"pretending not to enjoy it"
rio x reader
warning: smut (nsfw) — in which the thought of him alone is enough for you to stop the world.
“Baby, I’m home!”
Kicking off your strappy stiletto sandals at the door, you let out a soft hum at the cool sensation of the smooth hardwood beneath your toes. A quick glance in the mirror caught your eye, and you turned, smiling faintly — mentally praising yourself for choosing such a flattering dress. You tucked a strand of long, wavy hair behind your ear and paused, just for a moment, to soak in the quiet confidence that radiated from your reflection. The compliments you’d gotten while out with your family still echoed sweetly in your mind, and served as a gentle reminder of just how beautiful the day had played out thus far.
Some of them were polite and flattering, of course, while others veered into more crude territory. Still, the only ones who seemed genuinely unsettled by all the attention you were receiving were your brothers and your dad. It was clear they were uncomfortable watching so many men openly ogle you as you walked by. But you were used to it, being that this was a normal occurrence whenever you went out alone.
However, it definitely didn’t negate the fact that having your family there to bear witness now certainly added a layer of awkwardness you hadn’t quite prepared for.
What caught you off guard most, though, was your mother. She actually complimented you — which, in and of itself, was rare. She seemed noticeably cheerful all day, even remarking that you were “glowing,” and not-so-subtly hinting that you and Rio must at least be thinking about giving her another grandchild.
The very thought of having a baby with Rio felt like something out of a fairy tale. Despite the line of work he was in, you knew — immediately and indisputably — that he was going to be the father of your children. And the man you’d ultimately marry.
Rio embodied all the qualities you didn’t even know you needed in a partner until you met him.
From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he was completely obsessed — and he had no shame in claiming you, loudly and proudly, for the whole world to see. You loved that about him. And from that day on, it was as if he made it his life’s mission to ensure you could live the softest life imaginable, in every sense of the word.
Rio told you, when you two first made things official, that he wanted to take care of you — fully, wholly. But even with that being said, he never asked you to walk away from the life you were building before meeting him. He never tried to stifle your growth or hold you back from reaching your full potential. Instead, he supported you wholeheartedly, finding the most thoughtful and creative ways to help you chase whatever direction your heart and mind pointed to.
Even when your ideas were spontaneous and downright irrational, he did whatever he could to help bring them to life — however that may have looked.
And as supportive as he was of all of your outlandish fantasies, he assured you twice as much that he also held space for the possibility that one day, you might get tired or just simply not want to anymore. And if that day ever came — if you ever just wanted to lay it all down — he’d promised he would take it from there. Because to him, loving you meant making sure you never had to carry more than you were willing to.
He made it abundantly clear that he would handle any problems or issues that surfaced in your life – no matter how big or small. As long as he was there, in his eyes you were not meant to lift a single finger ever.
You thought back to when you first moved in together and giggled at how it had taken you days to convince Rio that you didn’t need a personal driver or a bodyguard. It genuinely warmed your heart how deeply he cared, how badly he longed to protect you. You never came home to an empty table, and every night without fail, he’d run a hot bath or shower for you, wait for you to complete your entire hygiene and skincare routine, and then massage your body with oil sweetly until you drifted off to sleep under his skillful fingers — all while listening patiently as you rambled on about your day.
He would often surprise you with days devoted entirely to your self-care. Anything that resembled a luxury, in his eyes, was something he wanted to gift to you, because to him, you deserved to be adored.
Furthermore, he showed you that nothing about you would ever be an inconvenience to him — something not many others, if any at all, could say and truly mean when it came to him.
Any time you called him — whether it was in the middle of the day during an important work conversation or in the middle of the night after he’d barely gotten two hours of sleep — he never let the line ring more than twice before his rich, velvety, and selfless voice emanated through the speaker: “Hey, baby. Is everything okay?”
His voice alone was enough to make you completely unravel. But hearing the sheer devotion in his words — the way his dedication to you came through so clearly yet so effortlessly — only solidified what you already knew: he was, and always would be, the only man for you.
