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wackyharpy · 2 months ago

Text

The Chase

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. CNC. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Inspired by seeing the viral "foot pursuit challenge" going around, you and Will decide to put a little twist on it and make it your own naughty game.

A/N: 😅 I can't even defend why I wrote this I just want Will to chase me down in tac gear and wreck me so badly 😩

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It was innocent enough. Until it wasn’t.

The viral “foot pursuit challenge” piqued your interest as soon as you saw it going around, and when you asked Will to participate, he was more than game.

Benny and his wife were there too, having driven out to a back road with plenty of space, both brothers talking complete shit at how easy it would be for them to chase you girls down, their years of intense military training bringing out their confidence.

Hearing Will’s thundering footsteps approach quickly behind you sparked something you didn’t know thrilled you, and even though you didn’t dare look back at him, you knew he was on you in seconds without barely breaking a sweat.

He had grabbed you around your waist and hoisted you off the ground, spinning you into his arms where you kicked and laughed beyond your control, but what he said when he caught you made it turn into something you wanted to explore further and made your giggles die out quickly.

“You’re lucky we’re not alone right now or you’d be getting it.”

His breath was hot on your skin, tickling your ear so that goosebumps exploded all over your body from head to toe, your throat feeling dry and tight.

Will’s large hand had a grip on your breast while his other smacked you on the ass, a low grunt sounding from his heaving chest as he looked at you with a darkness in his eyes.

He pulled his bottom lip in his teeth and glared at you, and you swore your heart stopped when you felt his erection rub on you as he hovered against you, barely releasing you from his hold.

And that’s how you found yourself here.

It was usually quiet this time of day, the hiking trails that wove through a wooded area the perfect spot for it, both of you relieved and excited when you had pulled in the parking area and saw no other vehicles there.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he confirmed again, but the way he slapped the velcro strap on his tac vest with his long hand to secure it in place was all the convincing you needed had you not already been one hundred percent on board with your game.

“I’m sure,” you nodded, feeling your arousal build and your pussy already aching.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and raised his eyebrows as if giving you one last opportunity to reconsider, and when he slammed the tailgate of his truck shut, you jumped.

“Okay then,” he sang, glancing at his watch. “I’m giving you a thirty second head start once we get in there.”

You bit your cheek to stop yourself from grinning, and when he looked at you and shook his head with a smirk on his face you squirmed, already feeling your heart pounding in your chest from the excitement of it.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he chuckled, pressing off his feet in the dirt trail and into a slow jog.

Passing no one on the trail so far after about ten minutes of a light warm-up, Will eased to a stop and looked around, happy that you were seemingly alone.

His veins were already bulging in his neck and his forearms, his blood pumping through him without even exerting himself yet, and your mouth watered knowing how good the taste of his sweat was and how gorgeous his face looked when it got all blushed whenever he ran.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

A nervous laugh blew out of your lips, your skin feeling tingly from a rush you knew hadn’t even begun yet, and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Run fast,” he warned, his tone even, and the expression on his face told you you didn’t have a chance in hell.

Unable to say anything, you swallowed hard and took off, sprinting as fast as you could in order to try to give yourself more of an advantage and make the most of the fleeting thirty seconds.

You were a good runner, but after a bit you knew you would be slowing down, and regardless, Will would be catching up to you in no time.

Blood was pounding in your ears, the ringing drowning out the sound of your own panting breaths as you pushed yourself as hard as you could. You prayed a tree root or even just your own feet wouldn’t trip you up, knowing by now that your head start was up, and suddenly you felt like you were in a horror movie.

Even though you knew it was your husband on the other end of this chase, you couldn’t get the sickening pit in your stomach to go away, realizing with grave terror the reality that you likely wouldn’t be able to outrun someone in a worse scenario.

Your lungs burned and your limbs felt heavy, your false fear feeling all too real as you kept going as fast as you could move, doing your best to focus on the path in front of you and not on the man who pursued you from behind.

You could sense him gaining on you, your excitement mixing with nerves that had your fight or flight response in overdrive, the anticipation of him catching you almost too much to handle.

Well into the trail now, you decided to take a chance and deek off the path, still managing to keep your pace despite the branches and small brush growing thicker there, surprising yourself with your agility.

