i know i have a few followers who are always so excited to read my latest work, but i think i need some time for a while. i'm very sad and depressed. i haven't been doing quite okay for a while. i'm convinced i'll never write again or feel inspired again. so in case someone was ever wondering. no im not interested in s*lf-h*rm and very safe from that. my choice is usually isolation. so thank you for supporting me, for commenting, reacting, sharing my stories. i've had so much fun in these worlds and fandoms.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the private entrance to Joe's penthouse. He'd been patient for monthsātaking Y/N to the finest restaurants, sending her gifts she'd politely accept but never gush over, playing the long game like he always did in business. But tonight, finally bringing her here, to his space? Patience was wearing thin.
"After you," he murmured, his hand finding the small of her back as she stepped into the marble foyer.
The city lights sprawled beneath them through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the open-concept space in amber and shadow. Joe barely gave her a second to take it in before he was on her, fingers sliding around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He dipped his head to her neck, lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get you alone here," he breathed against her skin.
Y/N hummed, a sound that could've been agreement or amusementāhe couldn't tell. Her hand came up to touch his jaw, fingers trailing along the stubble there, and for a moment Joe thought he had her. Then she twisted out of his grip with an ease that made his jaw clench.
"Mmm, not yet," she said, her voice honey-smooth as she stepped away, heels clicking against the hardwood. "I want to see what kind of man you really are first."
Joe exhaled through his nose, watching as she wandered deeper into the apartment, fingers trailing along the back of his leather couch. The way her hips swayed in that dressāthe black one that had been driving him insane all through dinnerāwas deliberate. Calculated.
"You've had months to figure that out," he said, following her at a measured pace, hands sliding into his pockets to keep from reaching for her again.
"In restaurants. In your car. In public." She glanced back at him over her shoulder, eyes glinting. "A man's home tells a different story."
She disappeared around the corner toward the living room, and Joe felt his control slipping. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to be the one in charge, the one setting the pace. He'd built an empire on control, on knowing exactly how to play every angle.
But Y/N? She didn't play by anyone's rules.
He found her in the living room, examining the art on his wallsāa Basquiat he'd acquired at auction, worth more than most people made in a year. She didn't look impressed. Just... curious. Assessing.
"Y/N," he said, voice dropping lower as he approached. "Come here."
She turned to face him, that infuriating smirk playing at her lips. "Make me."
The challenge in her eyes sent heat straight through him. Joe closed the distance in three strides, reaching for her waist again, but she was already moving, slipping past him with a laugh that was pure sin.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, but she was already gone, disappearing down the hallway.
Joe stood there for a moment, jaw working, arousal and frustration warring in his chest. He could hear her heels echoing somewhere deeper in the apartment. His apartment. His territory. And somehow she'd turned it into her playground.
He stalked after her, checking the guest roomāempty. The second bathroomādark. His bedroom door was open, bed untouched, and that made something possessive flare in his gut. When he got his hands on herā
A sound caught his attention. The soft clink of glass. Ice settling in crystal.
His office.
The door was ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. Joe's heart kicked up, pulse thrumming as he approached. He'd never brought anyone into that room. It was his sanctuary, where he conducted business, where he kept the parts of his life that weren't meant for public consumption.
He pushed the door open.
Y/N sat perched on the edge of his mahogany desk, legs crossed at first, then slowlyādeliberatelyāspreading open as his eyes found her. She'd found his whiskey, the expensive bottle he kept in the bar cart, and poured herself two fingers in one of his crystal tumblers. The amber liquid caught the light as she raised it to her lips, taking a slow sip, never breaking eye contact.
That fucking smirk.
"Nice office," she said, voice like velvet. "Very... powerful."
Joe's hands flexed at his sides. She looked like a fantasy sitting there, dress riding up her thighs, hair slightly mussed from her exploration, completely at ease in his most private space. The space where he made million-dollar deals, where he'd intimidated men twice his size.
And she looked like she owned it.
"You're in my chair," he said, voice rough.
"Am I?" Y/N tilted her head, taking another sip. "Feels like mine right now."
He moved toward her slowly, predatory, watching the way her pupils dilated even as that confident smile stayed fixed. "You think you're in control here?"
"I know I am." She set the glass down beside her, leaning back on her palms, the position making her chest arch slightly. "You've been chasing me around your own apartment like a lost puppy, Joe. It's cute."
Cute. The word should've irritated him. Instead, it made him want to show her exactly how not-cute he could be.
He stopped just in front of her, close enough that her knees brushed his thighs. Close enough to smell her perfume mixed with his whiskey. "You done exploring?"
"For now." Her eyes dragged down his body, slow and assessing, before meeting his again. "Question is... what are you going to do about it?"
Joe's hand shot out, gripping her jawānot rough, but firm enough to tilt her face up to his. Her breath hitched, just slightly, and there it was. The crack in her armor.
"I'm going to remind you," he murmured, thumb brushing her lower lip, "that you might've won this round, baby. But the night's just getting started."
Her smile widened, dangerous and beautiful. "Prove it."
That was all the invitation Joe needed.
His other hand slid to her throatānot squeezing, just resting there, a promise of pressureāand he watched her eyes darken with something that looked a lot like satisfaction. Like she'd been waiting for him to snap. Like she'd orchestrated this entire thing just to see what he'd do when he finally stopped playing nice.
"You've been testing me all night," he said, voice dropping to that low register he used when closing deals, when making threats. "Walking around my home like you own it. Drinking my whiskey. Sitting on my desk with your legs open like you're daring me to do something about it."
"Maybe I am." Her voice was steady, but he felt her pulse jump beneath his palm.
Joe leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Then let me make something very clear, Y/N. You might've had your fun, but this?" He pressed closer, forcing her legs wider to accommodate him, his hips settling between her thighs. "This is my territory. And I don't let anyoneānot even youāforget who's in charge here."
He felt her breath catch, felt the way her body responded even as that defiant smirk stayed fixed on her lips. God, she was infuriating. Beautiful and infuriating and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that confidence off her face and replace it with something desperate.
"Big talk," she murmured, but her voice had gone breathy. "You gonna back it up, or just keepā"
He kissed her. Hard. Claiming. His hand tightened on her jaw as his mouth crashed against hers, swallowing whatever smart-ass comment she'd been about to make. For a second she went still, surprised, and Joe used that moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, tasting whiskey and something uniquely her.
Then she kissed him back just as hard, her hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer even as she bit his lower lip hard enough to sting.
Joe groaned, the sound rough and possessive, and yanked her to the edge of the desk. The movement made her gasp into his mouth, and he took advantage, one hand sliding down to grip her thigh, fingers digging into soft flesh as he pulled her leg up around his hip.
"Joeā" she started, but he cut her off.
"No," he said against her lips. "You've been running your mouth all night. My turn."
He kissed down her jaw, her neck, finding that spot that made her shiver and working it with his teeth and tongue until she made a sound that went straight to his cock. His hand slid higher up her thigh, pushing the fabric of her dress up, and when his fingers brushed the edge of her panties he felt how wet she already was.
"All that attitude," he murmured against her throat, "and you're already soaked for me. You like this, don't you? Like pushing me until I snap."
"Maybeā" Her breath hitched when his fingers traced the edge of lace. "Maybe you just take too long to get to the point."
Joe pulled back to look at her, and the challenge in her eyes made something primal surge through him. She wasn't going to make this easy. Didn't want easy. She wanted him to earn it, to prove he could handle her.
Fine.
He grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them behind her back, forcing her to arch toward him. The position made her vulnerable, exposed, and he watched the way her pupils blew wide even as she tried to twist free.
"Let go," she demanded, but there was heat in her voice, not anger.
"Make me," he shot back, echoing her earlier words.
She tried to pull her hands free, and Joe tightened his grip, using his body weight to keep her pinned against the desk. His free hand slid up her side, over her ribs, cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. He could feel her nipple harden under his palm, could feel the way her breathing had gone shallow.
"You're not in control anymore," he said, thumb brushing over that peaked nipple, making her gasp. "I am. And you're going to sit there and take whatever I give you. Understand?"
For a moment, he thought she might actually submit. Her eyes fluttered closed, lips parting, body arching into his touch. Then those eyes snapped open again, sharp and defiant.
"You think pinning my hands makes you in charge?" She rolled her hips against him, and the friction made them both groan. "I could get out of this whenever I want."
"Then why don't you?" He ground against her, letting her feel exactly how hard he was.
"Becauseā" She bit her lip, and Joe leaned in to bite it for her, harder, claiming. "Because maybe I want to see what you'll do."
"What I'll do," Joe repeated, voice rough, "is fuck you on this desk until you forget your own name. Until the only word you remember is mine. Until you're begging me to let you come."
He released her wrists, but only so he could grip her hips with both hands, yanking her flush against him. Y/N's hands immediately went to his belt, fingers working the buckle with practiced ease, and Joe let herāfor now. Let her think she was taking back control.
Then he grabbed her hands again, slower this time, deliberate, and placed them on the desk behind her.
"Keep them there," he commanded.
"Or what?" But her voice had gone shaky.
Joe smiled, dark and promising. "Or I stop. And we both know you don't want that."
He watched her war with herself, pride versus desire, control versus need. Then, slowly, her fingers curled around the edge of the desk, gripping it. Staying put.
"Good girl," he murmured, and the way she shivered at the praise made satisfaction curl hot in his gut.
He kissed her again, slower this time but no less consuming, his hands mapping her body like he was memorizing territory. When he pulled back, her lips were swollen, her chest heaving, and that smirk had finallyāfinallyābeen replaced with something hungry.
"Still think you're in charge?" he asked.
Y/N's eyes met his, still defiant even in surrender. "For now," she breathed, "you can have it."
For now. The words were a promise and a threat. This wasn't over. The night was just beginning, and they both knew the power would shift again before sunrise.
But right now? Right now she was his.
And Joe intended to make damn sure she remembered it.
His hands slid down her sides, deliberate and possessive, bunching the fabric of her dress as he went. The silk whispered against her skin, and he watched goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. She was still gripping the desk, knuckles white, and the sight of her restraining herselfāchoosing to obey himāsent a dark thrill through his veins.
"You look so fucking good like this," he said, voice rough. "All that fire, and you're sitting here letting me do whatever I want."
"Don't get used to it," she shot back, but her breath hitched when his fingers found the hem of her dress and pushed it up over her hips.
Black lace. Of course. The panties were barely there, a scrap of fabric that did nothing to hide how wet she was. Joe groaned, his cock straining against his pants as he traced one finger along the edge of the lace, feeling the heat of her through the thin material.
"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed. "You're soaked."
"Your fault," she managed, and he could hear the strain in her voice, the way she was fighting to keep control even as her body betrayed her.
"Yeah?" He hooked his finger under the lace and pulled it aside, exposing her completely. The sight made his mouth water. "Then I should probably take responsibility."
He dropped to his knees.
Y/N gasped, her hands flying from the desk to his hair before she caught herself, gripping the edge again with visible effort. "Joeā"
"Hands. On. The. Desk." Each word was punctuated with a kiss to her inner thigh, moving higher, closer to where she needed him. "You move them, I stop. Understand?"
"You're such aāoh fuckā"
Whatever insult she'd been about to throw at him dissolved into a moan as he dragged his tongue through her folds, slow and deliberate. She tasted like heaven and sin, and Joe groaned against her, the vibration making her thighs tremble around his head.
He worked her with his mouth, tongue circling her clit before dipping lower, fucking into her with slow, deep strokes. Her hips rolled against his face, seeking more friction, and he gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise, holding her in place.
"Stay still," he commanded, pulling back just enough to speak. "You take what I give you. Nothing more."
"Joe, pleaseā" The word was strangled, desperate, and God, he loved hearing her beg.
"Please what?" He blew cool air across her wet heat, watching her shudder. "Use your words, baby."
"Pleaseā" She bit her lip, pride warring with need, and Joe waited, patient, his thumbs stroking idle circles on her inner thighs. Finally, she broke. "Please make me come."
"That's better."
He dove back in, this time with purpose. His tongue worked her clit in tight circles while two fingers slid inside her, curling to find that spot that made her see stars. She was tight, so fucking tight, her walls clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out.
"Joeāoh GodāJoeā"
Her thighs were shaking now, her whole body trembling with the effort of keeping her hands on the desk. He could feel her getting close, could feel the way her pussy was fluttering around his fingers, and he doubled his efforts, sucking her clit into his mouth while his fingers fucked her harder.
"Come for me," he growled against her. "Let me feel it."
She shattered with a cry that echoed through his office, her back arching off the desk as her orgasm crashed through her. Joe worked her through it, his fingers gentling but not stopping, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until she was gasping, oversensitive, trying to squirm away.
He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked up at her. She was wreckedāhair mussed, dress bunched around her waist, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. And her eyes, when they finally focused on him, were dark with satisfaction and something that looked a lot like challenge.
"Good?" he asked, though he knew damn well it was.
"Adequate," she said, and the smirk was back.
Joe laughed, dark and dangerous, as he stood. "Adequate. We'll see about that."
He made quick work of his belt, the leather sliding free with a hiss that made her eyes drop to his hands. When he freed his cock, thick and hard and leaking, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
"See something you want?" he asked.
"Maybe." But her eyes were hungry, fixed on him.
Joe gripped himself, stroking slowly, watching her watch him. "You want this?"
"Yes." No hesitation this time.
"Then ask nicely."
For a moment he thought she might refuse, might push back just to prove she could. Then she spread her legs wider, an invitation and a demand all at once.
"Fuck me, Joe."
He was on her in an instant, one hand gripping her hip while the other guided his cock to her entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face as she stretched around him. She was so wet, so ready, but still tight enough that he had to fight the urge to just slam home.
"Fuck," he groaned when he was fully seated inside her. "You feel so good."
Y/N's hands had left the desk, were now gripping his shoulders, nails digging in through his shirt. "Move," she demanded.
"Bossy." But he pulled out and thrust back in, hard enough to make her gasp. "I thought I was in charge."
"Then act like it."
The challenge in her voice snapped something in him. Joe grabbed both her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other gripped her hip, and he started to fuck her in earnest. Deep, hard strokes that made the desk shake, made her cry out with each thrust.
"This what you wanted?" he growled. "Wanted me to fuck you like I own you?"
"Yesāfuckāyesā"
She was meeting him thrust for thrust, her hips rolling to take him deeper, and the sight of herācompletely at his mercy but still fighting for controlāwas the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
"You're mine," he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. "Say it."
"Make me," she shot back, even as her pussy clenched around him.
Joe released her wrists to grip her throat instead, not squeezing, just holding, a reminder of who was in control. "Say. It."
Her eyes flashed with defiance and desire. "Yours," she finally gasped. "I'm yours."
"Damn right you are."
He could feel his orgasm building, could feel her tightening around him again, and he knew she was close too. He shifted the angle of his hips, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, and her whole body went taut.
"Come with me," he commanded. "Right fucking now."
And she did, her orgasm triggering his, both of them crying out as pleasure crashed through them. Joe buried himself deep, spilling inside her as her pussy milked him, wave after wave of sensation that left them both shaking.
When it was over, he collapsed forward, catching himself on his hands so he didn't crush her. They were both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and satisfied, and when he finally pulled out and looked down at her, that smirk was back on her lips.
"Still think you're in charge?" she asked, echoing his earlier words.
Joe laughed, pressing a kiss to her swollen lips. "For now."
The knock on Y/N's door came at exactly 9 AM, which was suspicious in itself. Drew Starkey was many thingsācharming, thoughtful, annoyingly good-lookingābut punctual wasn't usually one of them.
She padded to the door in her oversized sweatshirt and leggings, hair still damp from her morning shower, and pulled it open to find him leaning against the doorframe with that signature grin that had probably gotten him out of trouble more times than she could count.
"You're on time," she said, crossing her arms. "What did you do?"
"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Drew pushed off the frame and stepped inside, his presence immediately filling her small apartment the way it always did. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, a baseball cap pulled low over his still-messy hair, and he smelled like coffee and that cologne she'd never admit she'd memorized. "Can't a guy just want to see his best friend?"
"At nine in the morning? On the first day of our break?" Y/N closed the door and followed him into her living room, where he was already making himself comfortable on her couch. "We literally wrapped filming yesterday. You should be sleeping for three days straight."
"Sleep is overrated." He patted the cushion next to him, eyes bright with something she couldn't quite read. Excitement, maybe. Mischief, definitely. "Come here. I have a surprise for you."
Y/N's stomach did that annoying flip thing it had been doing around Drew latelyāthe thing she absolutely refused to acknowledge or examine too closely. "A surprise?"
"Mhm." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a black silk scarf, letting it dangle from his fingers. "But you have to trust me."
She eyed the scarf, then him, suspicion creeping up her spine. "Drew Starkey, what are you planning?"
"Nothing bad, I promise." He stood up, unfolding his full height, and took a step toward her. The playful energy shifted slightly, became something more charged. "Do you trust me?"
It was the way he asked itāsofter, more genuine beneath the teasingāthat made her heart skip. "That depends entirely on what you're about to do with that scarf."
"I need you to wear it. As a blindfold." He held it up, and the morning light from her window caught the fabric. "Just for a little while. I want to surprise you with something, and I can't have you figuring it out too early."
Y/N laughed, the sound a little breathless. "You want to blindfold me? That's not suspicious at all."
"I know how your brain works." Drew stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Close enough that she could see the flecks of blue in his eyes, the slight stubble along his jaw. "You'll piece together every clue if I don't. You're too smart for your own good."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Starkey."
"Really? Because I think it's working." His grin widened, all charm and confidence, but there was something else underneath it. Something almost nervous. "Come on. Please? I've been planning this for weeks."
That made her pause. "Weeks?"
"Weeks," he confirmed, his voice dropping lower. "And I really, really want it to be a surprise. So will you please just trust me and put on the blindfold?"
Y/N bit her lip, weighing her options. The rational part of her brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea, that letting Drew Starkey surprise her with some mysterious plan while blindfolded was just asking for trouble. But the other partāthe part that had been growing louder and more insistent over the past few monthsāwanted to know what he'd been planning. Wanted to see what he'd do for her.
"Fine," she said finally, and watched his whole face light up. "But if this is some elaborate prankā"
"It's not a prank." He was already moving behind her, gentle hands gathering her still-damp hair and moving it over one shoulder. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck and she suppressed a shiver. "I promise. This is... this is a good thing. A really good thing."
The silk was cool against her skin as he tied it carefully over her eyes, his touch feather-light and deliberate. Y/N's world went dark, her other senses immediately sharpening. She could hear his breathing, slightly uneven. Could smell his cologne stronger now. Could feel the warmth of him still standing close behind her.
"Too tight?" His voice was right by her ear, low and careful.
"No," she managed, proud that her voice came out steady. "It's fine."
"Okay." His hands settled on her shoulders, a brief squeeze that felt like reassurance and something else. "We need to get going. I'll help you."
"Going? Drew, where are weā"
"Nope." She could hear the smile in his voice as he gently turned her toward what she assumed was the door. "No questions. Not yet. Just trust me, okay?"
Y/N huffed out a laugh, letting him guide her forward. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand sliding down to take hers, fingers intertwining in a way that felt both completely natural and entirely too intimate. "But I think you're going to enjoy it more. Now come on. We've got a schedule to keep."
As he led her out of her apartment, Y/N's heart hammered against her ribs. She had no idea where they were going or what he had planned, but the warmth of his hand in hers and the barely contained excitement in his voice made her think that maybeājust maybeāthis break was going to be more than she'd bargained for.
The car ride started innocently enough.
Drew had guided her down the stairs of her apartment building with careful hands and patient directionsā"three more steps," "watch the curb," "door's right here"ābefore settling her into what she assumed was his truck based on the height and the familiar smell of leather and his cologne that seemed permanently embedded in the seats.
She'd been in this vehicle a thousand times. But blindfolded, hyperaware of every sound and sensation, it felt entirely different.
"Seatbelt," Drew said from beside her, and she felt the brush of his arm as he reached across to help. His knuckles grazed her hip and she sucked in a breath.
"I can do it myself," she protested, but her hands fumbled uselessly in the dark.
"Sure you can." His voice was warm with amusement as he clicked the belt into place, his face close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Then he was pulling away, his door opening and closing as he rounded the vehicle.
The engine rumbled to life and they were moving.
Y/N lasted approximately forty-five seconds before the questions started.
"Okay, so are we going somewhere in the city or outside the city?"
"Can't tell you that."
"Drew."
"Y/N." He mimicked her exasperated tone perfectly and she could hear the grin in his voice.
She shifted in her seat, turning toward where she knew he was. "Can you at least tell me if we're going somewhere fun?"
"I think it's fun. Whether you think it's fun remains to be seen."
"That's not reassuring!" She reached out blindly, her hand connecting with his arm on the center console. His skin was warm under her palm, the muscles of his forearm flexing slightly as he drove. "Come on. One hint. Just one tiny hint."
"Nope." But he didn't pull his arm away.
Y/N tried a different tactic, softening her voice into what she hoped was a sweet, persuasive tone. "Please? I'll be so good. I won't ask any more questions. Just tell me one little thing."
Drew laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "You? Not ask questions? Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."
"I'm serious!" She squeezed his arm for emphasis. "One hint and I'll be quiet the entire rest of the way."
"The entire rest of the way?" He sounded skeptical. "We've got a bit of a drive ahead of us."
Her heart skipped. "How long is a bit?"
"That would be telling."
"Drew Starkey, I swear to Godā"
"Threatening me now?" She could practically hear him shaking his head. "That's definitely not going to work."
Y/N groaned, flopping back against the seat dramatically. "You're the worst. The absolute worst. I don't know why I'm friends with you."
"Because I'm charming and thoughtful and I plan amazing surprises for you?"
"Debatable," she muttered, but she was fighting a smile.
They drove in silence for maybe two minutes before she tried again.
"Is it something I've mentioned wanting to do?"
"..."
"Oh my God, it is!" She sat up straighter, energized by his hesitation. "Okay, okay. Is it something I mentioned recently or like, a long time ago?"
"I'm not answering that."
"You kind of already did by not answering." Y/N's mind was racing now, cataloging every conversation they'd had over the past few months. "Is it food related? Are you taking me to that restaurant I wanted to try?"
"Would I need to blindfold you to take you to a restaurant?"
"Maybe if it's a really fancy restaurant and you wanted it to be a surprise?"
"It's not a restaurant."
"Aha!" She pointed in his general direction triumphantly. "You gave me information! So it's not food related."
Drew groaned. "This is exactly why I blindfolded you. Your brain is too fast."
"Then tell me where we're going and put me out of my misery."
"Absolutely not. We're not even halfway there yet."
Y/N's jaw dropped. "Halfway? Drew, where the hell are you taking me?"
"Language," he teased, and she felt the car slow slightly, probably for a turn.
She reached out again, this time her hand landing on what felt like his thigh. She felt him tense slightly under her touch. "Please?" she tried again, adding what she hoped was the right amount of pleading to her voice. "I'm dying here. The suspense is killing me."
"You're so dramatic." But his voice had gone slightly rougher, and when she squeezed his leg gently, she heard him clear his throat. "And that's not going to work either."
"What if I bribe you?"
"With what?"
"I'll... I'll buy you coffee for a week."
"I can buy my own coffee."
"A month?"
"Still no."
"Fine." Y/N crossed her arms, going for petulant. "What if I just take off the blindfold myself?"
"You won't." He sounded entirely too confident.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because you're curious about what I've planned. And you know if you take it off early, you'll ruin the surprise. You're too invested now."
Damn him for being right.
Y/N slumped in her seat, accepting temporary defeat. But her hand was still on his thigh, and she became suddenly, acutely aware of that fact. The warmth of him through his jeans. The way his muscle tensed slightly when she shifted her fingers.
She should probably move her hand.
She didn't move her hand.
"You're evil," she said instead, going for casual even though her heart was doing complicated things in her chest. "I hope you know that."
"I prefer 'mysteriously charming.'"
"Nope. Definitely evil."
His hand covered hers then, warm and large, and gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting it away and placing it back in her own lap. The loss of contact felt more significant than it should have.
"We're almost there," he said softly, and something in his voice had shifted. Less teasing, more... something else. Something that made her stomach flip. "Just a little bit longer. I promise it'll be worth it."
Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice. The air in the car felt different nowācharged with something she couldn't quite name. Or maybe didn't want to name.
The car slowed, turned, and then stopped completely.
"Okay," Drew said, and she could hear him shifting, the seatbelt clicking as he released it. "We're here. First stop, anyway."
"First stop?" Her voice came out higher than intended. "How many stops are there?"
"You'll see." His door opened and closed, and then hers was opening too, his hands gentle as he helped her out. "Come on. This is the good part."
Y/N let him guide her forward, her heart hammering against her ribs. She could hear sounds around themācars, voices, some kind of announcement system in the distance.
Wait.
"Drew," she said slowly. "Are we at the airport?"
His laugh was warm against her ear as he leaned close. "Told you that you were too smart for your own good."
"Okay," Drew said, his hands settling on her shoulders, steadying her. "You ready?"
Y/N's heart was racing so fast she was sure he could hear it. "I don't know. Am I?"
"Only one way to find out." His fingers found the knot of the blindfold at the back of her head, and she felt the fabric loosen. "On three. One... two..."
He pulled the blindfold away and Y/N blinked against the sudden brightness, her eyes adjusting to the light. They were standing on a tarmac, the sun glinting offā
Her breath caught.
A private jet sat gleaming in front of them, all sleek white curves and tinted windows, the stairs extended like an invitation. It was beautiful. Luxurious. Completely and utterly excessive.
And somehow... not what she'd expected at all.
Y/N stared at it for a long moment, her brain trying to process what she was seeing. Drew had brought her to the airport. To a private jet. He'd planned this whole elaborate surprise with the blindfold and the mystery and theā
"Oh," she said finally, her voice coming out flat and strange. She turned to look at Drew, who was watching her with eager anticipation. "You bought me a private jet?"
The words hung in the air between them, and Y/N realized how they soundedādisappointed, confused, maybe even a little deflated. Which was insane because who would be disappointed by a private jet? But somehow the extravagance of it felt... wrong. Too much. Like he'd spent an absurd amount of money on something she'd never asked for and didn't need andā
Drew's face went through several expressions in rapid successionāconfusion, realization, and then pure, unfiltered amusement. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the tarmac, rich and genuine and completely delighted by her reaction.
