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Loid was usually masterful at keeping himself under control and being inconspicuous. He had years of spy training where he learned to control his emotions, show restraint, and how to remain calm in any situation.
Yet with his (fake wife), such decorum went out of the window.
He was no longer the highly trained spy, Twilight, who had gone on long-length missions, slept with women to gather information, and never developed feelings . Not even for the most beautiful of women, who any man would fall at the feet of to let her step on him like a sidewalk.
Loid did not understand any of that.
Until he met his (fake) wife, who made him stumble over his words and cause him to get tight and aroused in his pants just by letting his eyes roam over her form; Her form was usually wrapped in a red sweater that hugged her curves so beautifully, but lately it had been that navy blue one that hid every inch of her skin.
He had come to terms with it, he supposed, until his wife had whispered into his ear, almost seducingly, " The whole weekend."
He packed Anya's bags in record time the following Friday morning. He failed to hide his eagerness to get rid of his daughter for the next two days when he gave Becky's butler all her bags, including her stuffed Chimera and penguin, a list of what Anya did and didn't eat (plus just how many sweets she could have ) , and practically threw her into the limousine.
The only thing he could do afterwards was wait and keep himself busy. Most times he didn't even know what to do on the rare occasions he had days off and was able to acquire more than 2 to 4 hours of sleep.
Yet, he had no choice but to busy himself with errands and simple housework that had not been caught up on because of busy schedules between him, Anya, and Yor.
But it all starts with her coming through the front door at exactly three minutes to five, Loid watching her take off her shoes and let down her hair with swift movements. She gives him her usually cheery greeting, letting him know that she's doing well.
He has it all planned and calculated in his head.
He's supposed to let her have a shower first. He's supposed to finish making dinner, grab a bottle of wine, and let the rest of the evening figure itself out. He's supposed to see her in the bedroom that night and ravish her until he has her clawing at his back with her fingernails, whimpering, begging, for release.
And yet he doesn't know what to do with himself when she comes out in nothing else but the red sweater she had promised him. Her long, fair legs cause something in his brain to short circuit, and suddenly he can't remember the last time she had exposed her legs to him like this.
Even her nightgowns are usually over knee-length, and her sweaters are always accompanied by a pair of long black stockings that he could easily rip off with one move. If just to get a sight of her legs.
God.
He sounds desperate.
But one glance over of her half-naked body causes him to realize that he wants nothing more than to discover if she has on anything under that sweater. Noticeably, she has no bra on if the way her breasts bounce with each step are any indication.
His hard-on is getting considerably worse the more he keeps thinking about her, the sweater, and not letting his eyes leave her chest after concluding that she, in fact, lacks a bra.
She stares at him with focus through her crimson eyes. Although her face is beet red, she refuses to let her eyes wander anywhere else but his face, trying to build-up confidence.
Words finally leave her mouth when his name leaves her tongue. "L-Loid." She clears her throat again and repeats herself. " Loid ."
"Y-Yes?" He answers in surprise, but it barely comes out audibly, his grip tightening around the knife he's currently trying to put away after cleaning up and putting away all the prep items for dinner.
Fuck .
He wants her so badly and the only thing she's done so far is say his name.
Is this really how soft and sloppy he's become? Letting his wife say his name put him out of sorts? Letting her bare legs cause him to get hard? Letting the sight of her red sweater make him want to disregard any spy training he's had?
Yor walks up to him, her footsteps as light as a feather against the wooden floors, meeting him around the counter. He can't calculate what she's going to do next, but he turns his body to her. He breaks the silence again when he breathes out, softly, "Yor…"
She wraps her arms around her husband's waist, pushing herself against his chest. She slides a hand from his shoulder to his arm and then down to his wrist where she takes a gentle hold of it.
She hums in acknowledgement, angling her head up to stare at him. He meets her eyes, then gazes down at her face. Her cheeks are flushed a light pink, her lips are slightly parted, and her pink fingernails drum against his wrist.
