in his eyes that signals you to change your strategy; needy whines would no longer get you what you want. “You haven’t made it easy for me, either.” His fingers press into the spongy tissue of your anterior vaginal wall and you squeeze around him. “You know I’ve been good enough. I’m here, still stuck to the headboard–I ate your cum, babe, please.”

His fingers still and a snort comes from his nose. “Yeah. Thanks for that, very hot.” He winks at you. “But, uh…” His hands find themselves back on your hip bones. “If we’re doing this transactional thing, which I don’t think is necessary, by the way… I think you have some catching up to do.” He leans over you, tip of his nose brushing against yours. “How many times was it yesterday?” His hands smooth over your sides and up to your shoulders, then down your arms to your restraints. You huff; he’s not going to make this easy. It’s never easy. “C’mon…” He fiddles with the strap, loosening and tightening the belt on your wrists over and over. His eyes bore into yours, steady and almost charcoal colored in the light. “How many times did I make you cum, angel?” You attempt to avert his gaze, but one hand grabs your jaw and holds it still. “It’s just us here, baby, nothin’ to be embarrassed about,” he coos. “You can tell me. I’ll let you touch me if you can tell me. Transactional, yeah? Like you wanted?”

“I don’t want it, Dylan.” Your voice is strained. He doesn’t say anything, still hovering over you, one hand on your face and the other on your wrist. A small smile paints his lips as he rubs small circles into your inner arm. You sigh. “Three.”

He wordlessly leans over you, beginning to undo the loops of the cuffs. His lips are on your ear, just like they were this afternoon. “I think you’re forgetting when we woke up at 5 in the morning.”

You gulp at his words, at the memory of groggy kisses and the quick and desperate scrape of his hips against yours. “Four.” Your voice is faint, just loud enough for him to hear. With a final clink, the belt slides from your arms and you wrap them around Dylan’s neck. The first thing you do with your newfound autonomy is pull his mouth to yours. He’s in charge, he’s always in charge, so you take this brief moment of power to get what you want. Your hands wander from the overgrown hairline on the nape of his neck to his collarbones to his biceps, finally free to feel him at your own accord. He grunts when you dig your nails into his shoulders and pull away, clamping his bottom lip between your teeth as you do. “Go down.” You push him away gently. 

He narrows his eyes at you, then lightly bites your cheek. “Bossy.”

The way he travels down your body is unceremonious, swiftly positioning your leg over his shoulder and pressing his hot, flat tongue directly onto you with no hesitation. You take a sharp breath at his targeted rubs and gentle pokes, so well-practiced in your pleasure that it’s nearly second nature. You tilt your hips down to grind directly on the firm center of his tongue, which pushes against you while your tight hole grasps and clamps around nothing. Now that you have use of your hands, you take advantage of it. Your right hand finds and tangles with the fingers pressing onto your stomach. The other runs through his hair, gripping the mastoid bone behind his ear to hold him hostage between your legs. The tip of his tongue wetly draws shapes onto your clit and if you weren’t so busy monitoring the volume of your squeaks and mewls, you could’ve sworn he was spelling out his name. 

“Good?” The vibration of his voice rattling through your core causes your hips to twitch up into him. “Mmm.” He doesn’t allow you time to respond, continuing to hum into you and clearly entertained by how good it makes you feel. His thumb presses onto your opening while he suckles on you, feeling the way it squeezes with the flicks of his tongue. “Guess I don’t need to ask.”

A groan of protest rumbles from your chest and you grip his hair tightly. “Shut up.” 

“I think you love it.” His middle finger finds a home within you, getting a firsthand account of the fluttering of your walls. You’re sensitive, riled up and ready to take him at whatever pace he wants. His demeanor only gets more confident as he feels how your body responds to him. “Oh, angel…” The condescension drips from his tongue slower than molasses. “I know you love it. I know you.” 

“Then you know what I really want,” you bite.

Dylan’s face and fingers pull back from you entirely, wholly unamused. “Get on your fucking stomach, then.” He spanks the underside of your thigh hard before removing it from his shoulder. You roll over, knees spread and stomach pressed into the mattress for him. His hands hook around your hips, lifting them to reach his, then lightly press into your lower back to regain the sexy curve of your spine. He uses a thumb to press himself against your slit, allowing you to rock against him. He is sufficiently lubricated by you within seconds, but you continue the pace of your hips just to listen to your muffled moans and the sound of your arousal spreading across your folds. “Atta girl.” He takes it upon himself to press in gently as you move against him, tip appearing and disappearing within you with every shift of your hips. He watches the way his bare cock gets coated in your essence, clearish-white and beginning to build up in the crevice between his head and shaft. “That’s good, baby. I know you can be good when you want to.” His spank across your ass is soft this time, unlike the frustrated one from earlier. You hum at the feeling, mumbling his name and taking him deeper and deeper until he decides to regain control.