The harsh snap of a stick made a gasp come out of your mouth as you worked to keep your breathing at an even tempo, and the rustling of leaves and thumping of heavy feet on the forest floor increased faster than you could stand to hear.

It was exhilarating and completely frightening all at once, waiting to feel his hands grab at you as the crack of branches grew louder, wondering when the moment would come that his body would finally take yours down.

And then he did.

Feeling his fingertips graze at your back, you gave one last push with everything you had left in an effort to evade him, only to feel his arm snake around your waist, his weight barreling into you so forcefully it pushed you off your feet.

The momentum made both of you crash to the ground, his tackle knocking the wind out of your lungs despite his care to not actually hurt you, the thud of your body hitting the dirt echoing in your ears.

You squirmed beneath him, a pitiful attempt to wiggle your way out of his hold, only to feel the heavy mass of him keep you firmly stuck where you were, and you smiled hearing him grunt with his efforts.

He felt like he was on fire, his heat pouring through both your clothes and onto your back, his breaths heaving and laboured on your sweat-coated skin.

Dirt smeared across your cheek as you turned your face to the side to try to catch a glimpse of him, seeing a look of satisfaction and something totally primal twisting his gorgeous features.

His cheeks were red, his skin gleaming with drops of sweat that traveled downward until they dripped off the tip of his nose, his blond hair saturated and dark.

The muscles in his face flinched as he clenched his teeth tightly together, working to get his hands in the waist of your pants where he ripped them down in one go along with your panties, his rough treatment of you making you close your eyes as you waited for what was going to come next.

More feral, guttural noises came out of his mouth and you knew he saw how wet you were, making you lift your hips as much as possible in order to put yourself more on display for him.

The sinful sound of his belt opening rang with that familiar clank that made your cunt ache even more, and your mouth watered when you heard the zipper peel down followed by the shift of material as he freed himself.

There was no mercy as he buried his thick cock in you in one go, this not the time to ease you into taking his size and rather an example of the control your Captain could have over you no matter how hard you might try.

You cried out, digging your fingers into the soft soil as he began pounding into you relentlessly, the power behind his thrusts already making you feel dumb from pleasure.

One hand was planted firmly in the center of your back to keep you down while the other grabbed at the flesh on your hip like a vice, his fingers biting into your skin like teeth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, seemingly in need of more of you as he tore your pants further down your legs before using his thigh to nudge the back of your knee, forcing your right leg up so he could drive deeper in your cunt.

A drawn out moan spilled from your mouth at the change, the bitter taste of earth tainting your tongue as your face smeared back and forth on the ground from a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

Will laid himself fully on top of you, covering your form completely as he continued to plow into you, your body jolting when his hand found space between you and the ground and started rubbing your clit.

Being smothered by him made you dizzy, feeling constrained and claimed all at once, protected and retained, your heart swelling knowing no matter the situation, Will always carried a sense of possessiveness toward you.

You moved as much as you could, attempting to grind against his fingers to chase down your quickly building climax, but everything he was doing had you right there anyway.

The sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of your drenched cunt was almost too much to bear, every detail of his shaft that was now completely soaked by you memorized by your tight hole, the sounds of profane squelching and his heavy breathing finally sending you over the edge.

His hand quickly came out from under you and grabbed your face, covering your mouth to muffle your screams as you tensed beneath him, his wet fingers careless to their grip and placement as they clawed at your lips and fumbled against your teeth.

The taste of yourself made your mouth water more, feeling spit seep out around his fingers while he pounded furiously deep inside your constricting walls, his teeth raking over the side of your neck where your pulse thrummed viciously as he came undone in the wake of your orgasm.

A sharp hiss passed through his gritted teeth as the first of his spurts of hot cum filled you, his hips stuttering against your ass as his rhythm fell apart into something even more erratic, his breath blowing cruelly on your sweaty skin.

He remained on top of you for a minute, his lips pressing all over your neck and cheek, his hand that had been covering your mouth gently trailing down the side of your waist.

A stupid, exhausted smile dressed your lips as you came down, the sounds of the forest and chirping of birds able to be heard again now that your mind and body were beginning to quiet the electricity that had deafened your senses.

Will eventually pulled out of you and sat back on his heels, a deranged laugh puffing out of him as he admired the view in front of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he huffed, watching you lay there dirty, sweaty and disheveled, his cum leaking out of your stretched hole. “That's a game we might have to play more often.”

