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whowrotethenote · 3 days ago

Text

𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Summary: What starts off as a regular Spring Break attending Wrestlemania for Alana, takes an unexpected turn, landing her in a fantasy come to life. The Tribal Chief is in need of unwinding after his victory and he chose her.

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black Fem OC

Warnings: NSFW // Smut // Age gap // Profanity // Adultery

Word count: 8.9k (sorry lol)

Inspo: Biggest Fan by Chris Brown

A/N: This took way longer than it should've, but I'm actually proud of myself for finishing. Y'all don't know how many times I've started writing something in the past and never finish. There's drafts of unfinished everything on my laptop.

This is my first time posting my writing on any platform. I hope y'all like it. I tried to proofread as much as I can, but I'm honestly tired of reading it lol. I feel like I'm going to realize its shit and delete it all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any media posted. Credit to their respective owners.

I do not consent to any portion of my writing to be reproduced or used in any manner without expressed written permission of myself, with the exception for the use of brief quotations.

This story is completely fictional. With the exception of OCs, I do not own any characters in this story. The pictures posted are for the intention of face claims and imaginative purposes. The ideas, stories, scenarios, and characters you are about to read about are a mixture of my imagination, and inspiration from real life whether it be loosely based on people I know or public figures. By no means should you take anything a character thinks, says, or does, as my way of expressing my own interpersonal beliefs and thoughts. The characters are themselves and I am me. Two completely separate entities. I am not trying to promote any lifestyle, ideas, or agendas throughout the book. I am simply telling a story. If you cannot grasp that concept, do not read any further.

“I wonder if the Usos will come out.”

“Yeah, probably,” I respond to my roommate Demi, only half as concerned as she is. The Usos are the last thing on my mind. They’re her choice of poison. I’m here for one man and one man only.

I survey the crowd of strangers surrounding us. All in Bloodline gear waiting for the same thing. The Main Event. They all probably spent a fortune months ago just to be in the very same spot she and I stole tickets for.

It wasn’t on purpose. We originally had nosebleeds. We were lucky to even have those, seeing as we snagged them just days ago. The frail older man outside the doors waving a chunk of tickets in his hand, was an angel in disguise. He waved and waved until two tickets went flying into the thick crowd of people all pushing to just get into the main doors of the building.

Demi and I searched on hands and feet for those tickets that no one else seemed to be looking for. Imagine our disbelief seeing them all dirtied and stepped on by the door and they read floor seats. Not just any floor seats. The ones located directly next to the entrance ramp with a clear shot of the ring. Fucking jackpot.

don’t be acting all fanned out when he walks by either

I smirk reading the text my brother sent. Yeah, right. Maybe three years ago, a young Alana would’ve woke up tomorrow morning with no voice from losing my shit, watching the Roman Reigns walk by me. But it's not five years ago. I’m not a teenager in my room waiting at the TV with my golden glove on, throwing my one’s up and giving an acknowledgment he couldn’t even see.

Who am I fooling? That teenage girl, although buried deep, still lives within me. Otherwise I wouldn’t even be here. I wouldn’t have spent the two thousand my dad gave me to enjoy my spring break on a plane ticket to LA, a hotel and tickets to Wrestle-mania 39. I’d be like the rest of the Juniors at my university. Bar hopping in Mexico or in Miami half naked strutting down Collins Ave.

I go back and forth between scrolling on my phone, daydreaming, and loosely watching the matches that come. Before I know it, the moment I’ve been waiting for all night and damn near all my life rises to the forefront.

The lights dim and the first beats of the drums ring loud throughout the stadium, matching the acceleration of my heartbeat. This is really happening. He’s about to come out and walk right past me. Everyone around me pulls their phones out on the ready, accompanied by a roar of screams just as loud as the orchestra performing his music.

Too concentred on the entry way anticipating his figure, I forget I even have a phone. No, I need to feel this thoroughly. No middle man between me and this unforgettable experience.

We all wait in collaborative angst until his tall figure emerges and my breath gets caught in my throat. The aura and the energy he carries is all consuming, demanding the attention of every person present, even his haters. Solo and Paul flank behind him following his slow and steady pace until he comes to a hard stop.

The cameraman is dangerously close as he kneels to catch him from an angle down below. This is so surreal. On cue his pyro lights fire, upping the excitement from the crowd if even possible. Everyone is already losing their minds. Even Demi’s screams threatened to take out my right eardrum despite her main infatuation resting with the Usos.

His mesmerizing eyes scan the crowd with a slight nod of approval and then they land on…me? Time stills and I can’t hear the noise around me. Was he staring at me?

As much as I want to look around for confirmation that his eyes are indeed locked on me, I’m hypnotized. The slight scrunch of his brows and his dark pupils paralyze me in place. Jesus, Lana. Move. Smile. Wave. Shit, do something.

He’s fucking beautiful. Carved from stone. Kissed by the sun. Hair wet and hanging. Ula Fala draping perfectly around his neck. Full beard with a hint of greying. And his chest. God, his chest. His abs rippled perfectly. I’m scared to even blink, at the risk that I’ll miss something.

A thick pink tongue slithers out over his lips and I heat up from the inside out. My god.

In a flash he looks onward to the ring on the move again and the world returns to its original state.

I turn to face Demi whose eyes are wide like a saucer. “Biiiitch,” she drags out and we break into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, so I’m not bugging?” My brows dent.

“No. No, I saw it too,” she assures me. “That man was definitely eye fucking you.” My face heats replaying the scene back in my head. “That was so surreal. He’s so much bigger in person…” Her voice trails off once I get lost in my thoughts watching him hold his titles up in the center of the ring. He moves like a king. Like everywhere he goes he expects everyone to bow gracefully and fall at his feet. It makes him even more attractive than just what the eyes can reach. Fuck me. This is going to be a long night.

Demi got her wish. The Usos came out but their stunt didn’t last too long due to an appearance from Sami and Kevin. Somehow, Roman still took home the win. Still the champion. Still on top. Still the man.

The whole match, I could only half way focus on him and his god-like figure moving about in the ring. The other half of me was still stuck in the moment we shared during his entrance. Was he really staring at me?

Call me delusional, but I swear he looked at me two more times. Once during the match, when he kicked out at the last second of Cody’s pin. He struggled to his knees and rested back on his heels to scan the crowd. He stumbled to his feet, but not before those eyes bore a hole into mine for a quick second. Then again, when he won. He held up his titles, chest heaving up and down, then he looked my way with a squint.

“I can’t believe he still won,” Demi practically has to yell as we ease our way through the crowd to leave. “I was sure it was game over when Sami gave him the boot.”

Simultaneously we push through the back entrance doors and let them slam behind us. The slightly chilly night air of April hitting. No more screams. No more crowds. But the rush and aura of the night still lingers on us.

“My man doesn’t take L’s,” I tell her matter-of-factly with my chin up.

“I see,” she laughs.

We were smart. We took an Uber and told him to let us out from almost three blocks away. We follow that same pattern now to avoid the rush and traffic of everybody trying to leave at once. Towards the opposite way of the parking lot, away from the crowds, we start our journey to a quiet block to call the Uber.

“Wanna hit it?” Demi extends her hand that holds a lit blunt in between her fingers. I shake my head.

“How the hell did you even get that thing in?”

“Tampon,” she informs before pulling from it. Of course. She’s been sneaking weed into parties that way since we were freshmen.

“Excuse me! Ladies!” An authoritative calls from behind causing us both to stop in our tracks. I know that voice. “Excuse me!”

Demi and I lock eyes and at once we do a complete one-eighty to find him practically chasing us down.

“What the fuck?” I hear Demi murmur before he stops in front of us winded.

“Ladies,” he offers one firm nod. “My name is—’’

“Paul Heyman,” we finish for him in unison.

A smug smile adorns his chubby face. “That’s right.” He holds a hand out and we both just stare at it for a while. After several seconds of an awkward and shocking silence, Demi abruptly shakes his hand and I follow her lead, still trying to make sense of this moment.

“I’ve been sent to relay a message. The Tribal Chief has requested your services for tonight.”

“Services?” The line between Demi’s thoughts and what comes out of her mouth has always been very blurred.

“Yes,” he confirms. In unison we turn just our heads to each other with equal expressions of confusion and disbelief. “You see, The Tribal Chief likes the comfort of company while he’s on the road from time to time.”

“Company, huh?” I catch Demi’s smirk.

“Especially on nights like tonight. You know?” I raise a brow. “All the adrenaline, excitement, and energy from tonight’s match. It's good for him to uh… blow off some steam and unwind.”