Rio knew it too. And you never doubted that he felt the same about you. Every moment you shared felt like bliss — so beautiful, it was almost too good to be true.
You wished Rio could’ve joined you today, but he stayed behind to oversee the delivery of your new patio furniture. It wasn’t the most exciting reason to miss a family gathering, but it was just like him — always taking on whatever tasks made your life easier. His quiet acts of service never went unnoticed, and you loved him all the more for it.
Still, though, you missed him.
The tenderness of his smile, the sight and scent of his body, and the vibration of his touch lived on endlessly and rent-free in your head. Whenever you weren’t with him, you were anticipating the next moment that you would be. And so instead of sticking around for the evening fireworks and festivities your family had planned, you pretended not to feel well — unintentionally further fueling your mother’s unwarranted suspicions — and quietly slipped away after lunch, before the next round of activities began.
The entire way home, you could picture it a little too clearly — how easily you’d fold into his lap as he showered your forehead with kisses, just to show how much he missed you. How effortlessly you’d melt into his warm, toned, and tatted arms – admiring how well the dark ink complimented his soft, tanned skin. How soothing it would be to hear his voice and spend the rest of the evening simply existing in his presence. You didn’t want to wait any longer.
“Baby!” you called out again, your voice carrying a hint of eagerness as it echoed off the tall, wide walls of the beautiful home you shared.
Still, no response.
You checked the living room first, half-expecting to find him stretched out on the sofa, snacking on fruit and mindlessly scrolling through the “Recently Added” queue on Netflix — as if he ever paid enough attention to follow what was actually happening in a show. But, much to your dismay, he wasn’t there.
You padded quickly into the kitchen, your steps light and eager. Miscellaneous scraps and dishes were scattered across the island counter – clear evidence that he’d been preparing to make something. But before you realized it, with no cookware on the stovetop or inside the oven, your feet were already carrying you on to the next potential location.
You poked your head into the spacious bedroom you two shared overlooking the skyline of the city, and instantly, your stomach flipped.
White sheets lay disheveled, dangling limply from the edge of the bed, and the sight of them caused your body to stir without permission. A carnal flashback hit you hard – all at once, and a pulse started between your thighs as you recalled him waking you up this morning with his soft lips and his warm, wet tongue, intentionally savoring the supple skin of your breasts while he made slow and lazy love to you.
You wanted nothing more than to run your palms over the taut, toned curves of his chest. But as he sank into you — deeply and unhurried – over and over again, he held your hands in his, fingers intimately intertwined, and he commanded your gaze as his eyes bore into yours unapologetically. It was his way of reminding you just how deeply you two could connect in moments like this.
He continued to coax you closer to your climax, touching you like he knew your body better than you did, and the feeling it gave you was beyond words.
The way his moans sounded – so low and raspy when he whispered “Fuck" and "Good morning, baby.” in your ear while still inside of you...
You swallowed hard and blinked, forcing yourself to move on before your legs gave out right then and there.
The patio was next.
And as luck would have it, there he was—in all his glory. His broad, sculpted back peeked through the thin fabric of his ribbed white tank top as he stood behind the sliding glass doors, one hand shoved into the pocket of his grey sweats while the other held his black iPhone pressed clad to his ear. A trail of muscle shifted beneath his skin as he laughed at whoever he was speaking to, and you couldn’t help but smile.
He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you didn’t mind. You bit your lip and sighed, taking full advantage of the moment to simply admire him —quietly appreciating just how effortlessly sexy he was.
After what felt like only a few seconds, he stiffened — almost like he could feel you watching him — and turned his head just enough to catch you peeking. A warm flush crept into your cheeks as his smile met yours.
You slid the door open and stepped out onto the patio, quietly shutting it behind you and tiptoeing delicately toward him.
“Yeah, right.” Rio chuckled breathily into the phone. “Just make sure you keep him in line.” He spoke calmly, his tone still edged with quiet authority. Then came the switch, smooth and effortless, “Imma have to call you back, though. My baby just walked in.”
Your heart fluttered at the sound of it — my baby. Again, just a reminder that no matter where you were, or how long you’d been gone, you were always his first priority.
