series: dolce far niente can be identified as a period of blissful idleness, a sweetness one gains from indolence. each part in this collection will focus on various idylls from the reader's relationship with conrad.
tags: fem! reader, bratty! reader, dom! reader, bf! connie; daddy kink, reader lives to tease; established relationship, mixed power dynamics.
“thank you, daddy.” you bend at the knee, leaning in towards conrad who sat at the edge of the bed, sea-green eyes flickering in anticipation. two of your fingers secure a hold on his chin before you press your lips against his.
your boyfriend's head is already spinning, and you haven't even gotten to the good part yet. he knew he was lucky when you suggested modeling each and every new bikini you'd bought for this summer—bought with his card, more specifically. “anything for my princess,” he vows with a dopey smile on his face.
you redirect your efforts and dig around in the shopping bag beside him on the bed, searching for one suit in particular. you find the two scraps of fabric, and aimlessly toss them into conrad's lap. “hold that,” you tell him, before beginning to peel the clothes from your form.
in his shaky palms, through a diffident grasp, the garment finds a temporary home. he lifts his chin, gaze wavering no longer than a second. fully undressed, you hold a hand out to change into the bikini. “gimme, perv,” you smirk, watching as his cheeks flush.
he clears his throat and swiftly raises the swimsuit up for you to take. you flash your teeth roguishly as a silent thanks and step back to start dressing. he attempts to find his bearings—and a riposte—whilst you slide the bottoms up your legs.
“how ...” he can barely get the words out, spellbound by the show you're putting on for him. you tilt your head curiously as his speech staggers off, still working the top around your chest. it nearly takes everything in him, but he snaps out of his love-tempered trance and continues on with what he was saying. “how am i a pervert if i'm your boyfriend... and this was your idea?”
you shrug, not giving his query any real thought before turning away. with the two strings in hand around the nape of your neck, you turn your head down and to the side, peering back at your boyfriend on the bed.
“ come help.”
the bossy, contradictorily sweet tone has him on his feet in no time, closing the small gap between the two of you and taking hold of the strings. he ties a bow from behind you, dextrous fingers working with haste to secure the top over your chest.
he's just so obedient to every whim you utter, you can't help but praise him. “you're such a good boy, you know that?”
he exhales what could be considered a titter and finishes up with the knot he'd been tying. “i'm such a good boyfriend—key word: boyfriend.” he peppers a few kisses from the tops of your shoulders to the side of your throat.
you crane your neck, tilting the weight of your head opposite to where his affection is spreading. “no denying that,” you giggle when his lips brush against a familiar, ticklish stretch of skin under your jaw.
he withdraws only briefly, just to turn your shoulders around. his hands fall from your body and he takes a step back to fully assess the look. “...wow ,” is all he can manage initially. his gaze slowly, painstakingly, drags up from your chest to meet your eyes.
“you like it?” you sway a little from side-to-side, infectious smile at your lips. he steps closer and places a hand at your jaw, his other palm smoothing over the curve of your waist.
“love it,” he corrects, leaning in to bump his nose against yours. “you look beautiful—you always do.”
hey just wanted to check on you cause it's been a while. I hope you feel less overwhelmed by everything and no matter how long it takes you to come back i will be here front and center for any luke fics 🫡
your support means everything to me, really <3 i wanna try and make a comeback, but i have no clue how that'd look lol i have a bunch of drafts that i'd love to revise and publish so keep tuned :)
I’ve literally been meaning to send this for two months but I just wanted to say that I hope you’re doing well<3 idk if you’ll see this but if you do I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed your fics and I’ll be here if you ever decide to come back! If not that’s fine, and you don’t even have to answer this. I totally understand bc I have my own abandoned writing blog but I just wanted to let you know that I really liked your writing and still read your stuff and still love your luke fic with dealer!r
hi!! omg i'm so sorry i left 😭 i just got so overwhelmed with so many different drafts and i fear my writing skills have taken a severe hit! i appreciate your support so much though, thank you for checking up on me 😚 feel free to hmu in the dms, i'd love to check ur blog out <33
series: dolce far niente can be identified as a period of blissful idleness, a sweetness one gains from indolence. each part in this collection will focus on various idylls from the reader's relationship with conrad.
prompt: your boyfriend cares more about his stupid video game than he does about you!
tags: fem! reader, bratty! reader, bf! connie; established relationship, mixed power dynamics; fluff.
honey's note: taking requests for this series!<3
“connie ,” you pout, tugging at the sleeve of his tee-shirt.
your boyfriend doesn't even blink at the sound of your bleating, far too engrossed in some zombie shooter game that him and his brother bought three—four summers ago. his eyes held an overzealous glint in the coastal hues, having been trained on the screen for what you could only recount as hours. in actuality, it hadn't been more than fifteen minutes, but that was besides the point. he had been neglecting you.