I lose count of how many times Demi and I have to exchange looks tonight. Since I’ve met her we’ve always spoke a nonverbal language only we understand. A subtle head nod in the direction of a cute boy in the room, an eye roll when somebody says something problematic, or wide eyes when someone spills tea that we know we’ll have to debrief about later. Tonight, our eyes dance in a mutual agreement that can’t be any clearer. “Hell yeah,” I speak for the first time.

Demi tosses the lit blunt and we both advance to follow him. “Oh no, I’m sorry. Just you.”

“Me?” I ask with a finger to my chest. He grins slyly nodding.

“I— I don't know.”

“You don’t know?” Demi slaps my arm.

“I’ll need an answer now. Gotta get you to his bus before the real crowd emerges. There’s a few things you need to sign.” Sign? Oh god. This is getting serious.

“M—maybe this is a mix up. Are you sure he asked for me—”

“Bitch.” I’m interrupted by a firm push from Demi toward Paul. My eyes meet her wide ones that scream, “go.”

I look between the both of them. “You’ll be fine getting to the hotel?” I’m not all the way certain how tonight will go, but I have a feeling I won’t be seeing her until tomorrow.

“Girl, don’t worry about me. I’ll always get where I’m going. I should be the last thing on your mind.”

“We can wait until her Uber comes?” I eye Paul who eyes his watch briefly.

“Sure.”

So we wait in silence. The whole time, I bounce the idea of just saying never mind and pussying out, back and forth like tennis. Reading my mind, Demi would eye me and mouth “don’t you dare.” So many things can go wrong. I’m not even entirely sure I know what the hell Paul is talking about. Company? Services? It could mean so many things. Does he want to talk? A massage? Am I going to just sit there on his lap while he watches TV? What if he’s one of those foot guys? Is he going to touch himself while I sit there barefoot? Oh god, please don’t have a foot fetish.

With the exception of tonight, I’ve only ever seen him through a screen. Playing a character. I don’t know him. That’s the reality of it. Am I really about to follow a stranger, Paul Heyman, to accompany another strange man?

After checking that she has the right Uber and sensing she will be safe alone with him, I let her hand go. She gives me one final look before I let her shut the car door. “Make him remember you, bitch.”

Like a farmer leading its cattle to slaughter, I follow him as he leads me up the steep steps of the bus. A pit of something stirs in my stomach the deeper we walk. Equal parts angst and doom. Like the end of something and the beginning at the same time. We pass the driver’s seat. The floors are a shiny mahogany wood, matching the cabinets of the kitchen area we end up in. Although small, it feels grand. Definitely doesn’t seem like a space this chic belongs in a bus trailer. I guess only the best for the best.

In the midst of admiring the space, I look over to see Paul shuffling some papers around.

“Alright! So I’ll need you to sign this.” He separates one stack from the main one and slides a pen out for me. “Just something that says we’re not responsible for any items lost, damaged, or anything like that.” Everything in me screams to read the thick stack thoroughly before I dare sign my name on the dotted line. I do it anyway, because who even has time for that? Paul is already moving about like he has somewhere to be.

“And this here,” he pushes the signed paper out the way and slides another stack in its place. This one much thicker than the former. I raise a brow. “Don’t worry. It's just a non-disclosure. Nothing discussed, seen, or heard after you sign can be shared with any other persons.”

I look for the expiration date of the legal document and don’t find one. I search and my eyes land on the word indefinitely.

“Indefinitely, huh?” I think deeply about what I am about to agree to. I would only even want to tell Demi and a few other girls from our bookclub maybe that watch WWE. My eyes land on the seven figure lawsuit terms if the NDA is breached. I weigh my options. Spill tea and get fined or secretly get intimate with the man of my dreams…

The pen is smooth as it glides along the dotted line and I cap it before handing it back over to Paul. “Perfect.” He takes it and reorganizes the papers. I blow out a breath looking around again. There’s a grey curtain blocking off the rest of the bus, which I assume holds a bedroom of some sort and a bathroom.

“Is he already here?” I lean to try and get a peak of whats beyond the curtain.

“Nope. He’s doing a bit of press and wrapping some things up backstage. You’ll wait for him here. The driver is inside the building. Probably won’t be back until late tonight. Roman should be back soon.”

“I’m expected to stay here overnight?”

“Totally up to you. I’m sure you and him will figure it out. It’s not like him to spend the night alone though.”

In that moment it becomes clear what I am here to do. My heart lurches at the thought of just sharing a bed and possibly cuddling with him. His big muscular arms wrapped around me. The heat of his breath on the back of my neck and the hardness of his di—

“This wasn’t on the NDA you just signed, but,” he held his hand out between us. “I’m gonna need that phone before I leave.” Of course. I almost change my mind. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back as soon as it's all over. Definitely before you leave.”

Fuck it. I retrieve my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and he gladly takes it. I don’t need it anyhow. I can’t imagine being in the presence of him anyway and my phone stealing the show. I would forget I even had one.

It's not long before he’s packing everything up, preparing to leave me. A small part doesn’t want him to go. He served as sort of a comfort. Truth be told, my heart is in my ass.

He pulls the curtain back to reveal a chic bedroom set up. If I didn't know any better, I would think we are in a five star hotel and not a bus trailer.

Everything is a sleek grey with undertones of black. Glossy black wood dresser chest and a matching nightstand. Black wood bed frame and headboard. I run my hand along the dark grey duvet thats just as soft as it looks.

“I’ll be on my way. You’ll probably see me tomorrow or later tonight. If not someone else will give the phone back.” He waves my phone and turns, but not before pulling the curtain back to close.

I’m all alone now. Theres a flat screen mounted opposite the bed, but the noise won’t do anything but make me more anxious. I want to be able to hear everything going on.

I have the weird urge to go through his suitcase I see sitting upright by the wall. I shake the thought away knowing it's an invasion of privacy. I opt to go through the dresser chest instead. Its empty. I guess he didn’t get a chance to unpack.

I turn and rest my butt on it, crossing my arms. Minutes go by, and what seems like an hour passes before I hear movement outside the bus. Deep voices talking and then I hear heavy steps heading my way. I straighten up. No, too formal. I sit on the bed legs crossed. No, what am I? An escort?

I stand again and take my original place leaning on the edge of the dresser, just in time for the curtain to pull back. The sight of his large stature so much closer to me than he was in the arena takes my breath away.

He doesn’t say a word. Just looks at me and walks right by me to his suitcase. Then he’s in the bathroom. The sound of him peeing is loud followed by water running.

Big, tan and burly, he emerges again. He moves with power just oozing off of him, with an authority that just screamed, “I’m in charge.” It's not just a ring persona. Thats just him.

My eyes never leave his tall frame maneuvering around the small space as if I’m not even standing here. He kicks the Jordans off his feet to slip into his slides. His Nike hoodie comes off next and he tosses it on the small loveseat in the corner. His big and cut arms now in full view.

He relieves himself of the contents in his pants pockets. Wallet, keys, some loose change, and a small folded paper all fall on the dresser. He stops for a moment holding out his left hand. He twists the black band off his ring finger and places it in the drawer instead of on top of the dresser with the rest of his things.

Our eyes snag and I immediately shift my attention to my fingers. Twisting and untwisting. Picking at the acrylic on my nails. Anything but looking him in the eye after witnessing that. It's not too late to change my mind. I can stop this. I should, but do I really want to?

The sound of his slides lets me know he’s on the move again. I find him by a minibar area I hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Is it cold in here?” His deep voice cuts through the silence. It's then I notice I was holding and rubbing my arms as if I was cold. So, he is paying me some kind of attention. Truth is, I’m just trying to keep the goosebumps from a slight panic attack at bay.

“No, it's fine.”

“You feeling alright?” He twists slightly with a raised brow. Probably trying to figure out why I haven’t moved an inch since he walked in here. He’s so calm and cool. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the calmer he is, the more anxious I grow.

“Yeah. Y—yeah, no I’m fine.”

“You spoke to Paul already?”

“Yeah—yes,” I correct myself and clear my throat. I don’t know when it became so damn dry.

I was speaking to his back. The muscles still making themselves known even through the fabric of his black tee. Hair sleeked back into his signature bun. My eyes trail down to his ass. For a man, he has a nice one. I image how he’d look with nothing. The intimacy of him walking around with absolutely nothing on. The afterglow of sex on him. Rock hard abs and tribal tattoo as his only decoration. His manhood swinging freely, semi-hard even after just laying serious wood—

“Then I assume you know why you’re here,” his deep voice cuts my nasty daydream short.

