Ë â red lips. pt 2. | michael jackson Ë â
pairing: thriller m.jackson x fem!reader.
synopsis: after the incident between you and michael at the grammys, at another award show you still arenât over the situation fully and after a couple glasses of champagne, youâre ready to confront diana on her actions. after it not going the way you wanted it to, you gave michael the silent treatment, then showing him what heâs missing out on.
warnings: jealous michael, smut, dominant reader, sub michael but he turns dominant at the end, slight choking, riding, arguing, angst, making up.
a/n: this finna be long so buckle up ladies but iâd say the smut is worth it at the end.
another award show. another red carpet. another night of forced smiles and pretending that you want to be present. you stood beside michael, his arm casually draped around your waist as cameras flashed relentlessly. the paparazzi shouted questions, but you barely registered them over the pounding in your chestâa familiar ache that never quite went away.
the award ceremony went through fast, nothing wrongful happened, michael won a few awards. but he was more aware of what he was doing this time because of what happened previously at the grammys.
the after party was already loud when you spotted her. diana ross, draped in a silver silk, her laughter cutting through the room like a blade. and there was michael, drink in hand, looking uncomfortable but polite as she draped herself against his arm. her manicured fingers traced his bicep, lingering far too long for mere friendship.
your grip tightened on your champagne flute. anger rushing through your body more than anything.
you watched, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, as diana leaned in close, whispering something against his ear that made him stiffen. she didnât step back; instead, her hand smoothed down his arm, possessive and familiar, her body angled toward his like she belonged there. michael didnât push her away immediately, offering a polite, strained smile instead. it was the final straw.
you cut through the crowd, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. âdiana,â you said, your voice carrying an edge despite the alcohol. âi think you might have forgotten where your hands belong.â diana turned, her smirk already in place. âoh, i remember exactly where they belong,â she purred, not even looking at you. âunlike some people.â
âsome people who arenât possessive about what isnât theirs,â you shot back, your voice trembling with suppressed rage. âheâs not a toy you can pick up whenever you want.â
dianaâs laugh was sharp and brittle. âplease. he was never yours. heâs polite. thereâs a difference between manners and ownership.â
âheâs mine,â you hissed, stepping closer. âand youâre crossing a line.â dianaâs eyes narrowed, her smile fading into something cold and calculating. âis he? because from where iâm standing, heâs not pushing me away.â
âbecause heâs too polite to make a scene,â you snapped, your temper flaring hot. âunlike you, he has class.â diana chuckled darkly, sliding her hand further up his arm to rest possessively on his shoulder. âclass has nothing to do with it,â she countered smoothly. âif he was truly yours, sweetheart, he wouldnât be letting me touch him.â
âmaybe he just doesnât want to hurt your feelings by telling you to fuck off,â you shot back, the alcohol making you bolder than usual. the room seemed to go quiet around you. dianaâs face hardened, her composure cracking just for just a second before she recovered with a venomous smile. âcareful, darling. youâre punching far above your weight class.â
âand youâre punching down,â you retorted, your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. âclinging to a man who clearly wants to be anywhere but next to you.â
dianaâs composure slipped completely, her eyes flashing with rage. âat least i have history with him,â she spat. âwhat do you have? a few months of playing house?â
âi have his heart,â you said simply, knowing it was true even if you couldnât prove it publicly. diana scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. âyou have his heart? heâs been in love with me for years. youâre just a distraction.â
âa distraction?â your voice cracked slightly, hurt bleeding through your anger as she just threw your insecurities right in your face. âis that what you think i am to him?â
michael finally stepped forward, his jaw tight. âdiana, thatâs enough. both of you.â
you expected him to grab your hand, to guide you away, to remind everyone in this room who you were to him. instead, his hand touched dianaâs shoulder, gently but deliberately, and you noticed diana leaned into him just slightly.
