indulgence - Mark Lee (m.)
word count: 1.9k
summary: a night out with the girls, just enough to drink, and a cute boy... things can happen.
warning(s): alcohol and smut.
a/n: i know i’m way behind on requests and the taemin fic needs to be posted (i swear it’s 90% finished) but i stumbled across this post on twitter and i nearly threw my keyboard so here we are... enjoy, i guess?
this fic’s soundtrack: X by the Jonas Brothers (ft. Karol G)
Somewhere in the middle of the bodies crashing and diverging on the dance floor like the waves of an ocean, underneath the rich magenta lights, a young man stumbles into you, probably shoved into the writhing mass of music and desire by one of his friends.
Still, he’s beautiful in a way that catches your attention. Sweet chocolate irises and a bit of innocence about his pink lips, but a touch of sin in the way he looks at you, like you’re the first thing he wants to see when he wakes up in the morning.
Lucky for him, that’s just what you’re looking for tonight.
Two strawberry lemon daiquiris and half a mojito later, you’re pressed up against the back door of the club, the winter breeze tracing along your bare arms and dancing through your hair. One of his hands is on your hip and the other braced on the door, and the sweet caress of his lips is a sugar you think you could get used to.
He breaks the kiss for a moment, just to catch his breath, and asks, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n,” you exhale, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s got a lithe, slender body, but just underneath his shirt you can feel the curves of lean muscle. You don’t doubt that you’re in for a good bit of fun if he decides to do more than just kiss you. “Tell me yours.”
In the dim moonlight, his eyes shine like stars; if you look close enough, though, you see the glitter of dangerous thoughts.
“It’s Mark,” he whispers, nose brushing yours. “Look, this is fun, but... do you wanna do a little more, maybe?”
The suggestion is enough to turn his ears red, how cute, but you’re all for it. “And where would we go?”
He leans in close, hot breath fanning across your skin and making you giddy. “Let me take you to the back of my car.”
“Show me the way,” you say, and before the last syllable falls from your mouth, he’s leading you away from the club, away from the thrum of energy and fervor, and towards a black Toyota Highlander parked off to the side, mostly hidden by a low-hanging willow tree. You clamber inside, sliding to the other side of the car as he shuts the door behind him.
When the overhead light dims and clicks off, Mark advances on you, and you giggle when you find yourself cornered, trapped in place by his arms on either side of you.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he murmurs. He gives you just enough time to register your delight at the compliment before he captures your mouth again, hungrily swallowing the tiny gasp of surprise that escapes you. It’s absolutely sinful, the way he drags you along with his tempo, teasing your lips and mouth with his tongue.
And as he breathes you in and you him, his hands wander down to your hips to pull you flush against him. Your two heartbeats tangle, and your breathing grows heavy and hot to match the burning ache between your thighs. When you reach up to try and tug him back down, lips grazing his, he groans.
“Touch me,” you beg. Already the way his fingers rest on your inner thigh is driving you insane; already the feeling of his hardness on your hip is making you dizzy. It’s been too long since you’ve last felt any semblance of real pleasure. “Mark— ”
“Say it again,” he sighs, bending over to sear a mark into the sensitive flesh of your exposed thigh and looking up at you with those long-lashed, deceptively innocent eyes when you gasp. His voice dips low, alluring and enchanting, “Come on. I like the way it sounds when you beg.”
“Mmm... but what if I don’t want to?”
“Then this,” he says, tapping your lips with a finger, “is all you’ll get.”
You pout, but you’re not going to deny yourself any further, so you tug him in close, so you can feel his breath catch when you whisper in his ear, “Touch me. Pretty please.”
Mark grins in triumph, and if you weren’t so set on getting an orgasm from him, you’d smack him. Still, he pushes your skirt even higher to expose the little white lace panties you’d slipped on earlier that night and hums, “Cute,” dragging a finger along your still-covered slit.
You whine, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck impatiently.
Mark laughs, but he gets the message, and slips his fingers under the waistband of your panties and drags them off, tossing them into the front passenger seat. A moment of uncertainty crosses his face, like he’s really just realized what’s he about to do, and he glances up at you.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can drive us back to my place...”
It’s kind of nice, this sweet side-- but it’s for another night, when you’re feeling gentle, instead of ravenous and starved.
You shake your head, pulling him back up to reassure him with a kiss, trying to convey all of your need in it, all your desire. Then you whisper against his lips, “No, I want you now.”
His eyes widen, then he smirks, and you see the promise of a good time burning on the tip of his tongue. All he says, however, is, “Anything for you, babygirl.”
Mark is annoyingly good at touching you.
For someone you’ve just met, he seems to understand exactly where and how to elicit the most lewd noises from your throat, sounds that you don’t think you’ve ever heard yourself make as he pulls off the rest of your clothing and you help him out of his.
You can’t complain when even in this tiny space, he has you arching your back in sweet pleasure.