He swallows because the worst of it all is that her breasts are pushed up against him. There's nothing underneath at all, and through the fabric, he can feel their softness, their size.
He isn't blind to his wife's body. He had always known Yor had a pretty large breast size, but it was different when she had clothes covering up the flesh and he could easily avoid thinking about the fact. But it's impossible to ignore when he can feel said flesh against his own body and through the thinness of his shirt.
He grips the knife tighter.
He wonders if she can feel his growing erection against her, against her lower stomach.
He bites back a groan when she shifts against him. She pushes him back into the counter, and he uses his free hand to grip the edge to steady himself. His other hand holds onto the knife in his possession for dear life. She fully puts him under her trance as she reaches up to his chest and drags her hand down his shirt, over his own nipple, and he gasps.
Yor still hasn't said anything and just maybe… Maybe he's too scared to even voice what he's currently thinking, but he sees the small confident smile on her face, and it's at that moment that it clicks.
She knows what she's doing. She knows how she's making him feel. She knows that he could come any second.
And he knows, can sense, that his wife is getting a sick satisfaction from it all.
And he's enjoying every single second of it.
Her hands have now settled onto the band of his pants, but not for long as she slips her fingers under the hem of his shirt and glides them upward slowly. He shivers at the touch of her fingers and the feel of her nails as they scrape lightly against his skin. Her hands are almost too warm.
Or perhaps he feels warm with each passing sensual, teasing touch; it makes him wonder if she's ever been this way with anyone else.
His line of work dictates he's been with plenty of women. He's experienced sex. He's pleasured women to their satisfaction until they would collapse next to him or on his body. He'd entertained their many kinks, whispering sweet nothings that he didn't really mean in a woman's ear while fucking her with her wrists tied up with a ninety-nine perfect chance that she'd reveal anything he asked for.
The thought that maybe Yor had been with someone, or anyone else, irritated him. Not because his wife didn't have the right to have past experiences and relationships, but if she could make him feel this good, this insane, just what other skills does she have that might have been given to other men? He wants to be the only one she's ever pleasured like this.
He lets out another groan, burying his face deep into her neck when she pushes against him, bucking her hips.
None of this was a part of his plans.
"Y-Yor…" He's barely able to get out her name. "Are you… Nngh… Are you teasing me?"
He tries to sound playful when he says it, but she's slowly rubbing against his member and he can't breathe . He hears her own light breathing as she fully bucks her hips again.
He grunts.
His grip on the knife loosens.
"Maybe…" Yor trails off, and there's that confident smile on her face as she looks him in the eye. Her fingers slide down from his wrist to his hand and settles over the sharp object in it.
She grabs the knife from his hand, throwing it right into the wall nearby. He has very little chance to react. Very few seconds to question just how the hell she did that in the first place. She doesn't give him those short, measly seconds at all.
He feels his reflexes are too slow where they're normally fast, but with Yor, they're non-existent.
A regular situation of seduction such as this would get a spy killed.
It's not such a bad thing when it's his beautiful wife in her red sweater, though.
She leans up and kisses the very bottom of his neck, the tip of her tongue darting out as well. He bites his lip, trying to suppress a moan just from the small neck-kiss she gives him. His hands come up and he grips her shoulders, squeezing the nakedness of them when she presses another kiss on his neck.
She gives a lingering third one, sucking the spot, and he sucks his teeth as he realizes that she may have found a sensitive spot on his neck. His wife must realize this too, probably from the way he stiffens, and bites down on the spot.
"Fuck…" Loid mutters under his breath. His hands drag down from her shoulders and slide down until they rest on her hips. She continues to sweetly trace her kisses up his neck and across his jaw, his grip on her hips tightening, just until she reaches the corner of his lips.
When he opens his eyes, only her lips are slightly hovering over his and her hands are resting under his shirt still, firmly in place. Her face is flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. It's only then that he starts to wonder if she's…
That thought doesn’t make the feeling in his pants better.