âmichael, tell her,â diana demanded, her voice saccharine sweet. âtell her how ridiculous sheâs being.â
he sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. âbaby, maybe you should justâŠcalm down,â he said, his eyes avoiding yours. âyouâre making a scene. diana hasnât done anything wrong, we were just talking.â
âshe hasnât done anything wrong?â your voice cracked, humiliation burning hot in your chest. âsheâs practically climbing you, michael. and youâre defending her?â
âiâm not defending anyone,â he said firmly, though his body language said otherwiseâprotective, shielding diana slightly. âiâm telling you to stop. youâre embarrassing yourself.â
âembarrassing myself?â the words came out small, betrayed. âby defending whatâs mine?â
diana smirked, watching the exchange with satisfaction. âlooks like someone needs to learn their place,â she murmured.
âdiana, stop.â michael snapped, finally losing his patience with her. but then, he turned back to you, his expression hardening. âand you, calm down. youâre overreacting.â
overreacting? your heart screaming, your jealously boiling, your man defending another woman?
âiâm overreacting?â you repeated slowly, shocked and hurt. âsheâs all over you and iâm the problem?â
âyouâre marking this about nothing, again.â he insisted, clearly annoyed now. âsheâs just being friendly. youâre being possessive and rude.â
ârude?â diana purred, leaning into michael now, her hand resting on his chest. âsheâs being psychotic, darling. thereâs a difference.â
michael didnât shrug her off. he didnât even seem to notice. he just looked at you with tired, exasperated eyes. âbaby, please. not here. not tonight.â
something inside you broke at that momentâhis exhaustion with you, his defence for her, the way everyone was watching this disaster unfold. you felt tears burn your eyes and you refused to let them fall in front of all these people.
âyou know what?â you choked out, your voice trembling so violently you could barely get the words out. âyouâre right, michael. i am embarrassing myself. by thinking you were actually mine.â
before he could respond, before diana could utter another poisonous word, you turned on your heels, your heels clicking sharply against the marble as you fled towards the exit.
you made it outside before the tears started falling, fat and angry down your cheeks. you couldnât believe what just happenedâhe took her side. he called you rude and possessive. you felt sick, embarrassed, heartbroken.
the cool air hit your face as you stumbled toward the parking lot, your heels catching on the pavement. you didnât call a car. you didnât call him. you just walked, tears blurring your vision, the humiliation burning like acid in your chest.
back at the after party, michael stood frozen, watching the foot youâd disappeared through. âmichael?â dianaâs voice was soft, concernedâbut youâd already gone. he didnât hear her. his eyes were fixed on the empty doorway, chest tightening with an emotion he couldnât name. something felt wrong. heâd chosen the easy path, the one that avoided conflict tonight, but the look in your eyes before you left haunted him.
the front door of hayvenhurst clicked shut behind you, the silence of the massive house swallowing you whole. you didnât turn on the lights. you didnât need to. you knew these halls by heart.
your heels were kicked off somewhere by the front door. you stumbled up the stairs, each step heavy with humiliation. in you and michaelâs bedroom, you finally let yourself break.
you collapsed onto the bed, burying your face in his pillowâstill smelling like him, like home, like love. but none of that mattered anymore. youâd been made a fool of. youâd been called psychotic, possessive, ridiculous. and michael hadnât defended you. heâd defended her.
the tears came harder now, ugly sobs shaking your body.
your phone sat on the nightstand, dark and silent. you stared at it, waiting. for what? an apology? a call explaining that he didnât mean it?
but the minutes stretched into hours. nothing came.
you curled into a ball, clutching his pillow tighter, breathing in his scent through the tears. youâd given him everything.
hours later, the house was dark and quiet. you were asleep, finally exhausted from crying. michael finally arrived home, his steps hesitant as he climbed the stairs. he paused outside the bedroom door, listening to your soft breaths. the silence weighed heavy on him.
he pushed the door open slowly, the moonlight streaming through the windows illuminating your tear-stained face. he felt a pang of guilt so sharp it stole his breath. you looked so small, so broken, clutching his pillow like a lifeline.
he moved quietly, stripping off his suit jacket, shoes, tie. he sat carefully on the edge of the bed.
he reached out tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from your face. his fingers hovered over your cheek, tracing the damp path of your tears. he felt sick with himselfâheâd made you cry like this. heâd hurt you in front of everyone. and for what? to avoid a scene?
as he watched you sleep, he realised something worse than the humiliation youâd felt tonight was the pain heâd caused you. and he couldnât bare it. he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. you stirred slightly, nuzzling into the pillow that still smelled like him.
