Work Text:
The sunlight flitted in through the window lazily, catching in the curtains and scattering across you and Chris still in bed. You’d tossed off the covers, too warm in the night despite the winter chill. Chris’ fault, really: he was a furnace. Something you were reminded of even now as he pressed against your back. You were on your side, elbow bent and face propped onto your fist. You scrolled listlessly through your emails on your phone. Chris snuck closer, one arm slipping into the triangle gap your body formed. He pressed his forearm across your chest, hand finding the opposite shoulder and bringing you flush to his chest. Chris peeked over you and groaned.
“No work,” he pleaded with you quietly. “Come on.”
You gave him an apologetic hum, closing the emails. “Sorry.” Your thumb found a blue icon.
“God, that’s even worse.”
A laugh left your lips. He wasn’t wrong. But you decided to look through it mindlessly anyway. Chris let his other hand skate down your side to your hip. Chris dropped his nose to nuzzle against the back of your neck. The sun crept higher. The two of you were silent for a long time as you allowed the fog of sleep to get chased away.
“Hey, did you hear about that plane in the Hudson?” you asked, twisting your neck to look back at Chris.
“Hmm.” Something about his tone made you forget about the headline you’d seen. You locked your phone, setting it down from the bed. Your hand smoothed over the sheets, back and forth, back and forth. It was a motion to soothe you, to still your hammering heart as it mirrored the sun, lifting higher until it beat against your tongue.
“What?” you mumbled. Chris left a burning kiss against the hinge of your jaw. A smile twitched at your lips.
“There we go.” Chris couldn’t hide his pleasure at bringing your attention back to him, and he seemed to know where your mind was running off to. A victory twice over. He dragged his cheek against yours in a gentle motion. His stubble scratched at your skin. Chris let his teeth flash out to nip at your bottom lip. You rolled your eyes.
“You’re so needy.”
“Only for you,” Chris fired back, cheesy and smug and somehow still incredibly sincere. You reached back over your shoulder, fingertips combing through Chris’ soft dark hair. He made a little noise. The hand on your hip suddenly found a new mission; his calloused fingers slid under the waistband of your boxers, blazing a path over your thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut.
Chris’ fingers slipped backwards. He tightened his grip around your chest, forearm shifting a little closer to your throat. He parted his lips to press an open-mouthed kiss to the bend between your shoulder and neck. All the while, the pads of his fingers dipped between your legs from behind. With gentle, curious motions, Chris laid a questioning touch against your cunt. A delighted moan vibrated against the skin of your shoulder as Chris found you warm and wet and wanting. The answer he’d been hoping for.
You opened your eyes up again, looking down to decide your movements, your positioning. You slipped one foot up, planting it on the opposite knee to form another triangle with your body. Your thighs were parted, back arched to give Chris better access. He grumbled incoherently into you as he nibbled gently at your ear. His fingers pushed forward when your hips tilted back; he entered you with little resistance, your ever-growing wetness helping him slide deep into your cunt.
One of your hands snaked an eager path to the other side of your hips. You shoved your hand into your boxers and found your clit. You curled two fingers around the sides, slicking your hood back and forth. The friction made your nub swell to attention; you let go to swipe slow, shaking circles across the head at the same pace that Chris was pumping his fingers into you. Your other hand wrapped around the arm that Chris kept barred over your collarbones.
Soft, wet noises met each thrust of Chris’ fingers. He peppered heavy kisses to your neck, tongue pushing against your skin and leaving sloppy spit marks against you. His fingers stilled, and you flexed around him in protest, cunt greedy for more. However, you took the opportunity to push at his arm until it was above your shoulders. You lifted your chin and hooked it over top, encouraging the soft pressure to your throat.
“What are you doing?” Chris whispered, drawing his fingers back. You hissed at the loss, but you found your patience when you felt him slip your boxers down just far enough to expose your glistening folds.
“Pull tighter,” you whispered back, like you both were worried about breaking the moment.
“I’m not–” You felt him shake his head. “I’m not doing that.” There was a slight amused tone to his voice, but you knew he was dead serious.
