Warnings: Infidelity, Workplace Affairs, Fingering, Nickname ("Bee"), possessiveness, a lil yandere if you squint, hot people being immoral
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: I like to think this is the same protagonist that fucked Professor!Oscar Isaac in Great American Epic. I feel like this doesn't need to be said but: no, this isn't based on Dev's real relationship. I do not advocate for cheating. I just like writing immoral mess.
• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
"Blink twice if you've lost the will to live."
A cup of iced coffee slid into view with your name written on it in rushed, slanted cursive and punctuated with a smiley face. You'd lost track of how long you sat staring at the words in your inbox. It seemed like every five seconds, another ping pierced the deepest corners of your brain. Another blue dot shot daggers at you. Another slack message screamed at you.
(114) Unread Messages
(126) Unread Messages
Ping...ping...ping...
You were shoved back into reality when he nudged the plastic cup a little closer to you and you remembered how to use your hands for something other than typing.
You groaned, finally forcing yourself to turn away from your desktop to address the tall, lanky man in front of you. "I don't know how you always know."
He fidgeted with his tie, bashfully, and shrugged. Always so humble.
"You're actually not as mysterious as you think you are." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the top of your cubicle, "You have the worst poker face of anyone I know. So if you look like you're on the brink of death, chances are, you're probably on the brink of death. Y'know?"
You snorted when he did his best impression of you, which included a heavy huff and a not-so-subtle rolling of the eyes.
"Well, we can't all be a ray of sunshine like you." You countered, taking a long, slow pull from the paper straw and sighing in relief. "Just the way I like it, thank you."
Something crossed Dev's features--something akin to deep satisfaction, you presumed--and he grinned.
"Why are you always so surprised that I know what you like?" He quirked a brow at you.
You pursed your lips in thought at the softball question. Truthfully, Dev was a particularly good listener--a fact you learned pretty quickly. But you also felt like you rambled way too much and it was hardly ever anything worth retaining. You tried to decide if it'd be worth it to be that honest in your response.
"I guess I never realized I revealed that much about myself that was worth remembering."
"C'mon," he leaned forward over the cubicle and you could smell the subtle sweetness of his cologne, "everything about you is worth remembering, Bee."
A beat passed in the conversation and your tongue darted out to lick coffee from the corner of your mouth. You watched his eyes track the action as he took a slow, deep breath.
"Careful," you cooed, swiveling the chair around to redirect your attention back to your computer, "wouldn't want You-Know-Who to get mad."
You heard him guffaw behind you, though you could hear the hint of anxiety in his voice when he spoke.
"'You-Know-Wh--' you're still on that? She knows we're just friends, I don't think it's that big of a deal."
"I'm just saying," you stretched your arms over your head, elongating your spine and cracking some of your stiff joints, "every time she sees me, she looks like she wants to stab me about 50 times. I don't know what you did, but the lovely lady has a possessive streak."
You took another drink from the plastic cup and smiled subtly to yourself, peeking at him over your shoulder.
"I don't particularly understand it, it's not like she has anything to worry about. Right, D?"
Hesitance from the culprit. Shocker.
"Riiiight, Dev?" You asked again, clearly leading the horse to water.
He blinked at you as if he hadn't heard your question and shook his head.
"Nah. We're good. We've been good."
You took a long pull from the straw and turned back to your work.
"That's great! I'd hate to see you guys break up over something as silly as petty jealousy."
• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Per usual, there was a mad dash to the office elevator once the clock struck six. The thirty person office trickled down to ten.
Then five.
Then just two on opposite sides of the office floor, heads buried in papers and pages of post-it notes. Deemed the hardest workers in the company, no one was ever surprised when you two were the last to leave. You insisted that you both just worked well together, and had the analytics to show it.
And you were right. T's were crossed. I's were dotted. Numbers were calculated. There was no smoking gun.
And yet...
Your peers exchanged whispers in the bathroom and break room about how you both were seen leaving the office, oddly euphoric, at nine o'clock at night.
Security footage would show you standing on opposite sides of the elevator, speaking casually or scrolling through your phones. You always left the building and walked down separate side streets.
All of this crossed your mind in a brief flash as Dev propped you up on your boss' desk. He unzipped the back of your dress to reveal the cherry blossom pink lingerie he bought you for your birthday.