âiâm sorry,â he whispered against your hair, his voice breaking. âiâm so sorry, baby.â
he stayed there, sitting beside you in the dark, watching the rise and fall of your chest. he thought about dianaâs smirk, your shattered expression, the way youâd walked out alone. heâd failed you.
and worst of all? worst of all, he knew you were right. you werenât being psychotic or possessive. you were being his woman, and heâd let another woman disrespect you right in front of his face. he hadnât protected you. heâd protected his ego.
he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes, the guilt suffocating him. he had ruined everything.
the next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating your cold shoulder. you were awake, staring out the window, giving him the silent treatment. he deserved it. he sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy curls. âbaby?â he tried softly.
you didnât respond. didnât even blink. you just kept staring out the window like he wasnât even there. the silence was worse than any argument, any scream, any accusation. it was the silence of someone whoâd loved too much and been hurt too deeply.
he reached for your hand but you pulled away, getting out of bed without a word.
he watched as you walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. the sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. he felt like heâd been shot. you were ignoring him. you, his happiness, his smile, his everything, was ignoring him. and it hurt. god, it hurt.
michael was at the studio with quincy, attempting to record more songs. but he kept messing up every time.
quincy looked up from the mixing board, growing. âmichael, focus!â he snapped. michael jolted, realising heâd messed up the take again. his mind was elsewhereâon your cold shoulder, the silent treatment, the way youâd pulled away from his touch. he kept replaying the argument in his head, each word like a knife twist.
he ran a hand through his hair, attempting to shake off the distraction. âsorry, q,â he muttered. âletâs try again.â but as he started singing, your face flashed before his eyes, your hurt expression, your silent treatment. he flubbed the lyrics again.
quincy threw his hands up in frustration. âokay, thatâs it. michael, you need to focus.â he ordered. michael slumped against the wall, dragging both hands over his face. he was ruining the session because he couldnât stop thinking about how heâd ruined things with you.
he squeezed his eyes shut, hearing dianaâs condescending voice in his head, followed immediately by yoursâthe pain, the humiliation. and then this mornings crushing silence. you hadnât even looked at him. he felt physically sick, his chest tight. he usually escaped into music, but today even music couldnât save him. he missed you. he just wanted his baby back.
the rest of the week was absolute torture. michael tried everythingâflowers that you left to wither on the counter, endless apologies, expensive gifts you didnât even open. he pleaded with you through the bedroom door, his voice cracking, desperate for you to just yell at him, scream at him, anything but this defeating silence.
âplease, baby,â heâd begged on wednesday night, leaning against the locked bedroom door. âtalk to me. yell at me. hit me. just donât do this.â silence.
on thursday, he tried flowers againâyour favourites, lilies and rosesâleft on the kitchen island with a note he wrote you. you walked past them without a glance.
by friday, he was a wreck. he tried cooking your favourite dinner personally, setting the table with candles, hoping the aroma would lure you out. you walked right past the dining room to your bedroom, not even sparing the effort a glance.
quincy was furious at his lack of focus, his mother was asking questions, and the house felt like a tomb without your voice.
heâd been desperate, cornering you in the kitchen on saturday. âyou have to come,â he pleaded, eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights. âpeople are asking questions. the press thinks weâre done. please, baby. one night. one red carpet. then we canâŠâ he paused, voice dropping. âthen iâll figure out how to fix us.â
youâd stared at him, stone-faced, and for a moment he thought youâd say no again. but then you nodded slowly. âone night.â that was it. no more. nothing else.
so here you were, in the bedroom, getting ready for another awards ceremony. but this one was different. you werenât planning on the matching outfits you both had planned when he first asked you to be his plus one a while back.
you slipped into the dress, turning to check yourself out in the mirror. michael watched, his eyes widening as he took in the stunning sight. the dress was a revenge dress if he ever saw oneâlong, skin-tight, low at your chest, shimmering with sequins, hugging every curve.