“what's wrong, baby?” conrad's voice lifts to fit a sympathetic tune, though it's swiftly juxtaposed by the lack of eye contact he offers as he speaks to you in it.
a soft whine parts your lips, “pay attention to your girlfriend.”
“five more minutes,” he starts.
“conrad—”
“i promise, just five more minutes, princess.”
he knows he's successfully pacified you when all that follows is a groan of compliance—and he's more than certain an eye-roll is accompanying the gesture. your insistence subsides momentarily, and you settle for as much affection as you can possibly squeeze out of him given his current priority. your arms slink around his waist and you press a cheek against the sinewy muscle of bicep—you're attached at his hip, both figuratively and literally.
“can't you pause?” you coo, simpering faintly.
“can't you wait five minutes?” he retorts, finally shooting a glance or two your way.
an extra thick coat of sugary adulation envelops your words to ensure triumph over the game, “i can't wait five seconds for you, baby.”
the declaration tugs on his heartstrings, just as you had planned, and his cheeks flush an adorable shade of crimson. before you know it, he's abandoned the game and pulled you into his arms; two firm palms discarded the controller in favor of your hips. you hum in content and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer into your embrace. you feel his lips crease against your skin before he murmurs something you can't quite discern.
Giggling and kicking my feet imagining Luke’s reaction when he wakes up and realizes he fell asleep, bros gonna be a mess😭
:)) i'm happy you're excited for the next part! i wasn't sure how to advance things between reader n luke, but i'm reaching a good point now. i hope you enjoy!<33
+ been drafting a few other things in the meantime! got some stepbro! luke, jealous bf! luke, & more dealer! reader separate from the universe in new habits die hard !
2. All I could think of while reading the last little bit of it was that tweet that’s like “need to be praised and spoken to like a puppy when I’m all sleepy” like ik part of it was the weed but it’s so him lmao
(Also that series is just so cute. Loser!luke will take the cake every damn time imo)
lmao that's my princess fr <33 and ur 100% right! sleeping beauty has no shame about it either, not until he wakes up the next morning at least lol. thank u for reading :)
+ i took a gamble on the ending but i've got a few good ideas on where the next part can lead!
alternate universe : takes place in an au! where there are no gods, or demigods for that matter. luke lives with his mother, alone, and takes care of her full-time when he's not off doing odd jobs for the locals.
description : after moving several states away from his home in suburban connecticut, luke found himself in unfamiliar territory and in need of a new plug. lucky for him, you're the town's resident drug dealer.
tags : fem! reader, dealer! reader, loser! luke, au! luke; dom! reader kinda, subby! luke; luke can't handle his weed.
honey's note : somehow this got turned into a slow–burn? next part will contain more action, promise <3
it hadn't been a full week since luke castellan, new to town, stopped by your trailer to get his fix. it seemed out of the question that the plug he'd be buying from would be you. even as he neared the residence for the first time four days ago, impressions formed based on the unkept and rather disastrous front lawn, nothing would have him guessing a girl would be the one behind it all.
his neighbor's son, a permanently befuddled teen who luke deemed ‘nice enough’, offered up your contact as soon as the older boy mentioned smoking. he certainly wasn't your wisest customer, that's a given, but you know he meant well and there's no denying that he definitely did you a service despite his impetuosity.
a few messages are exchanged between you and luke prior to his arrival. you pick the time, telling him to swing by around eleven—it’s later than he cares for, his mother always advised him against driving late at night, but he’ll oblige without a second thought if you're the one asking.
in all honesty, luke didn't even need to pick up more bud—the surplus he underpaid for had only diminished by a gram or so, less than two. still, he wanted to see you again. something in his heart was telling him that it was a necessity not a desire; that you couldn't be separated from actions taken in the name of self-preservation. though, luke wasn't dauntless enough to tell you the truth and he certainly didn't have the confidence to back it up either, so he'd keep that to himself—just for now.