"God." He groaned. His neatly styled curls were now a cloud of dark locks framing his gorgeous face, and his dark eyes bore into you like he wanted to swallow you whole.
You couldn't lie, it thrilled you when he looked at you with a hunger you've only seen in men with nothing to lose.
It was a huge shift from the sweet, nervous man you talked to everyday. And it satisfied you knowing that only you, for whatever reason, had the power to bring this out of him.
"What?" You asked with mock curiosity. His large hands gripped your thighs tightly. You felt your lower stomach twitch.
He said nothing but slid his hands up your thighs to pull your dress off of your hips. In a beat, one hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss. One of many that night. His lips were already swollen from how many times you'd gently nipped at him or sucked his bottom lip between your teeth. And each time you did, you could hear a deep groan permeate the air from deep in his chest.
This time, he used his knees and his free hand to push your thighs apart and prop one knee up on the desk, "God I'm so fucking glad your period is over. I needed you so bad."
You laughed. It was a light, bubbly laugh that surprised you.
You didn't like that. You pushed the implication away as his teeth tugged at the cup of your bra and snapped it back into place.
"I've been dreaming about how you look in this. Fuck," he muttered, pressing his lips to the swell of your breast, "it looks perfect on you. So perfect. My perfect girl."
He hooked his fingers into the strap of your bra and slipped it over your shoulder.
"So you admit it," you asked coyly as he dragged his lower lip over your hardened nipple, "you are wrapped around my finger."
He laughed. Short, and airy, with a smile that lit up his entire face. "Shut up, you don't need me to tell you that. It's a given."
As you combed your fingers through his thick, dark hair, you gently tugged at a handful of it. You cooed just above a whisper, "But I'm needy. I want to hear you tell me."
He laughed again, this time standing up straight and wrapping both hands around your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the desk. You took the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and walk your fingers up his stomach beneath his shirt.
"You truly get off on the power you have over me don't you?" He groaned, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, "Do you revel in the fact that you own me and that I need you?"
You couldn't help the grin that spread across your lips, "Yeah? I own you?"
"I'm yours."
"Mmm. That's right. You're mine."
He pulled you in for another deep kiss, cupping your cheeks in his hands. It was desperate and sloppy, like he worried you'd slip away if he let go for just a moment.
"Be with me," he sighed against your lips, "please. I need you."
You tried to ignore what he said, choosing instead to pull him down on top of you across the desk and kiss down his stubbled throat, "God, you're so beautiful."
"Bee--" he let out a hoarse groan, hiking your thigh up and around his hip as you rocked against him, "shit."
You reached down to rub the front of his pants, earning a sharp gasp and another low groan in your ear.
"This is mine," you purred, "you're all mine."
He buried his head in your neck as you unzipped his trousers, and he muttered something against your skin that you barely understood.
"Hmm?" When he looked back up at you, his wide brown eyes were glossy with need and something else you really didn't want to think too hard about. "Dev..."
"Bee, you know what I'm gonna say. You know what I'm gonna fuckin' say."
You looked him over and felt the pang of frustration in your chest--and between your thighs. You knew this conversation was coming, and you kept putting it off hoping that he'd just forget about it and move on.
"I'll leave her right now, I'll do it." The haze of lust was gone from his gaze, and he looked deathly serious. "I'm not fuckin' joking when I say that you. own. me. I only want to be yours. I don't want to be anyone else's."
You winced, avoiding eye contact with him, "You know why--"
"Enough with the bullshit, Bee." He pinned your hands above your head on the desk and lowered his head to meet your avoidant gaze, "Am I yours or not?"
"It's not that simple."
"It's very simple. Am I yours or not?" He returned his knee between your thighs and pressed down right where you needed him to. You sighed. "Tell me to leave her. I'll do it."
"She's good for you--"
"No."
He pulled the thin fabric of your panties to the side and traced the seam of your lips with the thick tip of his middle finger.
"Say you'll be with me." He whispered in your ear, as his fingers brushed just over your sensitive clit before moving away again. You squirmed under him, "Tell me you don't want anyone touching me but you. That no one can have me but you."
Under the airy demand was a clear plea to free him from whatever torment you were putting him under. After months of back and forth, of claiming him and sending him back, you were finally getting your retribution.