"Oh my God," he managed between laughs, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "Your face. Y/N, your face right now."
"What?" She felt heat creeping up her neck. "I justāI meanā"
"You thought I bought you a plane." He was still laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made her stomach do flips. "Like, an actual private jet. To own."
"Well, you were being all mysterious andā" Y/N gestured helplessly at the aircraft. "It's right there! What was I supposed to think?"
Drew stepped closer, his laughter subsiding into a warm smile that made her knees feel weak. "Hey, I have a few dollars but no, I did not buy you a private jet." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment. "But I did buy you a ticket to get on that private jet."
Oh.
Oh.
The disappointment evaporated instantly, replaced by a surge of excitement so intense it nearly knocked her over. Y/N's eyes went wide, darting between Drew's face and the plane and back again.
"Wait. We're getting on that? Right now?"
"Right now," he confirmed, and his smile widened at her reaction. "Well, as soon as you're ready."
"Iā" Y/N pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling the heat there, feeling the grin that was spreading across her face unbidden. "Drew. Drew, this is insane. Where are we going? You have to tell me now. We're literally about to get on a plane, you can't keep it a secret anymoreā"
"I absolutely can keep it a secret." He was enjoying this far too much, the smug bastard. "In fact, I'm planning to keep it a secret for several more hours."
"Hours?" Her voice came out as almost a squeak. "How long is this flight?"
"That would be telling."
Y/N grabbed his arm, the same way she had in the car, but this time there was no pretense of casual contact. She was holding onto him because she needed to ground herself, needed something solid to keep her from floating away on the sheer impossibility of what was happening.
"You're serious," she said, searching his face. "This is real. You actuallyā" Her throat tightened unexpectedly, emotion swelling up without warning. "Drew."
His expression softened, the teasing falling away to reveal something more vulnerable underneath. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm serious. You've been talking about your bucket list for years, and I just... I wanted to do something special. You deserve something special."
The air between them felt electric, charged with all the things they weren't saying. Y/N was acutely aware of how close they were standing, of her hand still gripping his arm, of the way he was looking at her like she was the only person in the world.
She should say something. Something funny to break the tension, or something grateful, orā
"I can't believe you're not going to tell me where we're going," she said instead, and the moment shifted, lightened.
Drew grinned. "Believe it. Come on." He grabbed her suitcase with one hand and took her hand with the other, tugging her toward the stairs. "We've got a flight to catch."
Y/N let him pull her forward, her heart soaring as they approached the jet. The stairs felt surreal under her feet, like she was walking into a dream. At the top, a flight attendant greeted them with a professional smile, and then they were inside andā
"Holy shit," Y/N breathed.
The interior was even more luxurious than she'd imagined. Cream leather seats that looked more like armchairs, polished wood accents, soft lighting that made everything feel warm and intimate. It was like stepping into a different world.
"You like it?" Drew asked, watching her reaction.
Y/N turned to him, and she knew her expression must have been ridiculousāeyes wide, mouth slightly open, completely overwhelmed. "Like it? Drew, this isā" She gestured around helplessly. "This is the most insane thing anyone has ever done for me."
"Good insane or bad insane?"
"Good," she said immediately. "Definitely good. Incredibly, amazingly, I-can't-believe-this-is-real good."
His smile was soft, genuine, and it made her chest ache. "Good," he echoed. "Now sit down and buckle up. We've got places to be."
"Places you won't tell me about," she reminded him, but she was already moving toward one of the seats, running her hand over the butter-soft leather.
"Exactly." Drew settled into the seat across from her, stretching his long legs out. "But I promise, it'll be worth the wait."
Y/N looked at himāat his easy smile, at the excitement barely contained in his eyes, at the way he was watching her like her happiness was the only thing that matteredāand felt something shift in her chest. Something dangerous and thrilling and terrifying all at once.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Really. This is... thank you."
Drew's expression flickered with something she couldn't quite read. "You haven't even seen the best part yet."
And as the engines hummed to life and the jet began to taxi, Y/N realized this adventureāwhatever it was, wherever they were goingāwas going to change everything.
The first hour of the flight passed in a blur of excitement and exploration. Y/N couldn't sit still, moving from seat to seat, testing each one like she was Goldilocks searching for the perfect chair. Drew watched her with undisguised amusement, his long frame sprawled comfortably in the seat he'd claimed near the window.
"You know they're all the same, right?" he called out as she settled into her fourth different spot.
"They are not all the same," Y/N protested, running her hands over the armrests. "This one has better lumbar support."
"We're going to be here for hours. You're going to try every seat on this plane, aren't you?"
"Maybe." She grinned at him, then noticed the small bar area toward the back. "Oh my God, there's a bar. Drew. There's an actual bar."
"I'm aware."
"With champagne?"
"I believe that's customary on private jets, yes."
Y/N was already moving toward it, examining the bottles with wide eyes. "This is insane. This whole thing is insane. I feel like I'm in a movie."
Drew unfolded himself from his seat and joined her, reaching past her to grab two glasses. His arm brushed against hers and she felt that familiar spark of electricity. "Want some?"
"It's like two in the afternoon."
"We're on a private jet flying to a mystery destination. Normal rules don't apply." He was already pouring, the golden liquid fizzing in the crystal flutes. "Besides, we're celebrating."
"Celebrating what?"
"Checking things off bucket lists. Adventures. Being spontaneous." He handed her a glass, his fingers brushing hers. "Us."
The word hung in the air between themāusāloaded with meaning neither of them was ready to unpack. Y/N took a sip of champagne to avoid responding, the bubbles tickling her nose.
"To adventures," she said finally, raising her glass.
Drew clinked his against hers, his eyes never leaving her face. "To adventures."
They settled into seats across from each other again, but closer this time, their knees almost touching in the space between them. The champagne loosened something in both of them, and soon they were talking the way they used to when they first metābefore the tension, before the almost-moments, when everything was easy and uncomplicated.
Drew told her about the time he got lost in Prague during a press tour, ending up in a tiny bar where no one spoke English and he'd somehow agreed to judge a karaoke competition. Y/N countered with the story of her disastrous attempt at learning to surf, which had ended with her getting dumped by a wave and losing her bikini top in front of a group of teenagers.
"You did not," Drew said, laughing so hard he had to wipe his eyes.
"I absolutely did. I had to swim back to shore covering myself with my hands while these kids just... watched. It was mortifying."
"Why have you never told me this before?"
"Because it's humiliating! I've been taking that story to my grave."
"Well, now I know. And I'm never letting you forget it." His smile was warm, affectionate, and it made her heart do that stupid fluttering thing again.
Two hours in, Drew pulled out his phone and connected it to the jet's sound system. Music filled the cabināsomething upbeat and familiar that made Y/N's foot start tapping automatically.
"Oh no," she said, recognizing the look on his face. "No, no, no."
"Oh yes." Drew was already standing, extending his hand to her. "Come on. You can't tell me you're going to waste this space."
"Drew, I'm not dancing on a private jet."
"Why not? When else are you going to get the chance?" He wiggled his fingers at her. "Don't make me dance alone. That's just sad."
Y/N tried to resist, but his grin was infectious and the champagne had made her bold. She took his hand and let him pull her up, and suddenly they were dancing in the aisle of a private jet at thirty thousand feet, and it was ridiculous and perfect.
Drew spun her dramatically, making her laugh, and then they were just moving together, unselfconscious and free. The song changed to something slower, more sensual, and the energy shifted. Drew's hand found her waist, pulling her closer, and Y/N's breath caught.
They were swaying now more than dancing, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt deliberate. Y/N could feel the heat of him through his shirt, could smell his cologneāsomething woody and warm that made her want to lean in closer. His hand on her waist felt like a brand, burning through the fabric of her shirt.
She looked up and found him already watching her, his blue eyes dark with something that made her stomach flip. They were so close. Close enough that she could count his eyelashes, could see the slight stubble on his jaw, could feel his breath on her face.
The air felt thick, charged with possibility. Drew's hand moved from her waist to the small of her back, his fingers spreading wide, and Y/N's hands slid up his chest to his shoulders. They'd stopped moving entirely now, just standing there in the middle of the jet, wrapped around each other.
Drew's gaze dropped to her lips.
Y/N's heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it. This was it. This was the moment. He was going to kiss her and everything was going to change andā
"You know," Drew said suddenly, his voice rough, "I think this song is about a guy who's in love with his best friend."
The spell broke. Y/N blinked, the tension dissipating like smoke. "What?"
"The lyrics. Listen." He stepped back, putting space between them, and Y/N felt the loss of his warmth like a physical ache. "It's about wanting someone you can't have."
"That's... depressing."
"Yeah." Drew ran a hand through his hair, not quite meeting her eyes. "Want more champagne?"
"Sure," Y/N said, even though what she really wanted was to grab him and demand to know why he kept pulling away. But that wasn't how they worked. They deflected. They joked. They kept things light.
Even when it was killing them both.
The hours blurred together after that. They talked about everything and nothingāchildhood memories, embarrassing moments from set, dreams for the future. The conversation flowed easily, but there was an undercurrent now, a awareness of each other that hadn't been there before.
Or maybe it had always been there, and they were just finally acknowledging it.
As the flight stretched on, they migrated to the larger seats in the back, the ones that were more like small couches. Y/N curled up on one side, and Drew stretched out on the other, but somehow they kept drifting closer. First their feet were touching. Then Y/N's head was on Drew's shoulder. Then his arm was around her, and she was tucked into his side, and it felt so natural that neither of them commented on it.
"I still can't believe you did this," Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy. The champagne and the gentle hum of the engines were making her drowsy. "This whole thing. It's too much."
"It's not too much." Drew's voice rumbled in his chest, and she could feel the vibration of it. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."
Y/N tilted her head to look up at him, and found him already watching her with that soft expression that made her chest ache. "Drew..."
"Yeah?"
She wanted to say so many things. Wanted to ask him what this was, what they were doing, why he kept looking at her like that and then pulling away. Wanted to tell him that she was terrified and excited and completely overwhelmed by whatever was happening between them.
Instead, she just said, "Thank you."
His arm tightened around her. "You're welcome."
Y/N let her eyes drift closed, feeling safe and warm and happier than she could remember being in a long time. Drew's hand was tracing absent patterns on her arm, and she could feel his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her cheek.
"Hey Drew?" she mumbled, already half-asleep.
"Mmm?"
"Where are we going?"
She felt more than heard his quiet laugh. "Nice try. Go to sleep, Y/N."
"Evil," she muttered, but she was smiling.
The last thing she was aware of before sleep claimed her was Drew pressing a kiss to the top of her headāso soft and quick she might have imagined itāand his whispered words that she was too far gone to fully process.
"You have no idea what you do to me."
When the flight attendant came to check on them an hour later, she found them tangled together on the seat, Y/N's head on Drew's chest and his arms wrapped around her, both of them sleeping peacefully. She smiled to herself, dimmed the cabin lights, and quietly retreated, leaving them to their dreams.
Y/N woke to the gentle sensation of descent, that subtle shift in pressure that pulled her from sleep. For a moment, she was disorientedāthe unfamiliar hum of engines, the soft leather beneath her cheek, the warmth surrounding her.
Then she remembered. The private jet. Drew. The mystery destination.
She was still tucked against Drew's chest, his arms loose around her, one hand resting on her hip. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and when she tilted her head slightly, she found him still asleep, his face relaxed in a way it rarely was when he was awake. There was something vulnerable about seeing him like this, unguarded and peaceful.
Y/N carefully extracted herself from his embrace, trying not to wake him, and moved to the window. She pulled up the shade andā
Her breath caught.
The landscape below was unlike anything she'd ever seen. Rolling green hills stretched endlessly, dotted with red wooden houses and pristine lakes that reflected the sky like mirrors. The light was strange, golden and ethereal, casting everything in a dreamlike glow even though it had to beāshe checked her phoneānearly midnight.
Nearly midnight, and it looked like late afternoon.
Her heart started to pound.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
Y/N turned to find Drew awake, watching her with a soft smile. His hair was adorably mussed from sleep, and there was a crease on his cheek from where it had been pressed against the seat.
"Drew," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Where are we?"
His smile widened. "Look out the window. What do you see?"
She turned back, pressing her face closer to the glass. The landscape, the light, the way the sun hung low on the horizon but showed no signs of setting. Her mind was racing, pieces clicking together.
"This is..." She couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't quite believe it.
The captain's voice crackled over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're beginning our final descent into Stockholm Arlanda Airport. Local time is 11:47 PM. Current temperature is a comfortable 18 degrees Celsius. Welcome to Sweden."
Sweden.
Sweden.
Y/N's hand flew to her mouth as the realization crashed over her like a wave. The midnight sun. Her bucket list. The thing she'd mentioned once, maybe twice, in passingāabout how she'd always dreamed of seeing the sun at midnight, of experiencing that impossible, magical phenomenon.
She spun around to face Drew, who was now sitting up, watching her with an expression that was equal parts nervous and hopeful.
"You're taking me to see the midnight sun," she said, and her voice cracked on the last word.
"Yeah," Drew said softly. "I am."
"Drew, Iā" She couldn't find the words. Her eyes were burning with tears she was trying desperately not to shed. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He stood and crossed to her, and suddenly they were standing close again, the way they'd been when they were dancing, when they'd almost kissed. "You said it was on your bucket list. You said you'd always wanted to see it but never thought you'd actually get the chance."
"I can't believe you did this." A tear escaped despite her best efforts, and she wiped it away quickly. "This is insane. This is the most insane, wonderful, ridiculous thing anyone has ever done for me."
Drew reached up and caught another tear with his thumb, his touch gentle. "You deserve insane and wonderful and ridiculous."
The air between them felt different nowācharged with something new, something that had shifted during those hours on the plane. The way he was looking at her, the way her heart was racing, the way she wanted to close the distance between them andā
"I don't know what to say," Y/N whispered.
"You don't have to say anything." But his hand was still on her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone, and the tenderness in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
"Thank you," she said, because it was inadequate but it was all she had. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Drew smiled, that soft, genuine smile that made her stomach flip. "You're welcome. But you haven't seen the best part yet."
"There's more?"
"There's always more." He dropped his hand, and she felt the loss of his touch like a physical ache. "I booked us a cottage. Right on the water, perfect view of the midnight sun. We have it for a week."
"A week?" Y/N's voice came out higher than intended. "Drew, I can'tāthis is too muchā"
"It's not too much," he said firmly. "And before you argue, just... let me do this for you. Please. Let me give you this."
The plane touched down with a gentle bump, and Y/N grabbed his arm for balance. Or maybe just because she needed to touch him, to ground herself in this moment that felt too surreal to be real.
"Okay," she said finally. "Okay."
Drew's smile could have lit up the entire cabin. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She laughed, a little breathless, a little overwhelmed. "But I'm still processing the fact that you flew me to Sweden on a private jet to see the midnight sun. Like, my brain hasn't fully caught up yet."
"Take your time. We've got a week."
As the plane taxied to a stop, Y/N looked out the window again at the strange, beautiful light that refused to fade. The midnight sun. She was actually here, actually going to see it, because Drew had remembered a throwaway comment and turned it into this.
She glanced back at him and found him already watching her, and something passed between themāan acknowledgment of what had happened on the plane, of how they'd fallen asleep tangled together, of all the almost-moments that were adding up to something neither of them could ignore much longer.
"Hey Drew?" she said softly.
"Yeah?"
"This is the best surprise anyone's ever given me."
His expression softened, and for a moment she thought he might say something serious, something that would change everything. But instead, he just grinned and said, "Wait until you see the cottage. It has a hot tub."
Y/N laughed, the tension breaking, and shoved his shoulder playfully. "Of course it does."
"What? I'm a man of refined tastes."
"You're a man of expensive tastes."
"Potato, potahto."
As they gathered their things and prepared to disembark, Y/N felt something shift inside herāa sense of possibility, of adventure, of standing on the edge of something that could either be the best decision of her life or completely terrifying.
Maybe both.
She looked at Drew, at the way the strange midnight light caught in his hair and made his eyes impossibly blue, and thought: A week in Sweden. Just the two of us. What could possibly happen?
Everything, her heart whispered back. Everything could happen.
The past two days had been a dream.
They'd explored the cottageāwhich was somehow even more beautiful than Drew had described, all exposed wood beams and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water. They'd driven through the Swedish countryside, stopped at small villages with names Y/N couldn't pronounce, eaten lingonberry jam on fresh bread, and laughed until their sides hurt.
But they hadn't talked about the plane. About falling asleep tangled together. About the way everything felt different now.
Until tonight.
Drew had driven them to a spot he'd found on a mapāa glassy knoll that overlooked the landscape, all rolling hills and mirror-like lakes. It was 11:58 PM, and the sun hung low on the horizon, painting everything in shades of gold and rose that seemed impossible, magical.
Y/N lay on the soft grass, her head resting on Drew's outstretched arm, their feet bare and tangled in the cool blades. The air smelled like wildflowers and summer, and the only sound was the distant call of birds that didn't know it was supposed to be night.
"It's so quiet," Y/N whispered, afraid to break the spell.
"Yeah." Drew's voice was soft, thoughtful. "It's like the whole world is holding its breath."
She turned her head slightly to look at him and found him already watching her, his blue eyes reflecting the golden light. There was something in his expressionāsomething vulnerable and open that made her heart skip.
"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
Drew was quiet for a moment, his jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. Then he let out a breath and said, "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"And you promise not to make fun of me?"
Y/N's lips quirked. "I make no such promises."
"Of course you don't." But he was smiling, even as his hand found hers in the grass, their fingers intertwining. "Okay. Here goes."
He paused, and Y/N felt her pulse quicken. The air between them felt charged, electric, like the moment before lightning strikes.
"I didn't bring you here just because it was on your bucket list," Drew said finally, his voice low and honest. "I mean, that's part of it. But the real reason is... I wanted to be the one to give this to you. I wanted to see your face when you saw the midnight sun for the first time. I wanted to be here with you, in this moment, becauseā"
He stopped, and Y/N squeezed his hand. "Because?"
Drew turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he was looking down at her. The midnight sun created a halo around his hair, and Y/N's breath caught at how beautiful he lookedāhow open and vulnerable and real.
"Because I'm in love with you," he said, and the words hung in the air between them like something precious and fragile. "I have been for a while now. Maybe always. And I know we're best friends, and I know this could mess everything up, but I can'tāI can't keep pretending that's all I want. Not when you look at me like that. Not when we fall asleep tangled together and it feels like the most natural thing in the world."
Y/N's heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. "Drewā"
"Wait, let me finish." His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, a nervous gesture. "I know I use humor to deflect. I know I make jokes when things get too real. But this is real, Y/N. You're real. And what I feel for you is the realest thing I've ever known. So yeah, I flew you to Sweden on a private jet because I'm a dramatic idiot who wanted to give you the world. But mostly I just wanted to be with you. Here. Like this."
Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, her chest so full of emotion she could barely breathe. "You love me?"
"So much it scares me," Drew admitted, and there was that vulnerability again, raw and honest. "So much that I planned this whole trip just to have you to myself for a week. So much that I can't imagine my life without you in it."
"Drew." Her voice broke on his name, and she reached up to cup his face, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. "I love you too. God, I love you too."
The smile that broke across his face was like the sun itselfābright and warm and impossible to look away from. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Y/N laughed, a little breathless, a little overwhelmed. "You dramatic idiot. You beautiful, thoughtful, ridiculous man. I love you."
"Say it again," Drew whispered, leaning closer.
"I love you."
"Again."
"I loveā"
He kissed her.
Finally, finally, after all the almost-moments and the tension and the dancing around each other, Drew kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted like the strawberries they'd eaten earlier and something uniquely him. Y/N's hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer, and Drew made a sound low in his throat that sent heat pooling in her stomach.
The kiss deepened, grew hungrier. Drew's hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head to get a better angle, and Y/N opened for him, their tongues meeting in a way that made her toes curl. She'd imagined kissing him a thousand times, but nothing compared to the realityāthe way he kissed like he was trying to memorize her, the way his breath hitched when she bit his bottom lip gently.
"Y/N," he breathed against her mouth, and his voice was rough, wrecked. "God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that made her dizzy, all tongue and teeth and breathless need. Y/N's hands slid into his hair, tugging gently, and Drew made a sound low in his throat that sent heat pooling between her thighs. She could feel every inch of him pressed against herāthe hard planes of his chest, the strength in his arms as he held himself above her, the undeniable evidence of how much he wanted her.
"God, Y/N," he breathed against her lips, pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark with desire, pupils blown wide, and the way he looked at herālike she was something precious and perfect and hisāmade her heart stutter. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Wanted you."
"Show me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own racing heartbeat.
Drew's eyes flashed with something primal, and then his mouth was on her againāher jaw, her throat, the sensitive spot behind her ear that made her gasp. His hands mapped her body with reverent attention, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh. Every touch was deliberate, worshipful, like he was memorizing her.
When his mouth closed around her nipple, Y/N arched off the grass with a sharp intake of breath. The sensation was electricāhis tongue circling, teeth grazing gently, the contrast of cool air and warm mouth making her head spin. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him there, and she felt him smile against her skin.
"You like that?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
"Yes," she gasped. "God, yes."
His hand slid lower, fingers ghosting over her stomach, her hip, before finallyāfinallyātouching her where she needed him most. Y/N's hips bucked involuntarily at the contact, a broken moan escaping her lips.
"So wet," Drew breathed, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as his fingers explored, circled, teased. "So perfect. Is this all for me?"
"All for you," Y/N managed, her voice shaking. "Always for you."
Drew groaned at her words, his fingers moving with more purpose now, finding the rhythm that made her breath hitch and her thighs tremble. Y/N's hands roamed his back, his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex and shift under her touch. She wanted to touch all of him, wanted to make him feel as undone as she felt.
Her hand slid between them, wrapping around him, and Drew's entire body went rigid. "Fuck," he hissed, his hips jerking forward into her touch. "Y/Nā"
"I want you," she whispered, stroking him slowly, feeling the weight and heat of him in her palm. "I want all of you."
Drew's hand caught her wrist, stilling her movements. When she looked up at him, his expression was raw with need and something deeperāsomething that looked like love and vulnerability and barely restrained control all tangled together.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained. "Because once we do this, there's no going back. You're mine, and I'm yours, andā"
"I'm sure," Y/N interrupted, cupping his face with her free hand. "I want this. I want you."
Something in his expression cracked open, and then he was kissing her againādeep and slow and achingly tender. His hand left hers to reach for his discarded jeans, fumbling for his wallet, and Y/N's heart swelled at his thoughtfulness even in this moment.
"I've got you," he murmured against her lips as he tore open the condom wrapper.
Y/N watched as he rolled it on, her breath catching at the sight of himāall golden skin and lean muscle in the light, beautiful and real. When he settled back between her thighs, the weight of him pressing her into the soft grass, she felt like she might burst from the sheer intensity of what she was feeling.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching hers.
"So ready."
Drew lined himself up, and thenāslowly, carefully, giving her time to adjustāhe pushed inside. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, the stretch and fullness and rightness of it. It was almost overwhelming, the intimacy of it, the way he filled her completely.
"Look at me," Drew whispered, his voice tight with restraint. "Please, baby, look at me."
Y/N opened her eyes and found him watching her with an expression so tender it made her chest ache. He was barely moving, giving her time, and she could see the effort it was taking him to hold backāthe tension in his jaw, the way his arms trembled slightly where they bracketed her head.
He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, and then thrust back in with a smooth roll of his hips that made Y/N see stars. She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, and they both moaned at the deeper penetration.
"God, you feel incredible," Drew groaned, setting a rhythm that was slow and deep and absolutely perfect. "So tight. So perfect. Like you were made for me."
Y/N couldn't form words anymore, could only hold onto him as he moved inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. The grass was soft beneath her back, the midnight sun warm on her skin, and Drew was everywhereāhis scent, his touch, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered her name like a prayer.
"Faster," she managed, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Drew, pleaseā"
He obliged, his hips snapping forward with more force, more urgency. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the air, mixing with their gasps and moans and the distant call of birds. Y/N felt the tension building low in her belly, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.
Drew's hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit and circling with just the right amount of pressure. Y/N cried out, her back arching, her body trembling on the edge of something huge and overwhelming.
"That's it," Drew encouraged, his voice rough and wrecked. "Let go for me, baby. I've got you. I've got you."
His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and the pressure of his thumb, sent her over the edge. Y/N came with a broken cry of his name, her body clenching around him, pleasure crashing through her in waves so intense she thought she might shatter from it.
"Fuck, Y/N," Drew groaned, his rhythm faltering as she pulsed around him. "I'māI can'tā"
"Come for me," Y/N whispered, her hands cupping his face, pulling him down for a kiss. "I want to feel you."
Drew thrust into her twice more, deep and hard, and then he was coming with a low moan against her mouth, his whole body shuddering with the force of it. Y/N held him through it, her hands stroking his back, his hair, whispering words of love against his skin.
For a long moment, they stayed like thatātangled together in the grass, hearts racing, breathing hard, the midnight sun bathing them in impossible golden light. Drew's weight was heavy on top of her, but Y/N didn't mind. She felt safe, cherished, completely and utterly loved.
Finally, Drew lifted his head to look at her, and the smile on his face was so bright and genuine it made her heart skip. "Hi," he said softly.
Y/N laughed, the sound breathless and happy. "Hi yourself."
"I love you," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "In case that wasn't clear."
"It was pretty clear," Y/N teased, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I love you too," Y/N whispered, pulling him down for a deeper kiss. "So much."
Drew carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom before gathering her back into his arms, rolling so she was draped across his chest. Y/N rested her head over his heart, listening to the steady thump of it, feeling more content than she'd ever felt in her life.
"So," Drew said after a moment, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on her bare back. "Was it worth the wait?"
Y/N propped herself up on her elbow to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Are you seriously fishing for compliments right now?"
"Maybe a little." He grinned, unrepentant. "Can you blame me?"
"You're ridiculous."
"And yet you love me anyway."
