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slutforsilverfoxes · 1 year ago

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Knockin' Boots

[A/N: No, your honor, you don't understand. I need this man biblically 🫦 Y'all can thank McGarrett, Luke Bryan, & my dreams for this lil bit of filth 😇 Enjoy!]

"So get this-" You pause to finish off your margarita before replacing the now empty glass on the table and engaging your hands in the reenactment. "This man saunters up to me, smirks, and says- and I shit you not- The boss must be quite the bitch to keep these boys in line, huh? Good thing I like ‘em feisty."

"No fucking way," Melissa squeals in delight. "What did you say?"

"That it's a good thing my man does…too…" you trail off, licking your lips as your mouth goes dry at the sight of said man entering the dimly lit restaurant. He’s sporting tight gray slacks and a black fitted button down that leave little to the imagination, his toned thighs and thick biceps on full display. Everything about him screams confidence, and his mere presence steals the air from your lungs.

"Fuck me," you whisper under your breath, all of the blood from your brain draining south like a horny teenager who can’t get enough of her high school boyfriend.

He and his best friend take their time approaching your table, and then the brunette finally stops before you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze and flashing you a dazzling smile that somehow gets your panties even wetter. "Hey, pretty girl," he murmurs in that smooth-as-honey voice of his, and dammit if you don’t melt from the attention.

"Commander," you all but purr, wondering if Five-0’s immunity and means would extend to you if you were to partake in some public indecency in this very crowded restaurant. A spark of brilliance hits you- quite miraculously, actually, given the butterflies taking up residence in your belly and lower still- and your eyes flash with mischief. "Did you find my lipstick in your truck? It wasn’t in my bag this morning."

"Let’s go take a look," Steve plays along, delicately taking your wrist and helping you up. The simple touch sends a flood of heat through your veins, and you tighten your grip on his hand.

"Skipping dinner and going straight for dessert, hm?" Melissa questions around her straw with a devious smile, much to her boyfriend’s chagrin who voices his displeasure with a groan.

"Just, uh-" You spot your empty glass and shoot her a wink. "Feeling a little parched, is all."

"Time to pay up, Daniel," your man grins, his fingers trailing down your spine until they ghost over the curve of your ass then gradually making their way back up. You suppress a shiver at the caress, unable to process his words until the exchange is made.

"What’d you bet this time?"

"You’d find a way to compromise my virtue within ten minutes of us getting here," Steve explains smugly.

"I gave you a generous twenty," Danny adds.

Using one of Steve’s belt loops to tug him closer, you playfully growl, "You’re a menace."

"Guilty," he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you feel the dull ache between your thighs flare to an insistent throbbing. "C’mon now," he insists, pulling you along so fast you can barely throw a "Start ordering without us!" over your shoulder.

You make it to the Chevy in record time, your excited giggle morphing into a moan when Steve slaps your ass as you clamber into the back of the truck. "You didn’t wear this sexy little dress to work this morning," he comments.

"And you weren’t wearing these My eyes are up here pants, McGarrett," you fire back, reaching to undo the button before the door has even clicked shut behind him.

You use your thumb and middle finger to outline the ridges of his cock through his pants, and he groans out an appreciative, "Fuck, Y/N."

"Oh, you'd better," you moan, leaning down to nuzzle at his bulge and nearly going dizzy from the scent of him alone.

"Easy, baby, easy," he laughs, twining his fingers in your hair to pull you back and get a good look at you. The way he's managing to hold it together while you feel like you're falling apart at the seams just serves to turn you on more, your domineering nature in the boardroom melting into a pliant little subordinate in your boyfriend's capable hands. He swipes his thumb over your bottom lip and you draw the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and humming in delight at the taste of him. "Tell me what you need," he says, his voice husky when he recognizes just how desperate you are for him.

"Need to suck your cock," you plead, no trace of shame evident in your breathy confession. You pull him in for a kiss that's all lips and teeth and tongue, a stuttered moan escaping you when Steve's fingers easily tug your panties aside and slide between your folds, the pad of his middle finger brushing over your sensitive clit.

"Is that what you were thinking about when you ruined these panties? Sitting there all innocent, talking to Melissa about your day, and dreaming about my dick so far down your throat you can't breathe?" He circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, and you cry out, arching your back to chase the sensation. "I asked you a question and I'm not going to ask you again," he growls, his tone taking on that authoritative quality he uses for interrogations that makes you weak in the knees. He follows with a sharp smack to your aching cunt that forces out a, "Yes! Oh fuck yes, Commander."