"I-I…" Yor's face darkens, but because she's so determined, she still never moves her eyes away from him. He feels her breath and they're just centimeters away from closing the gap through their lips with each other. "I want you to…"
"What?" He wants her to continue. He tightens the hold on her hips, his hands bunching up the corners of her sweater. He hopes he's not hurting her. "Tell me, Yor."
She lets out a shaky breath. "I… I want you to touch me. Please."
Something about her sudden begging causes Loid to almost melt. He grabs one of her hands that is still resting under his shirt and kisses the inside of it. He moves against her and she moans in delight.
"How?" He licks one of her fingers and she shivers.
"I…" Yor is taking her time saying what she wants , but he doesn't mind. This is the first time they've gone this far. Going from sweet kisses to full on make-out sessions to humping and now sharing a bed. If they even got to the bed itself if he could restrain himself from fucking her on the floor of the kitchen. "Can I show you?"
It's a shy request, but she doesn't have to ask him. Anything she wants to do is welcome and even though he's dying to kiss her, not much talking or requesting would be done if he had it his way in the moment.
He gives her ass a soft squeeze, which causes a small smirk to tug at his lips when she lets out a sound between a squeal and moan. It's cute. "Of course."
Yor hikes up her sweater, although shakingly, because he's licked another one of her fingers in the process. She takes a hold of his opposite hand and slips it under her shirt until he's cupping one of her breasts.
"Here. I want you to touch me here."
Loid puts down the hand he's kissing and gives her breast a squeeze with her hand still placed over his. She shudders. "Like this?"
"More," she pleads in a low voice.
He massages her breast more, harder, and she tilts her head back as another moan escapes her mouth and god… Loid fucking loves it.
He then grabs one of her nipples and twists it between two fingers. Yor arches her back and he grunts, remembering that he still has a current hard-on stuck in his pants, so her movement makes him all the more aware of it.
He ignores it because he wants to pleasure her first, make sure she gets everything she wants, and makes sure she feels good before he sorts out his own problems.
"Aah… L-Loid…" She mewls, gripping onto his shirt.
He bites onto her ear and trails his tongue over the spot where he's figured out she's sensitive. Yor's whimpers become more pronounced.
He whispers against her ear, "I'm going to lift you up."
She nods.
And with ease, he grabs her under both her knees and lifts her onto the opposite counter, settling between her legs. He lifts her sweater back and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. Yor brings her hands up into his hair as a loud, pleasurable moan bursts between her lips.
"L-Loid… Nngh!"
He bites down on her nipple and she flinches. "Fuck…" He hears her mutter, and Loid realizes just how attractive it is for his wife to curse. She did very minimal cursing because she was always proper and spoke kindly with graceful words, but "fuck." That drives him wild.
"L-Loid?" she calls.
He bites at her nipple again before looking up at her. "What?" He kisses the area around her nipple, long and slowly.
"Wh-What if I just…" She hisses when he bites her nipple again. "J-Just take my sweater off-"
He comes up, growling before biting down on the sensitive spot of her neck. She moans and grips his hair where her fingers are running through it.
"I-Is something wrong?" Yor bites out, bunching her sweater up over her breasts in her hand.
"Don't ever take that sweater off," Loid tells her firmly when he brings his head back up from her neck, staring directly into her eyes.
"But it's in the way-"
"It's not," Loid assures her, placing his hands on her thighs and squeezing them.
He had been waiting for weeks to see her back in that red sweater. He suffered forty-eight hours after she promised him she would wear it just for him. It's been so long without it. The last thing he's going to do is remove it from her body.
No.
No, he isn't going to do that.
He was going to fuck her in that backless red sweater one way or another.
"If it's in the way, then…" Loid grabs the hems of her sweater and bites a free space with his teeth, lifting it up high over her breasts. Yor sees the smirk forming on her husband's face as he says through his teeth, "You can bite down on it."
She blushes furiously and grips his hair harder. If it hurts, Loid hasn't complained. "B-Bite it?" she repeats to him, shock on her face.
