Author's Note: Oh hey guys. So here's an RPF for you… I probably shouldn't post it here, but whatever, I'm a rebel. I'm not really gonna babble, so I'll just say thank you to siarh and Rhanon Brodie for giving this a looksie. Go read their stuff after you're done here. It's even better. :-D
Disclaimer: While I don't mention any name, it's not too hard to figure out to whom I'm referring. Obviously, he doesn't belong to me. If that changes… well… I can only imagine the things I'd write… Oh and also, this is fiction. Sadly.
Also, this is smut. If you don't like, turn back now! Otherwise, enjoy. :-D
You haven't seen each other in over a month.
That thought flits through your mind as you stand by the baggage claim in the airport, waiting to lay your eyes on him. You tighten your hands on the handle of your carry on and thoughtfully chew your lower lip. For the past several weeks, you've been on opposite coasts, living your own lives. You would have come sooner, but there was always something that got in the way... family and work obligations for you, business and movie commitments for him. Finally, the stars aligned and you were able to find an affordable plane ticket… well, as far as you know it was affordable… he had taken care of the cost.
"You're my girl, gotta take care of you."
You remember his drawl over the phone line when you tried to convince him to let you wire the money to cover the ticket. You've always hated when he treated you like a kept woman. The argument quickly turned to heavy breathing and filthy promises, the way most of your conversations went the longer you were apart.
You wipe your hand over your brow, already anticipating the California heat. You bounce on the balls of your feet anxiously, glancing at the watch on your wrist. You've always hated this part… the waiting. More often than not you're greeted with a man with a sign, your name scribbled across. Sometimes it's expected. Other times, he promises to pick you up, but like all parts of your relationship, the unexpected happens… you can only hope he hasn't gotten held up at the academy or on set…
Your eyes sweep to the other side of the carousel and a relieved smile pulls at your mouth as you settle your gaze on him. He's as handsome as ever, his sunglasses over his eyes, a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead. You wave at him almost shyly as he shoves his way through the crowd, sweeping you up in a tight hug when he reaches you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he spins you both in a circle.
"Good Lord, I missed you," he mutters into the side of your neck, his arms still tight around you, your feet dangling off the ground.
You've never really understood the uniform kink.
Sure, a man in some sort of uniform can have an appeal, but it's never been something that would get your motor running if you will.
Until he came into your life... black belt and all.
You're not even sure you could call gi a "uniform". But he wears it well. Maybe too well. It's really the only reason you're so willing to come sit through his lessons. Well, that and you get to be reminded of his… flexibility…
You sit in the stands watching him demonstrate a final hold to his class, calling out instructions that even after all this time you can't begin to understand, often to his chagrin. His dog is curled up beside you, quietly snoring and whimpering as she dreams.
"And I'll see you cats on Thursday! Don't forget to practice the new set of moves!"
You cradle your chin in your hand, watching as he talks to each student on their way out, every now and then his eyes flickering back to you, the corner of his mouth lifting in that familiar devilish smirk. You chew your lower lip, your eyes moving to your feet, your fingers sliding through the hair on the dog's neck.
You glance up at the sound of your name, your eyes meeting his. You realize the room is empty and it's just the two of you as he crooks his finger, jerking his head to the side. You purse your lips and narrow your eyes playfully.
"Get your ass in my office," he snarls quietly, his voice echoing through the room as he walks backwards towards the door in the corner, his gaze never wavering… smoldering... He stops in the doorway, leaning his hip against the frame, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his muscles tense as though he will pounce the moment you get close enough.
You slowly rise to your feet and start down the bleachers. You glance back over your shoulder at the jingle of a collar. The dog eyes you curiously, head tilted to the side.
"Don't worry about the girl," he calls from behind you. You turn your head to see him fiddling with the knot on his black belt and you swallow thickly. "We won't be long," he promises, his gaze raking over you, making you that much more aware of how thin the fabric of your dress is.
You swallow hard again and feel a rush between your thighs at the look in his eye. The look that promises that while it will be hard and fast and by no means gentle, you'll like it as you always do. As you move closer, the smell that is so him floats into your nostrils and a shudder runs down your spine. Even after all these years, he still has the same affect on you that he did when he bought you that drink when you first met... maybe even stronger than before.