You’re slow and steady, appreciating the way he stretches and fills you, working your way up to the delicious pressure that builds in your lower torso when he bottoms out. Your cunt uncontrollably grips to him with every pump and choked grunts reverberate from his throat. Dylan begins to lose his patience once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, keeping a strong grip on your ass and beginning to piston at his own, quicker pace. The sound of your skin is accompanied by your muted cries and his labored breathing. With each full insertion, his balls smack up against your clit, offering welcome and consistent external stimulation. Despite his grip on you, the force of each stroke pushes your knees further and further apart, pulling the connection of your bodies closer and closer to the bed. He switches his position when you’re finally parallel to the bed, lying overtop your back and pumping himself between your thighs. It’s not as deep as it was before, but you experience pressure from above and below, now that your pubic mound is pressed flat to the mattress.

“Ngh… fuck.” Dylan is pressing down on the back of your head, further muffling your moans as the ridge on the underside of his cock presses into your g-spot. He thrusts himself fully in you and holds it, feeling the way your pussy trembles and pulls at him. With a sigh he pulls out and releases your head, moving to sit up against the pillows. “Come here.” You straddle his lap while he reaches to grab the belt, carefully sliding down his cock until he’s filling you completely. You can’t help but move against him, circling your hips and distracting him from the belt momentarily. His lips find yours, then he says, “Wasn’t exactly what I was planning.” With the belt in his fist, he wraps both arms around your waist and pumps into you a few times. Your shoulder is in his mouth as you move against him, soft moans falling from your lips with every scrape of his pubic bone against your clit. He eventually forces himself to still his movements inside of you, pulling back to look at your face. His chest rises and falls quickly and you can only imagine the speed of his heart rate. It probably matches yours. Dylan drapes the belt loosely around your neck, putting the end into the buckle, but not tightening it. “How’s that?” He’s holding your face so tenderly, looking so lovingly into your eyes. “That okay?” 

You don’t look away from him, but bring your fingers up to the leather on your neck. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your hands find his on the end of the belt, holding them and guiding him to pull it tight.

Before it’s restricting your breathing, he pulls the long end over your shoulder to hang over your back. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay? Just squeeze my arm, baby, and I’ll get it off.” You nod and attempt to restrain yourself from kissing him. His big hands fiddle with the belt, pushing it up so it can choke you safely and once handled, you feel the cool buckle pressing flat against the nape of your neck. You start slow, rocking against him with no added pressure to your neck. You kiss lazily, just enjoying the feeling before throwing the belt into the mix. After a couple of minutes, he wraps the end of the belt around his fist and allows the weight of his arm to pull it taught. You sigh, enjoying the restriction and the feeling of his teeth on your collarbone. 

“Need you… need you t’cum on me, okay angel?” His free hand is on your ass, pulling you onto his cock rhythmically. “Can you do that for me? Need t’feel you.”

Your eyes are closed in ecstasy as you nod. “Tighter... harder, please,” is all you say.

“Okay, okay…” Dylan whispers. His grip on the belt tightens and he pulls down so your neck is tilted back slightly, exposed to him. Both hands are on your waist, holding you still as he moves his hips into yours at a quicker and quicker pace. His tongue is on your neck, pressed to your jugular while increasing the power of his thrusts. The veins are popping out of his arm and hand as he grips the belt tightly. Your moans are ragged, with limited air entering and escaping your lungs. You roll into his thrusts, beginning to feel the warmth of your impending orgasm spreading throughout your abdomen.

“A little tighter,” you whisper. He yanks lightly, finally cutting off your airways as you grind against him, back arching and breast in his mouth. Your hand rests on his arm, gently drawing shapes into it, but not squeezing. “Fuck, fuck…” you hardly make any noise when you speak. Dizziness builds in your head from the lack of oxygen similarly to the way pressure builds in your cunt. It’s almost unbearable, seems almost impossible. As the wave breaks, you dig your nails into Dylan’s bicep and press your mouth to his. He immediately puts two fingers between your neck and the belt, pulling it completely loose and allowing you to take a deep breath when you pull away from the kiss. It’s almost overwhelming, but you stabilize yourself on his shoulder, allowing him to do the rest. He removes the belt and tosses it on the floor with a clang. 

Dylan keeps pumping into you as you cum, feeling your cunt milk him into his second orgasm of the day. “So fuckin’ good for me… Ah–!” He stalls his hips and presses your body down to ensure he’s as deeply in you as possible. You feel him twitch, then attempt to press further into you before a warmth coats your walls. You clamp around him as he moves inside of you to fill you as much he’s able to. Your chests are pressed together, heavily breathing, and minds attempting to come back to Earth. Your open mouth presses to his, licking his teeth and finding his tongue. Despite the sensitivity of your cunt, you continue to ride him at a slow pace, his cum dribbling from your hole, down his cock and puddling at his balls. “Mm, fuck.” He firmly presses himself into you, twitching inside of you. “I wanna, baby, but I don’t think there’s anything left in me,” he mumbles against your lips. 

“Jus’stay.” Your arms wrap around his torso as you slump onto him. Your pussy gives a final good, hard squeeze and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Alright, angel.”

wow okay. anyone else sweating? thank you for reading! hope u enjoyed, as always feel free to reblog, like, and lmk what you think :D