I can hear him maneuvering glass, but I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing over his big frame. I was too shell shocked to move too much, afraid I might wake up from this fever dream.

“I do,” I answer him.

If my father knew when he gave his only daughter, his princess, money to enjoy her spring break, that she’d end up alone in the bus of a man who was over ten years her senior, the money would’ve never made it into my hand in the first place. I’m sure this isn’t what he had in mind, but truly this was the best way a young girl could enjoy spring break. An unexpected encounter with an older and wealthier man. My idol. I watched him on TV for years. Gawked at the screen. Liked thousands of edits on Tiktok and Instagram. Dreams of this very moment knowing it couldn’t possibly ever come true. And now here he was. Big in stature and energy right here in front of me. Talking to me.

Hell yeah, I know what I’m here to do. Even if he didn’t utter a single word and just stripped and nodded to the bed, I’d still get the job done with no shame. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t?

I can hear them now. But he’s married. He has a family. He’s old enough to be your father. They just won’t understand. Demi would. Demi would get it. She always gets it and she always gets me. Having lost her father and sister in a car crash just weeks before moving into the dorms for college, taught her that life was indeed too short. Live freely and take risk, because you don’t know when you won’t be able to. Shit, we’re all gonna die anyway. That’s the mantra she lives by. She’s different and that’s why I attached myself to her. She’s not like everybody else who lives like they’ve already walked the steps to heaven.

This was a more than seldom, once in a lifetime opportunity. I’d think about this night when I’m grey and depleting on my deathbed. I won’t let my head play tricks on me with the opinions of anyone who would do the same thing put in my position.

It's silent again. I hear liquid being poured for a second. I wonder if Demi made it back to the hotel okay. She’s probably blowing up my phone with a thousand texts trying to figure out whats going on.

So deep in my thoughts I don’t realize he’s making his way to me until he’s right here already. I have to look up to meet his gaze as he stares down at me over the bridge of his nose. He’s so big. He smells divine. It's a masculine type of musk with a cleanliness to it. My breath gets caught in my throat, realizing exactly how close we are. Our shoes were just shy of an inch from touching. My chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move.

Without any words, he holds a glass filled with brown liquid out closer to me. I look down at it with just my eyes. I’ve only been twenty-one for two weeks. Didn’t even get the opportunity to sit at a bar so a man could offer me a drink before trying to sleep with me. Who would’ve thought the first offering would come from him. Roman Reigns. Just at that thought, something in me ignited.

I took it, with the intention meaning more than just accepting the drink. I’m accepting the situation. Drawing a line in the sand and disposing of any doubt if there even was any left. I’m doing this. All complications pushed to the back. Tonight he’s not Joe Anoa’i, the married man with five kids. He’s Roman Reigns, undisputed WWE Universal Champion, The Tribal Chief, Main Eventer, Head of the Table…And I’m his biggest fan.

I throw the contents of the glass back, trying my hardest not to make a face from the burning sensation. He gets it down in one big gulp, putting me to shame, as I can’t help watching his Adam’s apple bob up and then down. He’s still just inches from me. I can see every hair on his beard. The slight greying ones are my favorite.

It's so weird seeing him in this state. So lax in his own space. No ring gear. No mean scowl. No Ula Fala around his neck. No championship belt around his waist. Just him. Black tee and sweats to match.

He takes the glass back and places them both behind me on the dresser top. Without warning, he’s on me. His tongue shoves past my lips saying to hell with formalities. No warm up. Straight to business.

“Mm,” I groan from shock. My natural instinct from being so caught off guard is to create some space, but a firm hand gripping the base of my neck keeps me in place.

He immediately asserts dominance, caressing every part of my body his hands can reach like he owns it. My neck, my shoulders, my back, and all the way down to my ass with a firm squeeze that separates my pussy lips. All the while still assaulting my mouth with his warm tongue. The tang of the alcohol still lingering. I fight for some control in the kiss but it's no use. He’s too much for me.

Everywhere his strong hands make contact, it leaves a spark until my whole body feels like it's on fire. Damn, that drink was strong. He pulls away from the kiss completely after one last soft, open mouthed peck. Like a magnet, my eyes find the thick bulge in his black sweats and I grow even more excited.

He drops to his knees in front of me and my breath hitches when his cold fingertips find their way up my shirt. A trail of kisses with a slight tickle from his beard follow up and up until I raise my arms for him to take the shirt off completely.

He’s back on his feet, turning me so my back is facing him. My breathing grows erratic. This is really happening.

“Lights,” his voice rumbles behind me. The bright lights turn off but there's little lamps set up in the small space allowing a cast bright enough to see still.

The black lace bra I wear is unhooked in a matter of seconds. Who knew when I put it on this morning, that Roman Reigns himself would be taking it off come night. With a firm grip on my hips he turns me back to face him.

Being well endowed up top from such a young age, my natural instinct is to cover myself. I always thought they were a bit big for my body. Standing at five foot seven, I was only one hundred and fifty pounds. A lot of my weight being carried up top from these double D’s. When all the girls in middle school were just filling in, I was a full D cup. I noticed how boys would stare. Older men too. It would make me uncomfortable. Always thinking of ways to cover them or make them appear smaller.

Avoiding eye contact is useless. His eyes are like magnets. Like the sun. Just beaming down on me, making them impossible to evade. So I stare back at him. We stay like this for a while. Just watching one another in silence. The air is smoky with lust and pure ecstasy.

His hands cover mine and slowly drag them down to reveal my breast. Round, surprisingly perky, with fully erect chocolate nipples, creating a contrast to my caramel complexion. They steal the show as his eyes shoot to them immediately while he breathes deep from his nose.

I can feel his energy shift from passionate to pure animalistic. When his entire mouth covers one nipple, I lose all my sense. My head rolls back and instinctively I bring a hand to the back of his head. A rough hand cups and caresses my breast while he’s still latched on. I watch in awe as his thick tongue sticks out to flick and play with it before sucking again.

He’s expertly unbuttoning my jeans with his other hand as I feel the snag of him trying to pull them down. I step out of my shoes to help him and reveal the black thong I am not even accustomed to wearing. I’m more of a a boy shorts or Walmart pack panties kind of girl. I just so happen to have forgotten to pack them and had to borrow a pair from Demi.

Bending down must be uncomfortable, since he grips the back of my knees to hike me up like I weigh absolutely nothing. He gives more attention to my chest, sucking until my nipples are sore, before his tongue is in my mouth exploring again. We’re moving now, I assume towards the bed. With every step, his erection rubs against me leaving me clenching and needy.

My back meets the unbelievably soft bed. I practically sink into it, watching him rear back to remove his shirt and show off that god-like body. Mountains and valleys of muscle in his abdomen placed perfectly like someone sculpted him with their bare hands. His bun hangs a little looser now.

His long fingers loop the waistband of my panties and we lock eyes. His stare is intense saying what his lips didn’t. I nod once. I’m doing this.

Almost in slow motion he pulls them down my legs, his eyes not leaving mine until the very last second. His attention is stolen by the sight of me down there.

“You’re soaking.” He uses the butt of his thumb to circle my clit. I jump slightly at the sudden contact. “That’s all for me?” He locks eyes with me again, expecting an answer and all I can do is nod frantically while biting down hard on my bottom lip. I can’t keep still. My body is on fire under his touch and his gaze. Eyes dark with passion, he squints watching me squirm every time he speeds the rhythm of his thumb up or down.

“Fuck,” I move my hips to the rhythm of his hand and grab one of my breast.

His thick tongue snakes out to lick his pink lips like he did earlier in the arena and I almost cum on sight. I look on in shock watching how he licks his thumb clean like he just ate Doritos and he’s discarding the remnants of them. A small groan of pleasure leaves his throat. I must be dreaming.

Climbing off the bed hastily, he tugs his pants and red briefs down at once and his dick pops up on recoil. My pussy clenches around nothing in anticipation for her next guest. Long, thick and tanned just like the rest of him. Mouthwatering. I never had the urge to taste something so bad in my life.

I can tell there’s no time for that though. He’s anxious now. I can feel the heat and need radiating off his body as if his stiff, vein-filled dick didn’t already tell on him.

With a tight grip on my ankle, he flips me over abruptly. Of course. Missionary would’ve been way too intimate for the circumstances.

