٠࣪⭑ SWEET DEFIANCE ;1989
ᥫ᭡. description: one stubborn argument, a pair of vibrating panties, and a crowded paris restaurant. trapped in the back of a luxury sedan, the remote control turns a petty power struggle into a breathless, desperate surrender.
content: 18+, smut, vibrating panties, bad!michael, public, car sex, dryhumping, feet play???, arguing, extreme teasing, THIS FREAKY ASF …
˗ˋˏ༺❤︎༻ˎˊ˗
the rain was tapping against the hotel window in paris, a soft, steady rhythm that did absolutely nothing to calm the storm brewing inside the luxurious suite. the air was thick, heavy with the kind of silence that makes your ears ring.
you and michael had been arguing for forty-eight hours straight. it had started over something incredibly stupid. he was being impatient, rushing you to get ready for some big press event he had to attend, and your stubborn streak had kicked in hard. you had refused to let him hurry you, digging your heels in, and before either of you knew it, the whole thing had blown up into a massive, exhausting argument. you had spent the last two days sleeping on opposite sides of the massive king bed, barely even making eye contact.
but tonight was different. tonight, you had reservations at one of the most exclusive, hardest-to-get-into restaurants in all of paris. it had taken michael’s team months of pulling favors to secure a table, and despite the heavy wall of anger between you, neither of you wanted to back down and cancel. it was a matter of pride. you were both going to see this through, even if it meant sitting in icy silence across from each other all night.
you stood in front of the gold-trimmed vanity mirror, carefully zipping up a gorgeous, backless silk dress. it hugged every curve of your body, the dark fabric making your skin glow under the warm lights of the dressing room. in the reflection, you saw michael step into the room. he stopped dead in his tracks.
for a split second, his jaw slackened. his dark eyes softened, melting from the hard, annoyed expression he’d been wearing for days into pure, unfiltered admiration. he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
"you look beautiful, baby," he murmured, his voice soft, husky, and filled with a quiet sincerity that almost made you want to drop your guard right then and there.
for a moment, the thick ice between you started to thaw. you felt a blush creep up your neck. but instead of saying anything, you just turned around to grab your undergarments from the vanity drawer, wanting to keep up your protective wall.
michael always had his team stock your wardrobe with beautiful things whenever you traveled together. there were boxes of designer clothes, shoes, and lingerie waiting for you in every city. so, when you reached into the drawer and pulled out a pair of silky black panties you didn't quite recognize, you didn't think twice. you liked the lace detailing and the sleek look of them, so you stepped into them and pulled them up.
michael’s eyes went wide. his jaw practically dropped to the floor, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant from romantic admiration to sheer panic.
"wait, no, no. don't put those on," he said, his voice suddenly urgent as he stepped toward you, holding his hands up as if to stop you.
you snapped your head up, your stubbornness flaring right back to life. "why not? they're cute. and you bought them, didn't you?"
"yes, i bought them, but they aren't for going out," he said, a sudden flush of red creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones. he looked incredibly flustered, trying to maintain his polite, gentlemanly composure while clearly panicking. "they're... they are different, sweetheart. please, just take them off and put on a normal pair. we have to go, and those are not suitable for a restaurant."
"suitable?" you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "you've been rushing me and being impatient all day, michael. now i finally find something i actually want to wear, and you're telling me no? what is your problem?"
"i'm not trying to be difficult," he said, taking a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep his voice calm and gentle even though his eyes were wide. "i am telling you, as a gentleman, that wearing those tonight is a very, very bad idea. please, listen to me just this once. change into something else."
your stubbornness was like a brick wall. the more he pushed, the more you wanted to resist. "no. you don't get to tell me what to do just because you're in a bad mood. you're always trying to control everything around you, michael. i'm wearing them, and that's final."
"i am not trying to control you!" he argued, his voice rising an octave in pure frustration, though he still kept his hands neatly tucked near his sides, trying not to look aggressive. "you are being incredibly stubborn right now, and you don't even know what you're doing. just listen to me!"