"Do you hate me?" You breathed, your hand inching down to press his hand down against your aching core. He snatched it and pinned it back down against the desk.
"You know I don't. But, God, I wish I did," he admitted, laughing humorlessly, "it'd make all of this so much easier." He buried his head in your neck again, casually circling his finger around that spot you were silently begging him to touch.
"Please..." you whimpered.
"Tell me she can't have me," he muttered against your skin, "and I'll make the ache go away."
You shut your eyes, tightly, fighting against the words that you'd been tucking away in the shadows of your soul since you met him. You swallowed hard and let out a shuddering breath.
"I need you," you admitted, your voice sounding so small to your ears. He dipped his fingers into you, and your eyes rolled back when his teeth latched onto your neck. "Dev."
"Say it."
Your mouth popped open but nothing came out but a whine.
"Bee, say it."
"I-I'd ruin you."
Your chest heaved. He picked up the pace between your thighs, "I'm already ruined. Say it. I'm yours."
You were struggling to find the words as you rocked your hips against his hand, "You're m-mine. Shit, shit, shit. God, you feel so good."
"And no one else can have me."
You nod, chasing the high, "Just mine, only mine."
"Who else's?"
The words came spilling out of you. You gripped his wrist, trying to anchor yourself to anything for the sake of your own sanity. You could feel your heart thumping against your chest and hear your pulse steadily increase in your ears.
"No one. You're mine, mine, mine. No one can have you but me--shit, shit, fuck, oh my god." You dug your nails into his skin, "Right there, right there!"
You felt your brain temporarily shut off and your hips rise off the desk. You could just feel your lips moving and the voice that escaped sounded like a mix between a cry, a whine, and a choked sob.
i loveeeee your stories! could you please write something for dev patel? i love this man
Awww thank you for reading! I’m currently in the process of writing a story for him! Lots of yearning and worship. Honestly, he is so fine & he doesn’t get enough love!😩
“Promise me that you’ll keep in touch. Just because you’re miles away from me doesn’t mean I can lose my best friend.” It was our last day. The only time we ever saw each other was on this particular vacation, yet it felt as though we knew each other from birth. I would never tell him, but I loved him, I don’t know how deep but I knew I craved to be around him as soon as we were separated.
“Dev… I don’t have a phone, you know my mama and daddy are strict. I was told I couldn’t get a phone until I got to high school and were what? Fourteen.” The look of defeat graced his face, he knew what I said was true. His family was a little bit more relaxed, letting him wander around the place as much as he liked, but they were still cautious, wanting to know his whereabouts every hour.
“Hey! We still have this vacation. I don’t think my family will ever stop coming here. My sister thinks this place is magical.” Giving him a beacon of hope was all I could give him. I know I was too young to be making assumptions about my family's financial status to keep coming here, but we came here every year in the summer. Why would it stop?
“Harper, close your eyes.” His brown eyes held mine, they pleaded with me to listen to him. I was much of a follower of instructions so I looked at him with caution, afraid of what he was trying to do.
“Come on…” Rolling my eyes, at his impatience, I tightly shut my eyes, thinking that if I shut them tight enough he would quickly do what he needed to do.
Grabbing my hands we intertwined, relaxing into his touch, whatever fear I held in my mind was gone. I could sense he was closer than before. He was nervous even with my eyes closed, I could feel the sense of fear in him, the uncertainty. What was going on?
“Dev? What are you doing?”
“This.” Feeling his lips on my cheek, I opened my eyes with surprise. Why was he putting his lips so close to my face? I think he has lost his mind.
“W-W-Why did you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to, come on, let's head back.”
“Excuse me, head back! How can you just kiss me and not tell me why. Do you like me or something?” He was avoiding my eyesight now, he bagan getting up trying to walk out the cave, but he wasn’t getting away from this.
“Answer me! That was really weird, Dev!”
“So what! you didn’t like me kissing you on the cheek?”He liked me. I felt a smirk fall on my lips as I looked down at the sand in my toes. I’ve heard enough from my friends about how boys show that they like you and Dev didn’t do any of that until now. He was a regular boy who I could tolerate being around, someone company I really enjoyed.
“Next time aim for my lips.” He stared at me shocked, I could see he was holding his breath waiting for me to reject him, but I couldn’t do that. I liked him too, maybe a little too much.