âbabyâŠâ he breathed, stepping closer. âyou lookâŠâ he stopped, jaw tight. the dress plunged low, showcasing your collarbones and the swell of your chest. it was breathtaking. it was dangerous. it was absolutely the kind of dress that would have ever man at that ceremony glued to you.
he swallowed hard, hands twitching at his sides.
âyouâre staring,â you said flatly, adjusting the strap.
michael blinked, snapping out of his daze. âiâyeah, of course i am. you look incredible.â his voice was strained. he knew this wasnât the matching outfit you both had planned weeks ago. this was something else entirely.
âweâre not matching,â you stated simply, applying lipgloss without looking at him.
michael swallowed hard, remembering your earlier plansâcoordinated colours, complementary styles. now you stood before him in champagne sequins that left little to the imagination, looking like a goddess ready to make heads turn.
âi know,â he said quietly, his eyes tracing n the curve of your hips.
he watched as you slid into heels that matched the dress, your legs looking miles long. he felt his heart rate quicken involuntarily. this was dangerous territory. you were deliberately dressing to killâto make a statement. to make him jealous. and it was working. god, was it working. âbaby,â
âwhat?â you asked coldly, matching your lipgloss with your dress perfectly. you looked like a goddessâconfident, sexy, revengeful. he realised he was seeing your dark sideâthe one you only showed when you were extremely angry.
ânothing,â he muttered, running a hand through his hair nervously. he knew better than to say anything more. you were like ticking bomb, and he didnât want to be the one who set you off.
the red carpet was chaosâflashing lights, screaming fans, reporters shoving microphones forward. michael played his part perfectly, slipping his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked, his hand rested on the small of your back. âsmile, baby,â he murmured against your ear, flashing that famous smile for the cameras.
you smiled on cue, leaning into him, your hand resting elegantly on his chest. the cameras loved itâmichael jackson looking every inch the doting boyfriend, you the stunning partner hanging on his every word.
âhow are you both?â a reporter called out.
âso in love,â michael answered smoothly, his thumb brushing your hip. âsheâs my world.â
the ceremony was a blur of flashing lights and fake smiles. michael played the doting boyfriend to perfectionâhand on your thigh under the table, whispering sweet nothings into your ear between presenters, leaning in to kiss your temple whenever cameras flashed. you played your part flawlessly, the picture of the supportive, stunning partner.
the after party was crowdedâhollywood elites mingling, champagne flowing, music thumping. michael stayed glued to your side, his hand never leaving your hip. but he noticed the way heads turned as you walked past, the way men did double takes, how his peers couldnât keep their eyes off you in that dress.
he leaned down, lips brushing your ear. âyouâre making everyone insane in that dress,â he murmured, voice low. he wasnât even being jealous or possessiveâjust stating a fact. you looked like a damn dream, and every man here wanted a piece of you.
michael was now deep in conversation with quincy, laughing at some joke. other industry bigwigs had gathered around, clearly enjoying michaelâs company. you stood a few feet away, sipping your champagne, observing the scene unfold. your posture was perfect, your expression calm, your gaze distant.
a tall handsome producer approached you, flashing a charming smile. âi donât think weâve met. iâm julian.â his eyes traveled appreciatively down your dress, lingering on the neckline before meeting your gaze again. âyou look absolutely gorgeous tonight.â
you offered him a small, practiced smile, swirling your champagne. âthank you, julian.â
his hand brushed yours as he took your empty glass, signalling a waiter for a refill. âmind if i keep you company? your date seemsâŠoccupied.â
michael was laughing at something quincy said, completely oblivious.
julian was attractive, successful, exactly the kind of man who would make michael see red.
you tilted your head, letting julian think he was making progress. âi donât knowââ
âcome on,â julian pressed, stepping closer, his hand settling on the small of your backâright where michaelâs usually rested. âone dance. thatâs all i ask.â
you glanced over at michael. he was still talking, still laughing, still completely unaware. your dress was doing its jobâevery man in the room wanted you, including julian.
you turned back to julian, letting a small smirk play on your lips. âone dance,â you agreed softly, placing your hand on his chest. the contact was deliberate, calculated. you knew michael would notice eventuallyâhe always did.
julian beamed, leading you toward the dance floor. as you moved closer to him, you caught michaelâs eye from across the room.