"i'm leaving," you snapped, grabbing your small clutch purse from the vanity. "the reservation is in twenty minutes. meet me in the car if you're actually coming."
you turned on your heel, your heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor as you marched out of the suite and slammed the door behind you.
michael stood alone in the dressing room, running a hand through his curls, letting out a long, stressed exhale. his eyes fell on the nightstand, landing on a tiny, sleek black remote control that had been hidden behind a jewelry box. a sudden, dark, mischievous look crossed his handsome face. the perfect gentleman in him knew he shouldn't, but the frustrated, teased man in him won out. he walked over, snatched up the remote, slipped it deep into his trousers pocket, and headed out to catch up with you.
the ride to the restaurant in the back of the town car was completely, painfully silent. you stared out the window at the glowing lights of the eiffel tower, refusing to look at him. michael sat on his side of the seat, his hands resting on his knees, his face a mask of polite calm, though his fingers occasionally twitched against his thighs.
when you arrived at the restaurant, it was everything you expected. the lighting was low and romantic, the air smelled of expensive truffles and aged wine, and the dining room was filled with the soft murmur of wealthy patrons and a few very recognizable celebrities. you both kept it casual, nodding politely to a couple of people who recognized michael, putting on a perfect front for the public.
the host led you to a cozy, secluded booth in the corner, offering a bit of privacy while still keeping you in view of the rest of the room. you sat down across from each other, the small table with its crisp white tablecloth the only thing separating you.
"are you still going to pout all night?" michael asked quietly, leaning forward slightly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. his voice was soft, but there was a sharp edge of frustration underneath it.
"i'm not pouting. i'm enjoying the silence," you shot back, keeping your voice low as you gave him a sweet, incredibly fake smile. "it's much better than listening to you rush me."
before michael could reply, a waitress smoothly approached the table. "bonsoir, welcome to l'ambroisie. i am celline, and i will be taking care of you tonight. can i start you with some of our finest champagne before the first course?"
as the waitress spoke, you kept your eyes on michael, giving him another defiant, stubborn look.
michael didn't say a word. instead, he kept his polite, gentle smile fixed on the waitress, but his right hand slipped slowly into his pants pocket.
his thumb found the power button. he clicked it. a sudden, violent, buzzing hum exploded right against your clit.
"ah—!" the gasp ripped out of your throat before you could stop it. your eyes flew wide, your pupils dilating instantly as a massive shockwave of intense, concentrated heat shot straight up your spine and buzzed through your brain. your body reacted instantly; your thighs clamped shut so hard and fast that your knees knocked against the underside of the table with a sharp thud, causing the water glasses to jingle.
the waitress paused, her pen hovering over her pad. she blinked, looking at you with concern. "are you alright, madame?"
you looked at michael in absolute, horrified shock. your heart was hammering against your ribs, and your breath was suddenly shallow. you couldn't believe it. the panties. they were vibrating. and he had the remote.
michael didn't even flinch. his face was a picture of pure, gentlemanly innocence. he looked at the waitress with a soft, reassuring smile. "she's quite alright, thank you, celline. the paris air is just a bit chilly tonight, and she's a little sensitive to the draft. we will gladly take the champagne, please. and perhaps you could keep the ice water coming throughout the evening?"
"of course, monsieur. right away," celline nodded warmly, completely charmed by his polite demeanor, and turned to walk toward the bar.
the very second her back was turned, you leaned across the table as far as you could, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the mahogany wood. the low, steady hum between your legs was relentless, sending continuous, warm waves of friction directly against your most sensitive spot. you could already feel a heavy dampness blooming in the silk fabric.
"michael," you hissed, your voice shaking so hard you could barely get the words out. "what is this? what did you do to me?"
michael leaned in, resting his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together right under his chin. he looked incredibly handsome, but his eyes were dancing with a dark, wicked amusement that made your stomach flip.