You giggled as you rolled over onto your back, smiling at Will who's own spread wide on his face and made all the lines around his eyes and mouth scrunch up.

He took another second to scan over you, the sight of you still half-naked and crudely exposed keeping him hard and wanting more, the temptation to ram himself back in your cunt and fuck you again, but harder, almost unbearable.

Recognizing the look in his eyes, you smirked as you teasingly shifted your hips to tug your panties back up, watching his chest inflate slowly in a way to try to calm himself as he made note of how his load would barely be contained by the tiny bit of material.

You sat up, leaning forward to press your lips against his slowly and teasingly, feeling his long, drawn out moan pass into your mouth as he relaxed into your kiss.

You couldn’t stifle your giggle when you took hold of his cock, still sticky and hot from you, and stroked it, feeling him buck closer to your touch and growl before you carefully tucked him back in his boxers.

“We’re gonna get caught if we keep this up,” you smiled, biting your lip when you parted from his.

“We’re lucky we didn't already,” he chuckled, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he nodded his head once.

Will stood and brought his pants back over his ass before fastening them and his belt, and extended his hand down to help you off the ground after you had pulled your tight spandex leggings back into place.

He was on you the moment you turned from him and started walking, pressing himself against your back while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his tone raspy and loaded with want when he spoke.

“Let's get home, sweetheart, we’re gonna need a shower.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul

@maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil

@kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi

@charethcutestory02 @daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x reader #will miller x female reader #charlie hunnam #will miller smut #will 'ironhead' miller #william miller #charlie hunnam characters

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wackyharpy · 5 months ago

Text

Disruption

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader

Word Count: about 4k

Summary: Ray’s been buried in work for hours, but you’ve been craving his attention and you know exactly how to get it.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI!! (unprotected - be responsible!) P in V sex, cursing, established relationship, thigh riding, very soft Dom!Ray, orgasm control, light degradation (dirty talk)

A/N: Y'all, this man has the patience of a saint - but he's finally making his debut!! 🙌🏻 Just a really quick shoutout to the best bestie ever, Laur (@laurfilijames)! Because we wouldn't even have this if it wasn't for her! ANNNND the title idea/brainstorm sesh!! My beautiful, brilliant minded friend - thank you for getting me through this one. 👯‍♀️ I love you endlessly!!! ✨All feedback (reblogs, comments, likes) is much appreciated and encouraged!! ✨ Enjoy babes! 🩷

Ray’s been at the dining room table for hours. Papers spread out; laptop open - some godforsaken ledger pulled up with a scowl carved into his face. Perfectly content to ignore the way you’ve been pacing around the house like a restless cat in heat.

You tried reading, scrolling, even taking a long bath to distract yourself. But he hasn’t looked up once - not when you padded past him with wet hair and freshly lotioned skin. Not when you slipped into one of his oversized cardigans - soft, worn-in wool that smelled like him, and nothing else but a pair of lace panties.

None of it worked.

Each time you walk past, he’s there - so focused, so calm, so fucking hot about it. And you’re bored, dripping into your panties because he hasn’t touched you all day.

Now you hover at the edge of the room, arms crossed beneath your chest, one hip cocked out, watching him. The deep blue walls and low pendant lights bathe him in warm amber, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the steady, graceful rhythm of his pen against paper.

The soft grey pullover sweater he’s wearing clings to his back, the fabric stretching over lean, hard muscle. When he reaches forward or shifts in his chair, you watch the defined lines move beneath the material - all quiet dominance and control.

He has the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing lean forearms threaded with veins and the solid weight of his favorite watch. His glasses sit perched low on his nose, his brow slightly furrowed as he makes notes on whatever spreadsheet he’s buried in now.

You sigh, loudly. Theatrically. But Ray doesn’t even glance up.

However, you do notice the faintest hesitation in his pen. He doesn’t react outwardly, but the subtlest shift sets across his toned shoulders, telling you he’s not as focused on his work as he’s pretending to be.

You can’t help the way your lips purse, just a little, at the realization. A quiet spark of satisfaction curls at the corners of your mouth.