His smile. I always liked it, it was usually directed at us having fun, but to see it at my declaration made butterflies form in my stomach. We didn’t say anything on the way back to our parents on the beach, we just held each other's hands. I was trying to remember the feelings of his hands, lock it away in the deep depth of my mind so I could keep it stored forever for the next time I came back.
“I’ll see you again Harper.”
“I’ll be waiting, Dev.”
. . . . . ✦
“Now listen to me Harp! Your father and I anniversary is coming up and we want to have a family trip, we wanna go back to Malta.”
“We haven’t been since I was fourteen, why do you want to go there now.”
“Because we remember how much fun we had going there and why not go back down memory lane.” I couldn’t believe my mama wanted to go back there. It's been so long since we've been there.
“Mama, it probably doesn’t even look the same anymore, let's just go somewhere local like Florida.”
“Girl don’t nobody wanna go to Florida! Ain't nothing down there but disney world and you and your sister grew out your disney obsession.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her.
“I still like disney mama, and Florida is nice, remember those pictures I took.”
“Those pictures were beautiful, your little photography skills are a special girl, but me, your daddy and you are going to Malta, also bring your boyfriend that you've been hiding from us so bad. I think it’ll be nice to meet the young man after all these years.” I smiled thinking about Anthony, I really cared for him and thank god that he came into my life when he did. It’s been a year and I was happy, but something always kept me keeping him at a distance. My mind just kept telling me don’t let him in, he isn’t the one.
“Alright mama, I’ll bring him, but don’t you and daddy start embarrassing me.”
“When have I done anything like that?”
“Mama you know.” Hearing my apartment door rattle, I got off the phone with my mama. Anthony came through the door wearing his work uniform. I jumped into his arms loving the way he tightly held me like he didn’t want me away from his touch.
“Hey, my love. What’s going on?”
“Nothing baby, my mama had just called me about a trip that she was planning and she wanted me and my sister to go as well.” He took a seat beside me, caressing my leg. He was always so touchy after getting off work. He said it was a stress relief to rub on his woman’s leg, but I knew he just wanted to have sex after a long day at work.
“Well what you tell her?”
“I told her I’m going, but you’re coming along with me. I think it might be time to meet each other's parents. I mean I’m all in.” Getting closer to him, I brushed my lips to his. I could feel him wanting to close the gap, but I held him back.
“I’m all in too…just let me know when this trip is so i can let work know and we can go, I wanna hear what little miss Harper was up to as a child.”
“No you don’t! I already told my mama not to say anything.” Anthony let out a laugh.
“Where are we going anyway?”
“Malta.”
“Any good memories there?” Giving him a peck on the lips, I tried not letting my mind wander back to Dev, The times of us being teenagers, of being in love. I didn’t want to remember the way he told me I was his soulmate, that I brought out emotions that he couldn’t understand, but knew he liked. I didn’t want to remember the way he made love to me, promising me that he’ll love me for as long as I loved. And yet I left as I always did and never could come back again. My seventeen year old self could never forgive myself at the time.
“Yeah, too many memories…”
. . . . . ✦
“Mama, move a bit closer to Anthony. He doesn't bite.” I snapped a few more pictures. I decided I wanted to document moments for their anniversary and combine them with a video of them throughout their marriage.
“Anthony, tell your girlfriend to hurry up.” Rolling my eyes at my sister, Heaven. I took a couple more shots.
“Why are you acting like my girl, ain’t your sister.” They continued bantering at each other, they argued like they were related. But I knew it was just because they were really good friends. They worked together and when I was dropping off her food, I met him.
“Anyway, let's get to the airport.” Heaven said. She’s been having an attitude ever since me and Anthony walked into the house.
“Just take your ass to the car, you're killing the mood honestly.”
“Hey! What I say about y'all cursing in front of me?” Apologetic, I put away my camera and told everyone to let me talk to Heaven. I don’t need her ruining mama and daddy’s special week. This was about them and any issues she had going on could be left in the states.
“Heaven, what’s up? This little attitude you got upsetting me and so I know it’s upsetting mama.”
“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be bringing him around the family?”