"And yet I love you anyway," Y/N agreed, leaning down to kiss him softly.
the second the cuffs fell away from my wrists, something primal snapped back into place.
i didn't think. didn't hesitate. my body moved on pure instinctāthree years of muscle memory and dominance flooding back through my veins like a drug. i flipped y/n onto her back before she could even gasp, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while my other reached for those fucking handcuffs.
"your turn," i growled, and i heard the roughness in my own voice, felt the edge of something dangerous and hungry scraping against my control.
she'd pushed me tonight. tested me.
but that part was over now.
now it was my turn to remind her exactly who she belonged to.
i snapped the first cuff around her right wrist, threading the chain through the headboard bar with practiced efficiency. the leather was still warm from my skin, and something about thatāabout putting these restraints on her that had just been on meāsent a dark thrill through my chest.
she was watching me with wide eyes, her chest heaving, her lips parted and swollen from kissing. i could see the moment it registeredāwhat was happening, what i was about to doāand the flash of heat in her eyes made my cock pulse inside her.
"archā" her voice was breathless, uncertain.
"shh," i said, catching her left wrist and securing it just as quickly. the leather cuffs looked perfect. better than they'd looked on me. because this was how it was supposed to be. "you had your fun, baby. now it's my turn."
i pulled back slowly. I needed to see her properlyāspread out beneath me, restrained and vulnerable.
fuck.
she looked incredible.
her hair was a mess, spread across the pillow like a dark halo. her skin was flushed and damp with sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. the red lace bra was long gone, leaving her breasts bare and marked with my mouth from earlierālittle red marks that would probably bruise by morning. and between her thighsāfuckāi could see the evidence of what we'd just done, could see myself dripping out of her, could see how swollen she was.
mine.
the word echoed through my head. she was mine. mine to wreck and ruin and put back together again.
and tonight, she'd tried to flip the script.
now she was in for a real treat.
i took my time looking at her, letting my gaze drag over every inch of her body. i wanted her to feel itāthe weight of my attention, the promise of what was coming. i could see her breathing getting faster, could see the way her thighs were trembling slightly, could see the flush spreading down her chest.
she knew. she knew exactly what i was going to do to her.
"arch," she said again, and there was a tremor in her voice now. anticipation. maybe a little fear.
crawling back over her body. i braced my hands on either side of her head, caging her in, and i saw her pupils dilate. "i'm going to make you regret teasing me, baby. i'm going to edge you until you're crying. and thenā" i leaned down, my lips brushing against her ear, "āi'm going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name."
i felt her whole body shudder beneath me, felt her try to arch up against me, but i kept my hips just out of reach. not yet.
"you wanted to play games," i continued, my voice dropping lower. "you wanted to see what would happen if you tied me up and made me beg. well, congratulations. you won that round."
i pulled back to look at her, and i let her see everything in my eyesāthe hunger, the dominance, the edge of something almost feral. "but now it's my turn. and i don't lose twice."
"i wasn't trying toā" she started, but i cut her off with a kiss.
brutal. claiming. my tongue invaded her mouth, swallowing whatever protest she'd been about to make. i kissed her like i was trying to devour her, like i was trying to consume every breath and sound and thought. i kissed her until she was gasping, until she was arching up against me, until i felt her pulling at the cuffs in a futile attempt to touch me.
when i pulled back, her lips were even more swollen, her eyes glazed.
"you weren't trying to what?" i asked, my tone almost conversational. "you weren't trying to make me lose my mind? you weren't trying to see how far you could push me before i snapped?" i trailed my fingers down her throat, feeling her pulse hammering beneath my touch. "because if that wasn't your goal, baby, you succeeded anyway."
i could still feel itāthe ghost of the restraints around my wrists, the frustration of not being able to touch her, the desperation that had clawed through me when she'd held me right at the edge and refused to let me fall. she'd reduced me to begging, to pleading, to making promises i would have kept just to feel her sink down on my cock.
and it had been incredible.
i moved down her body slowly, deliberately. every touch was calculated, designed to build the anticipation, to make her squirm. i pressed kisses to her collarbone, her sternum, the valley between her breasts. when i reached her nipple, i sucked it into my mouth hard enough to make her gasp, then bit down gently.
"archā" her voice was already getting that breathy quality i loved, that edge of need.
"what, baby?" i asked, moving to her other breast. i could feel her trying to press closer, trying to get more contact, but i kept my touch light. teasing. "you want something?"
"iā" she pulled at the cuffs, and i heard the metal clink against the headboard. the sound sent a dark satisfaction through me. "i want you toā"
"to what?" i bit down again, harder this time, and she cried out. "use your words."
"touch me," she gasped. "pleaseā"
"i am touching you," i said, and i could hear the smirk in my own voice. i continued my path downward, kissing and biting my way across her ribs, her stomach, her hip bones. every few inches, i'd stop and suck hard enough to leave a mark. marking her. claiming her. making sure she'd see the evidence of this tomorrow. "see? touching."
"you know what i meanā"
"do i?" i settled between her thighs, spreading them wider, and i took a moment just to look. she was soaked, swollen and pink and dripping with a mixture of her arousal and my cum. the sight made something possessive and primal surge through me. this was mine. all of this belonged to me. "you want me to touch you here?"
i dragged one finger through her folds, barely grazing her clit, and she jerked against the restraints.
"yesāfuckāyesā"
"hmm." i did it again, just as light, just as teasing. i could feel how wet she was, could feel her heat against my fingertip, and it took everything in me not to just bury my face between her thighs and make her scream. but no. this was about control. about making her wait. about making her understand that i was the one in charge here. "but you made me wait, baby. made me beg. seems only fair that you should have to do the same."
"arch, pleaseā"
"please what?" i leaned down, my breath ghosting over her pussy, and i saw her thighs tremble. god, she was so responsive. so fucking perfect. "please make you come? please fuck you? you're going to have to be more specific."
i could see her fighting itāthe urge to submit, to beg, to give me exactly what i wanted.
"please," she whispered, and there was that edge of desperation i'd been waiting for. "please make me come. i needā"
"i know what you need," i said, and i slid two fingers inside her without warning.
she cried out, her back arching off the bed, and i groaned at how wet she was. so fucking wet. for me. because of me. i could feel her walls clenching around my fingers, trying to pull me deeper, and it took everything in me not to just give her what she wanted right away.
but no. this was about control.
i pumped my fingers slowly, deliberately, curling them to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. her hips bucked up against my hand, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more of anything.
"oh godā" her voice was already shaking. "archāpleaseā"
i pulled my fingers out completely, and she made a sound of pure frustration that went straight to my cock.
"you feel so fucking good," i said, bringing my fingers to my mouth and sucking them clean. her taste was intoxicatingāsweet and musky and completely addictive. "so wet for me. so ready."
"i amā" she gasped. "pleaseā"
"please what?" i asked, sliding my fingers back inside her, adding a third this time. the stretch made her gasp, made her pull at the cuffs. "use your words, baby."
i started moving my fingers again, faster this time, my thumb finding her clit and pressing down in tight circles. she was trembling beneath me, her whole body taut with tension, and i could feel her getting close already.
"i am yoursā" she gasped. "you know i amā"
i slowed my movements, keeping the pressure light. teasing. "tonight you seemed pretty determined to prove otherwise. seemed pretty determined to show me you could be in charge."
i pressed my thumb directly against her clit again while thrusting my fingers deep inside her.
she nearly came off the bed.
"fuckāarchāoh my godā"
i did it again, curling my fingers to hit that perfect spot while my thumb worked her clit in tight circles. her thighs were trembling on either side of my hand, her whole body taut with tension. i could see her pulling at the cuffs, could hear the desperation in every breath. perfect. this was exactly where i wanted her.
"you know what i wanted to do?" i asked conversationally, like i wasn't currently between her legs, like she wasn't falling apart above me. "when you were riding me? when you were grinding that perfect pussy on my cock and i couldn't touch you?"
"whatā" her voice was barely a whisper.
"i wanted to flip you over," i said, and i punctuated each word with a kiss to her inner thigh. soft kisses that were a stark contrast to what i was saying. "wanted to pin you down and fuck you so hard you screamed. wanted to grab your hips and hold you still while i came inside you." i bit down on the soft flesh of her thigh, hard enough to leave a mark. hard enough to make her gasp. "wanted to remind you who you belong to."
"i belong to youā" she gasped. "arch, please, i belong to youā"
"that's right," i said, and i put my mouth back on her clit, sucking hard.
her whole body arched, a cry tearing from her throat, and i felt her thighs start to shake. she was closeāso closeāi could feel it in the way her muscles were tensing, could taste it in the flood of wetness on my tongue. i could feel her right on the edge, could feel her body coiling tight, ready to snapā
and then i stopped.
"noā" the word came out as almost a sob. "no, please, don't stopā"
"not yet," i said, pulling back to look up at her. her face was flushed, her eyes wild, and there were actual tears gathering at the corners. fuck, she was beautiful like this. completely wrecked and we'd barely even started. "you don't get to come yet, baby. not until i say so."
"pleaseā" she was pulling at the cuffs hard enough that i worried for a second she might hurt herself. "please, i needā"
"i know what you need," i said, and i slid two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that made her see stars. she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand, and i could feel how tight she was, how wet, how close to the edge. "but you're going to wait for me. understand?"
"yesāyesāi understandā"
i pumped my fingers slowly, deliberately, watching her face contort with pleasure and frustration. every time i felt her walls start to flutter, felt her getting close, i'd slow down or change the angle. keeping her right there. hovering. desperate.
"that's my good girl," i murmured, and i saw her eyes flutter closed at the praise. she loved thatāloved being told she was good, loved being told she was mine. "taking what i give you. being so patient for me."
"archā" her voice was wrecked already. "pleaseā"
i added a third finger, stretching her, and she moaned. the sound was obscene, desperate, and it made my cock throb. i was so hard it hurt, precum leaking steadily, but i ignored it. this wasn't about me right now. this was about her. about making her understand.
i leaned down and put my mouth back on her clit while my fingers continued their steady rhythm inside her. the combination made her scream, her whole body going taut, and i felt her right on the edge againā
and pulled back.
"noānoāpleaseā" she was crying now, actual tears streaming down her face. "please, arch, i can'tā"
"you can," i said firmly, withdrawing my fingers and watching her pussy clench around nothing. the sight was almost enough to break my control. "you can hold it for me. i know you can."
i moved back up her body, positioning myself between her thighs, and i let the head of my cock drag through her folds. teasing. not entering. just letting her feel how hard i was, how much i wanted her.
"feel that?" i asked, my voice rough. "feel how hard you make me? how much i want to be inside you?"
"yesā" she gasped. "yesāpleaseā"
"but you made me wait," i reminded her, pressing just the tip inside before pulling back. "made me beg and plead while you took your time. so now it's your turn."
i did it againājust the tip, then withdrawalāand she made a sound of pure anguish that went straight to my cock.
"arch, pleaseā" her voice was hoarse. "please, i'm sorryā"
"sorry for what?" i asked, doing it again. in. out. never giving her more than an inch. "be specific."
"for teasing youā" the words tumbled out. "for making you waitāfor trying toāoh godā"
"for trying to what?" i pushed in a little deeper this time, maybe two inches, and held myself there. her walls were clenching around me, trying to pull me deeper, but i kept my hips firm. "say it."
"for trying to take controlā" she sobbed. "for thinking i couldācould be in chargeā"
"and who's in charge now?" i asked, my hand wrapping around her throat. not squeezing. just holding. just reminding her. "who owns this pussy?"
"youā" she choked out. "you doāyou own meā"
"that's right," i said, and i pushed in another inch. so slow. so controlled. watching her face as i filled her bit by bit. "i own you. every inch of you belongs to me."
"yesāyesāyoursā"
i pulled back almost all the way out, and she whimpered.
"pleaseā" her voice was barely a whisper. "please fuck meāpleaseā"
"not yet," i said, and i could hear the strain in my own voice. holding back was killing me. every instinct was screaming at me to just slam into her, to take what i wanted, but i forced myself to maintain control. "not until you understand."
"i understandā" she gasped. "i understandāyou're in chargeāyou own meāpleaseā"
i pushed back in, a little deeper this time, and we both groaned. fuck, she felt incredible. so tight and wet and perfect. i could feel every pulse, every clench, every desperate attempt to pull me deeper.
"you feel so good," i told her, my voice rough with need. "so fucking perfect around my cock. like you were made for me."
"i wasā" she gasped. "made for youāonly youā"
i started a slow, torturous rhythm. pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in inch by inch. never giving her the hard, fast pace she was begging for. never letting her have enough to push her over the edge. just keeping her there, desperate and needy and completely at my mercy.
"archāpleaseā" she was pulling at the cuffs with every thrust, her body arching up to meet me. "pleaseāi needā"
"what do you need?" i asked, even though i knew. even though we both knew. "tell me."
"need you to fuck meā" she sobbed. "need you to fuck me hardāpleaseā"
"why should i?" i asked, grinding deep and holding myself there. the pressure against her clit made her cry out, made her walls clench around me. "you didn't give me what i wanted. you made me wait. made me beg."
"i'm sorryā" the words were coming out in a rush now, desperate and broken. "i'm so sorryāpleaseāi'll never do it againā"
"won't you?" i pulled back and slammed in hard, just once, and she screamed. "you won't try to take control again? won't try to see how far you can push me?"
"noānoāi won'tāi promiseā"
i did it again. one hard thrust, then back to the slow, torturous pace. her whole body was covered in sweat, and i could see the desperation in her eyes. she was completely wrecked, and we'd barely even started.
"i don't know if i believe you," i said, and i could hear the dark edge in my voice. the part of me that loved thisāloved having her helpless beneath me, loved watching her fall apart, loved knowing that i was the only one who could give her what she needed. "i think you liked being in control. liked watching me beg."
"i didā" she admitted, and there was something raw in her voice. "i did like itābut i like this moreālike you in controlāpleaseā"
that admission did something to me. broke something loose in my chest. because she was rightāwe both knew she liked it when i was in charge. liked submitting to me. liked letting me take care of her. and tonight had been fun, had been hot as hell, but thisāthis was what we both needed.
"that's my girl," i murmured, and i finallyā*finally*āgave her what she wanted.
i started fucking her properly. hard and deep and fast, each thrust deliberate and powerful. the bed slammed against the wall with every movement, the headboard creaking, and i didn't care. didn't care about anything except the feeling of her around me and the sounds she was making.
"yesāyesāoh godā" she was screaming now, her voice hoarse and broken. "yesāfuckāarchā"
i shifted the angle, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder, and the new position let me go even deeper. she screamed again, her whole body arching, and i felt her pussy clench around me like a vice.
"that's it," i growled, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "take it. take what i give you."
i could feel my own orgasm building, could feel the pressure coiling at the base of my spine, but i forced it back. not yet. not until she'd learned her lesson. not until she was completely destroyed.
i reached between us, my thumb finding her clit, and i pressed down hard. her whole body convulsing, and i felt her right on the edgeā
and stopped moving.
"noā" the word came out as a wail. "noāpleaseādon't stopā"
"not yet," i said, holding myself deep inside her but not moving. my thumb stayed on her clit, pressing just hard enough to keep her hovering but not enough to push her over. "you don't come until i say so. understand?"
"yesāyesāi understandāpleaseā"
i started moving again, but slower this time. long, deep strokes that made us both groan. i could feel every inch of her, could feel how wet she was, could feel her walls fluttering around me.
"you're so close, aren't you?" i asked, and i could hear the strain in my own voice. "so desperate to come. so desperate for me to let you."
"yesā" she sobbed. "yesāpleaseāi need itā"
"i know you do," i said, and i picked up the pace slightly. not enough. never enough. "but you're going to wait for me. going to be patient. going to show me you can be good."
"i canā" she gasped. "i can be goodāpleaseā"
i fucked her like that for what felt like foreverābringing her right to the edge over and over again, then pulling back just enough to keep her from falling. every time i felt her getting close, i'd change something. the angle. the speed. the pressure on her clit. keeping her in that space between pleasure and desperation.
her voice was completely wrecked now, hoarse from screaming. her body was trembling uncontrollably, covered in sweat, and the sheets beneath us were soaked. i could see tear tracks on her cheeks, could see the desperation in her eyes, and it fed something dark and primal in me.
this was what i'd needed. this was what i'd been craving while she'd been riding me. the ability to control her pleasure. to decide when she came. to watch her fall apart knowing that i was the one doing it to her.
"pleaseā" her voice was barely a whisper now. "pleaseādaddyāpleaseā"
there it was. daddy. the word that meant she was completely gone. completely surrendered.
but i wasn't done yet.
i pulled out completely, and she actually wailed. the sound was desperate, broken, and it made my cock throb.
"archānoāpleaseā"
"shh," i said, and i flipped her over onto her stomach. the cuffs twisted, her arms crossing above her head, and i heard the chain clink against the headboard. "i'm not done with you yet."
i pulled her hips up, positioning her on her knees with her face pressed into the pillow, and i took a moment just to look. her ass was in the air, her pussy swollen and dripping.
"fuck," i groaned, running my hands over her ass, her hips, her back. "you look so fucking good like this."
i positioned myself at her entrance and pushed in slowly. the new angle was deeper, tighter, and we both made sounds of pleasure. i could feel her walls clenching around me, could feel how close she still was.
"archā" her voice was muffled by the pillow. "pleaseā"
i started fucking her again, hard and deep, and the new angle let me go even deeper than before. my hands gripped her hips, pulling her back onto my cock with every thrust, and i could feel myself getting close. could feel my control starting to slip.
"you gonna come for me?" i asked, my voice rough. "gonna come on my cock like a good girl?"
"yesāyesāplease let meā"
"not yet," i said, and i reached around to find her clit again. the angle was awkward, but i managed, and the moment my fingers made contact she screamed into the pillow.
i could feel my orgasm building to the point where i couldn't hold it back much longer. could feel the pressure becoming unbearable. but i needed to hear her say it one more time. needed to hear her complete surrender.
"who do you belong to?" i growled, my fingers working her clit in tight circles.
"youā" she sobbed. "youāi belong to youā"
"say it again," i commanded, fucking her harder.
"i belong to youā" her voice was breaking. "only youāalways youā"
"that's right," i said, and i could feel my control finally snapping. "you're mine. all mine."
"yesāyesāyoursāpleaseādaddyāplease let me comeāi can'tāi can't hold it anymoreā"
i leaned over her, my chest against her back, my lips at her ear.
"look at me," i commanded, and she turned her head, her eyes struggling to focus on my face. they were glazed with tears and pleasure, barely able to stay open. "i want to see you when you come. want to watch you fall apart."
"pleaseā"
"come for me," i growled. "now."
she shattered.
her whole body convulsed, her pussy clamping down on me so hard it almost hurt, and she screamed my nameāhoarse and broken and perfect. i felt her orgasm in waves, felt each pulse and clench, and it dragged my own orgasm out of me with brutal force.
i came inside her with a roar, my hips jerking erratically, and the pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain. i could feel myself emptying into her, could feel the warmth spreading between us, and i couldn't stopācouldn't stop moving, couldn't stop coming, couldn't stop claiming her in the most primal way possible.
white spots danced across my vision. my whole body was shaking with the force of it, every muscle locked tight, and for a moment i couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel.
when it finally subsided, we were both gasping for air, both trembling and covered in sweat. my arms were shaking with the effort of holding myself up, and y/n looked completely destroyed beneath meāher eyes unfocused, her lips swollen, tear tracks on her cheeks.
i pulled out slowly, and we both made sounds of loss. my cum was already dripping out of her, and the sight made something primal and satisfied settle in my chest. marked. claimed. mine.
i carefully helped her roll back over, untangling the cuffs, and i looked up at her wrists. red marks where she'd been pulling against the restraints. guilt flickered through meāhad i gone too far?ābut then her eyes found mine, and she smiled.
soft. sated. completely content.
"happy anniversary," she whispered, her voice absolutely wrecked.
i reached up and unlocked the cuffs, my fingers gentle as i freed her wrists. i rubbed the red marks carefully, checking to make sure i hadn't hurt her, and she let me. the moment she was released, her arms came around me, pulling me down against her, and i went willingly. i gathered her into my arms, rolling us so she was tucked against my chest, and i pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"happy anniversary, baby," i murmured, my hand stroking through her hair. "i love you."
"i love you too," she said, and i could hear the smile in her voice despite how exhausted she sounded.
we lay there in the darkness, both of us completely spent, our breathing slowly returning to normal. my hand traced idle patterns on her back, and i felt her start to drift off against me.
"arch?" she mumbled, half-asleep.
"yeah?"
"we should do that again sometime."
i laughed softly, pressing another kiss to her hair. "which part? you tying me up, or me wrecking you after?"
"both," she said, and i could feel her smile against my chest. "definitely both."
the bar was loudātoo loud. the kind of noise that came from a crew that had been working fourteen-hour days for three weeks straight and finally had a night off. y/n sat at the edge of the group, nursing a gin and tonic that had gone warm in her hand, half-listening to one of the producers tell a story she'd already heard twice.
drew was across the room, leaning against the bar with rudy and chase. his arms were crossed, that usual unreadable expression on his faceāthe one that made it impossible to tell if he was bored, annoyed, or just existing. she'd spent a year trying to crack that exterior. a year of "good morning"s that got one-word responses. a year of trying to make him laugh on set, only to get a tight smile that never reached his eyes.
she'd given up two weeks ago.
well. mostly.
her eyes flicked back to him without meaning to, and she caught herself, looking down at her drink instead. this was pathetic. he clearly didn't like her, and she needed to accept that and move on.
"long day, huh?"
the voice came from her left, and she turned to see one of the camera guysāmark? mike? she couldn't rememberāsliding into the seat next to her. too close. his smile was wide, too friendly, the kind that made her spine stiffen.
"yeah," she said, polite but clipped. "exhausting."
"you were great today, though. that scene in the hallway?" he let out a low whistle. "intense."
"thanks."
she shifted in her seat, angling her body away from him slightly, but he didn't take the hint. he leaned in closer, and she could smell the beer on his breath, something sour underneath it.
"you know, i've been wanting to talk to you more," he said, his voice dropping lower. "you're always so busy on set."
"yeah, well. lots to do."
she took a sip of her drink, hoping he'd get bored and leave. instead, his hand landed on the small of her back.
her entire body went rigid.
it wasn't aggressive. it wasn't even that firm. but it was thereāuninvited, unwelcome, too familiar. his fingers splayed across the curve of her spine, and she felt her stomach twist.
she shifted forward, trying to dislodge his hand without making a scene, but he just moved with her, his palm pressing more insistently.
"you okay?" he asked, and the false concern in his voice made her skin crawl.
"i'm fine," she said, her voice tight.
she wasn't fine.
she could feel eyes on her. not hisāsomeone else's. the weight of a gaze so heavy it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
she didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
---
drew's jaw locked the second he saw it.
he'd been half-listening to rudy talk about some hiking trail he wanted to check out, his beer halfway to his lips, when his eyes drifted across the room. he didn't mean to look for her. he never meant to. but he always did.
and there she was.
with that fucking camera guy's hand on her.
the way she stiffened. the way her shoulders pulled in, her body curling forward like she was trying to make herself smaller. the way her fingers tightened around her glass.
his vision tunneled.
he didn't hear rudy anymore. didn't hear the music or the laughter or the noise of the bar. all he could see was herāuncomfortable, trapped, trying to be polite when she shouldn't have to be.
his hand moved on instinct, shoving his beer into rudy's chest.
"whoa, dudeā"
drew didn't respond. he was already moving.
his boots hit the floor with purpose, his strides long and deliberate. the crowd parted without him having to say a wordāsomething about the look on his face made people step aside.
she still hadn't turned around, but he saw the moment she felt him coming. her spine straightened. her breath caught.
the camera guy noticed too late.
drew's hand landed on his shoulderāfirm, unyielding. "she's good, man. thanks."
his voice was calm. too calm. the kind of calm that came right before a storm.
the guy's hand jerked away from her back like he'd been burned, his eyes going wide as he looked up at drew. "oh, hey, i was justā"
"i know what you were doing." drew's smile didn't reach his eyes. "and you're done."
the guy stammered something, but drew wasn't listening. his attention was already on her.
she'd turned in her seat, her eyes wide, her lips parted like she was about to say something. he didn't give her the chance.
"you okay?" he asked, his voice dropping lower, softer. just for her.
she blinked. "iāyeah, i'm fine."
"you sure?"
there was something in his toneāsomething territorial and protective and too intense for a co-star who barely spoke to her. her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face.
"drew, i'm fine. really."
he didn't believe her.
his hand found hers, his fingers curling around her wristānot rough, but firm enough that she couldn't pull away even if she wanted to. "come on."
"whatā"
"come on," he repeated, already pulling her to her feet.
"drewā"
but he was already moving, weaving through the crowd with her in tow. she stumbled slightly, her heels catching on the floor, but he didn't slow down. his grip on her wrist was steady, grounding, and she found herself following without resistance.
the cool night air hit her the second they stepped outside.
he led her around the side of the building, into a narrow alley that was empty except for a dumpster and a flickering streetlight. the noise from the bar faded into a dull hum, and suddenly it was just the two of them.
he let go of her wrist and took a step back, running a hand through his hair. his chest was rising and falling too fast, his jaw still tight.
she stared at him, her confusion morphing into frustration.
"what the hell is your problem?"
he let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "my problem?"
he turned away from her, his hands going to his hips, and she saw his shoulders tense. he stood there for a moment, his back to her, and she could practically feel the anger radiating off him.
"drewā"
he spun around, and suddenly he was moving toward her.
two long strides, and he was in her spaceāso close she had to tilt her head back to look at him. his breath was hot against her face, minty and sharp, and his eyes were blazing.
"you are my fucking problem," he said, his voice low and rough.
her breath caught.
she should've been scared. should've stepped back, put distance between them. but she didn't.
because the way he was looking at herālike she was the only thing in the world that mattered, like he was barely holding himself togetherāit didn't scare her.
it made her heart race for an entirely different reason.
"what?" she whispered.
his eyes dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes. his hands were clenched at his sides, like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for her.
"you," he said again, his voice breaking slightly. "you're my problem. you've been my problem for a year."
she didn't move. didn't breathe.