On instinct I get up on all fours, deepening the arch to an almost painful degree so the view is nice for him. A smack so hard I jerk forward a bit, lets me know he’s satisfied with what he sees.

“All this ass,” he mumbles rubbing my behind in circles and even giving it a little shake.

He runs his long fingers up and down the slickness with ease. A groan leaves my throat as I grow impatient. I know I should want this to last as long as humanly possible, but I can’t fight this storm inside of me. I’ve wondered too long about it, daydreamed about it, and even touched myself in imagination before at the thought of this man I only knew through a TV screen.

I sway back and forth slightly waiting and listening to the sound of a wrapper and a slight pop. I have no time to prepare. The bed dips with the weight of him back on it. His thick head is at my opening, rubbing from my clit to almost my asshole. He only does this three good times before I’m practically ripped apart.

“Ouu!” A mix of a moan and something I’ve never heard from myself fills the room. He roughly takes the hand I thought I would use to push him and pins it behind me.

My throat goes dry. God damn. He’s fucking huge and unforgiving. Even with the slow pace he’s pushing into me combined with my wetness, it still feels like he’s breaking me apart from the inside out.

“Breathe,” he coaches. If possible a gush of wetness rushes out from the sound of his voice, bringing me back to the situation at hand. I have to make it work for him.

I bite down on the expensive grey covers as he pulls completely out and then back in. “Mm!”

He finds his rhythm, as he’s able to glide in and out. I try to match him once the pain subsides. I glance back to catch his full bottom lip caught between his teeth. The muscles in his chest working as a sheen of sweat starts to form.

I work harder now. The sight of him turning me on more than ever, opening me up like a wildflower.

“Let me hear you. I wanna hear you,” he grunts out almost desperately. The vulnerability in his rough voice drawing more heat and wetness from my core. I moan louder than I intended and shock myself. I’m not usually verbal in bed. Maybe a little cry or whimper here and there. This shit feels too good to be demure and delicate about.

I obey his order and release the moan that I didn’t even know I’m suppressing. It's not forced or fabricated. I genuinely feel so good in this moment I can only moan in response.

His strokes are primal. Animalistic like a lion in the wild taking whats his. And he’s so fucking big. In aura and size. The ways his body envelopes mine makes me feel smaller than I really am. His thickness stretching me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

“Oh, fuck!” I yell out. His hand tangles in my hair and stretches my gaze up, giving him full view of my desperate face.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he demands.

“Oh my god,” I pant. “It's so fucking good,” I struggle to get out. Every thrust steals my breath. He aims for the perfect spot every time and doesn’t miss. The smack of our bodies colliding ring loud in the silent space.

“Louder, baby,” he grunts diving deeper.

“I can feel you everywhere. You feel so good! Unh!”

“Atta girl.” The rumble of his voice sends a vibration straight to my core. My pussy clenches down from his words. To add insult to injury, a large and slightly calloused hand finds its way up my stomach to cup my breast. He pinches, twists and rolls my nipple around like he’s playing with a toy. As if my pussy isn’t becoming dangerously wetter already.

He removes the hold in my hair, trailing to my hip. His thumb presses down hard while guiding me back and forth on him. He gives me his all and I return the favor, using the unstable grip I have on the duvet to leverage me as I throw my ass back on him to catch.

The friction of his balls slapping sloppily against my clit built up enough pressure for a pending orgasm. With one strong hand still on my hip, he uses his free one to shove my face down to the bed making me lose any power I had in this fight.

His front collides with my ass, causing a consistent slapping. Anyone walking on the bus could easily tell whats going on now. His grunts, my pants, the consistent slapping. These were sounds of fucking.

“Fuck me! Yesss!” I don’t recognize myself. He’s awakening something in me. A familiar tinging stirs in the pit of my stomach. If he keeps on, it won’t be long until I explode all over his thick dick.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” I whimper in response.

He goes harder than ever before, his strokes less uniform and more wild. My mouth falls wide open at the intensity and perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

His hips continue to snap against me and if possible I feel him grow harder inside me. His fingertips dig into me so hard I know there’ll be bruises tomorrow.

“Urghh!” A guttural moan erupts from him, urging me to fuck him through his release even as his movements slow. I study his facial expressions and record them in my brain to take home with me as a souvenir. He stretches his neck with eyes shut tightly. That fucking tongue. Whisking out to flatten over his top lip before he bites down on his bottom one. Chest heaving up and down with the muscles in his abdomen flexing with every breath.

“So fucking good,” he says more to himself. He delivers another hard spank to my ass before I feel him ease out of me, hissing slightly at the sudden disconnect and absence of him. The pit of my stomach heavy still with the lingering orgasm that was cut short.

I’ve had sex with guys before and never got to finish. I’d leave unsatisfied and almost regretting the encounter completely. This is different. I’m here for him. I’d fulfill his needs and drain him even if it meant I left with nothing but a wet ass.

The bed creaks a little, letting me know he got up completely. Just when I think the night is over, my mouth falls open at the sensation of his hot mouth covering my entire pussy. His tongue slithers out to graze my distended clit.

“Mm, shit,” I cry out, shaking. I’m so sensitive. Any little sensation sends my body into overdrive. Every lick draws a mini release. When I finally get to the edge I know I’ll fall completely apart. The hair from his beard tickles me, only heightening the sensations. I feel nothing but pure pleasure.

A strong hand comes down on my left ass cheek and I whimper on impact. He squeezes it in a firm gip to move me up and down in a steady rhythm on his flattened tongue.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I cry. I let my head hang down unable to keep it up any longer. All I can do, feel, and think about in this moments is how good he feels to me. Guys my age always need a crash course on how to eat pussy. Always too much spit, they couldn’t find my clit, or the torturous shaking of the head like a rabid dog.

Roman is eating me like I’m his last meal. Touching spots I didn’t even know a tongue could reach. With the way he’s grabbing me and rocking me on his stiff tongue, he’s damn near fucking me with it. We’re two complete strangers. The power dynamic is completely off. He’s the billionaire WWE superstar and I’m the underpaid and overworked fan in college. Somehow he’s still taking the time to worship my body and give me his all as if he’s the one who has something to prove.

The dick was mind-blowing. Oh, but the head will be the death of me. That same tongue he wags and flicks on live television, exploring me. Tonight is an absolute fairytale. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he could read my mind. He knows exactly what I want and how I want it.

In only a matter of seconds a tornado of heat swirls in my core. I rock back and forth on his mouth before he sucks relentlessly on my sensitive bud nonstop.

“Unnhh!” An uncontrollable shake erupts from me as I see stars. The world goes completely blank for a while as I relish in the ecstasy of my orgasm granted by the Tribal Chief himself. Tonight, I acknowledge him and his mouth.

“Oh my god,” I whisper in between pants coming to my senses. A small laugh leaves my throat at the way I just lost myself in front of him.

I turn to find him in the middle of snatching the cream covered condom off. His big dick bobs up and down from the snatch, fully erect again.

We got one night only.

Like a lioness on the prowl in the jungle, I eye him, crawling to the edge of the king bed where he stands. I stop just in front where my mouth aligns to his thickness, still eyeing him, making sure it's okay. He nods giving me the green light and even holds the base in his strong hand to bring it closer to my lips.

I let a glob of spit form and fall freely on his thick mushroom tip. Before it can drip, I catch it on the underside and lick from tip to base, to the tip again. His hips push forward impatiently.

“Open.” It's not a question so I don’t test him. His face is hard, but his eyes are desperate. As soon as my lips part he shoves himself all the way in like he owns my entire mouth. He draws out and I hallow my cheeks to keep it in as long as possible until I release him with a pop.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” I oblige and he slides his heavy dick across it gathering spit before pushing back down my mouth. A pulse grows in my clit again. A revival from seeing the remains of the mess I made in his thick beard.

“It's so good,” I tell him while slapping it on my tongue for him, earning a groan. The skin of him is soft as he stretches my mouth. I can taste the salty precum and I cant wait for the rest of it. I never trusted a man to release his bodily fluids in me in any way. It kind of grossed me out. Oh, but not tonight. He can release wherever he chooses.

Using one hand to twist in tandem with sucking him, I study every change in his expression, every pattern of his breath to record what feels the best to him.

“Go ‘head,” he urges in a low guttural tone. “Just like that. Take it all the way down. Don’t stop, babygirl.” That’s all I need to hear.

The eye contact is so deep it puts me in a trance. In a constant and fluid motion I take him in and out, making sure he reaches the back of my throat every time. In and out. In and out. In and out. The sounds of spit and his heavy breathing take charge of the room.