“What’s wrong with him? We've been together for a year, hell you know him so what’s the issue.” She couldn’t look me in the eyes, instead she looked out to the street. Something was on her mind and i couldn tell that it was eating at her soul. I wanted to pry, make her tell me what was wrong. She’ll tell me eventually.
“Nothing’s wrong with him, it's just that I haven’t been around you in a long time. I really missed you and I wanted this to be me and you time not fucking anthony time.”
“I know I’ve been busy with Anthony, but come on I haven’t had a man since you know…”
“Oh yeah Dev, your summer boo thing. You were wrapped up with him all the time, sneaking off to the cave.” She had to bring him up, I’m surprised she remembered because we never were in her presence that long before we were out doing our own thing. She was always out with his sister doing their thing.
“Don’t bring him up! I don’t want Anthony to know about him, he might start getting insecure, he’s a very jealous dude.”
“I don’t understand why you like his ass anyway, he’s so annoying at work.”
“That’s because he doesn't let you slack off the way I know you want to. But I really like him, he makes me happy.”
“And what about Dev? What if we see him in Malta, your ass is gonna be in trouble.”
“It’s been 7 years, he probably forgot about me.” I hoped he did, even if I thought about him almost every year around the summer, just wondering what he’s been up to. Of course I missed him like a lover, but before he was someone I wanted that way. He was a friend, he had dreams and fears. We talked about it all. I missed my friend.
“No one forgets their first love sister.” She was right. Dev would always be that memory in the back of my mind, but it was time to move on and seek some happiness instead of clinging to a lost love. It was just really hard to do that thing.
Warnings: mentions of sex (m/receiving), mentions of oral sex (m/f receiving), mentions of drinking (alcohol), mentions of violence (fighting), use of guns (implied, espionage (implied)
Summary: You met a handsome stranger in your ew adopted city of New Orleans, Louisiana one night in a bar where your casual one night stand with a mysterious Dev Patel turns into a casual recurring thing. Little do you know your casual one night stand turns out to be someone who would rather stay in the shadows but can’t seem to stay away from you. Will Dev’s “government job” threaten what the two of you have or will one day he walk out of your life entirely?
Inspo: These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)-Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
The soft splattering sound of rain wakes you up from your slumber, lightning illuminating the candle lit room before the boom of thunder hits. Turning in the bed you reach out your hand to find the space empty, the warm body that occupied it has long since left and the sheets cold to the touch.
Laying your cheek to your pillow, you inhale the scent of the cologne you’ve come accustomed to, hoping to hold onto it a little longer before you’re forced to wash it away yet again from your skin, your lips, clothes, and bed, only to be replaced by yet more memories of a man whom you barely know, yet whose body you’ve explored and learned like maps in books.
A muffled sound catches your attention from outside your bedroom. Grabbing your sheets in your hands you place them strategically around your body, getting up smoothly and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You start to feel the aches and pains from earlier in the night as you stretch out your worn out body.
Taking a deep breath, you stand on wobbly legs and bring yourself to the open window, glancing outside at the balcony, the New Orleans architecture awash in heavy rainfall. The usual summer heat has been stifled by a warm rain. Somewhere in the distance somebody is playing jazz music typical of New Orleans, a trumpet or saxophone playing harmoniously, the soul of the city being bared to all who will listen. Reaching your hand out, you catch a few raindrops in your hand and feel the warmth on your skin before letting them fall onto the floor. Grabbing the shutters, you secure them shut and go in search of the mysterious noise you heard earlier.
Your small living room is dimly lit by a small lamp in the corner, you stop to stare at him, catching him lost in thought for the nth time, his features contorted into a small scowl as he peeks out into the streets, his long fingers pulling your window blinds back. He’s dressed in only his boxers, his long hair pushed back out of his face. Your record player croons These Foolish Things (Remind Me Of You), Ella Fitzgerald’s voice carries through the room as you continue to look on.
Dev Patel, or that’s at least the name you’ve come to know him by, continues to look out the window. Walking gently over to him, you make sure not to startle him as you press your cheek to his back, inhaling his scent.
You had just moved to New Orleans, Louisiana, you needed, rather wanted, a new start. Your life had felt like it’d become mundane, doing the same thing over and over again. The faces of people in your hometown melded together and finally you’d had enough, wanting to escape the place you’d called home for so many years. All you knew was that you needed to go out into the world and discover it for yourself, and for your sanity at that.