He nods. "Take it."
"I…"
With a shaky breath, Yor takes the piece of sweater from her husband's mouth with her own teeth, copying him exactly, and holding the sweater up with her teeth.
He doesn't give her a chance to send him any kind of communication with her eyes, the sweater silencing her speech, so he starts to suck on her left nipple, nibbling and licking it while he palms her right breast again, groping and massaging it with his hand.
He hears his wife moan again, her thighs squeezing against his hips where he's standing between her and her moans becoming muffled by the fabric hanging from her mouth.
He wants to make her moan that way, make her not be able to communicate the same way if he could only put his lips on hers just as he wanted to earlier. As he slides his hands from her thighs and up to the sides of her bare stomach, she whimpers through the fabric. The sound is muffled once again.
He fucking loves it when she whimpers.
She leans back and he secures her with his own hands around her waist to hold her up. He pushes her towards him, her legs wrapped around his waist tightly, and moves against her. His erected member touches her there and the fabric falls from her mouth when she gasps, gripping the edge of the counter behind her with her hands.
"L-Loid!"
She grabs onto his shoulders. Her face is red, flushed. Her eyes are full of lust, want, and need. He wants nothing else but to take her right here and now, but he also wants to go slow with her. He wants her to tell him more about what she wants.
He knows she wants something again. "What…?" He breathes.
All before he loses control of himself.
"My…" She clears her throat as she looks her husband in the eye, although shyly. Like she's too shy to say it. "M-My coworkers said that… There's this thing…"
"Thing? What is it?"
"W-Well…" Yor's face is a deep red and he admires that despite her embarrassment, she's still willing to tell him what it is . "They said at work that… when you go…"
Loid gives her a little smirk, as he has a feeling where this is going, but he wants her to say it. Finish describing it. "When I what?"
"They said go "down" on me and that… It feels good if you lick… down there!" she finishes in a high squeal. "Can you do that?"
He licks his lips. Starving. " Anything."
He had pleased many women, but this is his first time doing it on a woman he cared about more than anything. A woman that he cares about and a woman that he wanted to go into until she couldn't walk.
"Then you…" Yor trails off.
Loid sends her another smirk, she looks away, and he starts planting soft kisses down her body, starting from the middle of her breasts and leading his kisses lower and lower.
She leans back further as he plants kisses between her thighs; he sucks, and Yor moans as she drags his hands into her hair.
"Do it," she moans.
Loid plants another kiss on the opposite side of her thigh, doing the same as he did to the other. Yor shivers. "Loid… Please do it…" There she is.
Begging.
Just how he loves it.
"Almost…" he mutters and comes up to bite the hem of her underwear underneath, sliding the red, lace material off with his teeth down her legs. Just before he completely gets rid of her underwear, he notices the state of them. " Fuck…"
"W-What?" Yor pants.
"You're soaked," he finally voices aloud, meeting her eyes. He puts Yor's legs over his shoulders, squeezing her thighs where he has them gripped in place.
She's fucking soaked, and he's the one who made her that way. And if she's soaked, that means Loid was and is successfully pleasuring her.
"L-Loid…" She squeezes her eyes shut. "Plea- Please. "
As she wishes.
He dives in and Yor yelps, but it quickly develops into a moan as she feels his tongue enter her folds. Her thighs tremble on either side of his face and she grips his hair so tightly that she can only hope it's not hurting her husband.
She was soaked as soon as Loid brought one of her nipples into his mouth. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She is quite inexperienced with men, but she doubts any of them could make her feel the way Loid does.
She loves the way Loid is currently licking, biting and nibbling. Part of her feels guilty because she knows how wet it is down there. She felt it before she had even asked Loid about the task. It's a new experience for her body.
"Oh, Loid ," she breathes again, her chest rising up and down.
It's overstimulating, she realizes, as he works his tongue. It feels so different from the other ways he's touched her. No touch was ever the same, but this one makes her gasp for air. Makes her dizzy and out of sorts.