His body stiffens a bit and I can feel him get harder on my tongue. Deliberately I take him as far as possible and stay there until I make myself choke. The contracting of my throat around his thick head sends him completely off the rails. He breaks our bubble, throwing his head back to the ceiling.

“Mmm. Aw fuck!” A strong hand grabs a fistful of my hair, making it impossible for me to move. Thick ropes of his warm cum shoot down my throat and all around my mouth. “Ahh,” he groans out with a hiss jerking his hips forward a few good times. “Oh my god,” he blows out a heavy breath and lets his hands rest on his hips.

I’ve made dean’s list, honor roll all throughout high school, medals of all kind from track decorate the walls of my bedroom in my parents’ house. None of those accomplishments compare to the sight I just witnessed. The Roman Reign’s spent and sexually exhausted because of little ole me.

“Let me see,” he whispers while watching me suck the last of it out. I open wide and stick my tongue out so he can see his cum on it. His massive dick jumps at the sight. I feel the warmth of some of it seeping out and running down my chin.

“Don’t move,” he instructs. Like his obedient soldier I stay put, only looking around with one good eye. The other shut tight so none of his cum could invade it.

When he emerges again, he has a wet cloth in hand. Gently but still firm he wipes my face clean of him and my tears that slipped from the intensity of choking. Who knew the Tribal Chief is into aftercare?

A squeal escapes me from being lifted into the air and over his broad shoulder. I’m hanging as he moves us about. There’s no way that any of this is happening.

The shower starts to run. Even upside down I can see the marble walls and waterfall shower head raining down.

“You care about your hair getting wet?”

“No,” I strain to get out with his shoulder digging into my stomach. He chuckles so softly, I would’ve missed it if I couldn’t feel it from being on him.

He fucks me for hours in the shower. My back against the wall. In the air. Face against the tiles. On all fours again. I guess older men carry more stamina. The water cascaded from up top on us both while we locked tongues passionately, breathing in each other’s air.

He was in control the whole time. He flipped me every way he wanted me to go. Told me what to do, never asking. I’m left a wet, quivering mess at the end of it all.

I don’t realize how exhausted I am until he asks if I want to stay the night. I think about getting dressed and leaving, but the bed is impossibly plush and the sight of him naked still is impossibly sexy. Even better than I imagined.

I threw cuddling out the window once I seen his stoic nature and how he moved about earlier like this was just a business deal. He lays in the bed, still naked on his back with muscular arms slightly stretched. I lay on my stomach beside him trying to get comfortable. My heart thumps out my chest knowing he’s still here with me and so accessible. We literally just violated each other in the nastiest way possible and now we lay in bed not even touching.

His heavy breaths and light snore fill the room in no time creating a sort of white noise for me descend to.

Some time in the middle of the night, I don know how, but those light snores ended up right in my ear. His breath hot on top of my head, accompanied by a very heavy arm over my hip.

My heart smiled and my face caught fire. It was so intimate. Undeniably my favorite part of the night. I shifted as quietly as I possibly could, inch by inch, until I was facing him. His bun fell completely apart, leaving his dried and fluffy curls cascading over his shoulders and the plush pillows. I make out what I can in the dark of his sharp features. I never seen him so relaxed. In the ring he’s always tense, always painted with tyranny and stress, but not right now. He almost looked like an angel.

I make a mental image of him. This is exactly how I want to remember him— how I want to remember this unpredictable night. This is the part that even if I could tell it, I don’t think anyone would even believe me. Burying my face into his chest, I breathe deep, trying to imprint his smell into my brain like ink on the skin.

The loud voices of men I don’t recognize, serve as my alarm clock. Eyes still shut, flashes of the night before and the soreness of my body, warp me back to reality. Oh, shit.

I shoot up from the pillow to scan the room, keeping the covers close to my naked chest. His suitcase still stood in the corner, but there’s no trace of him. No water running. His slides are gone. The thick curtain shields me from the rest of the bus.

6:07 AM flashes on the digital clock of the now cleared nightstand.

It's not like I was expecting this grand goodbye. The man didn’t even say hello to begin with. I thought I could at least see him one last good time before I leave LA for good.

I attempt to rise up, but something crinkling under my palm stops me. I grab the sheet of notepad paper and rub my eyes before reading the contents of it.

Thanks for last night. Joe.

Short and simple. In the corner, two cursive R’s as a signature. I neatly fold the paper and drop it into the pocket of my jeans I find folded on the chest dresser. I want that paper with me everywhere I go. A small piece of the whole experience. A subtle reminder of the best night of my life.

Every part of me wants to feel bad. How could I let him just use me for his needs for a night and then discard me like it was nothing? I should feel low. Cheap. But thats not even the kind of girl I am. The glass is always half full to me. Last night was arguably the best night of my young life. I’ve never known such adventure. I never felt more free—more like a woman.

I flop down in my bed still in a daze from the events of last weekend. Demi had a million and one questions. The NDA kept me from spilling. Even if I could’ve given her a play by play of how the night went, I don’t think I would’ve. Demi and I have the kind of bond thats void of any secrets. But that night with him was so special to me, I want to keep it for myself. Something for just me and him. It makes it more magical when only we know what happened. I just want to soak and bathe in it all.

Light as a feather I stare at my ceiling, letting the flashbacks corrupt me. The feel of his soft skin. The smell of him. His grunts and pants. His hands caressing and gripping my ass. The warmth of his tongue filling my mouth. I blow out a breath getting worked up again. I’ve touched myself countless times since that night to the memory of his voice and his energy. He was just so damn good. So much man and dominance, but still gentle and cautious.

After we touched back down in New York, it was back to reality. But that didn’t stop me from walking on a cloud. You can’t tell me shit. I fucked the Roman Reigns. Drained him and swallowed the aftermath. How’s that for a spring break?

It's currently Thursday. Almost a week has passed since the greatest night of my young life. I just got back from the gym with Demi. She’s pressed me every single day since that night, but I won’t budge. The confines of the NDA keeping me stronger than I normally would be.

Tomorrow is Smackdown at the Garden, but it's unclear if Roman will even be in attendance. He takes so many hiatuses it's really a hit or miss with him. Demi asked if we should go, but I declined not wanting to spend the money I didn’t have just for him not to even show.

A sudden dread came over me knowing that he couldn’t possibly be thinking of me even half as much as I’ve thought of him. He’s overridden my mind. I’ve obsessed over every little detail and played it back a thousand times, while he doesn’t even know my name.

Paul said it himself. He likes the comfort of company while he’s on the road. All the times he has to travel for work, cameras in his face nonstop, and body aching from all the physical exhaustion, I’m sure he always has to release the tension somehow. I’m just one of many.

I knew that going into it. I know I’m not special, but I tried my hardest to be. I did what I could to make him remember me. Constant eye contact, carrying out his every command, throwing this ass back as hard as I could and sucking the soul out of him.

A violent buzz of my phone snaps me out of my daze. I feel for it on the covers. My eyebrows dent at the message notification from a number I don’t recognize, causing me to unlock it.

Your Tribal Chief has requested your services again.

Sorry for that long ass disclaimer lol. It’s a shame I even have to include that, but I literally watched a girl argue with an author on here about promoting adultery and cheating simply because a character was cheating. Like, it’s a story?? It’s a fictional character?? Don't read it??

If you read it or even just parts of it, I really am appreciative. Pls like or reblog. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Please remember I am an artist…and I’m sensitive about my shit lol 💋

banner credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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joelalorian · 3 days ago

Text

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Six

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 5769 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Feelings are acknowledged. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. We finally have the sexy times! Dry humping, oral, unprotected P in V.

a/n: work is going to be insane this week so posting this earlier than planned. hope you enjoy the hell out of it!

Series Masterlist

Chest heaving, Dave slowed to a walk along the frigid shoreline, his sneakers crunching the frozen sand. The steady roar of waves crashing ashore, the sharp bite of winter air in his lungs, none of it was enough to clear his mind. Five miles at an eight-minute pace – usually enough to drown out the noise in his head – had done nothing to shake you from his thoughts.

He kissed his stepdaughter. Slept with his stepdaughter…

Not in the biblical sense, but literally. Last night, with you curled up in his arms, was the best fucking sleep he’d had in years, decades even. You’d fallen asleep against his chest, breathing even and steady, and your body fitting against his like a puzzle piece he didn’t know was missing.