“Baby,” you breathed, just as his hand instinctively settled on the swell of your hip. He answered with pursed, plush lips — thick and warm as they pressed into yours firmly. His other hand rose quickly to steady the back of your neck, holding you like he had no intention of letting go. Without a doubt, you welcomed any way that Rio touched you, but by far, this particular grasp took the cake.
He kissed you sensually. Deep enough to make you crave more, but still just restrained enough to leave you aching for it. You could feel the soft flutter of his long lashes against your skin as your tiny, manicured hand wrapped around his wrist. A faint whimper slipped from your lips when he finally pulled away to lick his own and he pressed a stream of gentle kisses to your forehead before pulling you fully into his embrace.
“I missed you so much, baby.” He whispered into your hair. “But I hope you had fun.” The smirk tugging at his lips made it clear that he knew exactly where your head was, but he wasn’t ready to call it out just yet. You knew him well enough to know that he genuinely wanted to hear about your day.
You nuzzled your face into his chest for a moment, inhaling the familiar mix of spice, skin, and whatever cologne he must’ve dabbed on after showering. His hand rubbed slow circles against your lower back, and for a few quiet seconds, neither of you said anything.
Then he gently tipped your chin upward, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“You good?” he asked softly.
You nodded, lips brushing together again as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah… it was nice. Just a lot. My mom kept bringing up grandbabies." you admitted quietly. "And I missed you.”
His mouth curved at the corners, that subtle Rio smirk that never failed to make your stomach flip. “Mmm,” he murmured, “You tell her you’re working on it?”
Your laugh came out softer than air, barely a sound. “I might’ve.”
Rio leaned in until your lips nearly touched again and hummed. “You wanna practice?”
Your body answered before you did — a full-body reaction that started in your core and pulsed outward. You leaned back into him, raising slightly on your toes, lips grazing his jaw as your fingers gripped the waistband of his sweats.
“I don’t wanna wait.”
That was all it took.
In one fluid motion, Rio turned you around and pressed your front to the glass door shifting it ever so slightly out of place, your palms flattening against it as his body came flush behind yours. His hand reached around to pull the sliding door shut again, locking it without ever taking his mouth off your neck.
“Out here?” you whispered, breath hitching as the heat of his body blanketed you from behind.
“Out here,” he confirmed, low and smooth in your ear. “You wanted me. You know you came home early for it. Don’t act shy now.”
His hand slid down the front of your dress, not rushing — just exploring, savoring. His other hand gripped your hip firmly, pulling you back into him so you could feel just how ready he was. He pressed into you, grinding slowly, making it explicitly clear that this was not going to be gentle. Not at first.
“You know how fuckin’ sexy you looked walkin’ across the house this morning?” he growled, voice dropping as he nudged your hair aside and sucked gently at your neck. “That little dress. Those heels. You really thought I was just gonna let you come back home and go to bed after that?”
You whimpered softly, arching back into him as his hand found its way beneath your dress and between your thighs—already slick with need.
“Damn,” he muttered approvingly, fingers grazing the soaked fabric. “You really missed me, huh?”
He pushed your panties aside, running two fingers slowly through your folds, just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy. You gasped, your forehead resting against the cool glass.
“Rio,” you pleaded, but he chuckled darkly behind you.
“I got you, baby,” he murmured. “But you’re gonna be patient. Let me take care of you.”
He hooked a hand around your neck again, guiding you back upright, and kissed you—deeper this time, rougher. The kind of kiss that left no space between your bodies, no doubt who was in control. He turned you to face him, lifting you with ease and setting you gently atop the cushioned patio bench. The new patio furniture — you barely noticed it had even arrived.
Your legs spread instinctively as he kneeled between them, tugging your panties down with one hand while the other trailed along your thigh.
“You remember what I said?” he asked, his voice low and ragged as he stared up at you. “About handling it when you’re tired?”
You nodded quickly, lips parted, breath uneven.
“I’m handling it.”