“Just a little,” you pleaded. “Don’t have to choke me, just wanna feel it a little more.” Chris was using his free hand to bring his own boxers a little lower. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he worked.
“Fine. But keep your chin tucked. Alright?”
“Deal.”
You pulled your chin back and let the very bottom push into the well of his elbow. Chris tugged back in a cautious motion. You felt the pressure circle you. It was comforting beyond belief. Chris curled his palm over his own shoulder; it secured you firmly in the gentle headlock. Your hand never stopped stroking over your clit. Heat flooded along your nerves, and you peeked down. Chris’ veins were strained slightly against his skin, blood thrumming quickly. You knew he was nervous, not wanting to hurt you. But almost more than that, he wanted to make you happy. So he kept you pinned like you asked despite the skepticism in his voice when he spoke again.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Mhm.”
“No,” Chris chided, the word sharp and weighty, leaning closer to your ear. “Use your words. I need to hear you. Need to know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Chris,” you promised him, voice clear and soft. You were impatient. But this was the compromise. You got what you wanted as long as you did as he asked. “I’m okay.”
“Good.” Chris’ tense body relaxed against the muscles of your back. He shifted his hips closer, closer until you felt the head of his cock against your cunt. It bobbed, sliding over your clit and through your folds, seeking the solace of your wet walls. You bucked to try and help him inside, but the fumbling continued until Chris hissed, “Jesus Christ, can’t–” And his opposite hand quickly grabbed at his shaft, guiding himself against your entrance.
“There,” you confirmed, voice breathy and excited. He sank into you slowly. The arm around your neck flexed in anticipation. He didn’t tighten it, though, keeping it at the same light pressure as before. You moaned when Chris pushed his cock deeper; your cunt stretched to accommodate him, the slightest sting making you wiggle your hips. It always took a minute at the start; Chris was thick, and you’d never complain no matter how long you had to wait for your body to catch up to the pleasure.
“Let me know,” Chris murmured. His pelvis was pushed tight to your ass. You left a quick kiss on the arm around you. Chris echoed the action, kissing at your earlobe then dipping to leave another against the pulse point in your neck.
A few more heartbeats, and you felt your body uncoil. Your pussy fluttered around Chris’ cock, now wanting his friction, the delicious drag of his length inside of you. Chris knew, could feel the difference, but he still waited. “ ‘m good,” you mumbled, a little drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. You dipped your head, wiping it against Chris’ hairy forearm.
He didn’t seem to care, though; Chris reached down and wrapped his other arm under the leg you’d propped up earlier. He lifted your thigh up, opening you further. Chris’ palm splayed across your skin. His fingers dug into the burning, prickled flesh of your leg. Chris slipped backward, and a loud moan left your throat, cunt trying to suck him back in with a desperate, slick sound. You bucked to follow him, and Chris hummed.
In a slow, steady grind, Chris sheathed himself back into your pussy. This time, you both moaned, the sounds bouncing off each other in a choir of pleasure, and your fingers, having forgotten their mission, went back to rubbing over your clit. You pushed harder against the swollen nerve, your circles almost frantic despite Chris’ slow, intentional thrusts.
Chris looked over your shoulder and saw your stumbling movements, could practically taste the desperation beading under your skin as he darted his tongue along the curve of your throat. “Relax,” Chris breathed out, amused. Now he nibbled at your neck, pressing little teeth marks into your skin. “We’ve got all day.”
“Want it now.” Your voice was quiet, raspy as your fingertips tripped over themselves in an effort to provide the pressure you were seeking.
Chris laughed just a little; he kept rolling his hips. You could feel him slip deeper each time, threatening to bump your cervix. He sped up just slightly, shifting his angle, and it tipped you over the edge with one particularly smooth stroke.
Your cunt spasmed around Chris as your orgasm boiled and bubbled in a completely and utter blindside. Not the hot rush of a sudden, earth-shattering climax. But a soft, lazy rolling thing that washed across your muscles. You tightened, toes curling, and you bit down on your lip, whimpering softly. Chris came to a sudden halt, swearing beneath his breath as your clenching walls threatened to finish him too fast.
