half awake and thinking about making roman roy ride a pillow in front of you as punishment 😵💫
it was roughly 2 am when he’d waltzed into your suite, drunk and needy. he didn’t have to say a word. you could tell by the twinkle in his eye and the throbbing vein that was practically popping out of his forehead. shamelessly stealing a drink from your mini fridge, drinking it as if it would ease the heat pooling in his stomach.
you were already pissy at him (which he loved) due to some interesting words that he threw at you during a meeting, and an important one at that. something along the lines of, “yeah, no, let the fuckin’ she-demon take the reigns. see how far that takes you.” he was glaring eager daggers into you the entire time, scoffing when you merely swallowed the bitter urge to bite back at him. he definitely didn’t get turned on at the way your voice twinged and cracked with frustration each time he’d cut you off. or by how you blatantly ignored him. no way.
“what do you want, romulus?” you groaned, spitting out the name. you knew it would make him wince. “oh, i’m sorry. can i not visit daddy’s favorite assistant?” he drew out the words just to watch you clench your jaw. you hated when he called you that. you made it your number one priority to avoid logan as much as possible. “you weren’t complaining about my glorious surprises last week.” he added slyly, a saccharine grin gracing his mouth. “last week” referencing when he’d snuck into your room and sloppily lapped at your cunt until he was rutting into your silk sheets and you were sure your hands were soaked in his hair gel from tugging on his locks so much.
“dick.” you replied, half-joking, getting up to walk closer to him nonetheless. “oh yeah?” he responded, snarkily as ever, just to watch your nostrils flare. he peered up at you through his eyelashes, a desperate, tempting slime puppy seated in an odd position on your bed. his legs spread instinctually as he sat on the corner of the bedframe, leaning back onto his hands, smirking when you stood between his meaty thighs. so convinced he had you wrapped around his finger.
“we can’t do this anymore. i’m worried your father will find out.” you deadpanned, watching pure betrayal wash over his face. god, was he sulking? “are you fucking kidding me?” he whined, with zero regard to the time of night; throwing his head back grandiosely, practically pouting. wordlessly, you reached out to cup his jaw, the pad of your thumb running over his bottom lip. “maybe you’d like that, though.” your voice fell to a whisper that made him flinch, and suddenly he was holding his breath. “nasty fuck that you are.” the words fell in a righteous laugh, a laugh that screamed: “we both know i’m right.” you peeked down to the forming semi under his pajama pants, clicking your tongue in amusement.
“is that it?” you cooed. “want everyone to hear what disgusting shit you’re into?” you forced his chin up, the uncomfortable crane in his neck making him flush. he was exposed, unintentionally barring his neck to you. you took the opportunity to suck on the pale flesh above his collarbone, working your way up to his ear. “answer me.” you pressed a knee to his growing cock. his response was a pathetic “yeah” and a furrow in his brow, to which you scoffed and pulled away at.
“yeah?” you mocked, watching his eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. he got harder. you grabbed a pillow from behind him, purposefully pressing it down to his lap. “why don’t you give me a show, rome?” you pulled away completely, grabbing a chair and sliding it up to the bed. his eyes widened once again as if he’d been betrayed, when in reality he was just a spoiled little thing.
when he hesitated to move, you groaned in annoyance: “i don’t have all night. are you that stupid already?” he rolled his eyes, situating the pillow between his clothed legs. you stopped him. “you know i want to see you.” you crooned, watching his face flush even darker. “let me see your pretty little cock.” the dirty praise made look down at his trembling hands, grumbling a “shut up.” still, he obeyed, freeing his dick from the confines of his luxurious pajama pants. you couldn’t help yourself, letting out an “aw” at how eager he was. he groaned in embarrassment once more.
“don’t be too loud. or do. i don’t really care.” you chuckled. when he looked at you with utter humiliation in his eyes, you signaled for him to hurry up with your finger. “what, you think i’m joking? you dumb boy.” you spat out the word like a curse, and his hips stuttered helplessly. “oh, that’s what gets you going, right? being told how worthless you are?” it was odd how naturally the words fell from your mouth, and sent electricity shooting through his body.
he shakily, messily pistoned his hips against the pillow, the flushed pink tip of his cock a beautiful contrast to the cool white pillow. “no wonder you don’t know how to fuck.” you muttered under your breath, watching him fall forward with an especially hard thrust at the claim. the prettiest whines and curses escaped his throat, messy agreements to your words littered throughout. the way his hips rolled and stuttered made you grin, and heat pooled in your stomach with each new level of depravity he reached.
“you’re just such a shameless bitch, aren’t you, roman?” you hummed, leaning in a little, admiring him. he could feel your eyes burning holes into his back. he gripped at the pillow beneath him. “fucking that thing like your life depends on it. it’s pathetic, you know?” he gasped, his eyes falling shut once more: “i know- i know.” his voice didn’t even sound like his own, all high-pitched and wanton. his cock twitched when he heard himself. his thrusts got even messier, forcing himself to keep going through the tingling stimulation on his drooling cock. he hissed, his head falling back to reveal his adam’s apple covered in your drying saliva. you bit the inside of your cheek at the sight, a predatory glimmer in your eyes.
“depraved little shit.” you practically laughed out, watching him so focused on reaching his orgasm. his eyes were glued to his cock, trying so desperately to get there by himself. “can’t make yourself finish?” you teased, watching his eyes prickle with tears in frustration. “that’s just too bad, huh? it’ll be nice to watch you actually work for something for a change.” he whined again at your words