It's amazing.
She's halfway out of her mind, overcome with ecstasy, and when she's close, she arches her back and sputters, "L-Loid…"
The more he continues, the tighter her grip becomes and the more her legs squeeze behind her husband's head.
"Loid!"
She gasps his name with an almost embarrassing desperation when she hits her climax and her legs feel like complete jello, shaking against the side of her husband's head. She pants, trying to catch her breath, as she calls out, "Loid…?"
He comes up between her legs, slowly. She is absolutely horrified when he licks his lips of her juices, but she couldn't deny that perhaps he deserved to do such an act. After all, he has just made her legs turn to jello with his own techniques.
She has no time to breathe when Loid finally kisses her lips, something he's been anticipating all night. She feels dirty, kissing his lips where he had just had them between her legs, but she can't bring herself to care when his mouth feels as good on her lips as they did when he was buried between her legs.
He pulls back and asks, "Satisfied?"
Yor stares at him dazedly, nodding in answer. She's still panting, her cheeks flushed red. "V-Very…" Her cheeks turn darker.
He moves to kiss her again, her legs still wrapped around his waist, even if he can still feel them trembling from their previous act just now. Yor stops him, though, and pushes her hands against his chest.
She looks behind her before asking, "Can we move to the couch? I feel that the kitchen-"
Loid gives her a deadpan look. He squeezes the side of her left thigh. Hard. "I just gave you head in the kitchen."
Yor hits him in the chest in embarrassment. Loid wouldn't even usually flinch at such action, but Yor is abnormally strong after all. He was a bit worried earlier when her legs kept squeezing against his head. He preferred not to die while giving his wife head, but now that he thinks about it, perhaps it was a worthy way to go out.
However, explaining how he died to WISE and the rest of the world would be mortifying.
"D-Don't say it like that!" She blushes and moves to cover her face but ends up putting her hands back down. She clears her throat. "I want to kiss you… Comfortably."
Loid complies with her request. Although he would have liked to try fucking her against the counter, a change of environment works out. So he hooks his hands under her thighs and lifts her with ease, her hands secured behind his neck, until they find themselves on the couch.
Yor is on top, either side of her legs at his sides, trapping him in between as she straddles him. Her sweater has bunched up her legs, where he sees her folds, where her underwear is no longer present. Her face is less red now, and she looks considerably comfortable with her arms resting around his neck.
He's still hyper aware that there's a hard-on in his pants. Yor seems to notice because she shyly moves her hips slowly against it, seemingly teasingly, and her husband grunts. She does it again, with less shyness while moving her head to brush her lips against his own.
He groans in pleasure again and places his hands on her hips. "Yor…"
Yor brushes their lips together again. "What?" She breathes the words out against his mouth, and Loid feels the heat of her breath.
He wants to kiss her so bad.
He squeezes her hips in want.
In pleading.
He's begging again.
He's begging and he doesn't give a shit.
He can't even focus on how sexy he thinks she looks in the backless red sweater and how his fingers are hovering right at the edge of the opening. He just wants her to-
Loid lets out a moan when Yor finally closes the gap between them properly, their lips meshing together as her fingers trail up his neck and to his hair. Her breasts lie against his chest.
He kisses her back hungrily, yearning emanating from every inch of his body. She kisses him with equal yearning, even biting his lip, but he won't let her.
Not for how long she made him wait to kiss her.
He hears her huff against his mouth.
" Loid."
He laughs as she pulls at his hair. In between feverish kisses, she pants, "Let… Me… Mmm-"
He takes advantage of her talking, snaking his way into her mouth with his tongue. She moans, albeit angrily, gripping his hair tighter.
He pushes her backless red sweater further up her body and glides his fingers down her warm back. He thinks about how her skin is soft and smooth beneath his hands and how they're so close to her folds.
She shudders at the touch, lifting in his lap, and gasps when she sits back down, feeling his bulge against her. He grunts for the umpteenth time.