his hands were trembling slightly as he hobbled up the stairs, across the makeshift porch, to reach the front door. even the very tips of his fingers couldn't conceal the fact that his heart was racing.
luke was quick to note that the steps were broken; shoddy craftsmanship combined with neglect over time—the same treatment that the rest of the property had received. for a moment his mind wandered and he thought about how he could fix them up for you; he could fix up a lot of things around this janky, old plot. there's no way he would even think to charge you for the labor, though he has a feeling you'd insist anyway. a payment from your finest stash, luke surmises. but that was neither here nor there, and he needed to prepare himself to greet you.
his right hand forms a fist before connecting with the frame of the door. he knocks twice before adding one more for good measure, a pace behind the other two in uniform.
the crooked door swings open, and there you stand. luke had already been wearing a flare on his cheeks, but it only intensified further at the sight of you in a pair of pajamas. tight short-shorts and a simple tee.
“hey,” you welcome him so casually it makes him feel like a fool for being so nervous. he has no time to properly greet you as planned, instead providing a remarkably sheepish smile as you move a bit to the side, beckoning him through the doorway. “you comin’ in?”
of course he is.
he complies in an instant, more or less meek in appearance as he glides past you. luke takes a few steps away from the entrance of your home, and plants his feet firmly into the warped hardwood of the living room, turning his attention to you in wait.
“so, you smoke a lot or did’ya have to supply your friends some?” you ask after closing the front door shut. the question is brought about with an air of nonchalance, though that does very little to calm his nerves.
he chuckles, feeling both caught off guard and put on the spot. “uh—,” he clears his throat as his eyes flicker to yours. “yeah,” he falters for a moment before finishing with forced conviction, “i kinda smoke a lot i guess.”
you shrug it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, though there isn't much belief in your expression. “sure,” you dismiss, “come sit with me.”
there's not much room for luke to debate. your feet are already in motion and you brush right by him to cross the space, path set for the sofa. luke follows and takes the seat beside you, sinking into the cushion with visible unease. he makes an attempt to get comfortable, and fails, unable to decide where he should put his hands. after several moments and careful consideration, he decides on extending his palms to rest over the expanse of his jeans. in the same moment, you prop the heels of your feet up onto the table in front of the couch, angling your legs into view for the nervous wreck to your right. a small sigh of content draws his attention from the sleek skin of your thighs towards your rosey lips.
that smirk you've formed causes some alarm and his nerves flare up once more. “have you never seen shaved legs or something?” you enunciate each word in your query, goading him into a more playful mood.
his cheeks flush, and he feels like a fool for the second time tonight—must be a skill of yours. tearing his gaze away, he lets out a shaky breath, one that he'd been holding in since he first took that spot next to you. “sorry,” his speech stalls and his eyes warily meet yours again. “i wasn't trying to…” he staggers off, hoping you get the memo—which you do. but there's no fun in not teasing the boy, especially when he's just so easy.
“to perv on me?” you finish for him, smirk left unrestrained and etched into your face.
his eyes widen, slowly leaving yours, and his head shakes from side to side. “i would never,” he stammers quickly to plead his defense.
“i'm just fucking with you,” you reassure him, light-hearted words paired with a jaunty wink. it wouldn't be fair if you were to chastise the boy for simply looking your way, certainly not after the last time he made your acquaintance—and you were doing far more than just looking at him.
you draw your legs back, letting your heels hit the floor, before reaching for some supplies laid out on the table. you unscrew the top of the grinder, unveiling the packed chamber. a whole glut of green and purple tints. your fingers pinch some of the ground weed and you begin filling the bowl for the bong—both crafted from pink glass and marked by hearts. suddenly, your efforts cease and you turn your head to catch his eyes.
“you wanna stay to smoke, right?” you smile a bit ingratiatingly.
luke immediately nods his head; and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight. instead you opt for returning your focus to the task at hand, finishing up and placing the bowl in the stem.