“Ah--!” you whimper, as his tongue laves hot against your clit, teasing, playing. And when he slips a long finger into you, electricity threads through you all the way to your fingertips.
You pant and gasp, desperately straining for that release, like letting out a breath after it grows unbearably hot in your chest, like a tightening knot in your stomach about to unfurl. Another finger into your wet folds, and you might just explode.
But he withdraws, mouth dripping with a mixture of saliva and your wetness, shooting you a sly smile. He knows what he’s just denied you.
He presses a soft kiss to your lips before you can say anything, though. “Condom,” he murmurs, reaching over into the front and yanking one out of the glove box. Your gaze falls to the swell visible behind his jeans, and your throat dries as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls his length out of his boxers.
He fists his throbbing cock for a moment, a shuddering breath leaving his lips at the mere touch. He must be sensitive as hell, you think, as he slips the condom on.
“Spread your legs for me, baby,” Mark urges, leaning over you. His breathing is uneven now, and when you lick your lips automatically, he follows the motion hungrily.
The head of his cock nudges against your entrance, and he sucks in a breath. “Okay?”
You nod, and he plunges into you, sliding into your aching pussy with a low groan. He fills you so entirely that you squeak at the sensation, clenching around his hardness and digging your nails into his back. It’s a mix of slight pain and endless, dizzying rapture, and you exhale shakily. “Mark...”
He kisses you with fervor, molding his mouth to yours, tongue flicking filthily inside. He captures your sigh of ecstasy as he thrusts even more deeply into you, holding you so tightly and so closely that you think that every inch of you must be touching. He trails burning kisses down your chin, to your neck, nipping and biting and sucking as he goes. There won’t be one inch of you left untouched at this rate.
He leans back, and you surge forward, bouncing on his cock and drawing euphoric sighs from both of you. Sweat makes the single curling lock of ebony hair free from his gelled hair stick to his forehead, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a more attractive man in your life.
“Ride me, babygirl. I want to see it,” Mark growls, leaving a searing mark on the pulse point on your neck. His hands settle on your waist as you grind down on him.
“God, fuck, you feel so good,” you whisper, kisses landing on his cheek, chin, nose, anywhere but his mouth as you rise and slam down onto his length over and over again. He sinks his fingers into your hair and guides you, just a bit forceful, to meet his hungry mouth, consuming you like you’re the air he needs to breathe.
“Beautiful.” He groans again, and you feel him throbbing inside of you when he says that. You squeeze tight around him, not there, not quite there yet, almost. His eyes blaze into yours, dark with desire. “I feel you-- ah-- so tight-- so close--”
Mark’s hand slips between your two bodies and manages to rub your clit, sloppy circles sparking a hotter, even more intense heat just below your stomach. You choke on your words as you feel it, like a long note of music, about to shatter. “I’m going to come--”
He pulls your ear to his mouth and says, voice dangerous and low, “Come for me, baby.”
The tension holding your body tight like it’s on a string breaks, and you shaking uncontrollably in his arms as you come, sinking one last time onto his length, your heart and the contracting pulse inside of you racing.
“Fuck,” he says, hips stuttering up into you as he, too, comes, heat floods the tip of the condom and sends shivers down your spine. He clings to you, and you notice that your naked bodies are sticking together with sweat. “Ah...”
You stay like that for a couple of minutes, listening to his heartbeat slowly calm. Then you peel yourself off of him as he gingerly pulls out of you to clean up.
He catches you before you pick up the first of your clothes from the floor, yanking you into a gentle kiss, nothing like the needy ones from before. “Thank you,” he says, eyes sparkling again.
“That was fun,” you return, untangling his discarded clothes from yours.
The two of you dress and clean up in silence, and you’re nearly fully dressed again when Mark clears his throat meaningfully, and you turn to look at him. He looks oddly nervous, though you don’t know how he can be after what the two of you have just done. The car absolutely reeks, of your perfume, his cologne, and sex.
“Do you, um.. want to come over? To my place, I mean?”
You pause, halfway through combing your fingers through your messy hair. “What?”
He hastily clarifies. “No, I mean... just to chill. I guess we could, uh, cuddle? And watch a movie. I don’t really want to go home alone, I guess? But you don’t have to if, you don’t want to.”
“What about your friends?”
“They have another car. They’ll be fine. But, um... I could just bring you home, if that’s what you want.” He looks down, clearly regretting having said anything, but you think his nervousness is absolutely adorable, compared to the intense, confident man you’d just witnessed.
You wonder what kind of cute face he’ll show you next.
Fuck it. I’ll indulge him.
You kiss his cheek, laughing at the surprised flush that reddens his face.
“I’m down. Let’s go.”
a/n: wow... okay. it’s been a long time since i’ve posted anything.. maybe this will restore my confidence. NOT THAT I DISLIKE MY WORKS. I JUST. SHOULD BE PROUDER OF THEM--