"Such a good little slut," he murmurs proudly, the combination of degradation and praise sending another wave of arousal down south.

"Steve," you whine, digging your nails into his thick thighs.

He soothes you with a soft, "I know, baby, I've got you," and shifts into a seated position so you can kneel next to him in the back seat. He eases his slacks and boxer briefs down enough for you to reach your prize, and you descend on him like a woman starved.

One hand snakes further down to massage his balls while the other strokes the base of his cock and you wrap your lips around the tip, taking short pulls and moaning as the taste of him bursts across your tongue. "Oh my god, baby," he half laughs, half moans when you lower your head to fully sheathe him within your mouth. Steve's hand rests possessively on your ass, giving an appreciative squeeze to your flesh each time your fingers tighten their grip. "Gonna go back to dinner absolutely cock drunk, aren't you?" he teases, delivering another smack to your bare pussy that has you moaning out a garbled, "Mhm," around his length.

Pulling off him momentarily, you instruct, "Keep doing that," between pants before going back to work. He lets his middle finger slide lazily between your folds, alternating between pressing knuckle deep inside you and smacking your heated cunt. There's no rhyme or reason to his actions, so each crack of his hand against your flesh has you reflexively squeezing his balls and moaning around him, causing his hips to stutter and forcing him even deeper down your throat.

"Taking me so well, pretty girl," he praises through a moan, his sweet words a sharp contrast to the delicious pain he's inflicting on your pussy. "Gonna give you just what you need, reward you for being so good for me."

You can feel his powerful thighs flexing with each thrust of his hips and hear his breathing growing more ragged, telltale signs that he's close. You pull off of him with an obscene sound, sitting up and licking your lips while you continue to stroke him with your hand. "I want you to cum inside me."

Steve's eyebrows draw together in confusion, and it would be an adorable sight if he wasn't grunting and groaning while fucking up into your fist in the backseat of his truck. "Of course, baby, but I'm close so-"

"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. You adjust yourself until your back meets the truck door and spread your legs so your glistening cunt is on full display to your boyfriend. "I want to walk back in there knowing I'm full of you."

Something akin to a whimper falls from between his lips, and Steve closes the distance between you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing so deep inside you that you can literally see the bulging of your lower belly. Your eyes roll back at the sensation, and your walls tighten around him as if trying to draw him in even deeper. "Give it to me, Steve," you cry. "I want you to fill me up. I want you dripping down my thighs, want everyone to know what a needy fucking slut I am for you," you continue babbling, trying to keep your eyes open and focused on how tightly his features are drawn, how hard he's biting his lip and the predatory look in his eyes while he's fucking into you like an uncaged animal.

"You look so beautiful when you're full of me," he grunts, and his heady words coupled with the brush of his thumb over your clit sends shockwaves through you, every nerve in your body firing at once as a powerful orgasm rips through you and leaves you breathless and quaking beneath him. Through the haze, you can feel Steve's hips stutter against yours while your walls squeeze him, and then he's delivering on his promise to give you just what you need. Chest heaving with each breath, he continues rolling his hips until you've managed to draw out every drop of his release, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

Steve's hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you close, his tongue licking into your mouth until you're a moaning mess for him all over again. "Good girl," he breathes, and you let out a whimper, absolutely and utterly cock drunk.

Steve eases your legs off his shoulders, adjusting your panties and dress before massaging your calves gently to get the blood flowing again and leaving a trail of kisses along your dewy skin. Then he focuses his attention on your upper half, running his fingers through your hair and pressing his lips to your forehead with a murmured, "I love you, baby girl."

"Love you more," you answer in a daze, tilting your chin up to capture his lips in another kiss, this one slow and sensual. "But now I'm really hungry," you declare, and Steve laughs as he tucks his dress shirt back into his slacks.

He opens the truck door and helps you out, his hand coming to rest on your hip as you make your way back inside the restaurant on jellied legs. "Ten bucks says they're in the Camaro right now," Steve challenges, guiding you into your seat and looking pointedly at the empty spots across the table.

"No way," you scoff. "Too small. Twenty on bathroom."

"You're on, babe," Steve responds with a grin, tipping his beer in your direction. Leaning closer, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip and murmurs with a click of his teeth, "Shame we couldn't find your lipstick, though."

"I know," you sigh, then add, "It would look so pretty on you, too." Reaching into your purse, you pull the tube out from the zippered compartment with a sly grin and relish in the way Steve's eyes flash at your innuendo. "Guess we'll have to try it out later."