Once you're in arms' reach, his fingers wrap tightly around your wrist, pulling you into his office. You both let out a soft grunt as your bodies collide, your soft curves against his hard planes of muscle, and he quickly seals his mouth to yours, his other hand pulling the door shut behind you, pressing your back hard against the wood. You barely register the sound of the blinds snapping shut to block the window and a lock turning as his lips move over yours and his tongue maps every reachable corner of your mouth. Your own fingers fold in the heavy cotton of his sweat soaked gi and you try to bring him impossibly closer, almost as if to fuse your body to his.
You suck in a sharp breath between clenched teeth as you feel the heated steel of his cock hard underneath his trousers.
"Didn't think that lesson would ever end," he growls into your ear as his mouth moves to your neck, his teeth gently nipping at the skin just hard enough that you're sure to see the mark in the morning.
You let out a breathy agreement, moaning softly as he sucks at your collarbone, his hands at your hips, bunching into the fabric of your cotton dress before shoving it into the elastic band of your panties. As you move your hand between you, he smacks it away and gives you a look. You pout at the unfairness, that he won't let you touch him, won't let your hands explore while his own move over each and every part of you.
His lips curl into an almost evil smirk as his hand quickly dives under the lace of your panties and his fingers slide over your clit.
You breath his name before sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, exhaling through your nose as his fingers move lower and he sinks one into you.
"Look at me," he orders, his voice low. You force your eyes open as he moves his hand between your legs hard and fast. His finger moves just how he knows you like it, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit.
"Put your hands above your head," he continues, his blue eyes burning into yours. You swallow and slowly raise your arms, stretching to curl your fingers over the top of the frame, your toes barely managing to touch the ground.
"That's right, sugar," he purrs in approval, shoving a knee between your legs to spread them even farther apart, slipping another finger into the tightness of your cunt. "This pussy belongs to Daddy, doesn't it?"
You let out a loud exhale through your nose, your lips pressed tightly together as you nod in agreement. He lifts his hand, his black belt coming into view.
"Might wanna bite this," he advises, pressing the heavy cotton against your lips as he slowly withdraws his hand from you.
You can't help but whimper, your eyes wide as the fabric slides between your teeth, the taste of his sweat bursting over your tongue. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, pushing his trousers down his hips. He slides his still wet fingers over himself before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock. Your teeth clench into the fabric, your own fingers tightening as he shoves the crotch of your panties to the side.
His cock thrusts into you and the air is sucked out of your lungs. The two of you have fucked in every position imaginable (and some that are probably illegal in certain states), but the one thing that doesn't change is how full you feel when he's inside you. Your cunt wraps around him like a glove, an almost perfect fit, like you were molded as a casing just for him.
"You always feel so good around my cock, darlin'," he snarls, his palm pressed against the door behind you for leverage. "Watch how I fuck you, sweetheart," he continues, his other hand squeezing at your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh.
You can't help but pant, saliva soaking into the piece of clothing still clamped between your teeth. Your eyes drag down his body, landing on where you're joined. You can't help the muffled moan that escapes as he pulls out, the head of his cock dragging against the spongy patch of nerves inside you. Your mouth waters as his prick comes into view and all you want is to wrap your lips around him, sucking him down to the root until he explodes down your throat.
You shriek behind the cloth as he slams back inside you and your head whips back, slamming into the door.
He lets out a dark chuckle as he thrusts inside over and over, carrying you higher and higher. He whispers filthy compliments in your ear, telling you how you never look better than when you're wrapped around his cock, that your cunt belongs only to him… He mutters all the things he wants to do to you, how he's fucked his own hand thinking about you since you've been gone…
As you tighten around him and you feel your orgasm barrelling towards you, he pulls out, his cock slapping against his stomach. You nearly howl in disapproval as your climax melts away. You look at him, your eyes wild and filled with fury.
With a smirk, he pulls his trousers back into place, straightening his uniform and running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. He reaches forward and pulls his black belt from your teeth, wrapping it around his fist. He pulls the bottom of your dress out from from your panties, letting the fabric fall back to your thighs.
"Go home and wait for me," he orders quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before taking a step back and leaning against the desk behind him.
You breathe heavily, staring at him, your body twitching. These are the times that you hate him and he knows it. But he also knows that you'll get over it and you won't withhold anything from him. Your self control is nonexistent when it comes to him.
"Take the dog with you," he continues, reaching behind him and grabbing a piece of paper, glancing over it. He's the picture of calm and if it weren't for the smell in the air, the ache between your thighs and the almost obscene bulge between his, you'd wonder if you had dreamt it all.