"i can'tā" he stopped, his jaw working. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't stop watching you. and when i see some asshole put his hands on you like thatā"
he cut himself off, his hand coming up to grip the back of his neck. he looked away, his chest heaving.
"drew," she said softly.
he looked back at her, and the vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke her.
she didn't think. she just reached out.
her fingers found his, tentative at first, then firmer. his hand was warm, calloused, trembling slightly. the moment their palms touched, she felt him inhale sharplyālike the contact burned.
his fingers curled around hers instinctively, gripping tight. too tight. like he was drowning and she was the only thing keeping him above water.
for a heartbeat, maybe two, he just stood there. his thumb brushed across her knucklesāonce, twiceāand she saw something crack in his expression. his eyes closed, his jaw unclenching, his shoulders dropping just slightly.
he was melting.
she could see it happening in real timeāthe walls he'd spent a year building starting to crumble. his grip on her hand softened, became something gentler, more reverent. his breathing evened out.
she took half a step closer, her other hand lifting toward his chestā
and he flinched.
his eyes snapped open, wild and panicked, and before she could process what was happening, he ripped his hand away from hers like she'd burned him.
"drewā"
"i can't." his voice was hoarse, broken. he took a step back, then another, his hands coming up like he was warding her off. "i can't do this."
"what are youā"
"i'm sorry." he shook his head, his expression shuttering closed again, that familiar mask sliding back into place. but she could see the cracks in it nowāthe way his hands were shaking, the way his chest was still heaving. "i shouldn't haveāthis was a mistake."
the words hit her like a slap.
"a mistake?" her voice came out smaller than she intended, and she hated how much it wavered. "you just told me i've been your problem for a year, and now it's a mistake?"
he wouldn't look at her. his jaw was locked again, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"drew, look at meā"
"i have to go."
and then he was walking away.
not runningāthat would've been too honest, too raw. just walking, his strides long and purposeful, like he had somewhere to be. like he hadn't just torn her open and left her bleeding in an alley.
"drew!" she called after him, but he didn't stop. didn't even slow down.
she stood there, her hand still tingling where he'd held it, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might crack her ribs.
what the hell just happened?
one minute he was looking at her like she was everything, holding her hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. and the nextā
gone.
she pressed her palm against the brick wall behind her, trying to steady herself. her legs felt weak, her mind spinning.
he'd been right there. right there. she'd felt him softening, felt him letting her in.
and then he'd run.
she let out a shaky breath, her eyes stinging.
"you are my fucking problem," he'd said.
yeah. well. the feeling was mutual.
---
the next day on set felt like walking through a minefield.
she'd barely slept. every time she closed her eyes, she saw himāthe way he'd looked at her in that alley, the way his hand had trembled in hers, the way he'd run.
now she was standing under the harsh set lights, trying to focus on the scene they were blocking. it was supposed to be a group sceneāher, drew, madelyn, chase, and a few others crowded around a kitchen island, laughing and improvising dialogue about some party.
except no one was laughing.
the air felt thick, charged with something unspoken. every time she moved, she could feel eyes on her. every time she spoke, her voice sounded too loud, too forced.
and drewā
drew was a statue across the kitchen island.
he hadn't said a word to her all morning. hadn't even looked at her during the table read. just stood there with his arms crossed, his jaw tight, staring at some point past her shoulder like she didn't exist.
but she could feel him. the weight of his presence, the tension radiating off him in waves.
"okay, let's run it from the top," the director called. "and rememberāthis is supposed to be fun. loose. you're all friends here."
right. friends.
she forced a smile and picked up her prop drink, trying to ignore the way her hands were shaking.
the scene started. madelyn launched into her line with easy charm, chase cracked a joke that got a genuine laugh from the crew. she delivered her line on cue, hit her mark, kept her expression light.
but she couldn't help it.
her eyes drifted toward himājust for a second. just to see if he was still avoiding her, still pretending she didn't exist.
he wasn't.
he was staring right at her.
not the detached, distant look she'd gotten used to over the past year. not the cold indifference he'd perfected.
this was something else entirely.
his blue eyes were locked on hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. there was so much sadness in them it made her chest ache. like he was drowning and didn't know how to ask for help. like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
the noise of the set fadedāthe director's voice, the crew shuffling around, chase's laughter. it was just the two of them, staring at each other across a kitchen island that might as well have been an ocean.
"hey."
madelyn's voice cut through the moment, soft but pointed.
she felt madelyn shift beside her, felt her friend's gaze move from her face to drew's and back again. watching. seeing.
oh god.
her entire body tensed. her shoulders went rigid, her smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before she forced it back into place. she looked away from drew quicklyātoo quicklyāand busied herself adjusting the prop in her hand.
"you okay?" madelyn asked, her voice still quiet but laced with something knowing.
she plastered on a brighter smile, trying to salvage it. "yeah, of course. just tired. didn't sleep great."
but madelyn wasn't buying it. her eyes flickered back toward drewāwho was still staring, his jaw tight, his expression unreadableāand then back to her.
understanding dawned across madelyn's face, followed quickly by something that looked like sympathy.
"oh my god," madelyn said quietly, her voice dropping so only she could hear. "drew really did freak out about you last night."
her stomach dropped. "what?"
"rudy told me, butā" madelyn shook her head, her eyes wide. "fuck, i didn't think it actually happened."
she furrowed her brows, her pulse spiking. "what the hell are you talking about?"
"you and drewā"
"leave it alone, maddie."
his voice came from directly behind herālow, rough, edged with warning.
her entire body went rigid. the air left her lungs in a sharp exhale as heat flooded her face, her neck, her chest. he was right there. close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that his voice seemed to vibrate through her spine.
how long had he been standing there? how much had he heard?
she didn't turn around. couldn't. her hands gripped the edge of the kitchen island so hard her knuckles went white.
madelyn's eyes went wide, flicking from her face to somewhere over her shoulderāto drew. her friend's expression shifted from sympathy to something more cautious, more careful.
"drew, i was justā"
"i said leave it." his voice was quieter now, but somehow more dangerous. the kind of tone that didn't need volume to carry weight. "this isn't your business."
the set had gone quiet around them. not silentāthe crew was still moving, still adjusting lights and checking camerasābut the energy had shifted. people were pretending not to notice, but she could feel their awareness, their curiosity pressing in from all sides.
madelyn held his gaze for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. then she exhaled slowly and gave her a look that said we're talking about this later before stepping back.
"okay," madelyn said softly. "okay."
she still hadn't turned around. her heart was hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it. sure everyone could hear it.
he was still there. still standing behind her, close enough that she could smell his cologneācedar and something darker, something that made her head spin.
"y/n." his voice was quieter now. meant only for her. "look at me."
she spun around, her hand already reaching for his wrist. her fingers locked around it with enough force that his eyes widened slightlyāsurprise flickering across his face before she was already moving, already pulling him away from the kitchen island, away from madelyn's wide-eyed stare, away from the crew pretending not to watch.
"we need five," she said to the director as they passed, her voice clipped and sharp. she didn't look back. didn't wait for a response.
"ohāokay?" the director's confused voice trailed behind them, but she was already halfway across the set, her grip on drew's wrist unrelenting as she dragged him toward the row of trailers.
he didn't resist. didn't pull away. just followed, his longer strides keeping pace with her furious momentum.
she shoved the trailer door open hard enough that it banged against the interior wall, then practically threw him inside. he stumbled slightly, catching himself against the small kitchenette counter as she slammed the door shut behind them.
the space felt impossibly small. suffocating. the air between them crackling with something volatile and dangerous.
"you want me to look at you after the fucking nightmare of an emotional rollercoaster you fucking have me on?" her voice cracked on the words, raw and ragged. "no. fuck you."
his chest rose and fell with a slow, controlled breath. his jaw was tight, his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him like he needed something to hold onto.
"y/n, it's complicated."
his voice was low. steady. infuriatingly calm.
"oh, i'm sure, drew. you fuckingā"
he moved.
one second he was across the trailer, the next his hands were cupping her face and his mouth was on hersāhot and desperate and absolutely devastating.
she gasped against his lips, her hands flying up to his chestāwhether to push him away or pull him closer, she didn't know. couldn't think. couldn't breathe.
his fingers threaded into her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss. it wasn't soft. wasn't gentle. it was a year of tension and frustration and want exploding between them, messy and consuming and utterly overwhelming.
her back hit the trailer wall and she didn't remember moving. his body pressed against hers, solid and warm and there, finally there after months of distance and walls and that goddamn stoic mask he wore like armor.
she could taste the desperation on his tongue, feel it in the way his hands trembled slightly against her jaw, the way his breath came ragged and uneven when he finally pulled back just enough to murmur against her mouth.
"don't ever scream at me," he said, his voice rough and commanding. "the only thing i want to hear is you screaming my name."
he didn't give her time to respond. his mouth moved to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there with an intensity that made her entire body go taut. her head fell back against the trailer wall, and a moan escaped herāinvoluntary, desperate, completely unguarded.
he groaned against her skin at the sound of it.
then he stopped.
his hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise as he pulled back, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. his breathing was ragged, unevenālike he'd just run a marathon. she could feel the tension radiating through his entire body, the way every muscle was locked tight with restraint.
"we need to go back," he said, his voice wrecked. barely controlled.
"drewā"
"no." he lifted his head, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch. wild. desperate. hanging on by a thread. "if i stay in this trailer one more fucking second, i'm not going to be able to stop myself from fucking you against that wall."
the words hit her like a physical blow. heat flooded through her, pooling low in her stomach.
"and i can'tā" his jaw clenched, his hands flexing against her hips like he was fighting the urge to pull her closer. "not here. not like this. not when i've waited this fucking long."
he stepped back, and the loss of his body against hers felt like being doused in cold water. she watched him drag a hand through his hair, watched the way his chest heaved with each breath, watched him try to pull himself back together.
"fix your hair," he said quietly, his voice still rough. "we have three minutes before someone comes looking."
she couldn't move. couldn't think past the ache between her legs, the way her lips still tingled from his kiss, the way her entire body was screaming at her to pull him back.
he looked at her one more timeāa look so intense it made her knees weakāthen turned and walked out of the trailer without another word.
---
the airbnb was quiet except for the sound of waves rolling against the shore.
y/n stood at the open balcony doors, the warm barbados night air washing over her skin. the ocean stretched out endlessly before her, dark and vast, the moonlight cutting a silver path across the water. she could taste salt on her lips, feel the humidity settling into her hairāloose and unstyled, falling past her shoulders.
the oversized linen shirt she wore hung off one shoulder, the fabric soft and worn, barely reaching mid-thigh. nothing underneath. she hadn't bothered. it was just her and the ocean and the quiet hum of cicadas in the palm trees.
she'd been standing there for an hour, maybe more, trying to make sense of what had happened in the trailer. trying to calm the ache that still pulsed through her body. trying to understand why he'd walked away when every part of him had been screaming to stay.
not when i've waited this fucking long.
what did that mean?
a knock at the door shattered the silence.
her heart jumped into her throat. she turned, staring at the door like it might give her answers. no one knew where she was staying except production. cast and crew were scattered across different rentals all over the island.
another knock. firmer this time.
she crossed the room slowly, her bare feet silent on the cool tile. her hand hesitated on the doorknob, her pulse hammering in her ears.
she opened it.
drew stood on the other side.
his hair was disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it. his shirt was wrinkled, the top two buttons undone. and his eyesāgod, his eyesāwere dark and wild and locked on her with an intensity that made her knees weak.
for a long moment, neither of them moved.
his gaze droppedāslowly, deliberatelyātaking in the oversized shirt, the bare legs, the way her hair fell loose around her face. when his eyes met hers again, his jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"i tried to stay away," he said, his voice rough and low. "i fucking tried."
he was on her before she could respond, his mouth crashing against hers with a desperation that stole her breath. his hands found her waist, pulling her against him as he kicked the door shut behind him. she gasped into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, and he groanedālow and gutturalālike he'd been starving for this.
"drewā" she breathed, but he swallowed her words, his tongue sliding against hers as he walked her backward toward the couch.
the ocean breeze swept through the open balcony doors, cool against her heated skin. moonlight spilled across the floor, painting everything silver and shadow. he sat down hard on the couch, pulling her onto his lap, and she straddled him, her thighs bracketing his hips.
his hands slid up under the linen shirt, rough palms against bare skin, and he cursed under his breath when he realized she was wearing nothing underneath.
"fuck," he breathed, his eyes dark and wild as they met hers. "you're going to kill me."
she rolled her hips against him, feeling how hard he was through his jeans, and his head fell back against the couch, his jaw clenched tight. his hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, controlling the rhythm even as she rode him.
"that's it," he murmured, his voice rough. "use me. take what you need."
she unbuttoned his jeans with shaking hands, freeing him, and when she sank down onto himāslowly, torturouslyāthey both groaned. he filled her completely, stretching her, and for a moment neither of them moved, just breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
then she started to move.
his hands were everywhereāher hips, her thighs, sliding up under the shirt to cup her breasts. he watched her with an intensity that made her feel exposed, vulnerable, like he could see straight through to her soul. the moonlight caught in his eyes, turning them almost silver, and the sound of the ocean mixed with their ragged breathing, the slap of skin against skin.
"drewā" she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure built inside her.
"i know," he breathed, his thumb finding her clit, circling with just enough pressure to make her cry out. "i've got you. come for me."
she shattered around him, her body clenching tight, and he groaned her name like a prayer, his hips bucking up into her as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
but it wasn't enough.
he stood abruptly, still inside her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bedroom. but he didn't make it. halfway through the kitchen, his control snapped. he pressed her against the counter, his hands gripping her thighs as he thrust into her hard and deep.
"i can'tā" he gasped, his forehead pressed against hers. "i can't wait. i need you now."
"yes," she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair. "don't stop."
he fucked her against the counter with a desperation that bordered on feral, his mouth on her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he could reach. the cool tile pressed against her back, contrasting with the heat of his body, and she could feel him everywhereāinside her, around her, consuming her completely.
"mine," he growled against her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "you're fucking mine."
"yours," she gasped, and that wordāthat surrenderābroke something in him.
he came with a groan that sounded like it was torn from his chest, his body shuddering against hers, and she followed him over the edge again, her vision whiting out as pleasure crashed through her in waves.
they stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, hearts pounding in sync. his hands were gentle now, smoothing over her skin, and when he finally pulled back to look at her, his eyes were softerāvulnerable in a way she'd never seen before.
"i'm sorry," he whispered, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "for walking away. for making you wait. i was terrified."
she cupped his face in her hands, her own eyes stinging with tears she refused to let fall. "don't be sorry. just don't leave again."
"never," he promised, and kissed her like he meant it.
---
the alarm was relentlessāa shrill, insistent beeping that dragged her from sleep. y/n groaned, reaching blindly for her phone on the nightstand, and silenced it with a swipe. the room fell quiet again, just the sound of the ocean through the open balcony doors and drew's steady breathing beside her.
she was naked. sore. the kind of delicious ache that settled deep in her muscles, between her thighs, a reminder of every place he'd touched her, claimed her, made her his. she shifted slightly and felt itāthe pull, the tendernessāand a slow smile curved her lips.
drew's alarm started next, just as loud, just as insistent. he didn't move. didn't even flinch. he was sprawled on his stomach, one arm thrown over her waist, his face buried in the pillow, completely dead to the world.
she reached over him and grabbed his phone, silencing it. they had thirty minutes to get to set. maybe less.
"drew," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. nothing. she tried again, a little louder. "drew, we have to get up."
he made a soundāsomething between a groan and a gruntāand burrowed deeper into the pillow.
she bit her lip, an idea forming. dangerous. reckless. perfect.
she slipped under the covers, the sheet cool against her bare skin as she moved down his body. he was still naked, still half-hard even in sleep, and when she wrapped her hand around him, he stirred slightly, a low sound rumbling in his chest.
she took him in her mouthāslow, deliberateāand felt him harden fully against her tongue.
"fuckā" his voice was rough, sleep-thick and confused, his hips jerking slightly. "whatā"
she hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, and his hand shot down, tangling in her hair beneath the covers.
"jesus christā" he threw the sheet back, and the morning light hit them both. his eyes were wild, pupils blown wide as he stared down at her, his chest heaving. "y/nā"
she pulled off him just long enough to smile. "good morning."
"you'reāfuckāyou're going to kill me," he gasped, but his hand tightened in her hair, guiding her back down. his head fell back against the pillow, his jaw clenched tight as she worked him with her mouth, her tongue, her hand stroking what she couldn't take.
"we're going to be late," she murmured against him, and he groanedāhalf laugh, half moan.
"i don't give a fuck about being late," he breathed, his hips rolling up to meet her. "don't stop."
she didn't. she took him deeper, her tongue working along the underside of his length, and his grip in her hair tightenedānot painful, but claiming, desperate. his hips rolled up again, meeting her rhythm, and she could feel him losing control, the careful restraint he always held onto dissolving with every stroke of her tongue.
"fuckābabyā" his voice broke on the word, raw and wrecked. "just like that. don'tādon't fucking stop."
she hummed around him, and his whole body tensed, his thighs going rigid beneath her hands. she could feel him getting closeāthe way his breathing turned ragged, the way his hand trembled in her hair, the way he kept saying her name like a prayer, like a curse.
"y/nāi'māfuckā"
she took him as deep as she could, and he shattered. his hips jerked up, his hand tightening in her hair as he came with a broken groan, her name spilling from his lips. she swallowed, taking everything he gave her, the intimacy of it settling deep in her chestāsomething raw and vulnerable and entirely theirs.
when she finally pulled off him, his chest was heaving, his eyes half-closed, his hand still tangled in her hair. he looked completely undone.
"come here," he rasped, his voice still rough. he tugged her up his body, his hand sliding to cup her face, his thumb brushing along her jaw like she was something precious.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing hard.
the stage lights cut to black, and the crowd erupts.
i'm standing in the wings, my heart hammering so hard i'm pretty sure the crew members around me can hear it. the final notes of "decide" still ring through the venue, and i'm watchingāreally watchingāas joe soaks in the applause one last time, that black cowboy hat sitting low over his eyes.
that goddamn hat.
some girl threw it at him during the third song, and he's been wearing it ever since, and it's doing something absolutely criminal to my ability to think straight. his dark hair is damp with sweat, curling at the nape of his neck. his shirtāblack, fitted, unbuttoned just enoughāis clinging to his chest, and i can see the definition of his muscles as he raises his arm to wave.
jesus christ.
two weeks. fourteen days of being on a tour bus with joe, sleeping next to him, watching him move around in close quarters, and not being able to touch him the way i want to. not really. not the way that matters. we've managed a few stolen kisses in bathroom stalls, a heated make-out session in a supply closet in denver that left me aching and frustrated for hours afterward, but actual privacy? actual time to be alone together without someone knocking on a door or needing something or the bus hitting a pothole at exactly the wrong moment?
it hasn't happened.
and i've been dying.
i deliberately wore this dress tonightāthe black one that hits mid-thigh, the one with the slit that goes just high enough to be interesting, the one that joe loves because he says it makes my legs look endless. i paired it with the heeled boots he bought me last month. i did my makeup carefully, took extra time with my hair, and i've been wearing his favorite perfume all dayāthe one he always buries his face in, the one that apparently drives him absolutely insane.
i did all of this intentionally. i did this as a promise.
and now he's walking off stage in that goddamn cowboy hat, and i'm standing here like some kind of lovesick groupie, internally combusting because his thighs look incredible in those stage pants, and i can see the outline ofā
stop it, i tell myself firmly. you're in public. there are people everywhere.
but i don't care. that's the problem. that's been the problem for two weeks.
joe's eyes find mine. the public smile drops away instantly, replaced by something darker, hungrier, that makes my stomach clench.
he knows what i'm wearing. he knows what i'm doing.
he doesn't stop walking. doesn't pause to talk to the crew, doesn't acknowledge anyone calling his name. he just reaches out, his hand closing around mine, hot and firm and finallyā
"joeā"
he's already pulling me, dragging me through the backstage chaos, past crew members and equipment cases, and i'm stumbling in these heels trying to keep up but i don't care, i don't care, because his grip is tight and purposeful and god i've needed this, needed himā
the dressing room door slams behind us.
i barely have time to register the spaceāthe mirror, the counter, ābefore joe's spinning me around and his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding. his hands are in my hair, on my waist, everywhere, and i'm kissing him back just as hard, my fingers clutching at his sweat-damp shirt, pulling him closerā
he tastes like adrenaline and want, and i'm making sounds i probably shouldn't be making, little whimpers and gasps that he swallows down like he's starving for them.
"the hatā" i manage to gasp out between kisses, my hands sliding up to touch the brim. "you look so fucking sexy in this hatā"
"uh huh," joe mutters against my mouth, and then his hands are on my thighs, sliding up under my dress, and oh god he's going to find outā
his fingers reach bare skin where there should be fabric, and he makes a sound low in his throat that goes straight between my legs.
"fuck," he breathes, and suddenly i'm being lifted, my ass hitting the cold counter, and joe's stepping between my legs, spreading them wider. the hat tips forward slightly as he leans in, and i catch a glimpse of his eyes underneath the brimādark, focused.
"you're notā" his hands are sliding higher, confirming what he already knows. "jesus christ, you're not wearingā"
"no," i breathe, and my voice comes out shaky. "i'm not wearing anything."
"fuck." his hands are already working at his belt, and the sound of the buckle makes my core clench. his jaw is tight, his breathing harsh, and i can see how hard he is through his pants.
next his hands are pushing my dress up higher , and i'm already so wet i'm probably leaving a mark on this counter, and i don't care, i don't careā
"joe, pleaseā"
"i know," he says, his voice rough, strained. "i know, baby. i've got you."
and then his hands are gripping my hips, pulling me to the edge of the counter, and...
knock knock knock.
we both freeze.
"joe?" his manager's voice comes through the door, muffled but unmistakable. "you in there?"
joe's forehead drops to my shoulder, and i can feel him take a long, shaky breath. his hands are still on my hips, still gripping like he's trying to hold onto this moment, this us, before it slips away again.
"yeah, i'm busy," joe calls out, his voice strained in a way that's probably way too obvious to anyone who knows him.
"well, you've got an interview in five minutes. you need to come out. now."
the silence that follows is deafening. i can feel joe's entire body tense against mine, feel the frustration radiating off him in waves. his grip on my hips tightens for just a second before he lets out a long, defeated exhale.
i start laughingāi can't help it. it's half genuine amusement at the absolute absurdity of this. two weeks of interruptions, and now his manager needs him for an interview.
joe pulls back to look at me, and when he sees me laughing, a reluctant smile breaks across his face. he shakes his head, still wearing that ridiculous cowboy hat, and lets out a laugh that sounds more like a groan.
"i need to calm down," he mutters, his hands sliding to my knees. "i need to just... breathe."
but then his eyes travel upāthe dress bunched around my waist, the fact that i'm completely bareāand his jaw clenches. he looks back at my face, something almost pained in his expression.
"how am i supposed to calm down when you look like that?"
he leans in before i can respond, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, like he's trying to memorize the taste of me. his hand cups my face, and it deepens, becomes almost tender despite the desperation underneath.
it absolutely does not work.
i can feel him getting harder against my thigh, his breathing heavier, his hand starting to slide down my neckā
knock knock knock knock.
much harder this time. much more insistent.
"joe! now, man. the interviewer is here."
we break apart, and joe's head tips back, his eyes closing behind the brim of that stupid hat. he looks like he might actually scream.
"this is a fucking nightmare," he mutters, and i bite my lip to keep from laughing again because yes, yes it absolutely is, and we both know this is going to happen again tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably for the rest of this tour.
---
the green room is chaos in that comfortable, post-show wayāthe band sprawled across mismatched couches, crew members grabbing beers from the cooler, someone's phone playing music too loud. it's the kind of scene that should feel celebratory. last show before the break. they crushed it.
i'm sitting on the far end of one couch, my legs tucked under me, nursing a drink i'm not actually tasting. my dress has settled back down, and i'm acutely aware of every inch of exposed skin, every place joe's hands were just minutes ago.
joe's on the opposite side of the room, perched on the arm of another couch like he can't quite commit to sitting. he's still wearing that fucking cowboy hat. his shirt is partially unbuttonedāwhether from the show or from what happened in the dressing room, i'm not sure. probably both.
he's talking to javi about something, nodding along, and i force myself to focus on the conversation happening around me. adam is telling some story about a fan who tried to climb on stage in portland, and everyone's laughing.
i risk a glance across the room.
joe's looking down at his beer, but the second i look, his eyes flick up. our gazes catch for maybe half a second before we both look away like we've been burned. my face feels hot.
god.
"āand then security just lifted him like a sack of potatoesā"
i laugh at the right moment, take a sip of my drink, try to look normal. but i can feel the tension radiating across the room, that invisible thread pulling tight between us.
someone passes joe another beer. he takes it, says something that makes javi laugh, but his hand is gripping the can too hard. his leg is bouncing.
i shift on the couch, crossing my legs, and when i glance up again, he's looking. this time he doesn't look away fast enough, and i catch the flush creeping up his neck before he turns back to whatever javi is saying.
the interview must have been torture.
"you know what's wild?" adam says suddenly, leaning back with his beer. "this is the quietest tour we've ever done."
my stomach drops.
"what do you mean?" someone asks.
"i mean, usually there's noise." adam grins, gesturing vaguely. "hotel rooms, tour bus, you know. but this time? nothing. you twoā" he points between me and joe, "āhave been on your best behavior. it's honestly impressive."
the room erupts in laughter, and i want to die. i can feel my face burning as i take a very long drink, trying to look anywhere but at joe.
"yeah, man," javi adds, grinning. "i was expecting at least one noise complaint by now."
"maybe they're just really good at being quiet," someone else chimes in, and the laughter gets louder.
joe clears his throat, and when i finally risk a glance at him, he's rubbing the back of his neck, that cowboy hat tilted down like he's trying to hide behind it. his ears are red.
"we're just... respectful," he says, and his voice comes out slightly strained, which only makes everyone laugh harder.
