“you keep staring, ma. gonna start thinking you want a taste.”
he said it with a cocky smirk, red lollipop dragging slow across his tongue. he was slouched on your bed like he lived there, legs wide, hoodie rucked up just enough to show a flash of his happy trail and he was looking at you like he already knew you were soaking through your underwear.
“shut up,” you muttered, eyes flicking away even though the damage was done.
he caught it — the way your thighs pressed together. he always caught it.
“mm. no can do,” he hummed, popping the candy out with a soft pop. “not when you keep lookin’ at me like you wanna fuckin’ ride my face.”
you opened your mouth to say something—anything—but chris just slid the lollipop between his lips again, sucking slow. filthy. intentional.
your voice died in your throat.
he leaned forward lazily, elbow resting on his knee, eyes burning holes through your skin. “what, baby? need help? use your words.”
you rolled your eyes. “you’re annoying.”
but even you could hear how breathless it came out.
“but you still want me,” he said, cocky as ever. “c’mere.”
so he tilted his head and let the lollipop hang between his fingers. “or you want me to come to you?” he was already standing. already stalking over. “yeah. i figured.”
you backed up until your thighs hit the bed. he didn’t stop. didn’t say a word. just walked you backwards, pushed you down with a hand on your shoulder, and crawled over you. he held the lollipop up to your mouth like a dare.
your lips wrapped around it automatically. sweet cherry coated your tongue—but it wasn’t about the candy, not even close.
his eyes dropped to your mouth, then your throat as you swallowed. he groaned, low and dangerous.
“look at you,” he breathed. “all that attitude earlier, now you’re letting me feed you candy like you’re my fuckin’ toy.”
he pulled the lollipop out of your mouth slow, strings of spit following it,and then shoved it in his mouth again, licking it once like he was tasting you.
“aw, you like that?” he cooed. “you’re such a dirty fuckin’ girl.”
and then his mouth was on you. candy-sweet kisses pressed to your neck, jaw, lips— tasting you, teasing you, biting just to hear you gasp. his hands were already under your shirt, rough palms dragging up your sides like he was starving.
he yanked your shorts off without warning.
“christ,” he muttered, seeing the wet patch on your underwear. “you got this soaked from me sucking a fuckin’ lollipop?”
“uh-uh,” he interrupted, pressing his thumb against your clit through the fabric. “you’re not begging yet. not the way i like it.”
you bucked against his hand.
he laughed, low and cruel. “nah, you’re not getting anything till you ask right.”
you looked at him, eyes glassy, chest heaving. “please, chris. i need you.”
he leaned in, so close his nose brushed yours. “need me? or just my tongue?”
and then he ripped your underwear down your legs and dove between your thighs.
his mouth was hot and ruthless. no teasing now — all tongue and moans and messy licks that had your back arching off the bed. he devoured you like the lollipop was just practice. like you were the only thing he’d ever eat again.
your hands flew to his curls, tugging, grinding your hips up, but he gripped your thighs and pinned you down.
“stay still,” he growled. “wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
and you did. with a cry that had your whole body trembling, thighs clenching around his head, fingers digging into his scalp.
he didn’t stop until you were sobbing.
when he finally pulled back, his lips were glistening and swollen. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabbed the lollipop from where he’d tossed it on the bed.
“open,” he ordered softly.
you opened your mouth, dazed and fucked out, and he slid the candy between your lips again.
“good girl,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “now be sweet and suck while i fuck the life outta you.”
you barely had time to catch your breath before he was flipping you over, strong hands dragging your hips up, back arched, cheek pressed into the sheets. the lollipop was still tucked between your lips, sticky sweet as your tongue rolled over it — just like he told you to.
“look at that,” chris muttered behind you, voice already dark and strained. “pretty little mouth full of sugar, and this pussy still dripping for me.”
you felt his palm slide down your spine, slow and possessive, like he was claiming you with his touch. he leaned in close, bare chest warm on your back as he kissed just below your ear.
“don’t spit it out,” he whispered. “keep sucking like a good girl. i wanna see that stick in your mouth while i fuck you stupid.”
you whimpered around the lollipop.
he laughed — low, smug, and mean.
and then you felt it. the fat tip of his cock, heavy and hot, nudging at your entrance. he dragged it through your soaked folds, teasing, slow… then slammed in with one hard thrust.
you choked on the candy, moaning so loud your eyes rolled back.
“fuckkk,” chris hissed, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. “so tight, baby. still clenching around me like you’re not made for this dick.”
he started to move — deep, hard strokes that punched the air from your lungs. you were already wrecked from his mouth, and now he was fucking you like he was trying to ruin you forever.
his fingers slid up to tug your hair back, making you arch even deeper. the angle had you gasping, lollipop falling from your lips and hitting the sheets with a soft thud.
“what did i say about that candy, sweetheart?”
he pulled out completely.
“no, no, don’t—!” you cried out, reaching back. “please, chris, i didn’t mean to!”
he just grabbed the lollipop, dragged it through your spit-slick lips, and shoved it back into your mouth. “don’t let it happen again.”
and then he was fucking you harder.
the sound of skin slapping, the wet suck of the lollipop between your lips, your muffled moans, his ragged breathing— it all filled the room like sin.
“god, look at you,” he grunted, one hand gripping your waist, the other wrapping around your throat and pulling your head up. “mouth full, brain empty. just takin’ what i give you.”
you nodded, tears spilling over from how good it felt. from how full you were. from how fucking wrecked he had you.
“you’re mine,” he said, low and rough against your ear. “you know that, right? no one else gets to see you like this. gets to fuck you like this.”
you clenched around him hard.
he groaned — deep and broken. “yeah? that turned you on?”
you could barely speak, lollipop still in your mouth, but you moaned a muffled yes.
“say it, then,” he ordered, fucking into you so deep your legs shook. “say you’re mine.”
you pulled the lollipop out just long enough to cry, “i’m yours—i’m yours, chris, please—” before shoving it back between your lips, desperate to obey.
and that pushed him over the edge.
he grabbed your hips and slammed into you one last time, thick and deep, burying himself as he came with a loud, wrecked moan of your name. the sound of it made you cum again, eyes squeezing shut, body shaking under the weight of it.
you collapsed into the mattress, chest heaving, legs trembling.
chris didn’t move for a second, just stayed inside you, breathing hard, head resting on your back. then he pulled out slow, careful, and rolled you over like you were something fragile.
he brushed hair off your face and smiled, soft and lazy. “told you i’d fuck the life outta you.”
you just blinked at him, dazed and stupid with love and lust.
“you okay, baby?” he asked, brushing his thumb across your cheek.
“mhm,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “i’m yours.”
— typed with one hand, lola.