Loid is trying to take it slow. His mind is telling him to take it slow, but his body is saying otherwise. It's doing otherwise. He's doing everything he can to not flip her onto her back, undo his pants, and fuck her into oblivion.
That's not what he wants.
Not yet.
That's why he finally lets her take back control of their kissing.
She breaks away just as quickly, panting, to remove his shirt, and he lets her. He doesn't question the way she tears it in the process of removing it and throws it to the floor impatiently. She takes his face into her hands and kisses him again, biting & sucking his bottom lip as if she thinks he's going to try to leave.
When she pulls away again, Yor detaches his hands from her back and guides his right hand under her shirt and down between her legs. "T-Touch me here…" she manages to say. "I-I want that too- Ah!"
She gasps when his fingers barely stroke her middle. Loid can't help the smirk that sneaks up on his face.
"Mrs. Forger, are you there already?" he teases, brushing his lips against her neck. He moves his fingers again, barely grazing her aching middle, and she lets out another gasp.
"L-Loid…" She says his name with a strained sort of delight as he starts to adorn kisses down her neck and shoulders.
Her husband had touched her hair, her face, her shoulders, her thighs. He had kissed her forehead, her lips, her neck, her back even. They had never done more than exchange heated kisses at that time, but here…
He had never touched her there before. He had never touched her so sensually, so personally, that she felt immediate bliss. She had guided them there, because she wanted to know what it felt like, and just maybe she had underestimated just how good it would feel. Because for her, it was heavenly.
They're the same hands she always sees do various things, expertly from her own personal experience, but she had wished long ago that she could feel his hands on her like this. He could do anything.
If it always felt this good, he didn't have to ask permission.
He keeps going and he's teasing. He's teasing so much that she hates it because she wants him to go faster.
"G-Go… faster!" she heaves, wanting - no, begging him to quit his teasing. "Please."
Loid smirks, but he fulfills her wishes as his fingers start moving at a faster rate than before. "Anything for my wife. "
Yor is trying to focus, but she can't because the way he said " my wife" makes her want to climax. Makes her want to never stop kissing him. Makes her want to practically beg for him to fuck her.
She feels so dizzy but so good. She grips the couch behind him as he keeps going. She tries not to moan loudly, but how can she not when she feels herself at her wits' end?
She shudders, moans, her voice higher than normal when she comes.
Yor slumps against him right afterwards, forehead touching his, and he retracts his hand. "F-Fuck, Loid…"
"Good?" He purrs against her neck. He brings his right hand up with a chuckle. His fingers are soiled, and she blushes brightly.
She nods, weakly, and just as Loid is about to move his hand elsewhere on her body, she grabs the hand that he used to make her feel like that, like her legs could be jello, and licks his hand covered with her juices.
Loid sucks in a breath as Yor feels his member get hard. They look each other in the eye, neither willing to look away because fuck she's beautiful and holy shit, he did not see that coming.
He admires the view of his fingers in her mouth, her black hair hanging down her back, her red sweater hanging off her shoulder and bunched up above her stomach, her flushed cheeks, and the way her tongue is moving between his fingers.
"Never take that sweater off," he says, breathlessly.
Yor tilts her head, tongue still darting out over his long fingers. There's a hint of curiosity and less reserved excitement in her eyes now. "Why…?"
"Because I want to fuck you in it."
After all, this is all because he wanted to see her in the backless red sweater in the first place.
"How bad?" Rather than a squeak coming from her mouth, like he expects, Yor's question throws him off balance. Like earlier, he wonders where that sudden bout of confidence came from.
She lets out a soft but tired giggle, although her mouth is full of his fingers.
He wonders what it would be like if she choked?
He uses his other hand to press her firmly against his chest. "Exceedingly bad."
She removes his fingers from her mouth and giggles again. Why does she keep giggling? "Just how bad is that?"
Loid groans.
He really needs to do something about the bulge in his pants. It's aching for release.