“guests first,” you offer the bong out with a grin luke could only describe as endearing; a contrast to the mischievous curve your mouth usually carries.
there's only one thing replaying in luke’s mind as he reaches out to take the glass from your hands.
he flashes a quick, grateful smile for your hospitality. “thank you,” he mumbles, ignoring the unabated warning currently clouding his thoughts.
your pupils dilate the moment his lips wrap around the same piece you'd had your own two lips on not twenty minutes earlier. such a natural, you praise him without a word. he pulls a hit from the bong with ease, yet coughs on the exhale. the glass, with the bowl still lit and burning through the remainder of the green, is mindlessly passed towards you as he desperately tries to compose himself.
a snicker escapes your throat. instinctively, your hand reaches over the middle of his back and you pat a few beats to aid his efforts. “you okay?” amusement accompanies your concern.
by now, luke was entirely out of sorts; but your chaste touch, an attempt to soothe the discomfort from the smoke infiltrating his lungs, was enough to make him catch his breath and hold it. “luke?” you inquire, curious about his condition.
“i’m fine,” he tries to laugh it off, flustered by more than just the way his name rolls off your tongue. his head turns your direction and for the first time, he makes real eye contact with you—not just for a brief few moments before he inevitably glances away.
a smile lifts your cheeks slightly and you retract your hand from his back. much to his disappointment, you break the contact in favor of taking your own hit from the bong.
there's a few more exchanges of the glass back-and-forth before luke taps out. you hadn't realized he saw each offer of your generosity as some sort of competition between the two of you, to see how much he could handle.
he's melted into the back of your couch, eyes fluttering shut. cute. you’re feeling the effects of that friendly contest too—not as much as he is, evidently. years of smoking every day, all day, granted you a higher tolerance for the substance, and the opportunity to tease your client. “do you have something to prove?” you titter with delight.
“hm ?” luke hums, tilting his chin to view your face instead of the wall he'd been zoning out on.
“i asked if you had something to prove,” you restate plainly. “you know you didn't have to keep up with me, yeah?”
you're drinking in the look on his face by the bucketful. lips parted as his mind whirls, searching for an answer to a question he's already forgotten—“huh ?” his voice comes out more soft and airy than you've recently been accustomed to, not that you'd ever complain about that.
“nevermind, man. just, uh—” you stifle a snicker, holding back from full-on laughing in his face, “—take it easy.”
he mumbles something in confirmation, ‘okay’ it sounded like, and allows his eyes to rest once more.
“sleepy?” you coo, applying a tone one might use on a child rather than the man luke was trying to portray himself as.
he manages a faint chuckle, but barely opens his eyes to respond. “mhm ,” he murmurs, with a dopey grin on his face.
you square your shoulders, leaning against the back of the couch with your thighs flat against the cushioning. “you wanna lay your head down?” you simper.
the weed had mitigated some of luke’s anxiety, and his inhibitions were at an all-time low. “sure,” he agrees, unwavering for a change.
a couple pats drummed on the upper portion of your leg coax him closer. without delay, he kicks his feet up and stretches across the sofa until he's properly situated on his side. with his left cheek now pressed into your thigh, you can feel the soft hum of contentment contained behind his lips. your hand reaches out towards him, fingers seeking refuge in the soft curls atop his head. it doesn't take more than a few minutes for your eyelids to grow heavy, and a small yawn signals the inevitable. when the clock strikes twelve in the trailer, all is silent—apart from the snoring of you and the customer you forgot to sell to.
Omg your dealer!reader was SO good (subby Luke my beloved<3) would you consider writing more for that au?
thank you!!! it was so fun to write <3 i've got something in the works right now actually! definitely gonna turn it into a mini series. hope u enjoy the part two, appreciate u lots mwah
⋮ ✮ ˎˊ˗ still considers herself new to town, to cousin's. can be found on her boyfriend's lap most occasions, or getting high with her girl-friends down by the beach. sand in her hair, sun-kissed skin and glimmering eyes. on her left wrist sports a bracelet, white gold & lacy chain distinguished by her birthstone, conrad had custom-made just for her. never home, always at the fisher's house—sleepovers swiftly became customary by the one month anniversary. susannah's favorite person (after laurel). blasts her old collection of CDs from the passenger seat of her bf's car. expresses her love through menial gestures of physical affection or through quality time. always up for a piggy-back ride or to be carried somewhere. bubblegum stashed in her purse/bag for herself and her bf's little brother. does her best to say the right thing even when it feels impossible. bikini/swimsuit collection forever expanding, models each and every one of 'em for her connie. self-proclaimed film expert. weekly, scratch that, almost daily trips to the local creamery, confectionery—any shop that can supply her with an absurd amount of sugar. procured a drawer, for all her stuff, in conrad's dresser the morning after the first of those many, many sleepovers. dreams of living in cousin's for the rest of her life, with her favorite fisher boy by her side.