Smirking, you saunter towards him, each barefoot step slow - letting the cardigan swing open just enough to tease. You stop behind his chair, stealing another moment to admire the shape of his back. There’s something so goddamn beautiful about the way he works - you could watch him like this for hours, casually running empires from the dining room.

His rich scent hits you as you approach - a hint of cedar from his cologne, clean detergent, and the lingering warmth of musk that always clings to him. It sinks into your lungs, leaving your head spinning in the best kind of way.

You shift in beside him, close enough to be felt, your voice soft and spoiled, almost petulant as you speak. “You’ve been working forever.”

He hums, his pen still moving. “Because someone has to make sure the money’s clean, darling.”

His pinky ring catches the light as he writes, glinting with every movement - precise and practiced, like everything he does.

Reaching out, you trail your finger slowly across his back, gliding from one broad shoulder to the other. The soft knit of his sweater shifts beneath your touch, and you feel the tension ripple beneath it.

“Are you insinuating that I’m dirty, Raymond?” you tease, your voice dipping low as you lean down, lips brushing his ear. Your teeth graze the shell of it, just a nip, soft and delicate - before pulling back with a wicked little smile.

Ray pauses at that, setting the pen down with a soft click, and lifts his head. He looks at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes dragging slowly over your body - your bare legs, the cardigan slipping low, the peek of lace beneath. He blinks once - then again, fast. A tic you’ve come to recognize. It’s how he reins himself in when he’s trying to stay composed.

Something he’s struggled with more since you came into his life, but not in a way he minds.

He turns slowly in his chair, finally facing you - gaze pinned, taking his time, indulging in your sight like it’s his reward.

His hand drags thoughtfully across his beard, like he’s weighing something - his fingers disappearing for a moment in the thick, meticulously kept scruff. Then he tips his chin and gestures toward his lap with a nod. “Come here,” he commands.

You bite your lip, eyes wide and a little too innocent, even as you let the cardigan slip a touch lower off your shoulder - just enough to offer a better view of your breast. Your tone is soft and sweet on the surface, but it’s laced with mischief. “Thought you were working.”

“I am.” His voice drops, low and sharper now. “Don’t make me ask again.”

A soft, excited meep slips past your lips - something small and involuntary, because you love it when he gets like this. You obey instantly, straddling his lap without hesitation, settling yourself over one thick, tailored thigh.

Ray raises an eyebrow when he realizes where you’re sitting. “What exactly are you doing?” he asks, voice edged with intrigue - his eyebrow still lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's this close to smiling.

You rock your hips once, just to test him, and the pressure is perfect. Denim against lace. His firm muscle pressed right where you need it.

Your arms curl around his neck, fingertips brushing the nape of it, leaning in close. “Getting creative,” you purr, dragging your lips over his jaw. “Since you’re too busy to fuck me.”

Ray doesn’t move, but his hands come up, gripping your hips. And then his thigh flexes beneath you, just once - enough to make you feel it. He watches you like something primal and a little bit entertained, a faint sound catching in his throat.

“Go on, then,” he orders, his tone is dry with a tinge of amusement as he indulges you. “You’re already making a mess of my evening. Might as well make a mess of my fucking trousers while you’re at it.”

Glancing up at him through your lashes, your mouth curves into a smile that’s playful, sheepish, and just a little smug. Ray hates mess. Hates anything unclean or out of order. But you? He wants the mess when it’s yours.

You start to move slowly at first. Hips rolling in lazy motions, grinding yourself down on the solid muscle of his thigh. The friction is divine, and every drag of lace against denim makes you press down harder.

He’s focused, tracking each twitch of your lip, every flutter of your lashes, all the tiny reactions in the way you rock against him. You let out a breathy moan, soft and helpless, grinding down exactly right - and his composure falters. His jaw tics, his long fingers flex against your hips, like the sound and feel of you is almost too much for him.

Your eyes lock - his are dark and calm, yours wide and hungry. He doesn’t blink or move, just holds you there on his leg with his firm grip and consuming stare. Your pulse hammers in your throat - you shouldn’t like being watched this much, but you do. There’s something raw and electric about the way he looks at you.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm builds, pressure curling deep in your belly. The cardigan slips off one shoulder with the increased movement, your body flushed and glistening with heat underneath it. Ray tilts his head slightly and adjusts his glasses like he’s refocusing.