Dave barely remembered slipping into your bed. What started as a conversation about everything you’d been holding in – your frustrations, your doubts – had ended with his arms around you, his lips pressed to your temple as you drifted off. He hadn’t thought about Lisa once.

Why would he when he had you in his arms?

The pull to stay in bed with you that morning was almost impossible to resist. Even as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtained windows high up the wall, bathing you in the softest, ethereal glow, he hesitated to leave. You looked so peaceful, lips curved into the faintest smile, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dreamed. It tugged at his hardened heart, leaving him almost afraid to shatter the spell.

Dave kissed your forehead tenderly before finally slipping out of the room, his bare feet soundless on the carpet. He knew if he didn’t leave then, he never would at all.

And now, here he was, running himself ragged in the biting cold, trying to convince himself this wasn’t insane. That he could somehow compartmentalize this – keep the lines clean and unblurred. He was good at that, compartmentalizing.

It had been a survival skill, his ticket through years of bloody assignments and moral ambiguity. That skill alone kept his marriage to Carol stable and his family safe with plausible deniability of his darker deeds.

But this? Starting something with his stepdaughter, of all people? This was uncharted territory, even for him.

The vibration of his phone pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Fishing it out of his pocket, he frowned at the screen. Roger.

Roger: How did your meeting with Anna go?

Might as well get this over with, Dave thought, hitting the call button instead of texting back.

Roger answered on the first ring, his voice oily with satisfaction. “Anna’s taken with you, York. Insisted on moving the meeting to tomorrow instead of next week. You must have made quite the impression.”

Dave exhaled slowly, willing his irritation to stay buried as he ignored Roger’s remarks. “Fine.”

“I’ll book a hotel for you,” Roger added cheekily. “Give you a chance to… cement her trust after the meeting.”

Over his dead fucking body, Dave thought. Jaw tightening, he responded in an icy tone, “I prefer the café if you don’t mind.”

Roger’s chuckle echoed down the line, grating his ears. “Suit yourself, York. Shame to waste this opportunity. Women like her don’t grow on trees.”

This conversation was already his blood pressure to rise. “I’m a married man, Roger, or did you forget that fact?”

“We’re all married men, York. What the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s a motto to live by,” the other man replied.

The truth of that statement was not wasted on Dave as his thoughts immediately turned back to you. Hitting the end call button without saying another word, the conversation ended as abruptly as it began. Dave clenched his phone in one hand, the waves crashing endlessly behind him matching the sudden building headache.

By the time he reached home, the kitchen buzzed with life. The smell of pancakes and syrup mixed with the aroma of coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter – your laughter – rising above the exuberant chatter of his daughters.

Dave’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile, but it faltered when his gaze shifted to his wife.

Lisa sat at the island, nursing a steaming cup of coffee in an oversized mug, her expression sharp enough to cut glass as she glowered at the scene before her.

The girls were doubled over in giggles as you balanced a piece of pancake on your fork like a morsel from the finest meal. “I swear, I could eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!” you declared with infectious enthusiasm.

Dave leaned against the doorway, taking it all in. The warmth of the scene, the way his daughters looked at you like you hung the moon, giggling maniacally – they hadn’t done that with anyone since Carol passed – and the way you smiled as though nothing bad could ever touch you. It was a stark contrast to the cold knot in his stomach from everything pressing down on him.

Lisa’s eyes flicked to him, her glare shifting from you to him in a blink. “Nice of you to join us,” she muttered with a razor-sharp tone.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he straightened. “Went for a run,” he said simply, walking past his wife to grab a glass of water.

“I can see that,” she shot back. “How very… productive of you, especially after a night out with the boys. You must’ve had fun. You didn’t come home last night.”

Dave didn’t take the bait, his focus was on draining the glass of water before refilling it. He grabbed a pancake from your plate with a wink as he strolled from the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to shower.”

It was going to be a long fucking day.

You were just clearing the table from breakfast when Dave returned dressed in dark jeans and a light blue sweater, his socked feet silent on the wood flooring as he entered the kitchen.

You noticed him immediately as if sensing him before hearing or seeing him. His soulful eyes flickered toward you with something unspoken shining in them. It wasn’t just the casual acknowledgment of your presence. It was deeper than that. A thread of awareness that tightened whenever you were near each other. You knew because you felt it, too.

Grateful that your mom left to go shopping and the girls played with Ranger in the living room, you enjoyed the private moment with Dave. You didn’t have the chance to talk to him about last night yet. You wanted, needed to, but suddenly the nerves kicked in.

“Have a good run?” you asked keeping your voice light and easy, though your hands stilled where they were piling dirty dishes next to the sink.

“Yeah,” Dave replied, his tone much softer than it had been with your mother earlier. “Beach is damn cold, though.”

You hummed, biting your lip as you glanced at the girls – they were glued to the TV as another Disney movie played – before stepping sideways to stand closer to Dave than necessary. You needed to feel his heat, feel him. The proximity made your pulse quicken, a rush of heat blooming in your chest and traveling upwards toward your neck and face.

“Did you want coffee?” you questioned, a breath above a whisper, tilting your head as you reached for the nearly empty pot. “I saved the last bit for you.”

Dave turned to you, eyes like raw umber searching yours before shaking his head, his damp hair flopping over his forehead with the motion. One large hand reached up to sweep his fingers through the locks, slicking it back into place. “I’m good, thanks.”

For a moment, it felt like the kitchen faded around you.

Neither of you moved, the air between you charged with something you both felt but hadn’t dared name yet. Your fingers brushed his as you moved the coffee pot, the brief contact enough to send a shiver down your spine while dumping the remaining contents down the drain.

Without uttering a sound, Dave helped you rinse and load the soiled dishes and flatware into the dishwasher. As the last plate was placed in the bottom rack, you turned to grab a dish towel, only to find Dave standing closer than before. His broad frame filled the small space between you and the counter, his proximity sending a flicker of electricity through the air.

“Thanks for helping,” you said, voice soft yet filled with nerves. Your limbs were practically trembling with the electricity arcing between you and him.

Dave’s lips quirked into a small, almost hesitant smile. “Didn’t seem fair to leave you with all the cleanup after you did all the cooking.”

Folding the dish towel over the edge of the sink, you avoided his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I’m not used to it,” you replied lightly.

“Doesn’t mean you should be.”

When you looked up, his eyes were on you – dark and steady, filled with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

“Dave…” you started but lost your words as he stepped ever closer.

His hand reached out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before his knuckles brushed your cheek. Your breath hitched, the skin-on-skin contact causing the world to tilt on its axis. His hand shifted, the pad of his thumb running along your jawline in a gentle, grounding touch.

The last of your resolve, and nerves, wavered under his mesmerizing gaze, the nearness of him making it nigh impossible to think clearly. “What are we doing?” you asked, voice trembling along with the rest of your body.

Dave’s lips curved into the faintest smile, yet his eyes remained steely. “Something we probably shouldn’t,” he admitted, his voice a deep rasp barely louder than a rumbling whisper. “But I don’t know how to – don’t want to – stop.”

Neither did you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was equal parts hesitant and fervent. The dam finally broke after months of increasing tension and building feelings.

His hands cupped your face, grounding you as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing lightly against yours and his broad form blocking any view of what you were doing from the girls. You melted into him, your hands roaming the solid warmth of his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his sweater.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. But, damn, was it intense. It was deliberate as if Dave wanted to memorize every detail of the way your lips moved against his, the faint hitch in your breath, the way your fingers trembled slightly as they fisted in his sweater. He moved you backward along the counter into the hallway until you both stood in front of the door to the basement, never breaking the dizzying kiss.

He tasted of mint and something so uniquely him when you licked into his mouth. The flavor had you melting against his body.

When Dave finally pulled back, you followed, lips eager to continue. He rested his forehead against yours, staring into each other’s eyes with a level of intimacy you never experienced before. Both of you were breathing heavily, the charged silence between you broken only by the hum of the dishwasher and the girls’ laughter in the background.

“This is crazy,” you murmured, though you made zero effort to step away.

“It is,” Dave agreed, his solemn voice rough but steady. “But it doesn’t change how I feel. How I can see you feel about me.”

Heart thundering in your chest, his words sinking in with a weight you weren’t sure you were ready to carry… yet you couldn’t, wouldn’t disagree.

“What do we do now?” you asked with a barely audible voice, dazed eyes darting back and forth between his own.

Shifting you slightly to the side, he opened the basement door and turned his head toward the living room. “Girls! We are going to do some work in my office. Stay here and finish the movie, we’ll be back up in a bit.”