"I want to fuck you until you can't walk on your own," he whispers in her ear, nibbling it lightly.
"Th-Then…" Her voice sounds shy again. "Maybe you… Maybe you should get started on that…" She breathes in his ear.
She leans against him and her hands move toward the belt of his pants. A surprised gasp comes from her mouth, but she quickly shuts it like she made a mistake.
She stares down at him, red faced. "You're V-Very…" His wife flounders for a word. "You're leaking…"
He knows because he has been for awhile now. He's been too eager to get to the final act of their play, but he had to please his wife first. That was his first and foremost task. He hadn't even cared about himself. He just wanted to make sure she was satisfied.
She touches him again, barely grazing his member, and he hisses. Yor pulls her hand away. She frowns. "Did I hur-"
"No." Loid assures her through grit teeth. He leans against her shoulder. "I-It feels good."
"Oh." Yor fully wraps her hand around his member and he hisses, gripping the side of her hips tightly. "A-Are you sure?"
He nods.
Yor moves her hand up and down slowly at first, and if her husband's groan is anything to go by, she's sure she's doing something right at the moment.
Loid fists his hands into her sweater, and he knows Yor is taking her time, movements still hesitant. He encourages her by biting at her shoulder, and her hands move faster the more confident she becomes. She works her way up and down his member as he gasps and groans into her shoulder.
Judging by his wife's words earlier, Loid was sure she had never done this act before, but her hands worked magically to make him feel good. He hears her hum, like she's in concentration, going faster as if her hands are used to such actions.
"Like a knife…" he hears her mutter to herself.
He's too distracted by her work on his length to think anything of her words. When he feels himself coming, his fingers grip her sweater tightly. "Y-Yor… Fuck."
He feels himself coming close, so close to coming, but she slows her movements right before. It's only seconds before she resumes going faster and he's so close, so, so close, and-
* RIIIIIIING*
Yor lets go of his member and Loid almost curses from the sudden lack of her hand as she turns in his lap to stare at the ringing phone behind them on the stand on the wall.
"You're fucking kidding-"
"S-Sorry!" Yor apologizes frantically, red-faced as she realizes what she did. "I just… What if it's Anya?"
"She never calls when she's at Becky's."
"She calls to say goodnight," Yor reminds him, and he supposes she does have a point. She looks at the clock on the wall behind him. "But it's not her bedtime. What if something is wrong-"
"Go answer the phone, Yor." He gives her a small smile. She kisses him on the cheek happily before climbing off his lap and running over to the phone. He follows her, lazily fixing his pants.
Yor picks the phone up with the hand she wasn't using to give him a handjob.
"Hello?" she answers, trying to catch her breath in slow, steady breaths.
She frowns and turns to face him as she's on the phone. He's close to her. She mouths the words, "It's my job." And Loid's lips suddenly drop into an annoyed frown. His wife gives him an apologetic smile.
"N-No. I can't exactly come in on the weekend,'' he hears Yor say to the other end of the phone. She glances at him.
That causes his frown to deepen.
There's no way he's going to let his wife leave the house this weekend. He understands that she has a job, but his wife was faithfully at work every single day on schedule and the last thing he's going to do is let her step out the house because they needed her to come in.
City Hall isn’t even that busy on the weekend. They certainly aren't that desperate for help. Especially not his wife's help.
He goes further into Yor's space. She looks at him quizzically right before he hooks his hands under her legs and lifts her against the wall. Her legs automatically wrap around his waist and a squeak comes out of her mouth in surprise. She covers her hand over her mouth.
"N-No! I'm fine! I, uh… Th-Thought I saw a bug," Yor lies quickly over the phone. She shakes her head furiously at Loid, but he only rolls her sweater up to her waist.
The fucking backless red sweater.
"C-Can't… What of Camila?" Yor asks. "I'm sure she's available t-to work."
Loid lowers his pants and underwear, and Yor looks at her husband with mortifying shock. "Loid- I-I mean, if not Camilla, th-then Sharon?"