Both hands move up your body, one arm wraps around your waist, keeping you balanced. The other slips beneath the wool draped around your unexposed shoulder, guiding it down your arm.

Your chest is bare to him now, your nipples stiff from the air and your own need. He studies you with quiet obsession - his hand slides up to cup one breast fully, his thumb brushing over the swollen peak while he watches your breath hitch at the contact. He squeezes, enough to make your body jolt, then repeats the motion on the other side. The sound he pulls from you is almost pathetic - high and fragile enough to make him smirk.

“You know how good you look like this?” he praises, slate-blue eyes locked on your chest as his thumb teases you again. “These perfect tits out. Cunt soaked for me.”

His cardigan pools around your elbows as your pace stutters, hips grinding faster and harder as you chase the pressure. Every movement of your clit sweeping over his thigh sends pleasure rolling through you.

Desperate, broken noises spill from your lips, gasping as your grip tightens on his shoulders, nails biting into the soft material of his sweater - completely losing yourself on the muscle he’s tensed just for you.

“Can’t help but act up when you want my cock, can you?” he growls low, his thigh flexing hard beneath you again.

You whimper, your head shaking from side to side with hopeless want. He can see how far gone you are - pupils blown wide, sweat clinging to your skin, your pink mouth parted in a silent, pleading gasp. But you don’t let go. Because he hasn’t told you to.

And you’re waiting - just like he’s taught you too.

You’re grinding frantically against him now, breath catching on every exhale, lost in the burning haze of need. Your orgasm is just out of reach, held hostage by the absence of his permission - while he watches - composed, relishing in it.

Ray is savoring this - the way your release belongs to him. He loves to own these moments, making sure your orgasm isn’t just something you take, but something he gives.

And then his voice slices through it all. “Do it,” he instructs, quiet and absolute. “Make a mess, love.”

His order is your undoing - your hips jerk forward, involuntarily, chasing that final bit of friction. The tension coils so tightly it’s nearly unbearable - your breath shatters, legs trembling as your entire body locks up in ecstasy. You cry out, grinding against him as your orgasm burns through your core, blurring your vision and leaving you slack with pleasure. You soak his thigh completely, the mess is hot and unfiltered, gushing through the lace and darkening the fabric beneath you.

You’re panting against his chest, eyes fluttering open slowly, still floating in that haze. And when you finally look up at him, his gaze is dark and heavy with desire - like he’s drinking in the sight of you ruined and breathless in his arms and loving every second of it.

“Needy little thing,” he remarks, not even trying to hide the amusement in his tone at your behavior.

Ray’s hand moves to your jaw, fingers curling gently around it as he guides your face closer to his, leaning in to press a kiss to your damp temple.

He shifts beneath you then, lifting you off his lap with gentle care. You whimper softly at the absence, legs still shaky, and he steadies you while you find your footing.

That’s when you see it, the shape of him - hard, thick, and straining beneath his trousers. Your breath catches, and you nibble on your lips as your thighs instinctively clench. You're still aching, still needy, because he hasn’t fucked you properly yet.

But Ray knows this, and without a word, he reaches for the cardigan still hanging from your arms. He slips it down slowly, knuckles grazing your sides as the wool glides over your skin, removing it and folding it over the back of the chair - neat and methodical, just like him.

With a quiet shift, he removes his glasses - holding them delicately in one hand - while his other bunches the fabric of his sweater between his shoulder blades. In one smooth motion, he pulls it up and over his head, muscles flexing as golden skin stretches across his torso. His chest is broad, lean, and defined in a way that’s always present beneath whatever crisp layers he wears. His stomach muscles contract with the motion, and as the fabric clears his head, it tousles his perfectly styled hair - leaving it just slightly disheveled.

He drapes it over top of the discarded cardigan, still holding his glasses, still watching you, before he slides them back on. His eyes trail down your body, devouring every inch of you standing there in nothing but those lace panties, chest flushed from release, plump lips parted, legs pressed together like you’re trying to hold in what’s left of your composure.

Ray looks down at you for a moment longer, like he can’t quite believe how pretty you are like this. His hand lifts, brushing the pad of his thumb slowly across your bottom lip, feeling the softness. He watches you like he’s starving, the quiet intensity in his eyes makes your pulse stutter. Your mouth parts, and you take his thumb between your lips - just to show that you’ll let him do anything.

