Archive of Our Own ^beta

“So I've been thinking about Greece.”

The corner of my mouth pulls into a soft smirk as I look up from the page I was on. “Greece?”

You tilt your head and then nod slowly, eyes flickering across my face, down to my neck and back up to hold my gaze. “Greece.”

I glance down at the page number and slide my finger out from between the book, placing it on the table next to me. I pat my thigh and you walk over from across the living room, eyes never leaving mine. The warmth of your body covers me as you settle on my lap wrapping your arms loosely around my neck.

“And what about Greece do you think about, baby?” I say, leaning my head back against your open palms, taking in the sight of you so close to me. You sigh softly, leaning in to press your lips to mine. Your breath tickles my skin and my hand travels to the small of your back, pushing you until your chest meets mine. You lick my lips, curling your tongue upward to part my lips. I pull back with an eyebrow raised, fingers tracing the waistband of your sweatpants, smirking at the way your skin twitches at the ghost of my touch there.

“Everything,” you whisper in answer. I hum and press my fingers to your skin. “I think about everything. How it felt. How you looked. How we sounded together. How close we were. How fucking right it felt.” Your voice shakes as my hand slides up your shirt, nails lightly scratching your waist as I let them travel up to the round of your breasts. You've always hated wearing bras. I've always loved that about you.

My fingers flick across your left nipple and you bite back a gasp, thighs clenching around me. “Just thinking about it gets you like this for me?” I say, circling your peaked nipple with my fingers before squeezing it between them. Your fingers grip my hair as you nod, pressing your hips down onto me with a shaky sigh, “Yeah, fuck, please.”

I slip my hands down your sides, grabbing the skin around your hips before resting my hands on either of your thighs, holding you down. “Tell me, baby,” I say, slow. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. I want to hear you say it.”

You curse under your breath, gaze clouding over the way it always does when you start to slip into subspace. My hands ride up, softly settling on the inside of your thighs and your pants are damp. The vein in my jaw ticks as I swallow down the urge to rip them off and let you coat my fingers right here, right now. I press my palm flat against your crotch and you moan, high and needy and rock your hips into it. I click my tongue, pressing harder and watch your chest fall and rise as you force your hips to stay still. You know there's only one way this goes. I don't have to say it but I do anyway. “Be good for me, baby.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver. “You know what good girls get.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and I kiss you there. You're shaking. Visibly shaking from the effort of keeping your hips and hands and mouth in check and you've never looked prettier than you do right now. You part your lips, once and then twice and then moan when I lick the spot under your ear. “Fuck, please,” you finally manage, words cracking with each syllable. “Please fuck me. Like in Greece–”

“How did I fuck you in Greece?” My hand leaves your thighs to grip your face, fingers digging into your cheeks until your mouth shapes a soft pout. You whimper, hips jerking forward and immediate regret colouring the dark in your eyes. I'm going to remember that for later.

“Shit– like I'm your fucktoy.” Your words are muffled with my hold on you but I can make out each one of them. “I need you to use me, fuck, please. Fuck me like your dirty fucking whore because that's what I am.” Your eyes jump to mine, wild and frantic and I want to kiss the fuck out of you but I wait. You can do me one better. You and I both know it. And then you do. “I'm yours. Fuck, master, use me–”

My mouth crashes against yours and you whine, feeling my hands grip your hips and move them roughly on my thigh. I slip my tongue between your lips, moaning at the familiarity of how you taste, teeth clashing as you open your mouth wider, taking in more of my tongue. You choke and I swallow the sound. You're fucking greedy and nothing turns me on more. I drag my lips down to your chin, travelling across your jaw and sucking on the faded hickey at the corner of it until it's red and wet. You're mine. And the world will know.

When I pull back, your eyes are shut tight and your face is flushed with my favourite shade of crimson. I look down and see the wet spot between your legs, dark and growing. “All this for me?” My open mouth lands on your collar bones, feeling the pound of your pulse under my lips. I press my hand against the wet of your pants and you whimper at the friction between us. “God, you're so fucking pathetic,” I grit out, heat spreading across my chest when all you do is nod wantonly in response. “Yeah? You think so too, baby?” I say, smirking when you moan and push against my touch. “My desperate little fucktoy.”

“Yours,” you breathe, out meeting my gaze, pupils dilated. “All yours.” I grab a handful of your shirt, tugging you toward me until my lips catch yours. We're loud and restless and I've had enough of our clothes. “Off,” I mumble, out of breath as my gaze latches onto your shirt. You scramble to comply, reaching for your pants after your shirt falls to the ground and then pause to look at me. Good girl. I smile and kiss the flush of your bare chest, before gently pushing you off of my lap. “Yes baby. All of it.”