Packing up your things, you made the decision to move to New Orleans. You’d been in love with the city for as long as you could remember, everything from the culture, the food, the history and architecture. It wasn’t long before you became adapted to your new chosen home.
It had been close to a year, a night dissimilar to tonight's when you’d met Dev. The New Orleans summer heat had been sweltering, the humid hot and heavy in the air, putting on a simple outfit you decided to go to your favorite bar, Arnaud's French 75. Once there you are greeted by the head bartender Chris, he doesn’t even have to ask you for your drink order before he begins to make it as you find a place to sit. Soon enough the drink is placed in front of you and you thank Chris, taking a sip.
You look around the bar, yet again finding yourself admiring the 20th century decorum that still brings in people from around the world. You’re on your second drink of the night when you notice him at first, the tall man who seems to be trying to blend into the background, yet standing out in a way that siren calls to you from a distance. You can’t help but to notice his height first, his long legs and torso that seems to go on and on. His hair is long and facial hair neat, a contrast to the gorgeous suit he’s wearing that makes him look like a rebel yet distinguished all at the same time.
You can’t seem to take your eyes off of him as you sip on your drink, roaming over his body and admiring it all, his movements sure and graceful as he takes a swig of his beer. Eventually his eyes meet yours when they finally make it up to his face and yours instantly becomes hot as you’re caught red handed at staring. Immediately turning in your seat, you down what’s left in your glass and order another, this time making it a double.
Throughout the rest of the night, you chat with other patrons of the bar and catch up with some fellow regulars, all the while stealing glances in his direction. He never stays in one place for too long, always in a different spot once you finally lock your eyes on his location. Once you think you’re the hunter, the skin on the back of your neck raises as the animalistic awareness becomes evident you’ve turned into the prey.
As the last call is rung out, you try to flag down one of the bartenders when you nonchalantly look over your shoulder to get a last look at the stranger, but to your dismay he’s gone. Looking around the room, you can’t seem to find him, craning your head to search the rest of the room but shaking it off it looks like he had disappeared. Damn you and your staring, you’d been brought up to know it was rude, but something was drawing you to this man that wouldn’t let it go.
A final drink was placed in front of you and you looked at it purplexed. “Excuse me, there must be some mistake, I didn’t order this.”
“This one is on me,” a familiar full looking glass sat next to it. You didn’t have to look up at his face to know who it was, the sleeve of his suit proof enough. Somehow he was on the opposite side of where you’d last seen him, somehow escaping your searching. Handing the bartender cash as he looked down at you. “Actually, add her tab to mine.” His brown eyes looked amused, a small smirk adorning his lips. You hadn’t expected his accent, yet it intoxicated you more than the drinks you’d had.
“No, not tonight I’m afraid. I got it” you retorted, handing over your card after fishing it from your purse. The bartender looked from you to him and back, wondering if there would be a counter from him. When he didn’t get one, he left with the promise to be back shortly with your card and receipt as you pushed the final drink forward.
“It’s a shame I couldn’t buy you a drink tonight.”
“I’m not, I’m not exactly sure what having to pay you back entails” you quip back. If your mother was there, she would have scowled you for being rude.
“Fair enough. Dev Patel” he said, extending his hand out to you and taking a sip of his own drink. You looked at it briefly before taking it in your hand and offering your own name in return. Before you know it, your check was placed in front of you. Signing the receipt, you pushed it forward and grabbed your things.
“Do you mind if I accompany you out?” He asked before finishing his drink. Before you can protest, he had picked up your jacket and helped you into it. He indicates for you to lead the way and he follows without a word, his hand finding its way to the small of your back.
Making your way out of the bar, he doesn’t speak, only gives you a glance here and there, his demeanor almost as if he’s constantly on high alert. His hyper vigilance makes your head swim, you can feel your body reacting to him. Your nipples grow hard, you can feel your pussy lips slick and wet, your panties sticking to your skin. Your heart races the closer you get to the exit,the warmth from his hand turning your body ablaze.
Looking back on that day, you’re not exactly sure who made the first move, but one moment you reached the street and the next he had pulled you to the side, his mouth slanting over yours. He commanded the first kiss, your body moved instinctively with his as he pushed you against the wall into the shadows. Unspoken words from his body had said everything that he hadn’t yet: raw, animalistic, carnal lust. His tall body encased yours and made it hard to breathe.