the laughter on michaelâs face died instantly. he watched julianâs hand settle possessively on your waist, pulling you into the rhythm of the music. he saw the way you leaned in, your hand resting comfortably on the producers chestâa gesture usually reserved for him.
his jaw tightened visibly. quincy noticed the shift in his demeanour immediately. âmike? you good?â michael didnât answer.
julian leaned in, saying something that made you laughâa genuine, bright sound that carried across the room. his hand slid lower on your back, dangerously close to crossing the line. you rested your head against his shoulder for a fleeting moment, the picture of intimacy.
across the room, michael turned into stone. he watched another man touch what belonged to him.
michael watched from afar, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. he had never felt this kind of jealousy beforeâit was consuming, overwhelming. he couldnât tear his eyes away from the sight of you laughing with another man, feeling a deep ache in his very soul.
he wanted to be the one making you laugh like that. he wanted his hand on your back, not julianâs. he wanted to feel your head resting on his shoulder, hear your voice soft and sweet in his ear. the ache was physicalâa hollow, desperate yearning that made his chest tight.
quincy was still talking, but michael wasnât listening anymore.
julianâs hand slid lower, his grip tightening possessively on your hip. he pulled you flush against him, his other hand moving to your lower backâtoo low for comfort. he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear whispering something inappropriate. michaelâs vision turned red instantly.
michaelâs hand clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white. he took a step forward before quincy caught his arm, holding him back. âmike, donât,â he warned under his breath. but michael couldnât look away as julianâs lips trailed down your neckâtoo far, too intimate.
without another thought, michael pushed past quincy, his long strides eating up the distance between you and julian. he reached the dance floor in seconds, his eyes blazing with jealousy. he grabbed julianâs wrist, yanking his hand away from your hip with a force that startled both of you.
michael looked at you, jealousy blazing in his eyes. âyour fun is over for tonight,â he hissed through gritted teeth, his fingers tight around your wrist as he dragged you through the crowd and toward the exit. he didnât even spare julian a glanceâhe was too furious, too consumed by jealously to acknowledge the man. the only thing that existed was you, and he was getting you out of there. now.
bill was already stationed beside the back door of the limousine, holding it open before michael even reached the pavement. he sense the explosive energy radiating off of him and moved quickly, opening the door just as michael practically shoved you inside.
michael followed immediately, slamming the door shut behind him with a deafening thud. âdrive, please,â he said to bill sharply, locking the partition.
the limousine lurched forward abruptly as bill sped off, the sudden movement throwing you back against the the seat. michael sat across from you, chest heaving, eyes wild, breathing heavily. he was angryâno, he was furious. his jaw was clenched tightly, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
âwhat the hell were you thinking?â his voice was low, dangerous. he reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. âlet another man touch you like that? kiss your neck? hold you so intimately?â each question came out tighter than the last, his jealousy evident in every word.
âyouâre mine,â he snarled, his thumb pressing into the soft skin of your chin. âonly i get to touch you like that. only i get to hold you, kiss you, make you laugh.â his thumb rubbing your skin softly, âyouâre wearing my ring, remember? that means something.â
his possessiveness only fuelled your pent up anger, creating a volatile mix of emotions between you two. your eyes flashed with defiance as you tore your chin from his grasp. âoh, so now touching other people is a problem?â you snapped, your voice laced with sarcasm.
âdonât bring that up,â he warned, his voice dropping dangerously low. âthat was different and you know it.â
âwas it?â you challenged, leaning closer to him, your strap slipping down slightly. the tension between you was suffocatingâjealousy, anger, desire all swirling together.
âit was completely different,â he insisted, his grip on your knee tightening as you leaned closer. the scent of your perfume filled his senses, making his head swim. âi was being polite to diana. that man was practically fondling you.â
âand if i remember correctly,â you added sweetly, watching his jaw tense, âyou were âbeing politeâ with diana too. your hands were all over her. your lipsâŠâ you paused deliberately, watching for his reaction. âwere they just âbeing politeâ too?â
âstop,â he commanded harshly, the word cracking like a whip. âyou donât understand what happened.â
âdonât i?â your voice was sharp, cutting. âi saw exactly what happened. your hands in her waist, her hands all over you, her kiss on your jaw. that wasnât âpolite,â michael. that looked intimate.â you poked his chest for emphasis. âsound familiar?â
his hand shot out, gripping your poking finger firmly. âit meant nothing,â he hissed, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. âshe was just being friendly. i was being polite. there was nothing between us.â his dark eyes searched yours desperately. âyou know i only want you. only you.â but your anger remained, fuelled by his hypocrisy.