"see why i told you not to wear those, baby?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, velvety purr that was meant for your ears only. "you never want to listen to me. you get so stubborn, and i really, really hate that."
he slid his hand back into his pocket. click. the frequency changed. instead of a steady hum, it began to pulse in a rhythmic, throbbing pattern—slow, then incredibly fast, then slow again.
"oh god," you whimpered, your head dropping. you squeezed your thighs together as hard as you could, desperately trying to stifle the physical sensation, but the pressure only pushed the small, hard motor of the toy directly against your swollen clit. you gasped, a tiny, breathless moan slipping past your lips. you had to bite your tongue to keep from making a scene in the middle of the crowded dining room.
"turn it off," you whispered, glaring at him through eyes that were already glazed over with sudden, intense arousal. "michael, i swear to god, turn it off right now. this isn't funny."
"i'm not laughing, sweetheart," michael replied, his voice still incredibly calm, polite, and steady, though his eyes were burning as he watched your chest heave. "you wanted to be a big girl and make your own decisions. now you have to live with them. i tried to warn you, but you just had to walk out that door."
"you're a jerk," you gasped out, your body trembling as a particularly strong pulse of vibration hit you, making your hips twitch slightly against the plush leather booth. "a selfish, impatient, petty jerk."
michael's jaw clenched. the smug, playful look on his face vanished, replaced by a flash of genuine, frustrated heat. he did not like being called names, especially when he was already running on forty-eight hours of sexual frustration from your arguments.
"is that what i am?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously low. "well, if i'm so petty..."
he reached into his pocket to press the button again, but before he could, a loud, booming voice interrupted the quiet tension of your table.
"michael! my good friend! i cannot believe my eyes!"
you both snapped your heads up. walking toward your table was a very famous european film director, a man michael had worked with on a music video project a couple of years ago. he was loud, flamboyant, incredibly chatty, and loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice.
michael immediately stood up halfway, his professional, polite persona snapping back into place instantly. "pierre! what a wonderful surprise. i didn't know you were in paris."
"ah, just for a few days to scout locations!" pierre boomed, stepping close to the table and shaking michael's hand warmly. "and who is this lovely lady? you must introduce us!"
"this is my fiancée," michael said smoothly, his hand resting casually in his pants pocket. he shot you a quick, warning look. it was a silent command: behave yourself and act normal.
you forced a tight, polite smile onto your face, even though your entire lower body was buzzing like a live wire. "nice to meet you, pierre," you managed to say, though your voice sounded incredibly breathy and strained.
pierre didn't seem to notice. he launched into a long, incredibly detailed, and fast-paced story about his new film, his frustrations with his producers, and his love for french cuisine. he was clearly not going to leave anytime soon.
michael stood there, nodding along, offering polite "uh-huhs" and small smiles, keeping up the appearance of a perfect gentleman. but you could see the tension in his shoulders. his hand was still buried in his pocket, his thumb resting right on the remote.
a sudden, wicked wave of defiance washed over you. your stubbornness wasn't gone; it had just mutated into something far more dangerous. if michael wanted to play games with a remote control in a crowded restaurant, then two could play.
slowly, carefully, you slipped your right foot out of your designer high heel. the cool air of the restaurant felt like ice against your bare skin. under the cover of the long, heavy white tablecloth that draped all the way to the floor, you stretched your leg across the small gap between your seats.
you found his ankle first. you slowly slid your bare toes up his calf, feeling the fabric of his expensive trousers. the very moment your foot made contact, michael's entire body went rigid. his polite nod frozen for a microsecond.
he didn't break eye contact with pierre, but his breathing suddenly got noticeably heavier.
you smirked, feeling a rush of power. you kept going. your foot slid slowly past his knee, traveling up his inner thigh. the heat radiating from him was intense. you kept sliding your foot up until the arch of your bare foot pressed directly against the heavy, rapidly growing bulge in his pants.
michael choked on his own saliva mid-sentence. "...yes, the... the lighting in that scene was... very... creative, pierre."
pierre frowned slightly, looking at him. "are you alright, michael? you sound a bit choked up."