Your knees buckle for a moment at the loss of contact and I watch you slide your pants down in one rushed move. You're wet – as fuck. The inside of your thighs glisten and you press them together on instinct. “Knees,” I say softly, taking out a cushion from behind me and tossing it on the empty place between my feet. A hint of a smile forms at your mouth and I smile back, watching you settle onto your knees between my legs, arms going behind your back. “Okay?”

You nod. I run my hand through your hair, pulling so your head tilts back. “Use your words.” Your eyes flutter shut and I catch the subtle shift of your thighs closer together.

“Yes master,” you whisper and I can barely hear you but I let that slide. You look gorgeous on your knees. You always have. “My pretty little slut,” I say, half to myself as I slip a hand down my pants, the other tightening its grip in your hair. Your eyes flit between my eyes and my hand, lips parted in a soft o. I'm wet and fucking swollen, fingers dripping when I slide them over myself and bring them to your mouth. “You want it, baby?”

“Yes, fuck. Please.” Your voice is tight, strained and your eyes are laser focused on the two fingers hovering in front of your mouth, close enough to lick if you wanted to. “Please let me taste you.” And fuck, you've always begged pretty. I jerk my head in a gesture you know all too well and you lick your lips before wrapping them around my fingers. You moan around them, tongue gliding across, swallowing every last drop. I push them in deeper and you choke, shuffling closer on your knees. You want more. I can tell by the way you move your mouth up and down my fingers, welcoming the burn that comes with every time you choke. “Show me how bad you want me,” I say, tilting my head to look at the way your lips form a tight ring around my fingers, your teeth scratching them lightly as you swallow around me.

You whine, the flush of your face darkening as I slide my foot up your thigh, pressing down between your legs. Your hips roll against me, slow and controlled and it surprises me. Your endurance has gotten better over the years. “Good girl,” I breathe out, pulling my fingers from between your lips and dragging them down your neck to your breasts, flicking one of your nipples. Your hips stutter and you moan breathlessly. Once, twice and again. I can tell just by that it won't take much more to make you come – so I pull away. “Can't have you coming before me.”

I shrug off my unbuttoned shirt, hands reaching back to unclasp my bra and then I lean forward. “Show me what else that mouth can do, baby.” Your lips part, eyes meeting mine. You're hesitant, unsure. “Oh come on baby. You're a smart one. You can figure it out,” I say, sliding one strap of my bra down my shoulder and I quite literally watch the penny drop.

You roll your shoulders back, kneeling upright as your mouth comes to close around the other strap, teeth pulling it down until it rests just above the crook of my elbow. Your breath, warm and shaky hits my chest as your teeth dig into the fabric there and tug it away from my skin until my entire bra hangs between your teeth. And fuck I wish I could burn that debauched look on your face into my memory. Your gaze falls on my breasts and a tendril of spit runs down the black of my bra in your mouth. If you were out of breath before, you were near passing out now – chest heaving up and down. “Look at you baby,” I smirk at the sound that traps in your throat, muffled by the bra bunched up in your mouth. “Like a pup in heat.”

I kiss the top of your head before leaning back again and lift my hips up. “Take them off.” Your hands scramble forward and I shake my head, one hand coming to close around your wrist. “I didn't say you could use your hands, baby.” You whine softly in impatience, spit wetting the fabric in your mouth.

“Look at that spit,” I swipe a hand under your chin and spread my fingers in front of you, webs of your spit strung between them. “If you're going to act like a runt,” my free hand scratches your head almost patronisingly, “at least do a good job of it, baby.” Your eyes widen and flick down to my spit coated hand, watching me wipe it against my pants. The bra falls from your mouth to the floor and you lean forward, biting into the waistband of my pants and tugging at it. Once, twice and you groan in frustration when they don't immediately slide down. I push your head down, sighing out, when your feverish breath hits the skin you're slowly starting to expose. Strings of your spit fall on to my thighs, dripping across them as you struggle with quick breaths to get my pants down my knees. They finally pool at ground and I lift my legs, watching you slide them away with your mouth. “That's my good girl,” I say, raising one of my legs and placing it on your shoulder. I slink down, pushing my lower body closer to your eager mouth and you moan. “Such a pretty whore for me, aren't you?”

You swallow and stutter over your words. “For you, master. Please.” I hum, tipping my head back as one hand fists in your hair, pushing you down on to me. “Show me,” I grit out, moaning when I feel the warmth of your mouth close around my pulsing clit. “Show me, fuck, show me what a whore you are. How filthy that pretty mouth is.” Your tongue swipes across my slit, dipping in between the folds and we moan in tandem when you press harder. The vibrations of the noises you're making shoot up my spine, hips thrusting up against your mouth as you move your head up and down. Your tongue teases its way around my clit, stopping to press flat against it and I gasp, both hands in your hair holding you in place as I push up into your touch. “Fuck, baby. Do that again," I groan out and moan with the pressure of your tongue there again.