You curse him before yanking the door open and stalking back into the room, clucking your tongue at the dog and making your way out of his academy, realizing as you step onto the sidewalk how you must look. Your fingers tighten around the leash, your cheeks aflame as you make the walk to his home.
His bed smells like him… you notice this as you carefully lay down, resting your head against the plush pillows, the skin of your bare legs skimming against the 800 thread count Egyptian cotton. You let out a quiet sigh of contentment, inhaling the scent of his cologne against the pillowcase.
His dog jumps onto the bed, curling up at your hip. You absently glide your fingers through her fur, your eyes on the ceiling as you contemplate when he may be home, how long he'll make you wait after getting you so worked up…
You don't realize you doze off until the dog jumps off the bed, her nails clicking against the hardwood floors as she makes her way to the front door. You contemplate going to greet him as well, but you realize you have a better way to welcome him home.
You slowly drag your hand up your inner thigh, the pads of your fingers tickling the skin, making your breath hitch. You glide your fingers over the crotch of your panties and you can't help but shiver as you feel how wet you still are, even through the fabric. It's a wonder what one man can do to you, the reactions he can elicit from your body.
Planting your feet flat on the bed, you move your legs apart, slipping your fingers under your underwear, rubbing your finger over your clit, flicking it back and forth. Your eyes flutter shut, his smirk appearing behind your eyelids and you imagine it's his fingers teasing you like this.
You can't help the quiet moan that escapes your lips that turns into his name. You turn your head, pressing your face into the pillow, the fingers on your other hand gripping the case tightly.
Even through your haze, you hear the bedroom door click shut and you notice the smell of cologne gets stronger, mixing with the smell of his sweat. He hasn't showered. That shouldn't make you even wetter, but that doesn't change the fact that your fingers seem to slip even easier over your clit. You moan his name a little louder, intentionally, picturing the bulge in his pants as he watches you, the blue mixing with the green in his eyes, becoming a darker teal as his arousal ratchets up a notch.
A whimper escapes, your finger moving faster as you feel the bed dip and his hand on your ankle.
"Slow down, darlin'..."
You slowly open your eyes, watching him as he moves between your thighs, his face hovering over your pelvis, a smirk curling over his lips. Miles of his tan flesh is visible to your gaze and it soaks into your brain that he's naked before you, his clothes folded neatly right inside the door, his bag resting on top of the pile.
"This for me?" he murmurs, his eyes on yours, his finger twisting in the wet lace as he pushes your fingers away. He pulls the fabric tight against your cunt and you groan quietly as he exhales over you, his breath tickling your sensitive flesh.
"Thought you'd get started without me, huh?" he continues, nipping at the skin of your lower belly, wrapping the rest of his fingers in your panties, pulling until the lace tears enough that he can toss the fabric to the floor. "Finish what we started earlier?"
Any complaint on your tongue is washed away as he presses his mouth over your pussy, shoving your dress even further up your torso.
"You taste better everytime," he mutters, his compliment vibrating over you and your hips arch, seeking out his mouth. "Patience, patience," he tuts, his hand spreading to lay just below your navel, pressing your hips to the bed. "You don't want me to have to tie you down again, do you?" he asks, his eyes flashing to yours as the tip of his tongue prods at your swollen clit, making you jump.
He's always had a thing for tying you down. You can only figure it's the idea of having complete control… it's the one thing about him that no one can argue. The man has to control everyone and everything. Regardless of what you may say to the contrary, you really don't mind letting him have it.
Or maybe it's the marks that are left behind. The gleam that appears in his eye when he notices a hickey or a bruise from your escapades, branding you… letting the world know who you belong to…
Your train of thought crashes to a halt as his thick finger shoves its' way inside you and you can't help but let out a moan. Your hand moves to fist in his hair, but he catches your wrist before you can touch him.
"Didn't say you could move, now did I?" He quirks an eyebrow as he sits back on his heels, pulling his hand away. You grind your teeth, spitting out the word 'sadist' as you stare at him. A chuckle escapes his throat and he lays your hand next your hip, sliding from the mattress. Your eyes follow him as he paces the carpet thoughtfully, your fingers digging into the comforter as you wait. He crosses to the room, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, he lifts his hand, crooking his finger.
"C'mere," he tells you, his voice just loud enough to reach your ears.
You swallow but push yourself off the bed. You move to step forward, but he halts you.
"Take off your clothes."