"just... dry throat," michael cleared his throat, his eyes darting down to glare at you with a mixture of shock, frustration, and intense lust.
in immediate retaliation, michael’s thumb aggressively mashed the button inside his pocket.
the vibrator instantly jumped to its absolute highest, wildest setting.
"mmph!" you bit your bottom lip so hard you could taste the metallic tang of copper. your eyes rolled back for a split second as a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. your body shook, your toes curling as the high-powered vibrations literally buzzed through your entire nervous system. your core was pooling with heat, completely soaked, and your body was screaming for release.
but you refused to let him win. you refused to pull your foot away. instead, you curved your foot, gripping his hardness through the fabric of his suit. you began to slowly, deliberately stroke him. you rubbed the arch of your foot up and down his length, pressing hard, letting him feel exactly how much he was affecting you, and how much you were going to affect him in return.
michael's face flushed a bright, deep red. a thick vein popped out on his neck, and his knuckles turned completely white where he was gripping the edge of the table to keep his balance.
"michael?" pierre asked, now looking genuinely concerned. "mon ami, you look very hot. are you having a fever?"
"i... yes," michael gasped out, his voice incredibly husky, thick, and completely ruined. he couldn't keep his composure for another second. his hand in his pocket was shaking. "it is... very warm in here. pierre, please excuse us. my fiancée... she is feeling very ill. we must leave immediately."
"oh! of course, of course! take care of her!" pierre said, stepping back.
before the director could even finish his sentence, michael grabbed your hand, pulled you out of the booth, threw a messy fistful of hundred-dollar bills onto the table without even counting them, and practically dragged you out of the restaurant and into the cool, rainy paris night.
the moment the heavy door of the luxury town car slammed shut, the quiet interior of the vehicle felt like a pressure cooker ready to explode.
before the driver, jean, could even put the car in drive, michael reached forward with a sudden, aggressive jerk and slammed the black privacy partition shut. the sharp clack of the glass sealing you off was the starting gun.
"what the hell was that?!" michael turned on you, his voice deep, angry, and completely stripped of his usual gentle tone. but his eyes were wide, dark, and wild with a dangerous amount of lust. he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you across the leather seat until your chest slammed against his. "you almost embarrassed us in front of one of the biggest directors in europe! you are so incredibly stubborn, you never listen to a single word i say!"
"because you treat me like a child!" you yelled back, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and overstimulation. "you left those panties in my drawer on purpose! you wanted me to wear them!"
"i bought them for us to use in bed!" he growled, his gentlemanly restraint finally snapping. "not for you to tease me with under a table in public!"
before you could shoot another smart remark back at him, michael’s lips slammed down onto yours.
the kiss was rough, messy, and absolutely explosive. it was filled with the bitter taste of forty-eight hours of arguing, mixed with a desperate, starving hunger that had been building between you for weeks. you groaned loudly into his mouth, your hands flying to his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue demanded entry, tasting you deeply.
you couldn't take the distance anymore. you needed him. you scrambled up, swinging your leg over his lap until you were fully straddling his thighs, your dress riding up to your hips.
the very second your pelvis slammed down onto his hard length, you both let out a loud, breathless gasp.
the vibrating toy was trapped perfectly between your pubic bones. the heavy, intense vibrations from the high setting were transferring directly through the thin lace of your panties and right into his throbbing erection, while pressing relentlessly back against your swollen, wet clit.
"oh, god," michael groaned, his head falling back against the leather headrest. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist. "oh, baby... what are you doing to me?"
"now you feel it," you whimpered, your head spinning as the crazy high vibration buzzed straight through your pelvis, vibrating through his hard shaft at the exact same time.
you began to grind your hips down on him in a slow, heavy circle, your wet heat rubbing ruthlessly against his zipper. the dual stimulation was so intense your vision blurred. you could feel him twitching under you, rock hard and straining against his pants.