He admits his actions right now are more than uncouth, but what does it matter as long as he's quiet?
He settles between her legs properly, still holding her by the legs. The tip of him touches his wife's middle, and she grits her teeth.
"Y-Y-Yes… Millie? I-I don't think she had any pl-plans," Yor practically squeaks in reply.
He goes into her a little further. Yor takes the phone from her ear and covers the bottom with her hand. Her face is a deep red. "L-Loid-"
He goes into her further, Yor breathing in and out slowly as he does. She gasps when he's finally all the way in. She puts the phone back to her ear. "Y-Yes, I'm here! No, th-that was the sound of the TV! Sorry!"
Yor is barely talking properly as Loid slowly starts to thrust in and out of her. "N-Nooooo… J-Just! I can't make it! …Yes, it's a busy time for me!"
He starts to go just a little faster, moving his hips in a rhythm.
Y-Yes!" Yor groans. "S-See you, Monday!"
As soon as she finishes, Yor drops the phone from her hand and immediately wraps her arms around Loid's neck.
"L-Loid!" She yelps as he goes even faster. "That was unacceptable!"
" I know ," he groans into her ear, tightening his grip around her legs.
He keeps thrusting into her, fast and hard. Yor's fingernails dig into skin, scratching at and into his back with brute strength. Loid's thinks about how good it feels with each thrust, knowing he's doing good when Yor throws her head back, continuous trails of moans leaving her mouth.
Loid keeps going, thumping against the wall as he goes in and out of her so fast, pleasure spreading through them. Yor moans his name aloud. "L-Loid!"
He gets rougher, any sense of gentleness in his actions thrown away. He's wants to fuck her until she care barely walk, until her legs are numb, and until her fingernails have dug into his skin so deeply that blood appears.
He grunts. He wants to keep feeling her. He never wants her to let go as he plunges deeper. She arches her back, the feel of him inside of her taking over her completely, her breaths ragged and staggering. She gasps with every hard plunge against the wall.
"L-Loid…" She manages to gasp out. "W-We're not wearing a con-"
"I'll pull out before," he whispers in her ear.
Yor doesn't protest and gives a quiet hum of approval, though when he pulls out of her and comes all over her sweater - that goddamn sweater - he's pretty sure he didn't get approval for that.
"Y-Yor…" He doesn't move her at all as he sees the content on her red sweater. "Shit… I'm-"
He takes Yor's silence as a bad thing. He fucked up. It's the end of the world. At least he got to fuck her in the backless red sweater, granted, but she would never let him-
She lets out a tired giggle instead. She runs her fingers up through his hair.
"It's okay," she sighs. "Plus, it was better than my skin."
That was irresponsible on his part. Another child is the last thing they need right now. "Yor, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay," she tells him again. "I can just… Wash it. Or buy a new one."
He lets her down slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her steady, her legs wobbly from their activity earlier.
She falls to her knees immediately, and Loid catches her by the hands so she'll sink slower to the ground. The action causes a smile to lift the corners of Loid's mouth. Yor shakes her head in embarrassment.
"Don't laugh!" she whines.
"I'm not." Loid knows he's gotten shabby at lying because despite his words, there's a grin on his face, which clearly makes his wife more embarrassed.
"Loid!"
"I'm not!"
"Yes you are!" She shakingly stands up with his help. "You can't laugh."
"I did it to you-"
Yor immediately hits him in the shoulder. Harder than she thinks or intends because it will hurt like a bitch tomorrow. His wife was never aware of her strength.
He grabs her by the waist, lifting her up bridal-style.
"Where are we going?" Yor asks him, confused.
"To get you out of your dirty clothes and bathe."
"Just bathe?"
"Just bathe," Loid confirms.
"And I can take off my red sweater?" Yor teases him, poking his cheek.
"Of course." He blushes, and Yor giggles.
Perhaps he needs to get his obsession with the backless red sweater checked.