He finally let you up for air, running your tongue along your lips, you tasted him on them as you tried to catch your breath. He mirrored you, his thumb replacing his tongue even as he rolled his body into yours. You gasped feeling his erection through both of your clothes and something else. He stared into your eyes with curiosity, uncertain of what your next actions would be. Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard the warning bells but it flew out the window when he grabbed your chin and brought his lips back to yours. He swallowed a whimper that escaped from your lips, his warm hands trailing up the inside of your thigh before pulling you away from the wall.
Your place is closer, your steps hurried as the two of you made your way there. Once inside, your clothes were thrown about one way or another. The minutes passed in wanton sexual bliss, every part of your body had been touched and carcassed throughly.
Sometime in the early morning, he’d gotten up, his movements quiet and certain as he dressed himself and left, no promises to return or to make plans for the future, a night that would be for the two of you, and only you. One night with a man whose name you barely remembered made you brazen, so unlike the woman you thought you recognized in the mirror.
Several days later you decided to try your hand at Arnaud’s again, as soon as you sat down your drink was placed in front of you without having to order. That familiar prickle of being watched tickled your spine. Looking around, you caught a familiar set of eyes looking back at you. He had raised his glass in acknowledgement and you the same. Thus the cat and mouse game between you two was set.
The two of you would meet at Arnaud’s, if he was in town which you never knew. If your drink would be already ordered and placed in front of you, it meant that he was in New Orleans, never a call, never a random show up at your front door At the end of the night, he’d take you home and the two of you would spend hours between your sheets, or any surface for that matter.
In all that time, Dev still remained much of a mystery to you as the first time you’d met. You knew his name, or the name that he had given you, that he supposedly worked for his country’s government, in an office no less. What intrigued you the most was that every time you saw him, he always had fresh bruises or cuts on him. Old cuts and scars line his body as well, your hands immediately running over them in the calm of the night. He never told you how he received them, he brushed them off as easily as you mentioned them. Sometimes he’d be taking calls on his cell in hushed tones at odd hours of the night, you’d even swear he’d answered and called himself a different name. Or even the concealed gun you know he carries.
He’s as closed off as an ancient book, he never offered more than what was asked about his life, his job, the future. In truth, some part of you didn’t want to know, perhaps that was another reason why you preferred whatever the two of you had just the way it was. He was a part of your new life that you didn’t mind keeping just to yourself.
“Did the storm wake you up?” He asks, his English accent gruff, running his thumb on the hand that you wrapped around his waist.
“A little bit, but it was more of finding you not there. Your side of the bed was cold, I figured you’d left by now” you reply. It wasn’t uncommon for him to leave in the middle of the nights, his visits were varied and you never knew when he would come back. “Did the storm wake you up?”
He turns his head and looks down at you before nodding, taking in your features before turning his head back to the window. You couldn’t help but to notice the new various bruises on his body, some a couple of days old by the color adorning his tall stature. Pulling your hand away from his waist your fingers dance along some of his scars, their movements gentle and deliberate as they trace them yet again. He holds his breath, intentionally or not, until you're done and he lets out a harsh breath through his nose. You’d always wanted to ask him about them, but a part of you felt like it was part of a past or even reality he didn’t, couldn’t, or wanted to speak of. Funny thing about that, the ghosts of the past trying to break through into the realm of the living.
“Come back to bed with me Dev, it’s late, or…” squinting at the clock on your wall to read the time, “early, depending on how you see it” you say. Another round of thunder and lightning light up the night sky.
“Can’t sleep, the storm will keep me up.”
“How about some food then, I’m sure we can order something for takeaway.”
“I’m not really hungry for food,” he says, your clit jumps at the way his voice sounds at the word hungry. Your body suddenly comes alive, the sleep washed away by the awakening of wanting his body yet again. He turns around to face you, and you can tell he can feel the sudden shifting of the mood.
He steps towards you and you take one back, he h j ithkoj I’ll again and until you remain just out of his arms reach. The back of your legs suddenly hit the arm of the couch and you realize he’s got you cornered. He extends his arm and grips the sheet, tugging on it once, twice before it finally falls to the floor.