He dipped his head between your thighs, his mouth hot and skilled and hungry. He devoured you like it had been weeks, not hours since he had you last. Like you were something he needed to survive. His tongue moved in slow, purposeful strokes, building you up until your moans turned breathless and your legs began to tremble against his shoulders.
You came hard — his name falling from your lips like prayer.
Before the aftershocks even settled, he stood, eyes dark and hungry, pulling his sweats down just enough and his thick, throbbing length flung free gently smacking his ripped abdomen. You reached for him instinctively, stroking him slow and being sure to lock eyes as he stared back down at you.
“Turn around,” he said, voice thick with need. “Hands on the railing.”
You obeyed without hesitation.
He came up behind you, teasing your entrance with the thick head of his cock, dragging it slowly along your folds with a loud, guttural moan.
“You still want this?”
“Please.”
With that, he pushed into you slow and deep, filling you entirely all while marking his territory.
His grip returned to your neck, holding you steady as he fucked you with that same quiet but demanding authority he used in every part of his life. He knew your body as well as your limits, and played with them like only he could.
The sounds of the city whispered in the background and the sun seemed to be finally beginning to set, but all you could hear was the low rasp of his voice in your ear, the quiet grunt of his breath when you clenched around him, the soft slap of skin on skin.
“You’re mine,” he growled, burying himself deeper. “Don’t care who looked at you today. You come home to me. You cum for me.”
He drove into you with smooth, measured strokes — each one deep and deliberate, angled perfectly to remind you that he knew every inch of your body, every spot that made your legs tremble and your breath catch. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging possessively into the curve of your hips as he guided your body back onto him, over and over again.
Your figure molded perfectly beneath his hands — hips full, waist narrow, ass high and soft as he filled you from behind. The way you arched for him, the way your body moved without even needing direction — it made him groan low in his throat.
“Fuck, mami...” he hissed, dragging his palm down the small of your back, then gripping a handful of your ass just to feel it bounce beneath his control. He knew exactly what that nickname did to you, but he kept on. “Look at this body," he moaned. "You were made for this shit, baby, I swear.”
You whined in response, your face hot against the cool night air, eyes fluttering shut as his thick cock hit deeper and harder. You could feel yourself unraveling and you were worried you wouldn't be able to take much more – legs shaking, walls clenching tight around him as heat bloomed violently at your core.
“Take it,” he growled through clenched teeth, voice still low, but commanding. “Don’t run from it.”
Fuck. That was all you needed to hear.
With a new rush of energy, your moans turned desperate, head swimming with the intensity of it all. He pulled you up slightly by the waist, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself in you again and again, grinding into that soft spot that made you sob his name. You were soaked, stretched, and aching, but still so determined to meet his every stroke — and he loved every second of it.
“Look at you,” he rasped, one hand moving up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “So fuckin’ good for me. So goddamn pretty.”
As much as you wanted to control it, you couldn't anymore. Your release came like a wave crashing over you — violent and consuming — your entire body trembling as you cried out for him, unable to hold anything back.
But Rio didn’t stop. Not yet.
Now that you were taken care of, he chased his own high with rougher thrusts now, grip locked tight on your hips as he groaned behind you. When he finally came, it was deep, drawn-out, and primal, his fingers digging into your skin as he spilled inside you with a final, shuddering thrust.
You both stilled — sweaty, breathless, trembling in the afterglow.
And then, without a word, Rio slid out completely and turned you to face him, his hands smoothing down the sides of your waist before cupping your ass and lifting you into his arms like you weighed nothing at all.
Your body curled against his naturally, your thighs clinging to his hips, and he carried you over to the cushioned patio lounger draping the decorative blanket you picked out weeks ago over your nakedness. He sat down with you still in his lap, your body resting against the solid heat of his chest as he wrapped his arms around you fully.
One hand roamed lazily over your curves — up your thigh, along the dip of your waist, back to the soft, round fullness of your ass — like he just couldn’t get enough of touching you.
He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another to your shoulder before finally speaking again, voice warm and a little smug. “Now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “why don’t you tell me all about that day you pretended not to enjoy?”
--
get a load of this guy, will ya? xx
