verse: cougar!robyn + young!chris
headcanon: stuck in an arranged marriage for the last several years, robyn fenty-graham decides to take her wedding anniversary vacation alone, after finding out something shocking about her husband. there, she meets a local, christopher, and they hit it off after first touch.
pairings: chrianna / aubrihanna / dricki
verse: touch
note: this is in robyn's pov for the fic itself, and this is also a draft. it's like seven pages, 3k words total. the prompts i did were in third person, but i'm not sure which pov i want to stick with so bear with me lol.
ALSO - I THINK I POSTED THIS HERE BUT I'M NOT SURE??? IDK.. I POSTED IT ON WORDPRESS THOUGH...
I N T R O
I’ve been up for at least fifteen minutes before the discreet vibrating alarm I’ve set to go off. I know that getting out of bed will be a challenge without interrupting the body next to mines, and that’s the hard part about it all.
It doesn’t stop me from looking though. Sometimes, I get caught up in his looks. And like always, looking leads to touching. My lithe fingertips danced along his café au lait skin, across feathery eyebrows and draped eyelids with a curtain of dark eyelashes without him stirring.
He’s really attractive, and it’s one of the things that drew me towards him when I first met him several years ago. My fingers roam across his face, and they travel downward to ghost along the bridge of a perfectly sculpted nose, and then dip down to faintly parted lips that expelled warm air onto my hand.
I mess with his face just to see if he’s knocked out hard enough for me to get out of bed. It’s part of my routine. Getting out of here before he gets up is done at least four times a week though, and to be honest, it’s the only bit of spontaneity I have in life. I’ve even developed it into a game, just to see how long it’ll take for me to shower and get dressed before he gets up.
It’s really getting old though.
Falling into a lifestyle of the tedious was never my life’s plan.
Yet, every day had been a monotonous transition into the next, a recurrent set of pre-planned and expected events to eat up the fifteen hours of the day that I didn’t spend sleeping, showering, or eating the required three daily meals.
I keep looking at the body next to me, attempting to eat up the minutes until my alarm starts to vibrate. He looks alluring and beautiful, the faint sunlight hitting him at a sharp angle and creating abrupt shadows across his face and body.
I’m in too deep; this I know.
Still, I’m on a schedule, and I have to keep moving. As I start to slip out of the bed, he starts to shift. I curse lowly under my breath.
“Shit.”
“Please, one more kiss,” he whispers, his lips barely moving, and for a moment, I believe he’s talking in his sleep.
Within seconds, his hand is on the back of my neck suddenly; without a choice, I follow the guiding motion down to meet his mouth because I know he’s expecting it. It’s over quick, especially as I distract him by dragging my hand down his chest and pressing my free hand into his hipbone as I cover him, and stealthily roll over him.
It’s the only way for this to work, and it shouldn’t be like this. That could be said for a lot of things in terms of our relationship together.
As I slip out of the expensive sheets, unhook his thigh from my thigh and scurry down the hallway in nothing but skin, I know that I’ll probably be half-way across the floor before he wakes up fully.
It still won’t stop me from looking back though, but I’m on a schedule here, so I opt out of it. I feel crummy, messy, and still covered in the aftermath of celebratory sex from the night before. The multi-massage showerhead is requesting my presence, and I’m going to make use of the vibrating head and submit to multiple orgasms through masturbating before I get my day started.
It’s only right, after last night.
All I can honestly remember was coming back here and having my dress slip off of my body like running water. There was an aim then; something I really wanted. Expecting, really…
It was long and drawn out, just like he liked it. Bordering on being utterly tantric, and tiring the hell out of me, which was a shock, considering all of the energy I had stored up due to misuse outside of exercising.
He did everything he was supposed to, and what I wanted him to, but still, it only placated me temporarily. It’s not what I think about in the shower though, while the water rushes over me and the massaging showerhead makes it worth the seventy five dollar price tag.
I don’t get there though, because soon I hear him in the bathroom, fumbling blindly around and the long, drawn out sound of him emptying his bladder outside of the stained glass door.
While I hear him starting up the shower on the opposite side of the bathroom, I’m already slinking down the hall, trying not to get caught up.
But the water stops, and I know I’m caught.
“What are you doing?” The voice chilled me to the core in comparison to a few hours ago, when it was all I wanted to hear. I roll my eyes without turning to face him, and lick my lips as I dip towards the bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” I could feel his presence across the room, and after dropping my towel at the door, I stood quickly without covering myself up and started shoving my body into my clothes.
“Do you have to ask me so many questions? It’s seven in the morning. Time’s up. I’m leaving.” I reply, and he makes a long and loud sound of exasperation.
“What about breakfast? I could get you something out on the table within seconds.” I hear him move and the swish of his expensive sheets as they hit the floor. I shake my head and keep getting dressed.
Right now, I’m just not in the mood for anything. I’m reeling from something amazing and powerful, but at the same time, I hate how I feel. I hate how this feels.
Every morning after should not feel like this. I kept my eyes focused on my task, which at the moment, was getting out of this master suite. Every remnant of last night seemed to hover of my head like the dust that swirled around from the misuse of the curtains that hid the sunlight from the dark parts of the room.
“You don’t want an omelet? No coffee? Not even fruit?” He continued to try and coax me to stay longer, but he knew my routine.
The tip of my toes hit the front of my heels and I stood tall and started to quickly button my shirt without looking back over my shoulder. I could hear him moving behind me, but my gaze was fixed on my thighs and shimmying back into my skirt.
He was hovering behind me now, and in the mirror in front of me, I could see his reflection. I closed my eyes as he gripped me from behind and wrapped his arms around me. I pushed his hands down as politely as possible, and turned towards him.
“I don’t want anything, okay?” I repeated, slowly and calmly as I could.
He quirked his eyebrow up and shrugged, and finally turned on the balls of his feet as I slid my flats onto my feet and grabbed my phone and car keys from the neighboring dresser.
The one thing I did manage not to grab was my wedding band off of the dresser that was lying in a heap with the rest of last night’s jewelry. It just seemed so unnecessary, and I had a statement to make.
I had to get to work; ties such as those could absolutely wait until later to be addressed. Besides, Aubrey would understand. We’ve been enduring this arrangement for almost seven years. He had no choice but to understand by now.
“Well. I mean, we could get a room change,” He winked at her as she shook her head gently and looked up at the mess of a headboard.
“We put a crack in it,” She assessed as he looked up and she watched his brows draw up and his shoulders to shrug.
“They’re definitely going to charge me for it.” She pouted for the first time since she had gotten back from the club, and he scoffed loudly.
He rolled over on top of her and chuckled, gripping her hip underneath him and parting her legs again as his body sank between the given space.
“But you’re an executive, right? A woman of power. With endless riches,” he repeated the same words she enticed him with as he kissed up her neck and slid back into her.
“Money ain’t a thang. So, we broke the headboard and we’re gonna fuck the sheets up, the frame…have to flip the mattress, all that.” He moved away from her neck and tilted her face to look at him.
“Your husband ever fuck you like that, Mrs. Graham?”