“Okay Daddy!” Alice called out before quickly laughing at something that happened onscreen.

You stared at him in wide-eyed shock. What was happening?

“Come on,” he said, chuckling softly at your expression before taking your hand to lead you down the stairs.

He wanted to take you to your bed instead of his office as he told the girls, but Dave knew you had no guarantee of the time or privacy needed for what he wanted to do to you, for what you deserved for your first time together. So, he bypassed your bedroom with nary a glance, leading you into his office.

His dark eyes searched yours, pupils growing larger by the second as he closed the door behind him, turning the lock with a subtle ‘click’.

“So, this is the mysterious, private office of David York,” you snarked, attempting to downplay your nerves as you glanced around the room.

A large mahogany desk occupied one wall upon which two large monitors and a laptop sat. A worn leather loveseat backed up to another wall. A large gun locker, safe, and file cabinet were placed along the wall opposite the door. There were no windows and just one exit.

“I wondered what you were hiding in here.”

Dave watched as your fingers ran along the metal of the gun locker. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere safe to keep records and weapons without nosy little fingers touching things they shouldn’t.”

Your hand snapped back as if stung and he chuckled. You wanted to see the arsenal in that cabinet, imagining weapons of all types, but you didn’t pry. Not this time. You sighed, wondering what came next. Picking up on your hesitancy, Dave took your hands in his.

“I need you to know something.”

You swallowed thickly, curious and hopeful yet fearing what he was about to tell you, and merely nodded for him to continue.

“I didn’t plan this,” he began, quiet but firm. “I didn’t plan to feel this way about you. But I do and I don’t want to stop.”

Your heart raced as his words sank in. Opening your mouth to respond, Dave continued before you could utter a word.

“This thing between us – it’s not going to be easy. You know that, right?” Again, you nodded, and he added, “There are things… I haven’t always been a good man and there are things I can’t, won’t tell you. If you don’t want this or decide at any point that you don’t want to continue, you’ll have to be the one to end it, understand? I won’t be able to.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. The world narrowed to just the two of you, alone in his basement office, and everything else – the doubts, fears, complications, his marriage to your mother, all of it – faded into the ether. Something a lot like that four-letter word you knew it was too early to acknowledge or give voice to fluttered in your tummy like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I won’t be able to, either,” you admitted breathlessly, the admission causing an almost feral look to cross Dave’s face before he pounced.

With quick, desperate movements, his hands slithered around your wide hips, pulling you with him as he fell backward to sit on the leather loveseat. Strong hands guided you to straddle his lap, thighs snug against him as the hardness of him pressed against the crux of you. The feeling was divine.

“I wish we had time for more than this,” Dave murmured against your lips as he kissed you soundly. “But with the girls upstairs and your mom due home at any time, we can’t risk it. Not if I want to take my time with you.”

It was the truth, and you knew it. However, it didn’t stop the wave of disappointment from washing over you. Fighting to keep it from showing on your face, you ducked your head into Dave’s neck where you pressed open-mouth kisses against his salty skin.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make each other feel good, Firecracker,” he insisted, catching on to your disappointment. “We’ll just have to keep our clothes on and be quick about it, is all.” His fingers digging into your hips, Dave ground you down against his cock, the jeans doing little to hide just how hard he was, how hard you made him.

The fullness of him pressed against you just right, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. “Ahhhh, Dave,” the sound slipped from your lips like music to Dave’s ears.

“Like that?” he purred in your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Making me feel like a fucking teenager again, dry humping like this. Use me, Firecracker. Make yourself feel good.”

Dave’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to caress your breasts as you moved your hips against him. Muted mewls and moans filled the air in the room as you ground yourself against him, the layers of clothing doing little to dampen the pleasure as your clit rubbed along the seam of his jeans and the hardness beneath it.

It didn’t take long for you to approach the edge with Dave’s fingers plucking and twisting your nipples, his mouth alternating between nipping at your neck and licking into your mouth, the hard press of him rubbing against you deliciously.

“Does that feel good?” he questioned, his hands moving to grip your ass after one more sharp tug at your nipples. “Are you going to come for me? You’re so wet I can feel you through all these layers between us.”

Dave was right, you were drenched and only getting wetter as your orgasm approached at breakneck speed.

“Come on, my little Firecracker. Come all over me. Make me go upstairs with a visible wet spot on my jeans and have to change.”

The thought of him walking past your mom with the essence of you staining the front of his pants sent you plummeting over the edge, coming with strangled moans as you fought to keep quiet lest the girls hear something.

“That’s it,” Dave encouraged, his hands on your ass guiding you to move against him faster, harder. He gazed at you with blown pupils. “You’re so beautiful when you come for me. I love the feel of your juicy ass in my hands as you move on top of me.”

“Dave!” you cried breathlessly against his mouth as his hips jolted upward and you felt the hard pulses of his cock beneath you as he came in his pants with a growl.

“You just made me come in my fucking pants, you vixen,” he said once you both caught your breath again. His voice held more teasing than bite and you chortled giddily.

“That’s fucking hot,” you replied, sitting back on his thighs to get a glimpse of the mess you made together.

“Think so?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” you admitted emphatically. “No one’s ever done that for me, so it’s extra special.”

“I’m glad I could be of service then,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like having firsts with you.”

The sudden slamming of the front door followed by the clacking of heels on the wood flooring sounded above you. The two of you froze, staring wide-eyed at each other.

“Shit.” The bubble burst with the knowledge that your mom arrived home and you slid from Dave’s lap. “You should probably get upstairs before she comes down here looking for you.”

“Yeah,” Dave sighed, staring at the mess staining his lap before standing. He tugged his sweater down fruitlessly, the material too short to cover much. Giving up, he flashed you a bashful smile. “Not sure how I’m going to explain this if she sees me.”

You shrugged. “Just tell her to mind her own damn business,” you retorted, spinning on your heels to go take a shower.

Dave stood watching you longingly for a moment before deciding to make a run for it. He could hear Lisa talking to the girls, the sharp pitch of her voice carrying down to the basement, and knew he could sneak out to the garage and then into the laundry room to change really quick.

The rest of the day was a bit awkward, neither you nor Dave was sure how to act around one another in front of your mom and the girls, trying your best to act as you normally would. Everything felt exaggerated after your moments together that morning. So, you focused mostly on the girls and Ranger, playing fetch and chasing each other around in the chilly backyard while Dave stayed inside with your mom, talking about work, holiday preparations, and other trivial matters.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from gazing at you during lulls in the conversation, longing to be out there with you and his girls, but he didn’t want to push his luck with Lisa. She was up his ass enough already; he didn’t want to give her more reason to nag him.

The next day, Dave entered the café, careful eyes scanning the room until he spotted Roger and Anna seated at a corner table, looking cozier than business associates normally do. Roger’s grin was as smug as ever, but Anna’s expression was sharp, her green eyes assessing Dave as he approached.

“You’re late,” she said smoothly, her tone edging more toward playful than accusatory. “It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

Dave blithely ignored her comment, sliding into the seat across from her. “Traffic,” he replied curtly, his tone betraying no emotion.

Roger leaned back in his chair, swirling the coffee in his cup. “You’re lucky Anna was so insistent about moving this meeting up. There’s been movement.”

Dave’s jaw tightened, yet his expression remained neutral. Movement was good, but he mustn’t let his eagerness to bring this op to a close show. He had to play this carefully to maintain his cover. “What’s the latest?”

Anna leaned forward, her red-painted nails tapping against the table as they inched closer and closer to where Dave’s forearm rested. “We’ve made progress. My counterparts have vetted you and like what they saw. The deal with our…” she glanced at Roger before continuing, “mutual friend is moving along nicely.”

“Mutual friend,” Dave repeated, his tone skeptical. “You mean the military asset you’ve been dangling like a carrot? The one you refuse to tell me anything about?”

Anna’s predatory smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Patience, handsome. All will be revealed in good time.”

Roger chuckled, clearly enjoying the building tension between his new friends. “She’s right, York. You don’t rush these things. Especially when you’re the new man on the team.”

Dave’s gaze flicked to Roger, barely contained irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He knew he was walking the knife’s edge, yet still he pushed. He needed to establish that he was not fucking around. “And what exactly are we waiting for? Another week of vague updates? For one of the agencies to catch onto what we’re doing?”

Anna’s green eyes glinted with amusement, but her tone turned icy. “Careful, Dave. Impatience can get you killed. Or worse, caught.”