Your spit's soaking my thighs – or maybe it's my come. Your tongue curls up under the hood, sliding down until you find the spot that's twitching for your mouth on it. You moan and swipe your tongue across the heat of my clit, in quick and short movements and I'm rocking my hips up and shoving your head down and we're meeting in the middle in a slick and loud embrace. I moan your name enveloped in a string of curses, skin jumping as your tongue brings me closer to the edge.

“Yeah baby, fuck. So good with your mouth,” I moan, voice breaking when your tongue gets faster. Messier. Louder. My body tenses up and you moan in desperate need to see me come. “Look at me,” I breathe out, cursing when your obedient fucking blissed out doe eyes catch mine and that look right there, is all I fucking need. You moan against me and a ripple of pleasure rides up my body, heat spreading in my veins as I clench my thighs around your face, hands in your hair holding you there while I twitch and ride my orgasm out against your mouth.

You press your cheek against my thigh and kiss my clit, lapping around to collect every drop of me and I smile. I pull you back and lean in for a taste, tongue running along your bottom lip as you sigh out my name. I hum, placing my mouth on your forehead and cheek, and then your neck and the base of your throat where I can feel your heartbeat. “That's my pretty fucking whore,” I say, a breath of laughter hitting your skin. “You're so good for me baby, you know that?” I walk my fingers through your hair, waiting to come down from my high while your eyes travel down the dips of my body to where I'm still wet.

I glance down at the mess between your legs – our last cushion’s officially ruined and I couldn't care less. My hand reaches to cup your face and you meet my gaze expectantly, a whimper lodging in your throat at the soft contact. “Go wait for me in our room, yeah?” I trail my thumb down to your lips, rubbing over the soreness I can feel brewing there. “Be in a position I'll like.”

You nod and stagger to your feet, face turning a deep shade of red when you're standing and I want nothing more than to pull you onto my lip and kiss your face. “Now you're shy?” I say, laughing as you mumble something that sounds a lot like a ‘no I'm fucking not’ and head to our room. My eyes stay on you until I can't see you anymore and then I throw my head back and take a minute because goddamn I need a minute. That's just what you do to me.

When I'm in our room I find you on your hands and knees in the centre of our queen sized bed. “I see you've redecorated,” I say, voice low as a hundred new possibilities pop up in my mind. This is definitely a position I like.You breathe out a soft affirmation, looking back at me over your shoulder with a small grin. You know exactly what you're doing with our full length mirror placed sideways against the head post. I stride over to you until I'm right behind you in our reflection and bring a hand down to your ass. You flinch at the sudden contact, a high pitched moan slipping past your lips. You're wound up – muscles taut and body rigid. You're aching to come. “This is what you want? Want to watch me ruin you, hm?”

I press a kiss to the base of your spine and you arch up, ever so responsive. “Want to watch me slut you the fuck out?” My mouth drags up to the centre of your back. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you're trying to hold back any other sound that isn't your heavy breaths. I pull you back until your ass presses firmly against my hips and you moan. “Please, fuck. Need you,” you say and you sound fucking broken. There's tears in your eyes when our gazes meet in the mirror and I feel a tingle travel down my back.

“Nah baby, I don't think you're ready yet,” I say and you fall forward, face down into the pillows and cry out. Merriam Webster should redefine desperation in its books. “How about this,” I murmur softly against your skin as I nip at the salt on your shoulder blade. “I tie you up–” Your back arches up into me, a pathetic sob breaking past your lips. How can someone want something and simultaneously not want it equally as bad. I bite your shoulder, pushing my chest down onto your skin. “You can take it, baby,” I say when you start to shake your head. “You will take it. And then I'll take you. I'll fuck you like the slut you are, spread you open with my fingers and fuck you until you can't breathe or think or speak.”

Your whole body shakes under me, constant whimpers muffling against the pillow your face is pressed into. That's your telltale for when you're deep into sub drop– I press a soft kiss to your back. I'll take care of you. You're non-verbal now so I don't bother waiting for a response, instead dragging myself away from you long enough to grab a few things from our closet. I kiss the back of your thighs and then your calves and click the cuffs in place around your ankles, running a slow hand down the round of your ass when you jolt and whine at the constriction. “It's okay, baby. You're doing so good,” I praise softly, walking over to one side of the bed and tying a swift knot around your wrist and attaching it to one side of the head board. “So fucking good.”