"i was just so mad," michael confessed, his voice breaking, completely vulnerable as he looked up at you with blown-out, glassy eyes. his hand shook in his pocket, hitting the pulse button again, making the toy beat in deep, heavy thuds right against your clit. "i hated... i hated fighting with you so much. i didn't want us to be like this. i was just being impatient because i wanted everything to be perfect for us, and then you wouldn't even look at me."
you let out a soft cry, your body melting as the sheer pleasure of his words and the heavy thrumming between your legs began to break down all your anger. "i wanted you too, michael. i was just so stubborn... i thought you were just trying to control me, and it made me so angry."
"i would never want to control you, baby," he gasped, his hips bucking up slightly, sending a wave of electric friction right through your soaked lace. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry i rushed you. i'm sorry i was so impatient."
"i'm sorry too," you cried out, tears of overwhelming pleasure finally leaking from your eyes as you buried your face in his neck, biting the soft skin there as you ground down harder. "i'm sorry... oh god, michael, it feels too good."
"yes, yes, grind on me, sweetheart," he groaned, his hands moving from your waist to grip your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling you down hard against him. "show me how much you want me. tell me you're mine."
"i'm yours," you gasped, your body completely taking over as you began to dry hump him with a fast, desperate hunger. the thick fabric of his suit pants and the silk of your dress created a burning, tight friction that was driving you both insane. you were completely soaked, the wetness bleeding through your lace and dampening his trousers.
every time you slid down, the toy buzzed violently against your clit and his shaft, sending sharp, electric jolts of pleasure straight to your brain.
michael was panting heavily, his neck flushed red, his head tossing from side to side against the leather seat. "god, you're so wet... i can feel you soaking right through my pants, baby. you're driving me crazy. grind harder, yes, just like that."
you moved your hips faster, matching his desperate, upward thrusts. the car cabin was filled with the hot, heavy sound of your wet friction, the frantic buzzing of the toy, and your mingled, breathless moans. you could feel the tight coil of your climax wrapping tight in your lower stomach, threatening to snap.
"michael, i'm close... i'm going to come, oh god, i can't hold it," you sobbed, your hands clutching his broad shoulders, your fingernails digging into his skin through his jacket.
"come for me, baby. rub right against me and let it go," michael pleaded, his voice completely wrecked, his hips bucking up with a heavy, relentless force to meet every single downstroke. "let me feel you shake."
you let out a loud, uninhibited cry as your climax ripped through you. your internal muscles clamped down hard, pulsing in tight, desperate waves against him. the sheer, raw intensity of the orgasm made your entire body tremble, your head falling onto his shoulder as you sobbed from the pleasure.
seeing you undo like that broke michael completely. with a loud, guttural roar, he bucked his hips up hard, his body locking up as he came. his release came in heavy, hot surges, soaking completely through his underwear and the expensive grey wool of his trousers, staining them as he pumped desperately against your twitching body.
you both collapsed against each other, chests heaving in perfect sync, your hearts hammering wildly against each other's ribs. the car was quiet, save for your ragged breathing and the slow, dying hum of the vibrator as michael finally turned it off.
after a long, quiet minute, neither of you moved. you just held each other tightly, the lingering sparks of pleasure slowly fading into a warm, comfortable glow.
then, a soft, bubbly laugh escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet car. michael let out a breathless, beautiful chuckle of his own, burying his face in your messy hair and kissing your temple. "we are absolutely crazy."
"yeah, we are," you smiled, finally sitting up and smoothing your hair back, looking down at his lap. both of your eyes landed on the exact same spot at the exact same time.
right at the crotch of his expensive, custom-tailored grey trousers was a very large, very noticeable, dark wet spot.
michael stared at it, then looked up at you with a mix of utter disbelief, shock, and sheer amusement. "well. i definitely cannot walk through the main lobby of the hotel looking like this."
smiling warmly, he reached over and pressed the intercom button for the driver. "jean? change of plans. please pull into the VIP side entrance. the one with the private elevator."
he clicked the button off, looking up at you with a lazy, wicked, and completely satisfied grin. "because the second we get upstairs, these pants are coming off. and so are you."