The tension at the table turned palpable, but Roger cut through it with a lazy smile. “Relax, York. We’re all on the same team here, working towards the same goal. Isn’t that right, doll?”

She didn’t respond immediately, clearly unamused with Roger’s nickname, her gaze remaining locked on Dave. Finally, she leaned back, a devilish smile gracing her painted lips. “Of course. We all want the same thing.”

A chill ran down Dave’s spine, his mind racing with possibilities as he forced a tight smile. They – or at least Anna – were clearly holding something back, and he needed to figure out what it was. Fast.

As the conversation shifted to logistics for their next meeting, Anna checked her calendar as Roger rattled off dates and times, Dave’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, his focus remaining on the business at the table, even as growing unease oozed in his chest.

The meeting ended with Anna brushing her hand over Dave’s arm as they stood to leave. “Until next time, Handsome,” she purred, her gaze lingering on his before darting down with a satisfied smirk as if assessing his bulge. He wasn’t the least bit hard, but he was a shower, not a grower, and he knew it looked impressive. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but Roger ushered her away.

Dave waited until she and Roger were out of sight before pulling his phone from his pocket and heading for his SUV. The message sent blood rushing south as he raced home.

After the exhilarating time spent together in Dave’s office, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You were distracted all day Sunday while he was out – a work meeting that couldn’t be avoided, or so he told your mom. You took the girls and Ranger to the park for something to do, staring at your phone while they played.

You must have typed out six different messages, deleting each one before settling on a sexy photo you took of yourself in bed yesterday morning. You wanted to have something to commemorate the first night you and Dave spent together and a photo of you in a barely-there tank top, hardened nipples peeking through, bedhead, and a sleepy smile the morning after was the perfect way to do it. You couldn’t wait to see how Dave reacted to being sent such a pic.

The delay in his response made you regret sending it though. Chewing your nails down to the quick, your eyes darted between where the girls played and your phone, willing Dave to respond. Just when your nerves were at their peak, the message status changed to ‘read’, then dots appeared as he – finally – typed a response.

Dave: Don’t tease me, Firecracker

You: I’m not teasing I’m giving you a preview

Dave: Oh?

You: You know where to find me when you’re ready

Shoving your phone in your pocket with a satisfied smile, you called out to the girls and Ranger. It was time to go home.

Once the girls were home and settled, you slipped off to your room to pamper yourself. You took a long, relaxing bath with the lights off and a lavender-scented candle burning. You plucked and shaved all the necessary bits, exfoliated, and moisturized until your skin gleamed. Night settled over the house by the time you went back upstairs to heat leftovers for dinner.

Your mom went out with some friends, Dave informed you before putting the girls to bed leaving Ranger to watch over them, his eyes communicating what his words didn’t say. Tonight, he was yours.

You ate quickly, knowing you’d need the fuel, and cleaned up before heading down to your room to wait for Dave to join you. Part of you couldn’t believe what was about to happen. The other part of you dithered over your clothing.

You had on an oversized tee shirt and a robe, no bra or panties. Not exactly the sexiest attire for your first time with Dave, you thought.

If the goal was to get naked, you wondered how much clothing mattered.

There was an element of sophistication to Dave. Would he prefer you in some sexy negligee?

A sudden idea struck you and you darted up the stairs to the laundry room to grab one of Dave’s dress shirts before rushing back down to your room. You just finished buttoning the shirt where you could when Dave came down the stairs.

The startled yet appreciative look in those big brown eyes told you the shirt was the right choice.

“Fuck,” he breathed, stepping slowly into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him, just in case. “You look fucking gorgeous in my shirt.”

Neither of you could stand it anymore, the heat between you growing too overwhelming to fight or hold off. You crashed together in a clash of lips and teeth, tongues tangling as you licked into each other’s mouths like it was your last meal.

“Do you have any idea how often I’ve thought of you… of doing this with you?” Dave’s raspy voice rumbled against your neck as he peppered the sensitive skin with open-mouth kisses.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” you admitted breathlessly. “I, uh, even touched myself to the thoughts.”

A fire blazed in those dark eyes as he growled, “Tell me.”

Powerless against him, you did just that. Telling him about the very first time, how you knew your fingers would never compare to his, how you imagined he would touch you with equal parts softness and unbridled need, how you thought he would rip your orgasm from you with fierce, single-minded determination, how you would beg for it to never, ever end. But you didn’t mention anything about watching him in the hot tub. You weren’t sure why.

Dave’s mouth roamed your body as you spoke, tugging layers of clothing off both of you as he went. When you were both naked, soft heated skin pressed against slightly rougher heated skin, you added, “Another time, I used my bullet vibrator as I imagined going down on you. I came to the phantom feeling of the weight of your cock on my tongue, the pulsing of it as you came down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ, Firecracker,” he groaned, pressing his hips down more firmly against yours. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you teased, drawing a rumbling laugh from deep within Dave’s chest. “No, we cannot,” he agreed, slithering down the length of your body, large hands squeezing your wide hips and thick thighs as he went, delighted that he finally gets to touch you like this.

“Let me show you what I’ve thought about, my sexy Firecracker.” He looked up at you with a boyish grin, hair flopping down over his forehead when he settled with your thighs over his shoulders. “I need to know how you taste.”

Words failed you as Dave tipped his face down, dark eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe through your folds with the flat of his pink tongue. Holy fuck. You never saw anything so fucking sexy as this man staring at you from between your thighs while he feasted on your pussy.

Lifting his head ever so slightly, he moaned. “I’ve imagined this so many times, wondering what you’d taste like.” Another lick, a little suckle on your nub. “My imagination is nothing compared to the real thing. You are fucking delectable.”

Dave ate pussy with the same intensity he maintained during missions – single-minded focus, expert precision, and refusing to stop until the objectives were met. You came three fucking times on his tongue, his fingers providing an assist for the last one. Bordering on overstimulation, your eyes watered, and tear tracks ran down your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Aftershocks were still rolling through you as Dave slithered up your body to kiss you, his chin glistening with your juices. His tongue dipped into your mouth, feeding you the taste of yourself mixed with his unique taste and you moaned softly against his lips.

Your palms glided down the smooth muscles of his shoulders and back, grabbing handfuls of his ass to press the full weight of him against you as the kiss continued. You loved the feeling of his broad chest pressed against your breasts, his hands gripping your hips and caressing your face. When you snaked one hand between your bodies to feel the thickness of his cock, Dave pulled back.

“No, sweetheart. I’m too worked up. This will be over before it starts if you touch me right now,” he admitted in a raspy, stuttering voice. “I want to come in your pretty little pussy the first time, ok?”

Overwhelmed with need, you nodded, and Dave grinned down at you. “Cock drunk already, are you?”

Swatting at him, you whined, “I just need to feel you. Please, Dave.”

He paused, staring down at you. “Do you… should I wear a condom?”

“No. I want to feel all of you. I’m clean and on birth control, I promise.” You pawed at him, trying in vain to pull him onto, into you fully.

“Me, too,” Dave admitted, sinking into you, finally.

Ohhh. You could barely breathe as he fed you his cock, the sheer size of him taking your breath away. There was a slight pinch of pain at first, your body out of practice when it came to penetration, but the way Dave moved against you, inside you, had you moaning in no time.

“That’s it. There’s my little Firecracker,” he encouraged you when your moans increased. “It’s ok, you don’t have to be too quiet.”

“Dave,” you drew out his name in a long mewl, fingertips clawing at his back when he hit that spongy spot inside you. “Fuck. I didn’t know it could be this good.”

He kissed your face – forehead, cheeks, and the tip of your nose – before smiling down at you with glazed eyes. “It’s all you, baby. You feel so good like you were made for this cock. I could live here, inside this tight fucking pussy for the rest of my life.”

Dave continued thrusting his hips in the perfect rhythm, occasionally grinding his thumb down against your clit as the wave of pleasure began to crest. He talked you through it with debauched praise, letting you know how good you made him feel, how he never wanted this to end. You came first, crying out his name like a siren song until his thrusts stuttered and his cock pulsed, filling you with ropes of cum as he moaned your name in your ear.

Afterward, you cuddled together – it still surprised you how much Dave liked to cuddle with you – talking and chuckling in low voices, enjoying the private moment. Eventually, Dave cleaned you and himself up before going upstairs for a snack. Your mom came home, tipsy from a night out, and Dave helped her up the stairs to bed before telling her he had work to do in his office.

When he reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Dave veered towards your room and climbed back into bed with you, curling his body around yours. He was right where he wanted to be.

tbc

Chapter Seven

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