alternate universe : takes place in an au! where there are no gods, or demigods for that matter. luke lives with his mother, alone, and takes care of her full-time when he's not off doing odd jobs for the locals.
description : after moving several states away from his home in suburban connecticut, luke found himself in unfamiliar territory and in need of a new plug. lucky for him, you're the town's resident drug dealer.
tags : fem! reader, dealer! reader, loser! luke, au! luke; dom! reader if you squint, subby! luke; luke and reader are both heavy stoners, reader is high during the exchange.
how luke got this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was beyond him. a girl dealer. after a year or so of nothing but egotistical and overly competitive men—luke needed this, needed you.
there he stood: in the confines of some shabby little trailer, on the outskirts of town, that you called home. his cheeks were flushed, tints of red betraying him as he tried his best to remain stoic in your presence. despite the fact that you were obviously high, luke still couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
not that you noticed, or at least you didn't at first; you were too busy leisurely packaging his eighth. your eyes were trained on the scale as you weighed the strain of his choice out, shifting focus to neatly tuck the nugs away into a tiny, pink baggie. a heart embellished the shimmering plastic, a signature that this was from your supply. luke wondered for a moment if there was anyone in town who actually didn't prefer using you—for dealing purposes, of course.
your arm extends out towards your new (favorite) customer. “here you go,” you chirp jovially with a smile. in your hand holds the eighth, sealed and stuffed to the brim.
maybe you gave him more than he paid for, just a bit. but what further justification did you need other than the fact that he was cute, and kinda shy—you liked that in a guy.
he freezes for a moment before reaching out to procure the package, meeting your gaze momentarily before dropping his attention to your hand. a smirk graces your face, delighted, or more accurately amused, by the realization dawning on you.
once the product's out of your possession, he hastily stuffs the eighth away in the pocket of his sweatpants. luke tilts his head up to thank you, but seems to freeze yet again when he finds your eyes scanning his form.
“if you were my boyfriend,” you start abruptly and he watches your eyes slowly meet his, “i wouldn't let you walk around like that.”
his cheeks heat up exponentially, the color darkens against his skin, and he has to stop himself from crumbling entirely when he observes that teasing look you've got plastered across your face. shameless and cruel, by his regard. still, he couldn't deny that he was enjoying every second of it.
he did look pretty slutty, to be frank. a black, tight-fit shirt hugging his abs and those gray sweatpants—they looked amazing on him, but you'd argue they would look even better on the grotty floor of the trailer's one bedroom. your master suite.
following your titillating remark, he swallowed his next breath and let his eyes travel down to survey the clothes he so carelessly threw on hours before. “like… what?” he asked, seeming so nervous that it wouldn't be too far-fetched for someone to misidentify him as utterly terrified.
you chuckle lightly prior to indulging in his curiosity, “like you wanna fuck.”
his eyes instantly snap to yours and his cheeks flare an even deeper maroon. “what?” he nearly chokes on the word. “that's—not,” he stutters, “i was working out before and—”
you cut his pitiful excuse for a defense short, “you've got pretty eyes.” sincerity bleeds through the drug-fueled haze, “it's a shame you don't let me see ‘em too much.”
and without another word, or glance in his direction, you reach for the pre-roll on the table to your left and spark up. he watches intently as you take the first pull, how your plump and glossy lips wrap so delicately around the end of the joint. when your eyes flicker to him, as you exhale some of the smoke, he looks away.
“you gonna pay me or...?” you trail off, keeping a flirtatious tune in your voice. he fumbles around for what he owes in his other pocket, and hands the cash over with a ‘thank you’ and a rather bashful smile.
he leaves the encounter with an eighth in his pocket, your mellifluous voice engraved in his memory, and the feeling that this would only be the start of a new (bad) habit.