"respectful," adam repeats, shaking his head. "sure, man. whatever you say."
i bite my lip to keep from smiling, and when i look up again, joe's looking at me. just for a second. and the expression on his face is somewhere between mortified and desperately amused, like he's barely holding it together.
i mouth, "best behavior?"
his jaw clenches, and he looks away, taking a long drink of his beer.
the conversation shifts to something elseātour dates, the break, someone's flight tomorrowāand i let myself breathe again. but every few minutes, i feel it. that pull. i'll look up and catch him looking, or he'll shift and i'll notice the way his hand flexes against his thigh, or our eyes will meet across the room for just a heartbeat before we both look away.
it's torture. different than the dressing room, but somehow worse because we have to pretend. we have to sit here and act normal while everyone jokes about how quiet we've been, while my skin is still buzzing from his touch, while he's sitting over there looking like he's about to crawl out of his own skin.
someone's phone buzzes. then mine does.
i pull it out casually, like i'm checking a notification, and see joe's name light up my screen.
"this is torture."
i bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. across the room, joe's looking at his phone, his thumb moving. not looking at me.
i type back: "good."
i see him read it. see the way his hand tightens around his beer, the way he shifts on the couch arm. he types something back.
"four days. i'm going to take my time with you."
my thighs clench involuntarily, and i have to look away, focus on literally anything else. the conversation. my drink. the floor.
when i finally glance back up, joe's talking to javi again, nodding along like nothing happened. but his leg is still bouncing, and his hand keeps running through his hair, messing it up.
four days.
no more interviews. no more interruptions. no more sitting on opposite sides of a room pretending we're not about to combust.
just him and me and nothing else.
i take another sip of my drink and catch him looking one more time. he looks away first, but not before i see itāthat dark promise in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches.
we both know exactly what's going to happen tomorrow.
and we can barely wait.Ā Ā
javi is mid-sentence about the next tour stop when joe just... stops. mid-nod. mid-everything.
he sets his beer down. stands up. and his eyes find mine across the room with this intensity that makes my stomach drop.
he doesn't say anything. just walks toward me with purpose, and when he reaches me, he extends his handāpalm up, an offer. his eyes are dark, certain, but there's something gentle in the way he's waiting for me to take it.
i stand. my hand slides into his.
his fingers close around mineāwarm, firm, finalāand he's already turning toward the door, pulling me with him.
we make it three steps before trent notices.
"finally," he says, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
my face burns, but joe doesn't even break stride. his hand tightens around mine, his jaw set, his ears already turning red, but he doesn't stop. doesn't look back. just keeps moving, keeps pulling me forward like the rest of the world has already faded away.
the door swings open and we're in the hallway, and behind us, the green room eruptsācheers, whistles, someone clapping. the noise echoes down the corridor as joe leads me away from it, his grip on my hand never loosening.
and now that we're alone, he finally looks at me.
"i'm done waiting," he says, his voice rough and low.
and then his hand is on my face, tilting my chin up, and he's kissing me like he's been starving for it.
the kiss breaks only because we have to moveāhave to get somewhere, anywhere that isn't this hallway. joe's hand finds mine again and we're half-running, half-stumbling down the corridor, past crew members and equipment cases, until he yanks open a door i didn't even see and pulls me inside.Ā Ā
the dressing room is dark. small. empty. perfect.
the door clicks shut behind us and joe's on me immediately, backing me up against somethingāa counter, i realize, when my hips hit the edge. his mouth crashes into mine, desperate and hungry, his hands sliding up my thighs with purpose, bunching my dress higher with every passing second.
"couldn'tā" he breathes against my lips, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks. "one more fucking secondācouldn't have lastedā"
i'm already lifting myself onto the counter, my legs parting to make room for him, and the sound he makes when i doālow and broken and wreckedāsends liquid heat flooding through my entire body. his hands are everywhere at once, sliding higher, pushing my dress up around my waist, and when he presses against me i can feel exactly how hard he is through his jeans.
"fuck," he groans into my mouth, his hips rolling forward involuntarily. "you have no ideaāno fucking idea how long i'veā"
but then he stops. pulls back. his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving, and for a second i think something's wrongāuntil i see the look in his eyes. dark. hungry. determined.
his hands slide down to my knees, gently pushing them wider, and my breath catches.
"joeā"
"i need to taste you first," he says, his voice absolutely wrecked. "i needāfuck, i've been thinking about this for weeks. dreaming about it. i need a reminder to know what you taste like before i lose my fucking mind."
and then he's dropping to his knees.
my heart is pounding so hard i can hear it in my ears. the room is dark enough that i can barely see him, but i can feel everythingāhis hands on my thighs, spreading them wider, his breath hot against my skin as he pushes my dress higher.
the first brush of his breath against me makes me gasp.
"fuck," he whispers, almost to himself. "look at you."
and then his mouth is on me.
the first touch of his tongueāsoft, exploratory, reverentāmakes my entire body jolt. my hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in those curls i've been fantasizing about touching, and he groans against me, the sound vibrating through my entire core.
"joeāoh my godā"
he doesn't respond with words. just does it again, his tongue moving in a slow, deliberate stroke that makes my head fall back against the mirror behind me. he's taking his time, learning me, tasting every inch of me like he's savoring it, and it's somehow both too much and not nearly enough.
his hands grip my thighs harder, holding me open, holding me exactly where he wants me, and when his tongue circles my clitālight, teasingāi actually whimper.
"that's it," he murmurs against me, and i can hear the satisfaction in his voice. "tell me what you need, baby."
"everythingā" i gasp, my hips trying to move but his hands hold me still. "god, everything you're doingā"
he hums in approval and then his tongue is moving faster, more purposeful, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention that makes my thighs start to shake. every nerve ending in my body is on fire, concentrated in this one spot where his mouth is working absolute magic, and i can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.
and then he slides one finger inside me.
the sound i make is embarrassingāhigh and desperate and completely beyond my controlābut joe just groans in response, the vibration making everything more intense.
"fuck," he breathes against me. "you're so wet. so fucking perfect."
he starts moving his finger slowly, curling it just right, and my grip on his hair tightens. his tongue never stops, never lets up, working in perfect rhythm with his hand, and i'm already climbing, already so close it's almost painful.
"joeāi'māfuckā"
"not yet," he says, and then he pulls back just enough to make me whimper in protest. "not yet, baby. i want to feel you fall apart, but not yet."
he adds a second finger and the stretch makes me gasp. his mouth returns to my clit, his tongue moving in slow circles while his fingers pump deeper, and i'm trembling now, my whole body wound so tight i might actually break.
"pleaseā" i don't even know what i'm begging for anymore. more. less. everything. "please, joeā"
"i know," he murmurs, his voice rough with his own need. "i know, baby. you're doing so good. so fucking good for me."
his fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes my vision blur, and his tongue flicks faster, more insistent, and i'm right there, right on the edge, so close i can barely breatheā
and then he stops again.
"joeā" it comes out as a broken sob.
"look at me," he says, his voice commanding despite how wrecked he sounds. "i want to see your face when you come."
i force my eyes open, force myself to look down at him, and the sight nearly undoes meāhis hair a mess from my hands, his eyes dark and hungry, his mouth glisteningā
"that's it," he says, holding my gaze. "keep your eyes on me."
and then his mouth is back on me and his fingers are moving and he's relentless now, absolutely relentless, his tongue circling and flicking and his fingers pumping and curling and hitting that spot over and over and overā
"come for me," he says against me, his voice vibrating through my entire body. "let me taste it. let me feel it. come on, baby, give it to meā"
and i shatter.
the orgasm hits me like a wave, crashing over me so hard my back arches off the counter, my thighs clamping around his head, my fingers pulling his hair hard enough that it has to hurt but he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working me through it as i fall apart completely. i'm gasping, trembling, making sounds i've never made before, and he's groaning against me like my pleasure is his, like this is exactly what he needed.
it goes on and on, wave after wave, until i'm oversensitive and shaking and pulling him away because it's too much, too intense, too everything.
he rises slowly, his hands sliding up my sides, steadying me, and when he kisses me i can taste myself on his tongueāsalt and heat and desperation.
"now," he says against my lips, his voice barely controlled, his hands already moving to his belt. "now i need to be inside you."Ā Ā
the sound of his belt buckle is the loudest thing in the room. metal against metal, then the rasp of his zipper, and i'm still trembling from my orgasm but i need more, need him, need to feel him everywhere.
he shoves his jeans down just enough and then he's there, right there, the head of his cock pressing against me, and we both make this soundābroken and desperate and finally.
"fuck," he breathes, his forehead dropping to mine. his whole body is shaking. "i've wanted this for so fucking longā"
and then he pushes inside.
the stretch is immediate and overwhelming and perfect. my head falls back against the mirror with a thud i barely feel because all i can focus on is the sensation of him filling me, inch by inch, slow and deliberate despite how badly he's shaking.
"oh my godā" the words come out as a gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
"jesus," he groans, his hips stuttering. "you feelāfuck, you feel so goodāso fucking perfectā"
he bottoms out and we both freeze, just breathing, just feeling, and it's so intense i think i might actually die from it. he's buried completely inside me, his body pressed against mine, his face in my neck, and i can feel his heart pounding against my chest.
"move," i whisper, my voice wrecked. "please, joe, moveā"
he pulls back slowlyātorturously slowlyāand then thrusts back in hard enough to make me cry out. my legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, and the angle makes us both moan.
"like that?" he asks, his voice rough against my ear. "is that what you need?"
"yesāgod, yesāharderā"
he doesn't need to be told twice. his hands grip my hips, holding me exactly where he wants me, and then he's movingāreally movingāeach thrust deep and purposeful and hitting something inside me that makes my vision blur. the counter is digging into my thighs but i don't care, can't care, because nothing has ever felt like this.
"you're so tight," he groans, his rhythm getting faster, more desperate. "so fucking wetāgod, i can'tāi'm not gonna lastā"
"don't care," i gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair again, pulling him into a kiss that's more teeth than anything else. "don't stopāplease don't stopā"
he adjusts his angle slightly and the next thrust hits exactly right, and i actually scream. my whole body arches into him, my nails raking down his back, and he does it again, and again, relentless now, chasing both our pleasure with single-minded focus.
"that's it," he pants against my mouth. "that's it, baby, i can feel youāyou're so closeāfuck, i can feel you getting tighterā"
he's right. i'm already climbing again, impossibly fast, the pressure building low in my belly with every thrust. his hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit, and the added sensation makes me sob.
"come on," he urges, his voice strained. "come on, baby, i need to feel itāneed to feel you come on my cockā"
his thumb circles faster, his hips never stopping, and i'm right there, right on the edge again, so close i can barely breatheā
"joeāi'māfuckā"
"i know," he groans. "i know, i can feel itāgod, you're squeezing me so tightācome for me, baby, pleaseā"
and i do.
the second orgasm is somehow even more intense than the first, crashing through me like lightning, making my whole body seize up as i clench around him. i'm vaguely aware that i'm making noiseāloud, broken, desperate noiseābut i can't stop, can't control it, can't do anything but ride it out as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.
"fuckā" joe's rhythm falters, his hips stuttering. "i'māshit, i'm gonnaāwhereā"
"don't stop," i gasp, still trembling, my nails digging into his shoulders. "don't stopāpleaseāi want to feel itā"
he groans, burying his face in my neck, and his hips start moving againāharder now, more desperate, chasing his own release. each thrust sends aftershocks through my oversensitive body, and i'm clinging to him, urging him on with broken words and gasping breaths.
"yesālike thatāgod, joeā"
his rhythm is getting erratic, his breathing ragged against my skin, and i can feel how close he isāthe tension in his body, the way his fingers are gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
"come for me," i whisper in his ear, my voice wrecked. "i want to feel itāwant to feel youāpleaseā"
that's all it takes. he thrusts deep one more time and then he's coming, his whole body going rigid, a broken groan tearing from his throat as he spills inside me. i can feel itāthe heat, the pulse of himāand it triggers another aftershock that makes us both moan.
he collapses against me, his face buried in my neck, both of us gasping for air. his heart is pounding so hard i can feel it against my chest, and my legs are still wrapped around him, holding him close, neither of us ready to move yet.
"holy shit," he finally breathes against my skin.
i laughāactually laughābecause that's the understatement of the century. my whole body feels like jelly, boneless and satisfied and completely wrecked in the best possible way.
"yeah," i manage. "holy shit."
he lifts his head to look at me, and even in the dim light i can see the satisfied smile on his face. his hair is a complete disasterāmy faultāand his lips are swollen from kissing, and he's never looked more beautiful.
"worth the wait?" he asks, his voice still rough.
i pull him into a kissāslower this time, softer, but no less intense.
"so worth it," i whisper against his lips. "so fucking worth it."
you were straddling rafe's lap on his couch, his hands gripping your hips as you kissed him. it had started slowāit always didābut now his fingers were digging into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you could feel how hard he was beneath you.
he broke the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck, biting at your pulse point, and you gasped. his hands slid under your shirt, rough and possessive, and you ground down against him instinctively.
"fuck," he muttered against your skin. "you're gonna kill me."
you pulled back slightly to look at him, your heart racing. you'd been thinking about this for weeksāworking up the courage, wondering if you were ready. but watching him now, his eyes dark with want, his jaw tight with restraint, you knew.
"rafe," you said quietly.
"yeah?" his hands were still moving, sliding up your sides, and you could tell he was barely listening.
"rafe, stop. look at me."
he stilled immediately, his eyes snapping to yours. there was concern there now, mixed with the hunger. "what's wrong?"
"nothing's wrong." you took a breath. "i want you to take me to the red room."
for a moment, he just stared at you. then his grip on your hips tightened, and something shifted in his expressionāsurprise, heat, possession all at once.
"say that again," he said, his voice low.
"take me to the red room. i'm ready."
"you're sure?" his eyes searched your face. "because once we go in there, i'm not holding back. you understand that?"
"i understand."
"and you trust me?"
"completely."
he studied you for another long moment, then lifted you off his lap and stood. "come on."
you followed him upstairs, your pulse racing. you'd never been to this part of his houseāhe'd told you about the room months ago, told you what it was for, but he'd never pushed. he'd waited for you to be ready.
he stopped at a door at the end of the hall and pulled a key from his pocket. your breath caught as he unlocked it and pushed it open, then stepped aside to let you enter first.
the room was... not what you expected. it was elegant, almost sophisticated. deep red walls, soft lighting, a large bed with black silk sheets in the center. but it was the other things that made your stomach flipāthe restraints built into the bedframe, the cabinet against one wall that you knew held toys, the bench at the foot of the bed, the hooks in the ceiling.
"what do you think?" rafe asked from behind you.
"it's..." you turned to look at him. "it's perfect."
he crossed to you slowly, deliberately, and caught your chin in his hand. "last chance to change your mind. we can go back downstairs, pretend this didn't happen."
"i don't want to pretend." you held his gaze. "i want this. i want you."
"fuck," he breathed, and then he was kissing you again, harder this time, more demanding. his hands were everywhereāyour hair, your face, your bodyāclaiming you.
he walked you backward until your legs hit the bed, then broke the kiss. "strip. everything off. now."
you did as he said, pulling off your clothes with shaking hands while he watched. when you were naked, he circled you slowly, his eyes raking over every inch of your body.
"so fucking perfect," he murmured. "do you know how long i've wanted to bring you in here? how many times i've imagined you tied to that bed, completely at my mercy?"
"tell me," you whispered.
"every single day since i met you." he stopped in front of you. "get on the bed. on your back."
you climbed onto the silk sheets, and he followed, kneeling between your legs. he ran his hands up your thighs, watching your face.
"here's how this works," he said. "in this room, you do exactly what i tell you. you don't come until i say you can. you don't move unless i give you permission. and if anything gets too intense, if you need me to stop, you say 'red.' understand?"
"yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, rafe."
"good girl." he reached up and pulled your arms above your head, securing your wrists in the restraints. you tested themāthey were padded, comfortable, but completely secure. "how does that feel?"
"good. a little scary."
"scary how?"
"like i'm completely helpless."
"you are completely helpless." he leaned down, his mouth close to your ear. "you're tied to my bed, naked, with no way to stop me from doing whatever i want to you. does that turn you on?"
"yes," you admitted.
"i can see that." his hand slid between your legs, and you were already wet. "fuck, you're soaked. you like being helpless for me, don't you?"
"yes."
he pushed two fingers inside you without warning, and you gasped. "i'm going to make you come so many times tonight you lose count. i'm going to use every toy in that cabinet on you. i'm going to push you right to your limit and then push you further. and you're going to take it all like the good girl you are."
"rafeā"
"shh. i didn't say you could talk." he pulled his fingers out and stood, walking to the cabinet. you watched as he opened it, revealing an array of toysāvibrators, plugs, clamps, things you didn't even recognize.
he selected a small vibrator and returned to the bed. "this is going to stay on your clit while i fuck you. you're not allowed to come until i say so. if you come without permission, i stop everything and leave you tied here. understand?"
"yes."
he positioned the vibrator and turned it on, and you immediately arched off the bed. the sensation was intense, almost too much, and when he pushed inside you with his cock, you nearly came right then.
"don't you dare," he warned, reading your face. "hold it."
he started moving, slow and deep, and the combination of his cock and the vibrator was overwhelming. you pulled against the restraints instinctively, needing something to hold onto, but there was nothing.
"that's it," he said, watching you struggle. "fight it. i want to see you try to hold back."
"i can'tārafe, pleaseā"
"you can. you will." he picked up the pace, fucking you harder, and you were right on the edge, desperate and aching.
"please let me come," you begged. "please, i needā"
"not yet." he reached down and turned up the vibrator, and you cried out. "i want you desperate. i want you so far gone you can't think straight."
tears were streaming down your face now from the effort of holding back. every nerve ending was on fire, every muscle tense, and you were shaking with the need to come.
"look at you," he said, his voice rough. "so fucking beautiful like this. tied up, crying, begging me to let you come. this is what i wanted. this is what i've been dreaming about."
"rafe, please, i'm begging youā"
"come," he commanded. "come right fucking now."
your orgasm hit like a freight train, intense and overwhelming, and you screamed his name as you clenched around him. he fucked you through it, prolonging it, and when you finally started to come down, he pulled out.
"we're not done," he said, removing the vibrator. "not even close."
he untied your wrists, and you thought maybe he'd give you a break, but instead he flipped you onto your stomach and retied your hands to the headboard.
"ass up," he commanded, and you obeyed, getting onto your knees. you felt exposed like this, vulnerable, and when his hand came down on your ass in a sharp slap, you gasped.
"i'm going to spank you until you're red," he said. "and then i'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. count them."
"one," you gasped as his hand connected again.
"louder."
"two!"
he spanked you methodically, each strike measured and controlled, and by the time he reached twenty, you were sobbing into the sheets. your ass was on fire, throbbing, and you were somehow even more turned on than before.
"good girl," he said, smoothing his hand over the heated skin. "you took that so well. now i'm going to reward you."
he pushed inside you from behind, and the new angle made you see stars. he was deeper like this, hitting spots that made you moan with every thrust.
"touch yourself," he ordered. "make yourself come on my cock."
your hand flew between your legs, finding your clit, and the added stimulation was almost too much. you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, every touch electric.
"that's it," he groaned. "fuck, you feel so good. so tight. so perfect."
you came again, harder this time, and he followed right after, groaning your name as he filled you. he collapsed on top of you for a moment, both of you breathing hard, then pulled out and untied your wrists.
"come here," he said, pulling you into his arms. he examined your wrists carefully, making sure the restraints hadn't hurt you, then kissed each one. "you okay?"
"yeah," you managed. "that was..."
"intense?"
"amazing."
he smiled and pulled you closer. "we're not done yet. i told you i was going to use everything in that cabinet."
your eyes widened. "rafe, i don't think i canā"
"you can. and you will." he kissed your forehead. "but we're going to take a break first. drink some water, catch your breath."
he got up and returned with a bottle of water, making you drink half of it before he was satisfied. then he laid back down beside you, his hand tracing patterns on your hip.
"how do you feel?" he asked.
"good. really good. a little overwhelmed."
"that's normal. this is intense, especially the first time." he studied your face. "you sure you want to keep going? we can stop here if you need to."
"no. i want more." you met his eyes. "i want everything."
something dark and possessive flashed across his face. "careful what you wish for."
he got up and went back to the cabinet, returning with several itemsāanother vibrator, larger than the first, some kind of clamp, and a blindfold.
"i'm going to blindfold you," he said. "take away your sight so every other sensation is heightened. then i'm going to put these clamps on your nipplesāthey'll hurt at first, but the pain will turn to pleasure. and while you're dealing with that, i'm going to edge you with this vibrator until you're begging me to let you come. sound good?"
your mouth went dry. "yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, rafe."
"good girl." he secured the blindfold over your eyes, and suddenly you were in darkness. you heard him moving around, felt the bed dip as he climbed back on, and then his hands were on your breasts.
"these are going to hurt," he warned, and then you felt the clamp close on your nipple. he was rightāit hurt, a sharp pinch that made you gasp. then the second one, and you were breathing hard, trying to adjust to the sensation.
"breathe through it," he said. "it'll start to feel good in a minute."
he was right. as your body adjusted, the pain transformed into something elseāa deep, throbbing pleasure that made you arch into his touch.
"there you go," he murmured. "now for the fun part."
you felt the vibrator press against your clit, and even on the lowest setting, it was intense. he moved it in slow circles, building you up gradually, and you were already getting close.
"don't come," he said. "i'm going to bring you right to the edge and then stop. over and over. until you're so desperate you can't think straight."
he did exactly that. he'd bring you right to the brink, your whole body tensing, and then he'd pull the vibrator away. you'd whimper and beg, and he'd just laugh and start again.
"please," you sobbed after the fifth time. "please, rafe, i can't take it anymoreā"
"yes, you can. you're doing so well for me." he turned up the vibrator. "just a little more. i want you completely wrecked."
by the time he finally let you come, you were a messācrying, shaking, incoherent. your orgasm was so intense it almost hurt, and you felt like you was going to pass out from the pleasure.
he removed the blindfold and the clamps, and you blinked up at him through tears. he looked satisfied, possessive, and still hungry.
"one more," he said. "i want one more from you."
"i don't think i canā"
"you can." he positioned himself between your legs again. "i'm going to fuck you slow and deep, and you're going to come one more time for me. can you do that?"
you nodded weakly, and he pushed inside you. you were oversensitive, every nerve ending raw, but he was gentle this time, moving with slow, deliberate strokes.
"you're so perfect," he murmured, his hand coming up to cup your face. "so fucking perfect for me. taking everything i give you. letting me use you however i want."
"rafe," you whispered, and there were tears streaming down your face again, but this time from something elseāfrom the intimacy of it, from how completely he owned you in this moment.
"i know," he said softly. "i know, baby. i've got you. just let go. let me take care of you."
your final orgasm built slowly, a deep wave that started in your core and spread through your entire body. when it hit, it was different from the othersāsofter, deeper, more emotional. you clung to him as you came, and he held you through it, whispering praise against your skin.
he came right after, groaning your name, and then he was gathering you into his arms, holding you tight.
"you did so good," he said, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. "so fucking good. i'm so proud of you."
you couldn't speak, could barely think, so you just buried your face in his chest and let him hold you. he stroked your hair, your back, murmuring soft words you couldn't quite make out.
after a while, he carried you to the bathroom and ran a bath, settling you in the warm water before climbing in behind you. he washed you carefully, gently, checking every inch of you for marks or injuries.
"how do you feel?" he asked.
"like i'm floating," you admitted. "like i'm not quite in my body."
"that's normal. it's called subspace. just relax. i've got you."
he held you in the bath until the water started to cool, then dried you off and carried you back to his regular bedroom. he dressed you in one of his t-shirts and tucked you into bed, then climbed in beside you.
"thank you," you whispered.
"for what?"
"for waiting until i was ready. for making it perfect."
he pulled you closer. "you don't have to thank me for that. i'd wait forever if that's what you needed." he was quiet for a moment. "did it live up to your expectations?"
"it exceeded them."
"good." his hand slid possessively over your hip. "because we're doing that again. soon."
you smiled against his chest. "i was hoping you'd say that."
"you're mine," he said, and there was something fierce in his voice. "completely mine. in that room, in this bed, everywhere. you understand that?"
"i understand. and i'm okay with it."
"more than okay, i think." you could hear the smile in his voice. "you loved it. loved being tied up, loved being helpless, loved me taking complete control."
"i did," you admitted. "is that weird?"
"no. it's perfect. you're perfect." he kissed the top of your head. "get some sleep. you're going to be sore tomorrow."
"worth it," you murmured, already drifting off.
the last thing you heard before sleep took you was his voice, soft and possessive: "mine."
the restaurant's ambient lighting had cast everything in a warm, golden glowāthe kind of atmosphere that made three years feel both impossibly long and remarkably short. y/n had watched arch across the table all evening, the way candlelight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened every time they dropped to the neckline of her dress. he'd been sweet during dinner, reminiscent even, talking about their first date and how he'd known within an hour that he was going to fall in love with her.
but now, in the backseat of the uber, sweet arch had evaporated entirely.
his hand was on her thigh, fingers digging in possessively, gripping hard enough that she knew there'd be marks tomorrow. not innocent. never innocent with him. the touch was demanding, a preview, a promise of what he thought was coming.
"you look so fucking good tonight," he murmured, his voice low enough that the driver couldn't hear. his lips brushed against her ear, teeth grazing her earlobe. "been thinking about peeling this dress off you since we sat down for dinner. thinking about bending you over every surface in our apartment."
y/n's heart hammered in her chest, but she kept her expression soft, pliant. she turned her head slightly, letting her lips curve into a small smile. "yeah?"
"yeah." his hand slid higher, pushing under the hem of her dress, fingers trailing up her inner thigh with clear intent. his thumb stroked against the lace of her panties, and she had to bite back a gasp. "gonna wreck you tonight, baby. gonna make you scream my name so loud the neighbors complain again."
oh, arch.
she bit her lip, let her lashes flutter like she was already melting under his touch. like she always did. and she would melt under his touchāusually. arch knew her body like a musician knew their instrument, knew exactly how to make her fall apart, how to reduce her to nothing but need and pleading and his name on her lips.
but tonight?
tonight she had other plans.
her fingers curled against her clutch purse, and she felt the familiar thrill of anticipation spike through her veins. beneath this dressāthe black one that hugged every curve, the one he'd watched her zip up earlier with hungry eyesāshe was wearing the lingerie set she'd bought last week. deep red lace, the kind that left very little to the imagination. the bra pushed her breasts up in a way that would make his mouth water. the panties were barely there, just delicate straps and sheer fabric that she knew would drive him insane.
he has no idea.
the thought made her stomach flip with nervous excitement.
arch's hand squeezed her thigh hard, his fingers pressing against her through the lace, pulling her attention back. "you're quiet," he observed, his tone edging toward playful suspicion. his other hand grabbed her jaw, turning her face toward him. "what are you thinking about?"