I lift your head with both hands, catching the dazed look in your eyes and the crimson creeping up your skin and the way your mouth hangs open, uncontrolled spit running down your chin. Your eyes rest on me – distant but beautiful as ever. I lean in and press my mouth against yours, swallowing the helpless little sounds that form in your throat. I tie your other wrist to the opposite end of the bed and step back to admire you, spread out like a starfish like you always say, on display. For me. Just for me. I take a breath, finding myself slipping deeper into the headspace I don't let myself go into often. But fuck it, this is what you want. Greece. I grab the harness, sliding it up my thighs until I can pull it tight around my hips and lock it in place. My eyes land on our reflection and I knot a hand in the back of your head, pulling you up as you moan low and drawn. “Wanna watch you take me,” I groan, knowing you're too far gone to actually process my words but your hips roll back in eager response to my voice. I take that as a ‘please do’.

I look down at the toy between us and fuck, I can't take it anymore. I bring a hand down on your ass making your skin jump, and I watch a dark shade of red spread at the point of contact. My fingers run down the crevice between your cheeks, feeling you twitch under them and push you open. You let out a breathy moan, and again and again and my eyes flit up to catch the sexed-out look on your face. You're so wet, you're dripping down your thighs onto our sheets and I rub the tip of the toy up the slick of you. You shiver and press back, hips jerking forward and backward on their own accord in a desperate attempt to get any type of friction. “So fucking needy,” I moan, pushing the tip into you slowly and feeling your walls open up to let me in. You go completely still, eyes shut tight as I slide in without really having to try and you? You take me, and take me and take me until I'm pressed directly against your ass.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, looking at the place we meet. “Took me so well. Fuck, you really are a whore aren't you? So fucking stretched out and ready for me,” I mumble and you nod quick and unrelenting, head pulling forward against my grip. You whine and press your hips back into me, metal clinking as you try to spread your legs wider. Fuck, this is exactly what I love about you.

I hum. “You're right, baby. You've waited enough,” I say, slowly pulling back and watching the way your mouth drops into a slow ‘o’, chest trembling violently as you feel me graze every inch of your inner walls. “My pretty little fucktoy's earned this.” I push into you, harder this time, and the sound you make hits me in all the right places. I curse under my breath, pulling your head further back to get a better view of the way your breasts move everytime I slam into you, taking in each little wince and whimper and broken moan that escapes your lips.

Your mouth parts wider and you let out a shaky breath that ends up being a choked scream as I pick up the pace, sliding into you harder and faster, feeling your walls clench around me. You pull at the constraints, thighs convulsing with each thrust and you're begging. High pitched, broken as fuck moans begging me to let you come.

Pleasepleaseplease. Fucking heavenly. My eyes rest on your peaked nipples, the way your chest bounces up and down, and your throat that's pulled tight from the way I'm gripping your hair. “Look at me,” I rasp, out of breath and you comply. “Fuck.” Your eyes are so dark, I can't see the brown in them anymore. Your face shines with tear stains and you're mouthing soundless words I don't need to hear to know. I grab a handful of your ass and then spank you, pushing your head down into the mattress and you sob out my name over and over and god I don't remember the last time you sounded this deplorable.

I grab your hips with both hands, pulling you into me as my hips rock forward and we meet in the middle in perfect harmony. Your thighs tense and your body spasms, incoherent words slipping past your lips and getting lost in the sheets. You're still fighting off the need to come and the thought of that alone could make me come. I curse under my breath, holding your hips in place as I rock mine harder and faster into you, shorter quicker thrusts. You cry out and as much as I love when you scream, I'm grateful for the pillow that quietens your noises because just our skin slapping together and the slick sounds of the toy between us is enough to get an eviction notice.

Your back arches sharp and shaking and I say the words you've been dying to hear for almost two hours now. “That's right, baby, fucking come for me.” You jolt violently, a string of curses and thank yous falling from your open mouth as you moan and clench around the toy. You come and keep on fucking come and I keep on pushing into the spot inside you that gets you like this, feeling your warmth leak out and trickle down between us. I run my hand up your back, sweat collecting in my palm as you continue to jerk, face pressed into the pillow that's soaked in tears and spit.

I reach over to pull off the cuffs on your ankles and then pull out, unstrapping myself and I swear to god it's like I opened a tap of water. You whimper at the loss of contact and I soothe you with a kiss on your hips as I stagger over to your wrists, undoing both knots and pulling you into my arms.

I glide my hand down your back and you shake, arms falling to my sides as I wrap mine tightly around you. I press my mouth to any part of your skin I can reach, tasting the salt on you and whispering soft praise and I love yous. We lie there, with you in my arms, shaking and letting out the last of your tears while I kiss every inch of you and hold you close to me. Safe, and mine. And when you finally come to, you look up at me with those pretty brown eyes I'm in love with and manage a slurred mumble of my name and a smile. And I've never been more grateful than I am at this moment that you're mine.