And then almost like a switch, his expression changes, eyes darkening with intent as he instructs, “Turn around.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation.

He places one hand between your shoulder blades and guides you forward until your bare stomach meets the edge of the table. His palm flattens gently against your back, and with that same calm control, presses you down and bends you over without a word of resistance.

You brace yourself on the table, breath shallow, chest rising and falling against the cool wood. Behind you, there’s the quiet clink of his belt coming undone, the low slide of leather through denim - the sound alone makes your stomach flip.

Just as your breath steadies, you feel him at your hips, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He drags the lace down slowly, letting it slide over the curve of your ass, your thighs, until it catches around your ankles. The fabric is damp, clinging slightly from how soaked you are, and you feel the low rumble of approval from his chest as your foot moves to kick them aside.

He pushes your legs further apart with a nudge of his toe, causing you to gasp softly. But you move easily and eagerly - parting your thighs wider for him, desperate to be filled. The cool air against your bare cunt only intensifies the ache between your legs.

The heat of his body crowds in around you as the weight of his cock brushes your inner thigh. He guides himself through your dripping folds, dragging his tip slowly between your swollen lips, smearing your release all over his length. His precum mixes with you - warm, sticky, and lewd.

One slow roll of his hips, and he’s pressing inside you - holding, letting you feel the stretch begin. The first few inches make your knees buckle. He’s thick and unforgiving, filling you up like it’s the first time all over again. You clench around him, greedily trying to take more, but he holds steady - giving you only what he wants.

Then he sinks in - and the most delectable, shameless sound escapes your body. Ray grunts at the feel of you, his hand coming to your hip, holding you firmly as he starts to move.

He fucks you with long, deep strokes - dragging the length of himself all the way out before thrusting back in, a bit harder each time. The pressure, the fullness, the overwhelming movement of him, slams into you all at once.

His grip tightens around your waist, one hand trailing slowly up your back, firm and steady, pinning you to the table.

You whimper, fingers digging into the edge of the table - no matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how wet or ready you are, the feel of him inside you always leaves you wrecked. So much and not nearly enough - an exquisite kind of ache.

A moan tears from your throat, loud and greedy, while Ray sets his pace - punishing and devastatingly precise. The table shifts beneath you, legs creaking in protest, and somewhere under your cheek, you feel papers slipping - documents he’d been buried in all evening, now pushed askew by the force of your body jolting against the wood.

“This what you needed?” he taunts, his voice a mixture of gravel and silk. “After all that whining - this what you were after?”

You nod, gasping his name as he drives deeper, harder, each thrust stealing the air from your lungs. His own breathing grows heavier, but his control never wavers - one hand stays locked around your waist, the other ghosts up your spine.

“Listen to you,” he utters, dark and amused. “Can’t even take a proper fuck without crying for it like a filthy thing.”

A high pitched whimper tumbles from your lips at his words, mouth open against the table, fingers still clawing at the edge for something to hold onto while he drills into you - measured and merciless.

Ray goes on, his breath brushing across your skin. “Couldn’t behave yourself. Grinding this cunt all over my fucking thigh, desperate for anything I’d give you.”

His fingers slide up the back of your neck and tangle into your hair, curling tight - not forceful, but to keep you right where he wants you. He leans in until his mouth hovers at your ear, the heat of him sending goosebumps down your spine.

“But you like being like this, don’t you?” he rasps, his voice rough and raw.

Another thrust and your voice stutters from your throat as he fucks into you like he owns you, hitting your g-spot, over and over, making your legs quiver under the pressure of it, your body clenching tight. You’re dripping for him, so wet he buries himself in your drenched heat, every thrust slick and loud.

He pants, “Soaked and spread out for me,” hips snapping forward again, “My perfect, messy girl.”

You sob out his name, wrecked and breathless - his only response is another relentless thrust of his hips and a low snarl. You feel him everywhere - wrapped in your hair, pressed along your spine - mouthing filth into your skin like its devotion.

He straightens up behind you while his pace quickens, skin on skin echoing off the walls. You gasp, your head turning just enough to look over your shoulder - and what you see nearly undoes you all over again.