"you," she said honestly, and it wasn't a lie. she was thinking about him. about the way he was going to look handcuffed to their bed. about the way his voice was going to crack when he begged her to let him come.
he grinned, cocky and devastating, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "good girl."
the praise sent a shiver through her, and she had to remind herself to stay focused. arch was a switch, even if he didn't always admit it. he loved being dominantāloved the control, the power, the way she surrendered to him. but every once in a while, when she took charge, when she pushed him down and climbed on top of him and made him take it, she could see something shift in his eyes. something desperate and needy and so fucking hot it made her dizzy.
she'd dommed him before. a few times. enough to know he liked it, even if he always protested at first, even if he always tried to wrestle back control.
but tonight was different.
tonight she wasn't just going to take charge. she was going to take everything.
the uber slowed to a stop outside their apartment building, and arch was already moving, pulling her out of the car with an urgency that made her stumble. his hand found the small of her back as they walked through the lobby, then slid lower as they waited for the elevator, grabbing her ass roughly, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly how hard he was.
"arch," she said, glancing around the empty lobby with feigned embarrassment.
"what?" he pulled her closer, his hand sliding up to grip the back of her neck possessively, his lips finding her throat. "no one's here. and even if they were, i don't give a fuck. want everyone to know you're mine."
the elevator dinged, and they stepped inside. the moment the doors closed, he was on her, slamming her back against the mirrored wall hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was all heat and possession and teeth. his hands roamed aggressively, one sliding up to roughly palm her breast through her dress, squeezing hard, the other gripping her hip with bruising force as he ground against her.
y/n kissed him back, let herself get lost in it for a moment. let him think he was setting the pace. his hand slid down, yanking her dress up, his fingers hooking into her panties.
just wait, she thought, her pulse racing. just wait until i get you exactly where i want you.
she'd found the handcuffs three weeks ago, completely by accident. she'd been looking for a phone charger in his nightstandāhers had died and she knew he kept a spare in there somewhere. the top drawer had been a mess of receipts and random cords, so she'd tried the bottom drawer.
and there they were.
black leather cuffs, padded on the inside, with metal clasps that looked sturdy and professional. not the cheap fuzzy kind from a gag gift shop. these were real. these were meant to be used.
her first thought had been a jolt of heatāhe bought these for meāfollowed immediately by understanding. the headboard. he'd been so specific about the headboard when they'd moved in together last year, insisting on one with those decorative metal bars running horizontally near the top. she'd thought it was just an aesthetic choice.
it wasn't.
he'd been planning this. planning to cuff her to that bed, to tie her down and make her helpless while he did whatever he wanted to her body.
the idea had made her wet immediately, she wasn't going to lie. but it had also planted a seed.
what if i used them on him first?
the elevator doors opened on their floor, and arch grabbed her hand, practically dragging her down the hallway. she could feel the energy radiating off him, that dominant confidence that usually made her knees weak. he was already in that headspace, already planning out exactly how he was going to wreck her.
he unlocked their apartment door and pulled her inside, kicking it shut behind them. his hands were on her immediately, sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders, his mouth hot and demanding on her neck.
"arch," she said softly, catching his wrists. "let meā"
"no," he growled, his voice firm and edged with command. he grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head against the wall. "tonight i'm taking care of you, baby. our anniversary. gonna make you come so many times you can't walk tomorrow." his free hand slid down her body possessively. "let daddy make you feel good."
there it was. daddy. he knew that word did things to her, knew how easily she slipped into submission when he used it.
but not tonight.
"i know," she said, her voice sweet and yielding. she stepped back when he released her, just out of his reach, and his eyes tracked her movement with predatory focus. "but i want to do something for you first. please?"
his eyebrow arched, his jaw clenching with barely restrained hunger. "yeah? what did you have in mind?"
she let her fingers trail down her own body, watching his gaze follow the movement. "i want you to lie down. let me... appreciate you."
arch's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. he stepped toward her, backing her up until her legs hit the couch. "you want to worship me a little, baby? that what you're asking?" his hand shot out, gripping her throatānot choking, just holding, just reminding her who was in control. "want to get on your knees for daddy?"
sure. let's call it that.
"yes," she said, and she let her voice dip into that breathy, submissive tone he loved. "please, daddy. i want to make you feel good."
she could see him considering it, see the war between his desire to dominate and his enjoyment of being desired. finally, he nodded, that cocky smile still in place. he released her throat, his thumb dragging across her bottom lip.
"alright, baby. but then it's my turn, and i'm not going to be gentle."
"i wouldn't want you to be," she said, and that part was true.
they moved to the bedroom, and y/n's heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. the room was dimly lit by the lamp on her nightstand, casting everything in soft shadows. the bedātheir bed, with that very specific headboardāsat waiting.
arch pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the lean muscle of his torso, and y/n felt her mouth go dry despite herself. three years and he still made her feel like a teenager with a crush.
he sat on the edge of the bed, then reclined back against the pillows, his arms folding behind his head. the picture of casual dominance. his eyes raked over her body with clear hunger. "alright, baby. show me what you've got. and make it goodāyou're gonna pay for making me wait."
y/n moved slowly, deliberately. she reached behind her back and found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. arch's eyes were locked on her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
the dress pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it.
"fuck," arch breathed, and she watched his entire body tense with want.
the lingerie set looked even better than she'd imagined. the red lace contrasted beautifully against her skin, and she could see the exact moment arch's patience snapped. his hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white.
"you like it?" she asked, and she let herself feel the confidence that question deserved. she looked fucking good and she knew it.
"get the fuck over here," he growled, sitting up. his voice had dropped an octave, pure command. "right now, y/n. i'm done waiting."
"in a minute," she said, moving to her dresser, her heart hammering. she could feel the predatory energy radiating off him.
"no. now." she heard him stand, heard his belt buckle jingle as he started toward her.
she turned quickly, pulling open the top drawerāthe one where she'd hidden the handcuffs after finding them. her fingers closed around the leather, and she spun to face him, holding them up.
arch stopped dead, his eyes going wide, then narrowing dangerously.
"where did youā"
"your nightstand," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "i was looking for a charger."
for a long moment, he just stared at her. then his jaw clenched, and she saw something shift in his expressionārecognition, calculation, and then refusal.
"those are for you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. he took a step toward her. "and that's exactly how they're going to be used."
"i thought maybe tonight we could switch things up," she said, backing toward the bed.
"no." another step. he was stalking her now, and fuck, the look in his eyes made her knees weak. "i don't think so, baby. nice try, though."
"archā"
"you want to play games?" he was right in front of her now, his hand shooting out to grip her hip, fingers digging in possessively. "fine. but you're going to lose."
his other hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as his mouth crashed against hers. the kiss was brutal, claiming, his tongue invading her mouth as he walked her backward toward the bed. she felt the mattress hit the back of her knees.
no. not like this. not tonight.
y/n twisted in his grip, using his momentum against him. she shoved hard at his chest, and he stumbled back a step, surprised.
"what the fuckā"
she didn't give him time to recover. she launched herself at him, and they went down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. arch immediately tried to roll them, to pin her beneath him like he always did, but she fought back. she got her knee between them, leveraged her weight, kept him off balance.
"y/n, stopā" he grabbed her wrists, trying to control her, but she wrenched one free.
"no," she gasped, grappling with him. "my turn."
"like hellā" he flipped them, getting on top of her, pinning her hips with his thighs. his hands caught both of hers, slamming them down on either side of her head. he was breathing hard, his eyes wild. "you really think you can overpower me, baby?"
she could feel how hard he was, pressed against her through his pants. could see the arousal mixing with the dominance in his eyes. he liked this. he was fighting her, but he liked this.
"i don't have to overpower you," she panted. she arched up against him, rolling her hips, and felt his grip falter for just a second as pleasure shot through him.
that second was all she needed.
she twisted hard, using a move she'd learned in a self-defense class years ago, and suddenly she was on top, straddling him. before he could react, she grabbed one of his wrists and yanked it up toward the headboard.
"what theāy/nā" he tried to buck her off, his free hand grabbing at her thigh, her hip, trying to flip them again.
she caught his other wrist, her heart pounding, adrenaline singing through her veins. they struggled, his muscles straining against her grip, and for a moment she thought she'd lose. he was stronger than her, always had been.
but she was determined. and she had surprise on her side.
she threw her weight forward, using gravity and momentum, and managed to get both his wrists above his head. the handcuffs were still clutched in one of her hands, the metal digging into her palm.
"y/n, don't you fucking dareā"
she snapped one cuff around his right wrist.
"fuckā" he yanked hard, trying to pull free, but she'd already looped the chain through the metal bar of the headboard. she was faster than him now, riding the wave of her victory, and she caught his left wrist even as he tried to grab at her with it.
the second cuff clicked shut.
they both froze, breathing hard.
arch pulled at the restraints, the metal clinking against the headboard. once, twice, hard enough that she worried for a second he might actually break them. but they held.
"y/n." his voice was dangerous, commanding even now. "uncuff me. right now."
she sat back on his thighs, her chest heaving, and just looked at him. arch, her arch, handcuffed to their bed. his hair was messed up from their struggle, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and arousal and something elseāsomething that looked almost like excitement.
"no," she said softly.
his jaw clenched. "y/n, i'm not fucking around. let me go."
"i know you're not." she reached over to her nightstand, pulling out the blindfold she'd tucked in the drawer earlier. "but neither am i."
his eyes widened when he saw the black silk. "don'tā"
she leaned forward, and he tried to turn his head away, but she was faster. she tied the blindfold over his eyes, her fingers trembling slightly as she knotted it at the back of his head.
"y/n, i swear to godā"
"shh," she whispered, and she heard his breath catch at the sudden darkness.
she climbed off him, standing at the foot of the bed, just watching. his chest was heaving, his hands flexing in the cuffs, testing them again. the bulge in his pants was obscene, straining against the fabric.
he was furious. he was turned on. he was helpless.
perfect.
"y/n, stop playing games baby," he said, and even now, even handcuffed and blindfolded, there was that cocky edge to his voice, that attempt to reassert dominance. "let daddy take care of you."
she didn't respond. just stood there, letting the silence stretch.
"y/n?" he asked, and now there was a hint of panic creeping into his voice. "are you still here?"
oh, this was going to be fun.
she moved silently, carefully placing one knee on the bed, then the other. the mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and she saw arch's whole body tense.
she crawled over him slowly, deliberately, until she was straddling his hips. then she lowered herself down, pressing her lace-covered pussy against the hard length of him through his pants.
"oh fuck," arch gasped, his hips jerking up involuntarily.
"i'm still here, baby," y/n said sweetly, and she felt a surge of power at the way he shuddered beneath her.
this was going to be a very good anniversary indeed.Ā Ā
she rolled her hips against him, slow and deliberate, and watched his jaw clench. even blindfolded, even restrained, he was so fucking beautiful. his bare chest rose and fell rapidly, muscles taut with tension, and she could see the war playing out across his faceāarousal fighting with frustration, need battling against his desire to control.
"you feel that?" she asked softly, grinding down harder. the friction sent sparks of pleasure through her own body. "you feel how hard you are?"
"y/nā" his voice was strained. "baby, come on. uncuff me. let me touch you properly."
"no," she said simply, and she felt him twitch beneath her at the word.
she leaned forward, her hands running over his bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. his muscles jumped under her touch.
"fuck," he breathed.Ā
she climbed off him, and he made a frustrated sound low in his throat. she could see him pulling at the cuffs again, testing them, but they held firm.
good.
she could see the full extent of how hard he was now, straining against his boxers. "just relax."
"relax?" his laugh was sharp, almost bitter. "you've got me handcuffed to our fucking bed and you want me to relax?"
"yes," she said calmly, hooking her fingers into his waistband. "lift your hips."
for a moment, she thought he might refuse. thought he might dig in his heels and make this difficult just on principle. but then, slowly, he lifted his hips, and she pulled his boxers off, freeing him completely. he was blindfolded and cuffed and so hard she could see the wet spot forming on the fabric.
his cock sprang up, hard and flushed and leaking, and y/n felt her mouth water. she wrapped her hand around him, stroking once from base to tip, and arch's whole body went rigid.
god, he's perfect like this.
she climbed back onto the bed, straddling his thighs this time, lower than before. her fingers tracing lines on his torso, and she felt him suck in a sharp breath.
"you're so hard," she observed, now running one finger along the length of him. he jerked at the touch, his hips lifting involuntarily. "is this turning you on, arch? being tied up? being helpless?"
"no," he said immediately, but his voice was too rough, too desperate. "i justāfuckāi just want you. always want you."
"liar," she said softly.
"fuckāy/nāpleaseā"
"please what?" she stroked him again, slow and firm, her thumb swiping over the head. he was so wet already, precum beading at the tip.
"pleaseā" he pulled hard at the cuffs, the metal rattling against the headboard. "please let me touch you. please, baby, i'm going crazy here. i needāi need to feel youā"
she released him, and he made a sound of pure frustration.
"you want to feel me?" she asked, and she could hear the power in her own voice now, the confidence. this was working. this was really working.
"yes," he gasped. "yes, fuck, pleaseā"
she moved up his body, straddling his hips again, and this time when she ground down against him, there was nothing between them but the thin lace of her panties. she was soaked, she knew he could feel it, and the way his mouth fell open confirmed it.
"oh fuck," he breathed. "babyāyou're so wetā"
"i know," she said, rolling her hips. the friction was incredible, his bare cock sliding against her through the lace, and she had to bite back a moan. "you feel that? you feel what you do to me?"
"then let meā" he thrust up against her, desperate and needy. "let me inside you, please, i needā"
"not yet," she said, and she reached down, guiding his cock so it pressed directly against her clit through the fabric. the pressure made her gasp, made her hips stutter, and she saw arch's jaw clench at the sound.
"you're killing me," he groaned. "y/n, please, i'm begging youā"
"i know you are," she said, and god, the rush of power that gave her was intoxicating. arch never begged. never. but here he was, handcuffed and blindfolded and begging her to let him go, to let him touch her, to let him fuck her.
and she was saying no.
she leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head, and immediately felt his body surge up toward her. his mouth found her collarbone, her throat, kissing and sucking desperately, trying to mark her, trying to claim some kind of control.
"that's it," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough. "come here, baby. let me taste you. let meā"
his mouth found the swell of her breast above the lace of her bra, and he sucked hard, his teeth grazing her skin. y/n gasped, her hips jerking against him involuntarily.
"fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his mouth moving frantically, trying to get more of her. "let meāneed moreāneed toā"
she pulled back, just out of reach, and he made a sound of pure frustration.
"y/n, pleaseā"
"you want to taste me?" she asked, breathless.
"yes," he said desperately. "yes, fuck, please, let meāi'll make you come so hard, baby, just let meā"
she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall away. arch's whole body went still.
"y/nā"
she leaned forward again, and this time she guided her breast directly to his mouth. he latched on immediately, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around her nipple, and the sensation shot straight to her core.
"fuck," she gasped, her hand tangling in his hair. he was moaning against her skin, desperate and hungry, and she could feel how badly he wanted to use his hands, to grab her, to hold her in place while he devoured her.
but he couldn't.
she was in control.
she pulled back again, and he actually whimpered at the loss.
"noādon'tācome backā"
"say please," she said, and she heard how breathless her own voice was.
"please," he said immediately. "please, baby, please let meāi needā"
she gave him her other breast, and he sucked even harder this time, his teeth scraping against her nipple in a way that made her cry out. his hips were thrusting up against her now, seeking friction, seeking relief, and she could feel how close he was to losing it completely.
god, this is incredible.
she'd never felt power like this before. never felt this kind of control. arch was always the one in charge, always the one calling the shots, and she loved that about him. loved surrendering to him, loved letting him take her apart.
but this?
this was something else entirely.
she pulled back again, sitting up, and arch's head fell back against the pillow with a groan of frustration.
"y/n, please, i can'tāi needā" he pulled at the cuffs again, hard enough that she worried for a second he might hurt himself. "let me go. please. i'll do anything. i'll make you come as many times as you want, i'llāi'll let you ride my face, i'llāfuckājust please let me touch youā"
"no," she said, and she reached down, wrapping her hand around his cock again. he was so hard it had to hurt, precum dripping down the shaft, and when she stroked him once, his whole body convulsed.
"fuckādon'tāif you do that i'm gonnaā"
she released him immediately, and he made a sound that was half-sob, half-growl.
"you're evil," he gasped. "you're fucking evil, you know that?"
"maybe," she said, and she couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. "but you love it."
"i don'tā" but his protest died in his throat, because they both knew it was a lie. his cock was still rock-hard, still leaking, and his chest was heaving like he'd run a marathon.
he loved this.
he just didn't want to admit it yet.
y/n climbed off him, standing beside the bed, and she heard him make a desperate sound.
"where are you going?"
"nowhere," she said, hooking her thumbs into her panties. "just getting more comfortable."
she slid them down her legs, stepping out of them, and she saw arch's hands clench into fists in the cuffs.
"y/nā"
"i'm right here," she said, climbing back onto the bed. she straddled his hips again, and this time when she settled against him, there was nothing between them at all. just her bare, soaking pussy pressed against his cock.
"oh my god," arch breathed, and his hips jerked up so hard he nearly bucked her off. "oh fuckābabyāpleaseā"
she reached down, guiding him so his cock slid between her folds, coating him in her wetness. the head of him bumped against her clit and they both gasped.
"you feel that?" she asked, rolling her hips slowly. "you feel how wet i am? how much i want this?"
"then take it," he begged, his voice breaking. "please, baby, justājust sit on itāi need to be inside youāi needā"
"i know what you need," she said, and she lifted up slightly, positioning him at her entrance. she could feel him trembling beneath her, could feel how badly he wanted to thrust up, to bury himself inside her.
but she didn't sink down.
she just held him there, right at the edge, and watched him fall apart.
"y/nā" his voice was wrecked now, desperate and pleading. "pleaseā"
"not yet," she whispered, and she lifted away completely.
the sound he made was inhuman.Ā Ā
she moved up his body, her knees bracketing his shoulders, and she felt him go completely still beneath her.
"y/nā" his voice was uncertain now, questioning. "what are youā"
"open your mouth," she said softly.
for a moment, he didn't move. she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, could see the way his jaw clenched. then, slowly, his lips parted.
"good boy," she whispered, and she lowered herself onto his face.
the first touch of his tongue made her gasp. he didn't hesitateāthe moment he tasted her, he groaned against her pussy, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body. his tongue was everywhere at once, licking and sucking and devouring her like a man starving.
"fuck," she breathed, her hands gripping the headboard for balance. "god, you're so eager for it, aren't you?"
he moaned in response, his tongue flicking over her clit, and she felt her thighs tremble. she could feel him pulling at the cuffs, could hear the metal rattling as he tried desperately to touch her, to grab her hips and hold her down against his mouth.
but he couldn't.
she was in control of everythingāthe pressure, the angle, the pace. when he got too aggressive, too demanding with his tongue, she lifted up slightly, making him chase her. when he whimpered in frustration, she rewarded him by grinding down harder.
"that's it," she gasped, rolling her hips against his face. "just like thatāoh godā"
his tongue circled her clit, then dipped lower, fucking into her, and she felt her whole body tighten with pleasure. she could feel his desperation in every movement, could feel how badly he wanted to flip this, to take control, to pin her down and make her scream.
but he couldn't do any of that.
all he could do was lie there and let her use his mouth however she wanted.
she rode his face until her thighs were shaking, until she was gasping and trembling and so close to the edge she could taste it. but she didn't let herself come. not yet. she wanted to draw this out, wanted to make him wait, wanted to feel him inside her when she finally let go.
she lifted off his face, and the sound he made was almost a sob.
"noā" his voice was wrecked, his lips wet and swollen. "baby, pleaseādon't stopā"
"i'm not stopping," she said, moving back down his body. "i'm just getting started."
she straddled his hips again, and this time when she positioned him at her entrance, she didn't tease. she sank down in one smooth motion, taking him all the way to the base.
"fuckā" arch's whole body arched off the bed, his head thrown back, the cords in his neck standing out. "oh my godāy/nā"
she didn't move. she just sat there, feeling him pulse inside her, feeling how deep he was, how perfectly he filled her. his chest was heaving, sweat already beading on his skin, and she could see him fighting for control.
"you feel so good," she whispered, and she reached up, finding the knot of the blindfold. "i want you to watch me now."
she pulled the fabric away, and arch's eyes flew open.
for a moment, he just stared at her, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted. she could see the exact moment it hit himāthe reality of what was happening, the sight of her sitting on top of him, naked and flushed and in complete control.
"fuck," he breathed. "y/nā"
she started to move.
slow at first, rolling her hips in a steady rhythm that had them both gasping. she braced her hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath her palms, and she watched his face as she rode him.
he looked wrecked. completely undone. his eyes were locked on her, tracking every movementāthe way her breasts bounced with each roll of her hips, the way her head fell back when he hit that perfect spot inside her, the way her thighs flexed as she lifted and sank back down.
"you like watching?" she asked, her voice breathy. "you like seeing me ride your cock?"
"yesā" the word came out strangled. "fuck, yesāyou look so fucking goodā"
she picked up the pace, bouncing on him now, and she felt sweat starting to bead on her own skin. the room was hot, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat, and she could feel moisture gathering between their bodies where they were joined.
arch tried to thrust up to meet her, tried to take some control back, but she pressed down harder, pinning his hips to the mattress.
"no," she said firmly. "i'm in charge. you just lie there and take it."
he made a desperate sound, his hands clenching into fists in the cuffs. "babyāpleaseāi needā"
"i know what you need," she said, and she changed the angle, grinding down so her clit rubbed against him with every movement. the friction was perfect, sending waves of pleasure through her body. "oh godā"
she could feel sweat running down her spine now, could feel it beading on her forehead, between her breasts. arch was slick with it too, his chest glistening in the low light, and when she leaned forward to brace herself better, their bodies slid together.
"you're so fucking beautiful," arch gasped, his eyes never leaving her face. "god, y/nāyou're so beautiful like thisā"
she rode him harder, faster, chasing the pleasure building in her core. her thighs were burning, her whole body trembling with exertion, but she didn't stop. she could feel him getting close, could feel the way his cock was pulsing inside her, the way his breathing was getting more ragged.
"don't you dare come," she warned, slowing down just enough to make him whimper. "not until i say you can."
"fuckā" his voice broke. "y/n, pleaseāi can'tāi'm so closeā"
"hold it," she commanded, and she started moving again, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles that had them both gasping. "you can hold it for me. i know you can."
she could see the strain on his face, could see how hard he was fighting it. his whole body was taut, muscles rigid with tension, sweat dripping down his temples. he looked desperate and beautiful and completely at her mercy.
mine. he's mine.
she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest, and she kissed himādeep and demanding, swallowing his moans. when she pulled back, his lips were swollen and wet, his eyes glazed with need.
"please," he whispered. "please, babyāi need to comeāi needā"
"not yet," she said, sitting back up. she braced her hands on his chest again and started riding him in earnestāhard, fast, taking exactly what she needed. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with their gasps and moans, and she felt her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly.
"oh godā" her rhythm faltered, her thighs shaking. "archā"
"come for me," he begged, his voice raw. "please, babyālet me feel you comeā"
she felt her orgasm coiling tighter, right on the edge, pleasure building so intensely she could barely breathe.
"pleaseā" arch's voice broke beneath her, desperate and wrecked. "can i comeāpleaseāi can't hold itā"
"yesā" she gasped, and the word came out just as her orgasm crashed over her. "nowācome with meāoh godā"
they came together.
her pussy clenched around him as pleasure exploded through her body, and she felt him pulse inside her at the exact same moment, felt the warmth of him filling her as his whole body went rigid beneath her. she cried out, and his shout mixed with hersāboth of them lost in it, their bodies trembling and shaking together.
his eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open, and the sound he made was almost a sob. she could feel every pulse, every aftershock, their orgasms feeding off each other until she couldn't tell where hers ended and his began.
she collapsed forward onto his chest, both of them gasping for air, their bodies slick with sweat and trembling with aftershocks. she could feel his heart hammering against her cheek, could feel him still twitching inside her.
for a long moment, neither of them moved. they just lay there, breathing hard, coming down from the high.
then arch's voice, rough and quiet: "uncuff me. please."
she lifted her head to look at him. his eyes were soft now, vulnerable in a way she'd never seen before. not demanding. not commanding.
just asking.
she reached up and unlocked the cuffs.
the second the cuffs fell away, everything changed. arch movedāfast, decisive, all that pent-up dominance flooding back into him. he flipped her onto her back before she could even process what was happening, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while his body pressed her into the mattress.Ā
his eyes were dark, hungry, and not done. "your turn," he growled, reaching for the cuffs with his free hand, and she realized with a jolt of heat that he was still hard inside her.Ā
he snapped the leather around her wrist, then the other, securing them to the headboard with a precision that made her breath catch.Ā
he pulled back just enough to look down at herācompletely at his mercy now, spread out beneath himāand a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
author's note: thank you @lanainterlude for all the help in writing this. you are sweet and im so excited to share! thank you a million again! let me know if you ever want to get a sneak peek lmk!
description: arch wants you to know that its you and him for life.
warnings āļøą¾ą½² ā® nsfw. minors do not interact !! fem!reader. established relationship (emotionally). slow burn. forbidden relationship. possessive dynamics. emotional angst. strong language. kissing. sexual tension. explicit sexual content. fingering. penetrative sex. dirty talk. porn with a lot of plot.