âthen why does it feel like im the the one who has to prove myself constantly?â your voice wavered slightly, anger giving way to hurt. âi stand by your side, play the perfect girlfriend, smile for the camerasâand then i watch you touch diana like she matters.â you shoved at his chest. âthen some producer touches my neck and suddenly im the problem?â
âyouâre not the problem,â he said, michaelâs voice cracked slightly, vulnerability breaking through his anger. he released your finger, his hand moving to cup your cheek insteadâgentle this time. âyou understand that, donât you? youâre not the problem. never.â his thumb brushed your cheekbone. âi justâŠâ
âi saw him touching you and i lost my mind,â he admitted quietly, his jealousy finally making sense. âit made me realise how much it must have looked to you with diana.â he paused, swallowing hard. âi was being friendly, but i see how it looked from your perspective.â
his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. âiâm sorry,â he muttered, his forehead resting against yours. âiâm sorry i didnât consider your feelings that night. iâm sorry i hurt you.â his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against him. âplease donât be angry with me anymore.â
you remained silent, your arms crossed over your chest as you stared out the window. the tension was thick in the air, but there was a new understanding between you two. michael watched you carefully, his thumb absently stroking your neck as he held you closerâwaiting for your response.
âsay something,â he whispered, his breath warm against the side of your face. his eyes dark searched your face desperately, waiting for any sign that youâd forgive him. the limo swayed gently as it moved through traffic, the only sound between you two. his thumb traced gentle circles on the side of your neck, right where julianâs lips had been not long ago.
âiâm still mad at you,â you finally muttered, though your resolve was weakening under his touch. your arms slowly uncrossed, resting limply at your sides. âyou canât just grab me and expect everything to be fine, michael.â
âi know,â he murmured against your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
the limo pulled through the gates of hayvenhurst, the familiar estate glowing under the moonlight. bill helped you out, giving michael a knowing look before driving off. michael led you inside, his hand firmly on the small of your back as you walked through the grand entrance. the house was quiet, empty except for the two of you.
as soon as the front door clicked shut behind you, you turned on your heel and pushed michael back against it. your hands slid up his chest, gripping the lapels of his jacket and yanking him down for a bruising kiss. you poured all your anger, jealously, and pent-up desire into it, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
âcareful,â he murmured against your lips, his hands going to your waist and slowly sliding down to your hips. he deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth entirely. he tasted minty and familiar, you missed him since you had ignored him for a whole week.
his hands slid over your body before he lifted you effortlessly. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. he walked you both up the grand staircase, never breaking the kiss. âbedroom,â he managed between desperate breaths, his voice rough with need.
you tore your mouth away, panting heavily as he carried you up the stairs. you started ripping at the buttons of his shirt. they popped off and scattered across the floor as you exposed his chest. you leaned down, biting and sucking marks into his collarbone, marking him as yours.
michael groaned low in his throat, his grip tightening on your thighs as you sucked a dark mark just above his collarbone. he practically kicked the bedroom door open, carrying you inside before dropping you onto the mattress. you immediately started taking your dress off, tossing it aside as michael stripping his shirt and jacket to the floor. âstill mad?â he challenged.
you didnât answer with words. instead, you planted a hand firmly against his chest and shoved him onto his back. you straddled his hips instantly, pinning him to the mattress. âwatch me,â you ordered, grinding your hips down against his erection. you leaned forward, wrapping your hand around his throatânot squeezing, just claiming. âiâm in charge tonight.â
his breathing hitched at your touch, dark eyes darkening with pleasure as he watched you dominate him. you were like a caged animal releasedâhungry, wild, unapologetic.