Ray’s brow is furrowed, jaw clenched, sweat beading along his temple. He’s flushed, focused, and fucking you so purposeful, it could only be him. Without breaking his stride, he lifts one hand to his face, slipping his glasses off.

He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist, a low exhale slipping between his clenched teeth. Then, hurried, he slides them right back on. You watch his lashes flutter once, then twice, and again in quick succession.

Because he needs to see.

Needs to watch the way he sinks into you with every push - how soaked your cunt is, how you clutch around him like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

The sight of him above you, bare-chested and sweating, muscles flexing with every snap of his hips, working his cock into you - steals the breath straight from your lungs and makes your head spin with how utterly gone you are for him.

You feel it building again - quick and heavy - your body still strung out from riding his thigh, the teasing, the stretch of him. Your clit throbs, your arousal making a mess of both your thighs and the table beneath you.

“That's it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride. “Squeezing me so good, going to milk every drop out of me.”

You nod urgently, hips jerking, the tops of your thighs bumping the edge of the table, his name slipping past your mouth in broken cries.

You can’t wait - not this time.

“Please… please, let me! I need to come, Ray - please!”

You’re begging before he even gives the word, too desperate to hold it in, too strung out to care. You typically know better, but right now, all you can do is plead.

Your desperation punches right through his composure. He groans, low and ragged, his usual soft tone completely abandoned. And that’s when his fingers slide low - finding your clit, rubbing it just right, coaxing your orgasm forward while his cock pounds into your perfect spot.

You cry out for him - broken and high - as your orgasm slams through you like a wave, your vision going white at the edges. You pulse around him hard, soaking him all over again, the slick sounds between you turning obscene.

But Ray doesn’t stop.

His thrusts keep coming, dragging you straight into overstimulation. Whining, you tremble beneath him as your body jerks, raw and ruined - tipping past the edge until you're spiraling all over again.

He groans out, pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he loses his own control. “Fucking hell - look at you,” he pants. “Can’t stop making messes all over me.”

You’re still pulsing around him, fluttering and tight, and it tips him. With a hoarse sound, he drives into you one last time and spills deep, flooding you with his release. You feel every throb of it, every warm pulse as he fills you with his cum, groaning again, hips rocking slowly, like he can’t stop, like he needs to feel every last drop sink into you.

His movement softens, breath ragged against your back as he stays buried, grinding lazily through the aftershocks. With a final exhale, he lets his weight settle over you gently, his chest pressed to you, his body flush with yours.

His lips land on your shoulder - light and slow - kissing you there once, then again - a little lower, a little longer. The brush of his thick beard against your skin is warm and scratchy, pulling you gently into the afterglow.

You shift slightly beneath him, and he finally, gently pulls out - his softening cock slipping free with a low groan, followed by the slow warmth of his release trickling down your thigh.

He presses a final kiss to your shoulder, then lifts up from you just enough to move. One hand stays on your back while the other slides around your waist.

“Easy now,” he soothes, voice low and spent.

With a careful grip, he helps you upright, guiding your body back against his chest, steadying you as your shaky legs try to find themselves again. His arm wraps fully around you, keeping you close.

You lean into him, flushed and breathless, your skin damp, a gorgeous grin spreads across your lips - it’s lazy and satisfied, like you’ve just been thoroughly, completely fucked out of your mind.

Ray glances down, catches the look on your face, and shakes his head with a soft, incredulous laugh. “Christ, love. You act like this wasn’t your plan the second I opened my laptop.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence - but the mischief in your eyes gives you away completely. “It wasn’t!” you protest, far too quickly - your voice softening, sweet and smug, before adding “…But you left me unattended.”

Ray lets out a quiet breath as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to the space between your cheek and your ear - softly inhaling your scent, a private little indulgence.

“I ought to fucking know better,” he mutters against your skin, but here’s no bite in it, only fondness and amused surrender. The kind of affection reserved for someone who keeps getting away with it… because he wants them to.

As he steps back, his ringed hand slips from your waist to your ass, delivering a firm little swat that makes you gasp and laugh.

“Minx,” he mutters dryly under his breath - like its fact.

And fuck if you don’t already want to do it all over again.

#to read #raymond smith #the gentlemen #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith smut #raymond smith x female reader #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #raymond smith fic

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