āāāāāāāā
havenāt read chapter one? read it here || MASTERLIST
three weeks of me in her bed, in her kitchen, on her couch, in her shower. three weeks of pretending like the past didn't exist, like we could just pick up where we left off without addressing the giant elephant in the roomāthe one that had been sitting there since the day she walked away from me in college.
it was early. too early. the kind of early where the sun hadn't fully committed to rising yet, just painting the sky in soft purples and pinks outside her floor-to-ceiling windows. moose was sprawled at the foot of the bed, snoring softly. my arm was draped over her waist, my chest pressed against her back, my breath warm on her neck.
she'd been awake for at least twenty minutes, staring at the city skyline, and i could feel itāthat restless energy that meant she was thinking too hard about something.
"you're thinking too loud," i mumbled against her shoulder, my voice thick with sleep.
she smiled. i couldn't see it, but i felt it in the way her body relaxed slightly. "go back to sleep."
"can't. not when i can feel you spiraling." i tightened my arm around her, pulling her closer. "talk to me."
"it's nothing."
"y/n." my voice was firmer now, more awake. i shifted, propping myself up on one elbow so i could look at her. "no. no. don't do that. don't shut me out."
she turned onto her back, meeting my eyes. they were guarded, uncertain. but god, i'd missed those eyes.
"we haven't talked about itā¦," she said quietly.
"about what?"
"arch." she gave me a look. "you know what."
i was quiet for a moment, my jaw tightening. then i nodded, sitting up fully and running a hand through my messy hair. "yeah. i know."
she sat up too, pulling her knees to her chest, suddenly looking small even though she was wearing my old texas shirt. the one i'd left here weeks ago.
"why did you leave?" i asked, my voice barely above a whisper. i was afraid of the answer.
she took a breath. "because my mom convinced me that i couldn't keep up."
"with what?" my eyes now searching for the answers i knew i didnāt want.Ā
"with you. with your life. withā" she gestured vaguely, "āall of it. the pressure, the expectations, the cameras, the people who had opinions about us, about me. your family, your future, the fucking manning legacy." she laughed bitterly. "i was just some girl from a low income, immigrant family trying to figure out how to exist in your world, and i thought maybe couldn't do it, arch. and when i thought about it i felt like i was drowning."
my face fell. "babyā"
"and you were so good at it," she continued, the words spilling out now. "you handled everything so perfectly. the media, the pressure, the fans. and i was justā¦ there. trying not to fuck it up for you."
"you never fucked anything up for me," i said firmly, reaching for her hand. she let me take it. "never. not once."
"for the first time in my life i felt like i knew i wasn't enough," she admitted, her voice cracking. "like i'd never be enough for that life. for your life."
i was quiet for a long moment, my thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. when i finally spoke, my voice was raw. "i should've seen it. i should'veāfuck, y/n, i should've paid more attention. i was so focused on football, on making it, on proving myself, that i didn't realize i was losing you."
she looked at me, surprised by the vulnerability in my voice.
"i thought if i just kept going, kept working, kept winning, everything else would fall into place," i continued. "but it didn't. you left. and i didn't blame you. i was pissed at myself for not fighting harder, for not making you feel like you were the most important thing. because you were. you are."
her chest tightened. "arch no thatās notā"
"i'm serious." i shifted closer, cupping her face with both hands. "i don't give a fuck about any of that other shit if youāre not with me. the fame, the money, the legacyāit doesn't mean anything."
"but it's your life," she said softly. "it's who you are."
"no. football is what i do. you are who i am." my eyes trying to convince her, and i could see it breaking something in her. "i've spent two years trying to fill the space you left, and nothing worked. no one else was you. no one else made me feel like i was home."
i watched the tears slip down her cheeks. "i was scared. i'm still scared."
"of what?"
"of not being enough. of you looking at me like i'm just some phase. of people thinking i'm only with you for the money or the status. of losing myself trying to be someone i'm not."
i wiped her tears with my thumbs, my touch gentle. "then don't be someone you're not. be you. that's all i've ever wanted. and me?ā" i paused, a small smile tugging at my lips, "āi fucking love you. i always have."
she laughed through her tears. "really?"
"really. and anyone who has a problem with you can fuck off. i mean it, y/n. i'm not losing you again."
she leaned into me, resting her forehead against mine. "i don't want to lose you either."
i kissed herāsoft, slow, like a promise.
when we pulled away, i felt lighter. like something that had been sitting on my chest for two years had finally lifted. but i could still see that small voice in the back of her mind, whispering doubts, reminding her that my world was still big and hers was still small.
and i wasn't sure if she believed love was enough to bridge that gap.
but for now, in this moment, with my arms around her and the sunrise spilling into her room, i let myself believe it could be.
āāāā
two weeks later, she was in the middle of reviewing game day logistics when i walked into her office unannounced, that familiar grin plastered across my face.
"you know, most people knock," she said, not looking up from her laptop.
"most people aren't dating the vp of operations," i shot back, closing the door behind me and flipping the privacy screen on without asking.
she raised an eyebrow. "bold of you to assume you can justā"
"i want to have dinner with our families," i interrupted, sitting on the edge of her desk.
she froze, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "what?"
"dinner. your family, my family. together." i said it casually, like i was suggesting takeout.
"archā"
"i've been thinking about it for a while," i continued, leaning forward. "i want them to see us. together. i want them to know this is real."
her stomach twisted. i could see it in her face. "i don't know if that's a good idea."
"why not?"
"becauseā" she gestured vaguely, searching for words. "because your family is the mannings. football royalty. and my family is... normal. my mom still clips coupons, arch. my dad drives a 2008 camry."
i reached for her hand, pulling her up from her chair and between my legs. "baby, i don't care about any of that. i want the people i love to meet. that's it."
"your mom is gonna think i'mā"
"my mom already loves you," i said firmly. "she told me last week she's been hoping we'd get back together. and even if she didn't, it wouldn't matter. you're who i want. not her, not my dad, not anyone else. you."
she bit her lip, anxiety crawling up her throat. "what if it's awkward?"
"then it's awkward." i shrugged. "but i'm not hiding you. i'm not keeping this separate. i want everyone to know you're mine."
the possessiveness in my voice made her chest tighten in that familiar way. she sighed, resting her forehead against mine. "you're really not gonna let this go, are you?"
"nope." i kissed her softly. "friday night. i already made reservations."
"arch!"
"what? i was confident you'd say yes." i grinned, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"you're insane."
"and you love me for it."
she did. god help her, she really did.
āāāā
friday came faster than she wanted it to.
i'd picked some upscale steakhouse downtownāthe kind of place with cloth napkins and a wine list thicker than a playbook. she'd changed outfits three times before settling on a simple black dress, something elegant but not trying too hard.
i'd picked her up early, sensing her nerves. "you look beautiful," i'd said, kissing her temple as she climbed into my truck.
"i feel like i'm gonna throw up."
"you're not gonna throw up."
"you don't know that."
i'd laughed, squeezing her thigh. "it's gonna be fine. i promise."
now, sitting at a long table in a private dining room, she wasn't so sure.
my parents arrived first, and the moment may and my mom saw her, their faces lit up. "oh my god, y/n!" may rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug before she could even stand properly. "i've missed you so much, sweetheart."
"i missed you too," she said, and she meant it. may had always been warm to her, treating her like family even when we were just dating in college.
my dad and heid right behind her, his smile genuine as he pulled her in for a hug too. "good to see you, y/n. been too long sweetheart."
"way too long," my mom agreed, squeezing her hand. "arch has been talking about you nonstop. i swear, i thought he was gonna lose his mind when he found out you were in houston."
she laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "he's dramatic."
"hey," i protested from beside her, but i was grinning.
"it's true," may teased, sitting down across from her. "but we're just so happy you two are back together. you're good for him, y/n. you always have been." my mom joked.
her chest warmed at their words, but before she could respond, her family walked in.
her mom, dad, and brother, all looked... stiff. not uncomfortable exactly, but aware. her mom's smile was polite, her posture a little too straight. her dad shook my dad's hand firmly but didn't quite meet his eyes. her brother hung back, hands in his pockets, taking everything in with a quiet wariness.
"mr. and mrs. manning, it's so nice to meet you," her mom said, her voice a little too formal.
"please, call me ellen," my mom said warmly, standing to greet them. "and this is cooper. we're so glad you could join us."
"thank you for having us," her dad said, glancing around the room like he was calculating how much everything cost.
she caught her brother's eye, and he gave her a lookāthe kind that said this is a lot without saying anything at all.
dinner started off okay. my mom and dad carried most of the conversation, asking her parents about their jobs, about her brother's plans after college, about how they were liking houston. they were effortlessly charming, the kind of people who made everyone feel at ease.
but her family... they were trying. i could see it. her mom laughed at my dad's jokes, but it was a beat too late. her dad nodded along but didn't offer much. her brother mostly stayed quiet, answering when spoken to but not engaging beyond that.
and i felt itāthe gap. the difference. the weight of knowing our worlds didn't quite fit together.
"so, y/n," my mom said, smiling at her from across the table. "arch tells us you've been doing amazing at work. vp of operationsāthat's incredible."
"thank you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "it's been a lot, but i love it."
"she's being modest," i interjected, my hand finding hers under the table. "she's the best thing that's happened to that organization."
i felt her cheeks heat up as my dad chuckled. "sounds like someone's a little biased."
"maybe," i grinned. "but i'm not wrong."
her mom smiled softly, but there was something in her eyesāsomething i recognized. concern, maybe. or worry.
dinner went on, courses coming and going, conversation flowing in fits and starts. my parents were doing their best to make everyone comfortable, but i could feel her family's guardedness, the way they held themselves back.
until dessert.
her mom set down her fork, glancing at her with that lookāthe one that meant she had something to say and wasn't sure how to say it.
"you know," she started, her voice gentle, "this has all been so lovely. the restaurant, the dinner, everything." she paused, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "it's just... a lot. this kind of lifestyle, i mean. we're not really used to all this." she looked at her daughter, and there was something protective in her gaze. "i just wonder if y/n is ready for all of this. she's still finding her way, you know? still figuring out who she is. and this worldā" she gestured vaguely, "āit's so different from what we know."
the table went quiet.
i felt her chest tighten, heat flooding her face. her mom didn't mean it cruellyāi knew that. but it stung. because it was exactly what she'd been afraid of. the reminder that she didn't belong here, that she was out of her depth, that she was just ordinary.
before she could respond, my hand tightened around hers.
"with all due respect, mrs. y/l/n," i said, my voice calm but firm, "i don't think y/n is losing herself. she's exactly who she's always been, and that's why i love her." i looked at her mom, my gaze steady. "i know this world can seem like a lot. and i know my family comes with... expectations. but y/n isn't here because of any of that. she's here because i can't imagine my life without her. and i'm not going anywhere."
her mom blinked, clearly taken aback.
"i'm very committed to your daughter," i continued. "completely. and i'm gonna spend every day making sure she knows she's enough. more than enough. she doesn't need to be ready for my world. my world needs to be ready for her."
my mom's eyes softened, and she reached over to squeeze her other hand. "he's right," she said gently. "y/n, you've always been family to us. that hasn't changed."
my dad nodded. "we're just glad to have you back."
her dad cleared his throat, and when she looked at him, his eyes were a little glassy. "that's... that's good to hear," he said quietly.
her mom's expression shiftedāsomething between surprise and relief. she reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "i'm glad," she said softly. "i just worry, you know. i'm her mom."
"i know," i said, my voice gentler now. "and i'm gonna take care of her. i promise."
she couldn't speak. her throat was too tight, her eyes burning with unshed tears. under the table, my thumb traced slow circles on her hand, grounding her.
the rest of dinner passed in a blur. more conversation, more laughter, but she was somewhere else entirelyāstuck in the space between gratitude and overwhelm.
āāāā
by the time we left the restaurant, she felt like she'd run a marathon. my hand stayed on the small of her back as i walked her to my truck, my parents and hers saying their goodbyes in the parking lot.
once she was inside, the door closed, the silence hit her like a wave.
"hey," i said softly, turning to face her. "you okay?"
she nodded, but the tears came anywayāquiet, exhausting tears that she'd been holding in all night.
"babyā" i pulled her into my chest, my arms wrapping around her tightly. "talk to me."
"i'm fine," she managed. "i justāthat was a lot."
"i know." i kissed the top of her head. "but you did so good. and i meant what i said in there. every word."
she pulled back, looking up at me. "you didn't have to do that."
"yes, i did." my jaw tightened. "i'm not gonna let anyoneāeven your momāmake you feel like you're not enough. because you are. you're everything."
she kissed me then, desperate and grateful and overwhelmed all at once.
and when she pulled away, my forehead resting against hers, she whispered, "i love you."
"i love you too," i said. "now let's go home."
āāāā
the drive home was quiet. not uncomfortableājust heavy. i kept one hand on her thigh the entire time, my thumb tracing slow circles like i was grounding both of us.
she stared out the window, replaying the night in her head. the way my family had welcomed her back so easily. the way her mom had looked at her across the table. the way i had looked at her mom when i said i wasn't going anywhere.
by the time i pulled into the driveway, her chest felt full. not tightājust full. like everything she'd been holding onto for weeks was finally settling into place.
inside, she kicked off her heels by the door and headed toward the kitchen, needing water, needing something to do with her hands. but before she could reach the counter, i caught her wrist, turning her around.
"hey," i said softly, my eyes searching hers. "you've been quiet."
"i'm just thinking," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"about?"
she looked up at me, and god, the way i was looking at herālike she was the only thing in the world that mattered. "about what you said tonight. to my mom."
my jaw tightened slightly. "i meant it."
"i know." she stepped closer, her hands sliding up my chest. "that's what i'm thinking about."
my breath hitched, my hands finding her waist. "yeah?"
"yeah." she kissed me softly, her lips brushing mine. "thank you. for tonight. for showing up like that."
"babyā" my voice was rough. "you don't have to thank me."
"i want to," she whispered, and then she kissed me again, harder this time.
i groaned into her mouth, my hands tightening on her waist as i pulled her flush against me. she could feel me already getting hard against her hip, and it sent heat pooling low in her stomach.
"fuck," i breathed against her lips. "you have no idea what you do to me."
"show me," she said, and the way my eyes darkened made her stomach flip.
i kissed her again, deeper, hungrier, my tongue sliding against hers as my hands roamed her body. one hand slid up her back, finding the zipper of her dress, and i pulled it down slowly, deliberately, my knuckles brushing her spine.
"you looked so fucking beautiful tonight," i murmured against her lips, my hands sliding the dress off her shoulders. "couldn't stop thinking about getting you home. getting you out of this."
the dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her bra and panties, and the way i looked at herālike i was starvingāmade her shiver.
"archā" her breath caught as my hands slid up her thighs.
"i love you so much," i said, my voice rough with emotion. "you know that, right?"
"i know," she whispered. "i love you too."
i kissed her again, my hands sliding down to grip her ass as i lifted her onto the counter. she gasped, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively, and i stepped between them, pressing myself against her.
"need you," i murmured, my lips trailing down her neck. "need you so fucking bad."
"then take me," she breathed, her hands sliding into my hair.
i groaned, my teeth grazing her collarbone as my hands slid up her thighs, pushing them wider. my fingers traced the edge of her panties, teasing, and she whimpered.
"please," she gasped.
"please what?" my voice was low, teasing, but she could hear the desperation in it too.
"touch me," she begged. "please, arch."
i hooked my fingers in her panties and pulled them down slowly, my eyes locked on hers the entire time. when they hit the floor, i spread her legs wider, my hands gripping her thighs as i looked at her.
"fuck," i breathed. "you're so perfect."
"archā" she was already trembling, and i hadn't even touched her yet.
i leaned in, kissing her deeply as my hand finally slid between her legs. when my fingers touched her, she moaned into my mouth.
"fuck, baby," i groaned. "you're so wet. this all for me?"
"yes," she gasped. "all for you."
i worked her slowly, my fingers circling her clit in lazy, torturous circles before sliding lower, teasing her entrance. when i finally pushed one finger inside her, she cried out.
"that's it," i murmured against her lips. "let me hear you."
i added another finger, stretching her, and the sensation made her head fall back. i took the opportunity to kiss down her neck, my teeth grazing her skin as my fingers worked her.
"arch, pleaseā" she was already trembling, her hands fisting in my shirt. "i need more."
"more?" my voice was teasing, but my fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars.
"fuckāyesā" she gasped, her hips rolling against my hand.
"you want my cock, baby?" i murmured, my lips brushing her ear. "want me to fuck you right here?"
"yes," she begged. "please, yes."
i pulled my hand away, and she whined at the loss. but then i was unbuckling my belt, my eyes never leaving hers as i shoved my pants and boxers down just enough to free myself.
she reached for me, wrapping her hand around my length, and i groaned, my hips jerking forward.
"fuck," i breathed. "baby, if you keep doing that, this is gonna be over way too fast."
"i don't care," she said, stroking me slowly. "i just need you."
i kissed her hard, my hand covering hers as i guided myself to her entrance. when i pushed into herāslow, deep, filling her completelyāwe both groaned.
"god," i breathed, my forehead pressed to hers. "you feel so fucking good. so perfect."
"move," she gasped. "please, arch, move."
i pulled out slowly before thrusting back in, and the stretch, the fullness, made her cry out. i set a slow, deep rhythm, my hands gripping her hips as i watched where we were joined.
"look at you," i murmured. "taking me so well. fuck, baby, you're so beautiful like this."
"faster," she begged, her nails digging into my shoulders. "please, i needā"
i didn't let her finish. my pace picked up, my hips snapping against hers, and the sound of skin on skin filled the kitchen. she couldn't hold back the sounds spilling from her lipsāmoans, gasps, my name over and over.
"that's it," i groaned. "let me hear you. wanna hear how good i make you feel."
"so good," she gasped. "fuck, arch, you feel so good."
i leaned down, capturing her lips in a messy, desperate kiss as i fucked her harder. one hand slid up to cup her breast through her bra, and she arched into my touch.
"take this off," i muttered, tugging at her bra. "wanna see all of you."
she reached back, unhooking it with shaking hands, and i pulled it off, tossing it aside. my mouth was on her breast immediately, my tongue circling her nipple before i sucked it into my mouth.
"fuckā" she cried out, her hands tangling in my hair.
i switched to the other breast, my teeth grazing her nipple, and the sensation combined with the way i was filling her was almost too much.
"arch, i'mā" she could barely get the words out. "i'm so close."
"yeah?" i pulled back to look at her, my eyes dark and hungry. "you gonna come for me, baby?"
"yes," she gasped. "yes, please, i needā"
my hand slid between our bodies, my thumb finding her clit, and i rubbed tight circles as i kept fucking her. the dual sensation was overwhelming, and she felt herself teetering on the edge.
"come for me," i commanded, my voice rough. "wanna feel you come on my cock."
that was all it took. she shattered, crying out my name as her body trembled and clenched around me. the pleasure was white-hot, consuming, and she clung to me as wave after wave washed over her.
"fuckā" i groaned, my thrusts growing erratic. "baby, i'mā"
"come inside me," she gasped. "please, arch, i want it."
i buried myself deep, my whole body tensing as i came, and she felt me pulsing inside her. i groaned her name, my face buried in her neck, and she held me close as we both rode out the aftershocks.
for a moment, neither of us moved. just stayed there, tangled together, our foreheads pressed together as we caught our breath.
"i love you," i whispered, my hands cupping her face. "i love you so fucking much."
"i love you too," she said, her voice soft and breathless.
i kissed her again, slow and sweet this time, before carefully pulling out. we both winced at the loss, and i grabbed a kitchen towel, gently cleaning her up before helping her down from the counter.
her legs were shaky, and i steadied her with a grin. "you okay?"
"more than okay," she said, and she meant it.
i pulled her into my arms, holding her close for a long moment. "that wasā"
"yeah," she agreed, smiling against my chest.
"come on," i said, kissing the top of her head. "let's get you to bed."
i led her to the bedroom, and we both collapsed onto the bed. i pulled her into my chest, my arms wrapping around her tightly, and she felt safe. loved. exactly where she was supposed to be.
"tonight was a lot," i said quietly, my fingers tracing patterns on her back.
"yeah," she agreed, her own fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest. "but it was good. really good."
"yeah?" i kissed the top of her head.
"yeah." she tilted her head up to look at me. "thank you. for everything. for what you said to my mom. for just... being you."
"always," i said, and the way i said itālike a promiseāmade her chest feel full all over again. "i meant what i said. i'm not going anywhere. you're it for me."
"you're it for me too," she whispered.
i kissed her softly, and she felt herself melting into me. after a few minutes, i pulled back slightly.
āāāā
three days later, i was sitting in a quiet bistro on the west side, watching y/n's mom walk through the door.
she spotted me immediately, and i could see the surprise still lingering on her faceāthe same surprise that had been in her voice when i'd called her two days ago and asked if she'd have lunch with me. just the two of us.
she hadn't asked why. just said yes.
i stood as she approached, pulling out her chair. "mrs. y/l/n. thank you for coming."
"of course," she said, settling into her seat. her smile was polite but cautious. "though i have to admit, i wasn't expecting your call."
"i know." i sat back down, folding my hands on the table. "i wanted to talk to you. just us. if that's okay."
she studied me for a moment, and i could see her trying to read me. "okay."
the waiter came by, and we orderedāsomething light, nothing too formal. when he left, the silence settled between us, and i took a breath.
"i wanted to thank you," i started. "for raising her the way you did. for making her who she is."
her expression softened slightly, but she didn't say anything yet.
"i know the other night was... a lot," i continued. "and i know you have concerns. about me, about this life, about whether she's ready for all of it." i paused, meeting her eyes. "i get it. i do. and i'm not here to tell you you're wrong."
she blinked, clearly not expecting that.
"our worlds are different," i said. "i grew up with a lot of privilege, a lot of opportunities that not everyone gets. and i'm aware of that. i'm aware that my life comes with pressure and expectations and a spotlight that can be... overwhelming." i leaned forward slightly. "but i need you to know that none of that matters to me if i don't have her. she's not an accessory to my life. she's the center of it."
her eyes were glassy now, and she looked down at her hands.
"i love your daughter," i said, my voice steady. "i've loved her since we were kids, and i never stopped. and i know i messed up beforeāi got too focused on football, on proving myself, and i didn't fight hard enough to keep her. but i'm not making that mistake again."
"archā" her voice was soft, almost fragile.
"i'm not asking you to trust me right away," i said. "i know i have to earn that. but i'm asking you to give me the chance. because i'm not going anywhere. i'm all in. completely."
she was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing the edge of her water glass. when she finally spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.
"when she left you," she said quietly, "it broke her. she didn't say it, but i could see it. she tried to move on, tried to convince herself it was the right decision, but she was never the same." she looked up at me, and there were tears in her eyes now. "and i blamed myself. because i was the one who told her she couldn't keep up. that your world was too big for her."
my chest tightened.
"i was scared," she continued. "scared that she'd lose herself trying to be someone she wasn't. scared that she'd get hurt. and when she came home after the breakup, i thought i'd protected her. but i hadn't. i'd just... taken something away from her."
"you were protecting your daughter," i said gently. "that's what parents do."
"but i was wrong," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "i see that now. the way you look at her, the way you showed up the other night... you love her. really love her. i mean you reminded me so much of her father."
"i do," i said. "more than anything."
she wiped at her eyes, laughing softly. "she's always been so independent. so determined to prove she could do everything on her own. even when she was little, she never wanted help. never wanted to admit she needed anyone." she smiled, and it was bittersweet. "but with you... she lets herself need you. and that scared me. because what if you left? what if you decided she wasn't enough?"
"she's more than enough," i said firmly. "she's everything. and i'm not leaving. not now, not ever."
her mom nodded slowly, and when she looked at me again, there was something different in her eyes. acceptance, maybe. or at least the beginning of it.
"you're a good man, arch," she said softly. "i can see that. and i can see how much you love her."
"i'm gonna take care of her," i promised. "i'm gonna make sure she knows every single day that she's loved, that she's valued, that she's exactly where she belongs."
"i believe you," she said, and the weight of those words settled between us.
we talked for another hour after thatāabout y/n, about her childhood, about the little things her mom remembered. she told me about the time y/n had insisted on entering a science fair in third grade and stayed up for three nights straight building a volcano. about how she'd worked two jobs in high school to save up for college. about how fiercely independent she'd always been, even when it meant doing things the hard way.
and i listened. because i wanted to know everything. every piece of her that made her who she was.
by the time we left the restaurant, her mom pulled me into a hug. "thank you," she said quietly. "for loving her the way you do."
"thank you for trusting me," i said.
when i got back to the apartment, y/n was on the couch with moose, her laptop open in front of her. she looked up when i walked in, her eyebrows raising.
"where were you?" she asked.
"had lunch," i said casually, dropping my keys on the counter.
"with who?"
"your mom."
she froze. "what?"
"i called her a couple days ago," i said, sitting down next to her. "asked her to lunch. just wanted to talk."
"archā" she looked stunned. "why didn't you tell me?"
"because i wanted to do it on my own," i said, reaching for her hand. "i wanted her to know i'm serious. that this isn't just some phase or rebound. that i'm in this for real."
her eyes were wide, and i could see the emotion building behind them. "what did you say?"
"i told her i love you," i said simply. "and that i'm not going anywhere."
she didn't say anything. just launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face in my shoulder.
and in that moment, with her in my arms and the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.
the restaurant's ambient lighting had cast everything in a warm, golden glowāthe kind of atmosphere that made three years feel both impossibly long and remarkably short. y/n had watched arch across the table all evening, the way candlelight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened every time they dropped to the neckline of her dress. he'd been sweet during dinner, reminiscent even, talking about their first date and how he'd known within an hour that he was going to fall in love with her.
but now, in the backseat of the uber, sweet arch had evaporated entirely.
his hand was on her thigh, fingers digging in possessively, gripping hard enough that she knew there'd be marks tomorrow. not innocent. never innocent with him. the touch was demanding, a preview, a promise of what he thought was coming.
"you look so fucking good tonight," he murmured, his voice low enough that the driver couldn't hear. his lips brushed against her ear, teeth grazing her earlobe. "been thinking about peeling this dress off you since we sat down for dinner. thinking about bending you over every surface in our apartment."
y/n's heart hammered in her chest, but she kept her expression soft, pliant. she turned her head slightly, letting her lips curve into a small smile. "yeah?"