You reach behind your back and carefully lower the zipper of your dress, watching him watching you as the fabric loosens around the rest of your body. You're pleased to hear his growl as the piece of clothing falls to your ankles, leaving you completely exposed to his smoldering gaze.
"No bra, huh?" he asks, licking his lips as he stares at your nipples. You shake your head and brush your thumb over a peak, swallowing your own gasp. His eyes narrow and flash to meet yours. "Get over here," he orders.
You slowly move across the floor, stopping when you're in front of him. He slowly reaches out, his fingers gently wrapping around your upper arm and he pulls you closer, your body flush against his. You can feel the heat of his cock between you making you ache and you swear you can feel your wetness dripping down your inner thigh.
His nostrils flare and you can see the lust darken his irises. "I can fuckin' smell you," he growls, his voice thick and his Texas drawl clinging to the edges of each syllable. Your eyes flash to his lips as his tongue peeks out, running over his lower lip. His hand reaches out cupping your cheek and brings you in, crashing his mouth over yours and a groan sounds between you and you can't be sure who it comes from.
"Wanna get on your knees for me, doll?" he whispers against your lips.
Even though it's formed as a question, you know it's a command and if you don't slide to your knees on your own, he'll help you to them. You contemplate putting up a fuss, playacting the way you both sometimes do, but there's nothing you want more than to slide him between your lips and take control the one way you know you can. Though it's you on your knees, once your tongue glides over him, he's all yours.
Slowly you lower yourself until your eye level with his cock, his member swollen and red, glistening at the tip. You gaze up at him, your eyes wide.
His hand moves to your cheek, his palm cupping your jaw. The pad of his thumb trails over your lip, his other hand moving to grab his cock at the base and slowly guiding it towards you.
"Open up," he murmurs, pressing the head against your full lower lip.
You slowly part your lips, groaning as he fills your mouth. You can taste yourself mixed with his own essence. It makes you feel so filthy that you like it so much, the mixture settling over your tongue.
"No hands," he mutters before you can touch him. "Not yet."
You manage to scowl up at him, even with your mouth full. You want to touch him. You want to feel his heat against your skin, weigh his balls in your palm. But this isn't about what you want right now. You know he'll take care of you and you know that you'll have a turn, but you can't help but be disappointed that you have to wait. Especially since he's been making you wait all afternoon.
Then you're not really thinking much of anything as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat. Before you can gag, you relax your muscles and take a deep breath through your nose. You hear him let out a moan above you, his fingers digging into your cheek as he slowly pulls back, his prick dragging over your tongue.
"Almost forgot how good you are at this," he breaths, letting out a hiss as you let your bottom teeth drag over the underside of his cock. "And how good you look doing it."
You flush at his dirty compliments, your fingers digging into your thighs, itching to lay your hands on him.
"Why don't you put your hands to good use, doll?" he grinds out, shallowly pumping in and out of the heat of your mouth.
Your eyes brighten as you move to wrap a hand around his prick.
He shakes his head. "Not on me, sweetheart," he corrects. "This pretty mouth of yours is enough." His thumb glides over the bulge in your cheek. "Play with that clit of yours. Show me how much you like when I fuck your mouth like this."
You hum around him, your eyes fixed on his. Slowly, your hand glides to your center and you let out a muffled gasp as your finger caresses the distended flesh of your clit, sending a jolt through your bloodstream. You know you won't last all that long, not with the all the teasing and now having him so close. You just want to be able to come with him inside you. Or at least have him be the one that pushes you over that edge.
"Just keep that pussy warm for me," he whispers almost as though he were reading your mind, his eyes screwing shut as his thrusts increase.
You groan around him, a combination of his cock in your mouth and your fingers playing with your clit. Suddenly, you're flat on your back, staring up at him as his body blankets your own and before you can even try to catch your breath he's inside you, finally reaching the end of his own self control.
You scream his name, your hands moving to his back. Your nails cut into the skin of his shoulders as he pumps in and out of you, grunting with each thrust, sweat beading at his hairline.
"Good God, I fuckin' love you," he groans out, moving a hand to your thigh and lifting it to his hip.
And with that, you feel yourself explode, sucking him deeper, your orgasm spreading through each of your limbs. You cry for him to go harder, to never stop, to just keep fucking you. He obliges, pressing you down against the floor, his cock moving in and out of you until he comes with a shout, his body spasming as he empties inside you, shoving you over the edge all over again.