He carcasses your face gently, taking it in as more lightning flashes through the room. He brings his hand down to your neck and lower to your breasts, delighting in the way they feel in his hands. Using one hand, he gently pushes you back, enough until you’re bent over the arm, feet on the floor and your back on the cushions. By this time, you’re panting with anticipation with what he’ll do to you.
You don’t have to wait long before he’s crouched down, pulling your legs apart and blows air on your wet lips. Gasping, your hands immediately grip his hair. His skilled tongue laps at your folds, his nose brushing against your clit before he suckles it into his mouth. He pushes one of his long fingers into you causing your back to arch, calloused fingers attuned to your body. He uses his mouth and fingers to bring you to the edge and quickly change the pace or direction.
Never one to beg, he has you on the verge of tears, whining, screaming, moaning, panting, anything to let you cum. He removes his finger from inside you before using both his hands to hold your hips down. Your body begins to tingle and you feel like you’re literally seeing stars as a powerful orgasm rips through your body, a growl escaping his lips in approval as he uses his tongue to prolong your release. You can still feel the aftershocks, even as he brings his head back slightly and your face flushes as he gently removes your hands from his head before kissing your pussy sweetly.
Standing up to his full length, he grasps both of your thighs in his hands and pulls your bottom half closer to him, the action causing your back to slide on the cushions. His cock is hard, formidable looking in his hand and you desperately want it in your mouth again, wanting the brutal force of it hitting the back of your throat again and again, the delicious ache that sets in your jaw after a night. He uses one hand to run the tip of his cock through your slickness until he’s satisfied it’s coated. He guides himself inside of you and even though he’s had you countless times before, every encounter feels different, and this time is no different. You never get used to the feeling of him penetrating you, the stretching feeling of his cock being enveloped one inch at a time.
His hands return to the back of your thighs and you let out a pained gasp, his hands widening your legs to allow him to go deeper. He’s never been this deep before, his buttocks tightening and pulling your legs further apart and you swear you can feel him in your abdomen, your eyes snap open, seeing the dark craving written on his face. He pulls out to the tip and then pushes back in, feeling you squeeze him when he’s all the way back in. His tempo is slow and measured, in and out, in and out.
Leaning forward, he drops one leg and brings the other around his hips. His other hand found its way to your neck, holding your head partially to the side, his fingers spread across your skin, squeezing gently.
Bending his head, he takes your mouth in a savage kiss, his hand slipping down to your folds and his thumb pressing hard on your clit. Your inner walls tightened around his cock like a fist, and you moaned into his mouth.
Drawing back for a second, you stare up at him, lips swollen and shiny. Both your bodies are sweaty, the scent of sex filling the air. Another loud crack of thunder cracks overhead. Leaning down, he kisses you again, more gently this time, even as he began thrusting with a smooth, steady tempo. You can tell he’s close, the way he’s thrusting into you quicker and quicker.
Closing your eyes, you let the sensations wash over your body, reveling in his taste, in the feel of his skin under your fingers... in the rigid cock thrusting into you over and over again. And just when the pleasure became too intense, your toes curl and your back arches, convulsing around him with a soft cry, sending him over the edge. He spills into you over and over again in hot ribbons, coating your walls. His body collapses onto you, his body weight holding you down.
Eventually the storm dissipates, the record player still playing softly in the background. You feel yourself being lifted sometime in the early morning. The rays of the new day cast a soft glow through the windows, you’re laid gently in your bed, soft blankets pulled around you.
It’s these moments that you love the most when you’re with him, not wondering if you’ll wake up to an empty cold bed, whether or not he’ll be closed off or open up to you in the future. Whether or not this will be the last time you went to Arnaud’s and a drink placed in front of you. Or if the reason why he always came to you bruised and halfway healed would wind up killing him in the end. But the two of you were here together, here, now.
A beat passed in the conversation and your tongue darted out to lick coffee from the corner of your mouth. You watched his eyes track the action as he took a slow, deep breath.
"Careful," you cooed, swiveling the chair around to redirect your attention back to your computer, "wouldn't want You-Know-Who to get mad, again.” You took another drink from the plastic cup and smiled subtly to yourself, peeking at him over your shoulder.
"I don't particularly understand it, it's not like she has anything to worry about. Right, D?"