"yeah." his hand slid higher, pushing under the hem of her dress, fingers trailing up her inner thigh with clear intent. his thumb stroked against the lace of her panties, and she had to bite back a gasp. "gonna wreck you tonight, baby. gonna make you scream my name so loud the neighbors complain again."
oh, arch.
she bit her lip, let her lashes flutter like she was already melting under his touch. like she always did. and she would melt under his touchāusually. arch knew her body like a musician knew their instrument, knew exactly how to make her fall apart, how to reduce her to nothing but need and pleading and his name on her lips.
but tonight?
tonight she had other plans.
her fingers curled against her clutch purse, and she felt the familiar thrill of anticipation spike through her veins. beneath this dressāthe black one that hugged every curve, the one he'd watched her zip up earlier with hungry eyesāshe was wearing the lingerie set she'd bought last week. deep red lace, the kind that left very little to the imagination. the bra pushed her breasts up in a way that would make his mouth water. the panties were barely there, just delicate straps and sheer fabric that she knew would drive him insane.
he has no idea.
the thought made her stomach flip with nervous excitement.
arch's hand squeezed her thigh hard, his fingers pressing against her through the lace, pulling her attention back. "you're quiet," he observed, his tone edging toward playful suspicion. his other hand grabbed her jaw, turning her face toward him. "what are you thinking about?"
"you," she said honestly, and it wasn't a lie. she was thinking about him. about the way he was going to look handcuffed to their bed. about the way his voice was going to crack when he begged her to let him come.
he grinned, cocky and devastating, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "good girl."
the praise sent a shiver through her, and she had to remind herself to stay focused. arch was a switch, even if he didn't always admit it. he loved being dominantāloved the control, the power, the way she surrendered to him. but every once in a while, when she took charge, when she pushed him down and climbed on top of him and made him take it, she could see something shift in his eyes. something desperate and needy and so fucking hot it made her dizzy.
she'd dommed him before. a few times. enough to know he liked it, even if he always protested at first, even if he always tried to wrestle back control.
but tonight was different.
tonight she wasn't just going to take charge. she was going to take everything.
the uber slowed to a stop outside their apartment building, and arch was already moving, pulling her out of the car with an urgency that made her stumble. his hand found the small of her back as they walked through the lobby, then slid lower as they waited for the elevator, grabbing her ass roughly, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly how hard he was.
"arch," she said, glancing around the empty lobby with feigned embarrassment.
"what?" he pulled her closer, his hand sliding up to grip the back of her neck possessively, his lips finding her throat. "no one's here. and even if they were, i don't give a fuck. want everyone to know you're mine."
the elevator dinged, and they stepped inside. the moment the doors closed, he was on her, slamming her back against the mirrored wall hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was all heat and possession and teeth. his hands roamed aggressively, one sliding up to roughly palm her breast through her dress, squeezing hard, the other gripping her hip with bruising force as he ground against her.
y/n kissed him back, let herself get lost in it for a moment. let him think he was setting the pace. his hand slid down, yanking her dress up, his fingers hooking into her panties.
just wait, she thought, her pulse racing. just wait until i get you exactly where i want you.
she'd found the handcuffs three weeks ago, completely by accident. she'd been looking for a phone charger in his nightstandāhers had died and she knew he kept a spare in there somewhere. the top drawer had been a mess of receipts and random cords, so she'd tried the bottom drawer.
and there they were.
black leather cuffs, padded on the inside, with metal clasps that looked sturdy and professional. not the cheap fuzzy kind from a gag gift shop. these were real. these were meant to be used.
her first thought had been a jolt of heatāhe bought these for meāfollowed immediately by understanding. the headboard. he'd been so specific about the headboard when they'd moved in together last year, insisting on one with those decorative metal bars running horizontally near the top. she'd thought it was just an aesthetic choice.
it wasn't.
he'd been planning this. planning to cuff her to that bed, to tie her down and make her helpless while he did whatever he wanted to her body.
the idea had made her wet immediately, she wasn't going to lie. but it had also planted a seed.
what if i used them on him first?
the elevator doors opened on their floor, and arch grabbed her hand, practically dragging her down the hallway. she could feel the energy radiating off him, that dominant confidence that usually made her knees weak. he was already in that headspace, already planning out exactly how he was going to wreck her.
he unlocked their apartment door and pulled her inside, kicking it shut behind them. his hands were on her immediately, sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders, his mouth hot and demanding on her neck.
"arch," she said softly, catching his wrists. "let meā"
"no," he growled, his voice firm and edged with command. he grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head against the wall. "tonight i'm taking care of you, baby. our anniversary. gonna make you come so many times you can't walk tomorrow." his free hand slid down her body possessively. "let daddy make you feel good."
there it was. daddy. he knew that word did things to her, knew how easily she slipped into submission when he used it.
but not tonight.
"i know," she said, her voice sweet and yielding. she stepped back when he released her, just out of his reach, and his eyes tracked her movement with predatory focus. "but i want to do something for you first. please?"
his eyebrow arched, his jaw clenching with barely restrained hunger. "yeah? what did you have in mind?"
she let her fingers trail down her own body, watching his gaze follow the movement. "i want you to lie down. let me... appreciate you."
arch's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. he stepped toward her, backing her up until her legs hit the couch. "you want to worship me a little, baby? that what you're asking?" his hand shot out, gripping her throatānot choking, just holding, just reminding her who was in control. "want to get on your knees for daddy?"
sure. let's call it that.
"yes," she said, and she let her voice dip into that breathy, submissive tone he loved. "please, daddy. i want to make you feel good."
she could see him considering it, see the war between his desire to dominate and his enjoyment of being desired. finally, he nodded, that cocky smile still in place. he released her throat, his thumb dragging across her bottom lip.
"alright, baby. but then it's my turn, and i'm not going to be gentle."
"i wouldn't want you to be," she said, and that part was true.
they moved to the bedroom, and y/n's heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. the room was dimly lit by the lamp on her nightstand, casting everything in soft shadows. the bedātheir bed, with that very specific headboardāsat waiting.
arch pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the lean muscle of his torso, and y/n felt her mouth go dry despite herself. three years and he still made her feel like a teenager with a crush.
he sat on the edge of the bed, then reclined back against the pillows, his arms folding behind his head. the picture of casual dominance. his eyes raked over her body with clear hunger. "alright, baby. show me what you've got. and make it goodāyou're gonna pay for making me wait."
y/n moved slowly, deliberately. she reached behind her back and found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. arch's eyes were locked on her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
the dress pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it.
"fuck," arch breathed, and she watched his entire body tense with want.
the lingerie set looked even better than she'd imagined. the red lace contrasted beautifully against her skin, and she could see the exact moment arch's patience snapped. his hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white.
"you like it?" she asked, and she let herself feel the confidence that question deserved. she looked fucking good and she knew it.
"get the fuck over here," he growled, sitting up. his voice had dropped an octave, pure command. "right now, y/n. i'm done waiting."
"in a minute," she said, moving to her dresser, her heart hammering. she could feel the predatory energy radiating off him.
"no. now." she heard him stand, heard his belt buckle jingle as he started toward her.
she turned quickly, pulling open the top drawerāthe one where she'd hidden the handcuffs after finding them. her fingers closed around the leather, and she spun to face him, holding them up.
arch stopped dead, his eyes going wide, then narrowing dangerously.
"where did youā"
"your nightstand," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "i was looking for a charger."
for a long moment, he just stared at her. then his jaw clenched, and she saw something shift in his expressionārecognition, calculation, and then refusal.
"those are for you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. he took a step toward her. "and that's exactly how they're going to be used."
"i thought maybe tonight we could switch things up," she said, backing toward the bed.
"no." another step. he was stalking her now, and fuck, the look in his eyes made her knees weak. "i don't think so, baby. nice try, though."
"archā"
"you want to play games?" he was right in front of her now, his hand shooting out to grip her hip, fingers digging in possessively. "fine. but you're going to lose."
his other hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as his mouth crashed against hers. the kiss was brutal, claiming, his tongue invading her mouth as he walked her backward toward the bed. she felt the mattress hit the back of her knees.
no. not like this. not tonight.
y/n twisted in his grip, using his momentum against him. she shoved hard at his chest, and he stumbled back a step, surprised.
"what the fuckā"
she didn't give him time to recover. she launched herself at him, and they went down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. arch immediately tried to roll them, to pin her beneath him like he always did, but she fought back. she got her knee between them, leveraged her weight, kept him off balance.
"y/n, stopā" he grabbed her wrists, trying to control her, but she wrenched one free.
"no," she gasped, grappling with him. "my turn."
"like hellā" he flipped them, getting on top of her, pinning her hips with his thighs. his hands caught both of hers, slamming them down on either side of her head. he was breathing hard, his eyes wild. "you really think you can overpower me, baby?"
she could feel how hard he was, pressed against her through his pants. could see the arousal mixing with the dominance in his eyes. he liked this. he was fighting her, but he liked this.
"i don't have to overpower you," she panted. she arched up against him, rolling her hips, and felt his grip falter for just a second as pleasure shot through him.
that second was all she needed.
she twisted hard, using a move she'd learned in a self-defense class years ago, and suddenly she was on top, straddling him. before he could react, she grabbed one of his wrists and yanked it up toward the headboard.
"what theāy/nā" he tried to buck her off, his free hand grabbing at her thigh, her hip, trying to flip them again.
she caught his other wrist, her heart pounding, adrenaline singing through her veins. they struggled, his muscles straining against her grip, and for a moment she thought she'd lose. he was stronger than her, always had been.
but she was determined. and she had surprise on her side.
she threw her weight forward, using gravity and momentum, and managed to get both his wrists above his head. the handcuffs were still clutched in one of her hands, the metal digging into her palm.
"y/n, don't you fucking dareā"
she snapped one cuff around his right wrist.
"fuckā" he yanked hard, trying to pull free, but she'd already looped the chain through the metal bar of the headboard. she was faster than him now, riding the wave of her victory, and she caught his left wrist even as he tried to grab at her with it.
the second cuff clicked shut.
they both froze, breathing hard.
arch pulled at the restraints, the metal clinking against the headboard. once, twice, hard enough that she worried for a second he might actually break them. but they held.
"y/n." his voice was dangerous, commanding even now. "uncuff me. right now."
she sat back on his thighs, her chest heaving, and just looked at him. arch, her arch, handcuffed to their bed. his hair was messed up from their struggle, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and arousal and something elseāsomething that looked almost like excitement.
"no," she said softly.
his jaw clenched. "y/n, i'm not fucking around. let me go."
"i know you're not." she reached over to her nightstand, pulling out the blindfold she'd tucked in the drawer earlier. "but neither am i."
his eyes widened when he saw the black silk. "don'tā"
she leaned forward, and he tried to turn his head away, but she was faster. she tied the blindfold over his eyes, her fingers trembling slightly as she knotted it at the back of his head.
"y/n, i swear to godā"
"shh," she whispered, and she heard his breath catch at the sudden darkness.
she climbed off him, standing at the foot of the bed, just watching. his chest was heaving, his hands flexing in the cuffs, testing them again. the bulge in his pants was obscene, straining against the fabric.
he was furious. he was turned on. he was helpless.
perfect.
"y/n, stop playing games baby," he said, and even now, even handcuffed and blindfolded, there was that cocky edge to his voice, that attempt to reassert dominance. "let daddy take care of you."
she didn't respond. just stood there, letting the silence stretch.
"y/n?" he asked, and now there was a hint of panic creeping into his voice. "are you still here?"
oh, this was going to be fun.
she moved silently, carefully placing one knee on the bed, then the other. the mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and she saw arch's whole body tense.
she crawled over him slowly, deliberately, until she was straddling his hips. then she lowered herself down, pressing her lace-covered pussy against the hard length of him through his pants.
"oh fuck," arch gasped, his hips jerking up involuntarily.
"i'm still here, baby," y/n said sweetly, and she felt a surge of power at the way he shuddered beneath her.
this was going to be a very good anniversary indeed.Ā Ā
she rolled her hips against him, slow and deliberate, and watched his jaw clench. even blindfolded, even restrained, he was so fucking beautiful. his bare chest rose and fell rapidly, muscles taut with tension, and she could see the war playing out across his faceāarousal fighting with frustration, need battling against his desire to control.
"you feel that?" she asked softly, grinding down harder. the friction sent sparks of pleasure through her own body. "you feel how hard you are?"
"y/nā" his voice was strained. "baby, come on. uncuff me. let me touch you properly."
"no," she said simply, and she felt him twitch beneath her at the word.
she leaned forward, her hands running over his bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. his muscles jumped under her touch.
"fuck," he breathed.Ā
she climbed off him, and he made a frustrated sound low in his throat. she could see him pulling at the cuffs again, testing them, but they held firm.
good.
she could see the full extent of how hard he was now, straining against his boxers. "just relax."
"relax?" his laugh was sharp, almost bitter. "you've got me handcuffed to our fucking bed and you want me to relax?"
"yes," she said calmly, hooking her fingers into his waistband. "lift your hips."
for a moment, she thought he might refuse. thought he might dig in his heels and make this difficult just on principle. but then, slowly, he lifted his hips, and she pulled his boxers off, freeing him completely. he was blindfolded and cuffed and so hard she could see the wet spot forming on the fabric.
his cock sprang up, hard and flushed and leaking, and y/n felt her mouth water. she wrapped her hand around him, stroking once from base to tip, and arch's whole body went rigid.
god, he's perfect like this.
she climbed back onto the bed, straddling his thighs this time, lower than before. her fingers tracing lines on his torso, and she felt him suck in a sharp breath.
"you're so hard," she observed, now running one finger along the length of him. he jerked at the touch, his hips lifting involuntarily. "is this turning you on, arch? being tied up? being helpless?"
"no," he said immediately, but his voice was too rough, too desperate. "i justāfuckāi just want you. always want you."
"liar," she said softly.
"fuckāy/nāpleaseā"
"please what?" she stroked him again, slow and firm, her thumb swiping over the head. he was so wet already, precum beading at the tip.
"pleaseā" he pulled hard at the cuffs, the metal rattling against the headboard. "please let me touch you. please, baby, i'm going crazy here. i needāi need to feel youā"
she released him, and he made a sound of pure frustration.
"you want to feel me?" she asked, and she could hear the power in her own voice now, the confidence. this was working. this was really working.
"yes," he gasped. "yes, fuck, pleaseā"
she moved up his body, straddling his hips again, and this time when she ground down against him, there was nothing between them but the thin lace of her panties. she was soaked, she knew he could feel it, and the way his mouth fell open confirmed it.
"oh fuck," he breathed. "babyāyou're so wetā"
"i know," she said, rolling her hips. the friction was incredible, his bare cock sliding against her through the lace, and she had to bite back a moan. "you feel that? you feel what you do to me?"
"then let meā" he thrust up against her, desperate and needy. "let me inside you, please, i needā"
"not yet," she said, and she reached down, guiding his cock so it pressed directly against her clit through the fabric. the pressure made her gasp, made her hips stutter, and she saw arch's jaw clench at the sound.
"you're killing me," he groaned. "y/n, please, i'm begging youā"
"i know you are," she said, and god, the rush of power that gave her was intoxicating. arch never begged. never. but here he was, handcuffed and blindfolded and begging her to let him go, to let him touch her, to let him fuck her.
and she was saying no.
she leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head, and immediately felt his body surge up toward her. his mouth found her collarbone, her throat, kissing and sucking desperately, trying to mark her, trying to claim some kind of control.
"that's it," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough. "come here, baby. let me taste you. let meā"
his mouth found the swell of her breast above the lace of her bra, and he sucked hard, his teeth grazing her skin. y/n gasped, her hips jerking against him involuntarily.
"fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his mouth moving frantically, trying to get more of her. "let meāneed moreāneed toā"
she pulled back, just out of reach, and he made a sound of pure frustration.
"y/n, pleaseā"
"you want to taste me?" she asked, breathless.
"yes," he said desperately. "yes, fuck, please, let meāi'll make you come so hard, baby, just let meā"
she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall away. arch's whole body went still.
"y/nā"
she leaned forward again, and this time she guided her breast directly to his mouth. he latched on immediately, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around her nipple, and the sensation shot straight to her core.
"fuck," she gasped, her hand tangling in his hair. he was moaning against her skin, desperate and hungry, and she could feel how badly he wanted to use his hands, to grab her, to hold her in place while he devoured her.
but he couldn't.
she was in control.
she pulled back again, and he actually whimpered at the loss.
"noādon'tācome backā"
"say please," she said, and she heard how breathless her own voice was.
"please," he said immediately. "please, baby, please let meāi needā"
she gave him her other breast, and he sucked even harder this time, his teeth scraping against her nipple in a way that made her cry out. his hips were thrusting up against her now, seeking friction, seeking relief, and she could feel how close he was to losing it completely.
god, this is incredible.
she'd never felt power like this before. never felt this kind of control. arch was always the one in charge, always the one calling the shots, and she loved that about him. loved surrendering to him, loved letting him take her apart.
but this?
this was something else entirely.
she pulled back again, sitting up, and arch's head fell back against the pillow with a groan of frustration.
"y/n, please, i can'tāi needā" he pulled at the cuffs again, hard enough that she worried for a second he might hurt himself. "let me go. please. i'll do anything. i'll make you come as many times as you want, i'llāi'll let you ride my face, i'llāfuckājust please let me touch youā"
"no," she said, and she reached down, wrapping her hand around his cock again. he was so hard it had to hurt, precum dripping down the shaft, and when she stroked him once, his whole body convulsed.
"fuckādon'tāif you do that i'm gonnaā"
she released him immediately, and he made a sound that was half-sob, half-growl.
"you're evil," he gasped. "you're fucking evil, you know that?"
"maybe," she said, and she couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. "but you love it."
"i don'tā" but his protest died in his throat, because they both knew it was a lie. his cock was still rock-hard, still leaking, and his chest was heaving like he'd run a marathon.
he loved this.
he just didn't want to admit it yet.
y/n climbed off him, standing beside the bed, and she heard him make a desperate sound.
"where are you going?"
"nowhere," she said, hooking her thumbs into her panties. "just getting more comfortable."
she slid them down her legs, stepping out of them, and she saw arch's hands clench into fists in the cuffs.
"y/nā"
"i'm right here," she said, climbing back onto the bed. she straddled his hips again, and this time when she settled against him, there was nothing between them at all. just her bare, soaking pussy pressed against his cock.
"oh my god," arch breathed, and his hips jerked up so hard he nearly bucked her off. "oh fuckābabyāpleaseā"
she reached down, guiding him so his cock slid between her folds, coating him in her wetness. the head of him bumped against her clit and they both gasped.
"you feel that?" she asked, rolling her hips slowly. "you feel how wet i am? how much i want this?"
"then take it," he begged, his voice breaking. "please, baby, justājust sit on itāi need to be inside youāi needā"
"i know what you need," she said, and she lifted up slightly, positioning him at her entrance. she could feel him trembling beneath her, could feel how badly he wanted to thrust up, to bury himself inside her.
but she didn't sink down.
she just held him there, right at the edge, and watched him fall apart.
"y/nā" his voice was wrecked now, desperate and pleading. "pleaseā"
"not yet," she whispered, and she lifted away completely.
the sound he made was inhuman.Ā Ā
she moved up his body, her knees bracketing his shoulders, and she felt him go completely still beneath her.
"y/nā" his voice was uncertain now, questioning. "what are youā"
"open your mouth," she said softly.
for a moment, he didn't move. she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, could see the way his jaw clenched. then, slowly, his lips parted.
"good boy," she whispered, and she lowered herself onto his face.
the first touch of his tongue made her gasp. he didn't hesitateāthe moment he tasted her, he groaned against her pussy, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body. his tongue was everywhere at once, licking and sucking and devouring her like a man starving.
"fuck," she breathed, her hands gripping the headboard for balance. "god, you're so eager for it, aren't you?"
he moaned in response, his tongue flicking over her clit, and she felt her thighs tremble. she could feel him pulling at the cuffs, could hear the metal rattling as he tried desperately to touch her, to grab her hips and hold her down against his mouth.
but he couldn't.
she was in control of everythingāthe pressure, the angle, the pace. when he got too aggressive, too demanding with his tongue, she lifted up slightly, making him chase her. when he whimpered in frustration, she rewarded him by grinding down harder.
"that's it," she gasped, rolling her hips against his face. "just like thatāoh godā"
his tongue circled her clit, then dipped lower, fucking into her, and she felt her whole body tighten with pleasure. she could feel his desperation in every movement, could feel how badly he wanted to flip this, to take control, to pin her down and make her scream.
but he couldn't do any of that.
all he could do was lie there and let her use his mouth however she wanted.
she rode his face until her thighs were shaking, until she was gasping and trembling and so close to the edge she could taste it. but she didn't let herself come. not yet. she wanted to draw this out, wanted to make him wait, wanted to feel him inside her when she finally let go.
she lifted off his face, and the sound he made was almost a sob.
"noā" his voice was wrecked, his lips wet and swollen. "baby, pleaseādon't stopā"
"i'm not stopping," she said, moving back down his body. "i'm just getting started."
she straddled his hips again, and this time when she positioned him at her entrance, she didn't tease. she sank down in one smooth motion, taking him all the way to the base.
"fuckā" arch's whole body arched off the bed, his head thrown back, the cords in his neck standing out. "oh my godāy/nā"
she didn't move. she just sat there, feeling him pulse inside her, feeling how deep he was, how perfectly he filled her. his chest was heaving, sweat already beading on his skin, and she could see him fighting for control.
"you feel so good," she whispered, and she reached up, finding the knot of the blindfold. "i want you to watch me now."
she pulled the fabric away, and arch's eyes flew open.
for a moment, he just stared at her, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted. she could see the exact moment it hit himāthe reality of what was happening, the sight of her sitting on top of him, naked and flushed and in complete control.
"fuck," he breathed. "y/nā"
she started to move.
slow at first, rolling her hips in a steady rhythm that had them both gasping. she braced her hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath her palms, and she watched his face as she rode him.
he looked wrecked. completely undone. his eyes were locked on her, tracking every movementāthe way her breasts bounced with each roll of her hips, the way her head fell back when he hit that perfect spot inside her, the way her thighs flexed as she lifted and sank back down.
"you like watching?" she asked, her voice breathy. "you like seeing me ride your cock?"
"yesā" the word came out strangled. "fuck, yesāyou look so fucking goodā"
she picked up the pace, bouncing on him now, and she felt sweat starting to bead on her own skin. the room was hot, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat, and she could feel moisture gathering between their bodies where they were joined.
arch tried to thrust up to meet her, tried to take some control back, but she pressed down harder, pinning his hips to the mattress.
"no," she said firmly. "i'm in charge. you just lie there and take it."
he made a desperate sound, his hands clenching into fists in the cuffs. "babyāpleaseāi needā"
"i know what you need," she said, and she changed the angle, grinding down so her clit rubbed against him with every movement. the friction was perfect, sending waves of pleasure through her body. "oh godā"
she could feel sweat running down her spine now, could feel it beading on her forehead, between her breasts. arch was slick with it too, his chest glistening in the low light, and when she leaned forward to brace herself better, their bodies slid together.
"you're so fucking beautiful," arch gasped, his eyes never leaving her face. "god, y/nāyou're so beautiful like thisā"
she rode him harder, faster, chasing the pleasure building in her core. her thighs were burning, her whole body trembling with exertion, but she didn't stop. she could feel him getting close, could feel the way his cock was pulsing inside her, the way his breathing was getting more ragged.
"don't you dare come," she warned, slowing down just enough to make him whimper. "not until i say you can."
"fuckā" his voice broke. "y/n, pleaseāi can'tāi'm so closeā"
"hold it," she commanded, and she started moving again, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles that had them both gasping. "you can hold it for me. i know you can."
she could see the strain on his face, could see how hard he was fighting it. his whole body was taut, muscles rigid with tension, sweat dripping down his temples. he looked desperate and beautiful and completely at her mercy.
mine. he's mine.
she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest, and she kissed himādeep and demanding, swallowing his moans. when she pulled back, his lips were swollen and wet, his eyes glazed with need.
"please," he whispered. "please, babyāi need to comeāi needā"
"not yet," she said, sitting back up. she braced her hands on his chest again and started riding him in earnestāhard, fast, taking exactly what she needed. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with their gasps and moans, and she felt her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly.
"oh godā" her rhythm faltered, her thighs shaking. "archā"
"come for me," he begged, his voice raw. "please, babyālet me feel you comeā"
she felt her orgasm coiling tighter, right on the edge, pleasure building so intensely she could barely breathe.
"pleaseā" arch's voice broke beneath her, desperate and wrecked. "can i comeāpleaseāi can't hold itā"
"yesā" she gasped, and the word came out just as her orgasm crashed over her. "nowācome with meāoh godā"
they came together.
her pussy clenched around him as pleasure exploded through her body, and she felt him pulse inside her at the exact same moment, felt the warmth of him filling her as his whole body went rigid beneath her. she cried out, and his shout mixed with hersāboth of them lost in it, their bodies trembling and shaking together.
his eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open, and the sound he made was almost a sob. she could feel every pulse, every aftershock, their orgasms feeding off each other until she couldn't tell where hers ended and his began.
she collapsed forward onto his chest, both of them gasping for air, their bodies slick with sweat and trembling with aftershocks. she could feel his heart hammering against her cheek, could feel him still twitching inside her.
for a long moment, neither of them moved. they just lay there, breathing hard, coming down from the high.
then arch's voice, rough and quiet: "uncuff me. please."
she lifted her head to look at him. his eyes were soft now, vulnerable in a way she'd never seen before. not demanding. not commanding.
just asking.
she reached up and unlocked the cuffs.
the second the cuffs fell away, everything changed. arch movedāfast, decisive, all that pent-up dominance flooding back into him. he flipped her onto her back before she could even process what was happening, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while his body pressed her into the mattress.Ā
his eyes were dark, hungry, and not done. "your turn," he growled, reaching for the cuffs with his free hand, and she realized with a jolt of heat that he was still hard inside her.Ā
he snapped the leather around her wrist, then the other, securing them to the headboard with a precision that made her breath catch.Ā
he pulled back just enough to look down at herācompletely at his mercy now, spread out beneath himāand a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