⊱ ···· mercurial even on her finest days; her mood changes like the tide. never been seen not brandishing the gold trident necklace luke gifted her, a token of his adoration given years prior to the debut of their relationship. constantly brags about being a child of the big three, still makes her favorite son of hermes pick up the slack when she gets lazy or bored. keeps the other campers in check, keeps her boyfriend in check. well-respected, yet seldom well-received. her resting face always left sulky despite whatever frame of mind she's currently possessing. features soften up as soon as she catches sight of her favorite person—percy, that is. plays the role of big sister like no other; perfect to pair with the camp's honorary big brother. apathetic yet perplexingly emotional, an intricate and fragile coexistence. holds a grudge like no other. treats campers with more kindness the younger they are; preferring the innocence of youth over the poignancy of adulthood. sparingly embraces her playful side and only does so, on occasion, around those she trusts most. takes notice of the little things, a mixed blessing of sorts. loves with a tenderness and compassion that rivals even the most cunning children of aphrodite—or at least that's what her boyfriend says.
honey's note: tsitp fans rise pls!!! more to come <3
conrad’s a smart boy; you already knew this. though many people fail to realize the extent of his intelligence, how naturally skilled he is with romantic or even intimate affairs. he wouldn't call it this, but he plays you like a fiddle. each button he presses gets the exact reaction, consequence he was aiming for. you don't mind too much, though, even if he were to admit it—because what's a little shame matter when it's in exchange for the best head of your life?
times like these always start the same; with the hanging out on the bed, then some making out, and eventually he's got you all hot and bothered. perfect time for him to pop the question: “can i taste you?”
or maybe he's feeling like teasing you more that day, let his playful side run rampant for a change. forget hot and bothered—you’re aching for more, nearly starved from the way he keeps dangling the notion you desire most right before your nose.
kissing you with just enough fervor to leave you panting for your next breath, for more, he pulls back with the faintest of smirks. the look on your face, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over, has him feeling a twinge of pride. he knows he's being a little mean right now, but he also knows you're a few seconds away from begging for it. he's a good boyfriend, how could he say no to you? especially when you blink your lashes at him and pout your lips just slightly, desperately longing for something only he could provide.
he’s gentle when he gets you on your back, legs spread and thighs resting just overtop his biceps. the hold he has on you, his face so close to the most sensitive part of yourself, is firm yet yielding altogether. any sound of displeasure, words to halt his actions—he’s perceptive, open ears because conrad fisher isn't a selfish man. he's caring, in most simplest of terms; though you would come to describe him as, knightly in the way he treats others—treats you.
kisses along your inner thighs signal what's soon to come, no pun intended. with your panties discarded to the side, bunched up with the wetness he'd already elicited from you, he places one last peck before moving to place one on your clit. the action makes your lower half jolt. even so, with the way he's got your legs hooked under his arms, the movement was already being restricting to a mild jerk of your hips. he'll let out an exhale through his nose, almost a chuckle that he manages to stifle just enough (thankfully). the last thing he wants is for you to get all sulky because he ‘laughed at you’—an argument, if you can even classify it as such, that had been brought up in the past. he can't really help it when every little thing he does gets you so riled up. it's endearing, as he puts it; and the fallacy literally dies on your tongue when you're cumming on his that night. “a way to make it up to you,” you vaguely recall him whispering before your memory went blurry from the way your body quite literally melted beneath his touch.
he really is such a smart man. what further way to prove it than with you?
soft, little kitten licks at your slit and his nose bumping oh-so perfectly into your clit. his tongue nuzzles past the entrance when he finally lets himself indulge in the way you taste. instinctively, your velveteen walls clench around the spongy mess probing your insides. he doesn't get greedy, though, no. he'll take his time exploring every crevice and dip in your core, treasuring and mapping out which parts really make you squeal. he knows you—knows you better than anyone. how to make your toes curl, your eyes roll towards the back of your head… all him. never would he dare voice the smug satisfaction he gets when you're holding back a scream of his name, hand clasping at your mouth to muffle the sound. when you reach that peak, he's quick to return back to tracing your clit with his tongue, docile and assuasive. his eyes, having been kept on you the entire time, now wait for yours to open. though heavy and lidded, you manage to meet the gaze of your boyfriend. the pure ecstasy, a result of conrad’s adroitness in regards to eating out, had prevented you from eyeing anything but the back of your head.
when your body settles down, chest no longer heaving from the orgasm, he’d send one lick up your clit before pulling off. with a few kisses to your thighs again, he lets you regain your lost composure before deciding to ask if he can continue. your hand tucking some fingers in the brunette tendrils atop his head let him know that now is the most opportune time for his request. he’d trail a few kisses up past your hips, ghosting your tummy and chest as he hovers above you once more.
“you did a good job, baby,” he murmurs the praise fondly. “got another one you wanna give me?”
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