you unbuckled his belt and tied his wrists together above his head, laughing softly when he tried to reach you. âstay still,â you commanded, grinding down again. âthis is what you get for hurting me.â
he lay there, bound and at your mercy, his chest heaving as you teased him mercilessly. you leaned down, kissing him deeply while grinding your core against his hardness. his hips bucked instinctively, trying to to get friction where he needed it most. âfuck,â
âplease,â he groaned, his voice breaking as you moved against him. his bound hands flexed, straining against the makeshift restraints as he watched you with heavy-lidded eyes. âbaby, pleaseâŠi need you.â you smirked against his neck, nipping at his pulse point. âneed me?â you mocked softly. âor do you need diana?â
his body tensed beneath you. âdiana doesnât make me crazy like this,â he choked out, his hips lifting desperately. âitâs not her name i moan. itâs not her face i think about when iââ you cut him off by pressing your thumb against his throat, squeezing just enough to make him shut up and to make his eyes roll back.
âthatâs what i thought.â you released his throat, trailing hot kisses down his chest instead. your hands slid between your bodies, teasing his length as you watched his face contort with need. âtell me who you belong to,â you demanded, your voice low and dangerous. his hips jerked upward, seeking friction. âyou,â he gasped, his dark eyes locking onto yours. âonly you. always you.â
you didnât need another word. you slid his pants and boxers down his legs, freeing his hard dick before sliding back up his body and positioning yourself over him, sinking down without warning. he cried out beneath you, head thrown back, chest heaving as you took every inch. âthere it is,â you moaned, rolling your hips. you leaned over his bound body, controlling the pace mercilesslyâslow, deep strokes that made his thighs tremble. âmine.â
his bound hands tugged desperately at the restraints, frustrated whimpers escaping his throat. âlet me touch you,â he begged, his dark eyes pleading up at you. âplease, i need toââ
you just smirked, speeding up your hips now without mercy. âno,â you breathed, leaning down to suck bruises onto his neck. âyou get to watch.â
âopen,â you commanded, sliding two fingers between his parted lips to silence his whines. his tongue immediately curled around your digits, sucking on them eagerly. âthis is what you wanted, isnât it?â you panted, riding him harder, your hips snapping down viciously. âto be used? to have me remind you exactly who owns you?â
his gagging moans fuelled your arousal as you rode him relentlessly, your free hand reaching between your bodies to circle your clit in time with your movements. âlook at me,â you demanded, watching his face contort with pleasure. you leaned down, whispering against his ear. âiâm going to make you cum so hard youâll forget your own name.â
his eyes rolled back at your words, his bucking helplessly beneath you. âfuck, babyââ he choked out around your fingers that then slid down to his throat, resting there. âiâm so close, im gonnaââ you slammed your hips down hard, grinding your clit agent his base. âcum for me,â you ordered, kissing his lips. âright now.â
his orgasm ripped through him violently, his bound hands twisting in the sheets as he spilled into you with a moan of your name. you kept riding him through it, using him to bring yourself closer to the edge. âthatâs it,â you praised darkly.
you freed his hands from the restraints of his belt, watching him immediately grab your hips with force. his restraint snappedâhe flipped you onto your back, now pinning your wrists above your head as he drove into you relentlessly.
you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he fucked you mercilessly. your nails dug into his shoulders, back arching as he hit a sensitive spot. âthere,â you moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back. âharder, right thereâfuck!â
âyou feel so good,â he grunted, slamming into you with punishing strokes. his free hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles.
your moans filled the room as you came undone, his relentless thrusts and skilled fingers pushing you over the edge. your pussy clenched around him desperately, pulling him deeper as you rode out your high. âthatâs it,â he panted, his movements slowing as he watched you with satisfaction.
he collapsed on top of you, both of you gasping for air, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. his lips found your neck, pressing lazy kissed there as he slipped out of you. âmmm,â he hummed against your skin. âstill mad?â
you slapped his shoulder weakly with a giggle, âshut up.â
he chuckled, nuzzling into your neck. âi love you,â he whispered, his voice genuine and heartfelt. the room was silent for a moment before you responded, your voice soft but sincere. âi love you too, idiot.â he laughed quietly pressing a kiss to your jaw.