You both paused. Your pulse beat heavy all over, veins threatening to break open in an oil slick of pleasure, and you were sure Chris could feel it in his arm. Wetness gushed from your cunt, soaking his cock and spilling down your thighs. It took Chris a moment to compose himself, to swallow down the climax that you’d nearly ripped from him. Chris finally moved again. Your sensitive pussy surged in response, clamping down. Chris choked on his moan.
“Goddamn–” He gritted his teeth, plunging himself deep into your heat again and again. You moved your hand off your still-twitching clit and wrapped it around his arm, both hands now clinging to the chokehold he had you in. You nuzzled your head further into his elbow. It eased the pressure against you, but you didn’t care. All you were focused on was the way Chris was rutting into you.
“Chris,” you whined, the sound muffled by his skin. You inhaled, breathing in his heady scent as he continued to pump his cock.
Chris moved suddenly, shocking you as he released your leg. His palm spread flat against the side of your leg and pressed it tight to the other, making a vice. Chris slid his cock out of your cunt, and, in a swift movement, thrust it between your thighs. His shaft rubbed perfectly against your pussy, stroking over your sensitive clit as he fucked between your legs. You pushed your knees tighter together, flexing your muscles in an almost kneading motion to help Chris.
“Shit, shit, shit. ” Chris’ voice was strained, excited as you gripped him. You opened your eyes and peered down. You saw the shining, slick head of his cock appear between your thighs before disappearing again. The sight was addicting. It heightened your arousal. Each slide of his shaft against your clit brought you closer to another orgasm.
“Oh god,” you hissed. “Again. Fuck, gonna–” You cut off, a pitched cry torn from your throat in a way that was almost painful as you came again. This one flicked over your spine like a whip: overstimulated and sharp as you bucked your hips to push your throbbing clit harder into Chris’ cock, entrance dripping obscenely.
“Yeah, just like that, Christ , oh, sweetheart.” Chris slammed his hips forward. His cock jumped, and you watched him come, heavy, thick loads painting your thighs and the sheets; he gave a few more shallow thrusts between your thighs, smearing come across your mound. You hummed, not wanting to admit how arousing the mess was. You both stopped to breathe. Chris pressed his nose into your hair, exhaling against you with a warm breath. When Chris’ hand slid across your hip to rest against your stomach, you assumed it was to relax, to have that lazy morning he’d been excited for.
Instead, you felt Chris’ grip tighten before he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him; Chris laid you along the length of his torso, and his arms hooked beneath your armpits. With a slight jostle, his palms locked together behind your head. Your arms flew up to scrabble across the back of his hands before securing around his wrists.
“Chris,” you whined.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked immediately, voice quiet with concern. His hands loosened a little, and you did your best to shake your head before remembering his order.
“No, no , not at all.” You were breathless, dizzy in your bone-thick arousal. Your thighs fell open as much as your boxers would allow. Chris planted his feet against the mattress and bucked his hips. He was against your entrance, but you were too wet at this angle, cock skipping uselessly over your hole between your folds. You squirmed, wiggling one arm, and Chris knew to release you.
With one arm free, you strained to tilt your body and grip at Chris’ hard shaft. You were rushing as you helped him inside of you. He thrust up, and your hand was clumsily bumped out of the way by his movement. Chris wasted no time securing you back against him.
Chris nipped along the shell of your ear. His pace was nothing like before. Where he’d been slow, easy to take his time before, now he fucked into you like a fever had taken hold. Your whole body burned, blood still singing from your previous orgasms. “Ah, fuck , it’s–,” you moaned; your body was ignoring the way your nerves rubbed raw, cunt taking each rut of Chris’ hips like it was the first and last you’d ever have. It stung in the best way. “It’s too much,” you mumbled.
“I’ll stop,” Chris promised. “Just tell me.”
“Don’t,” was your immediate, easy reply. “Don’t stop.”
“That’s my baby.” Chris’ voice was hungry, low, rattling over your ribcage. “Come on, angel,” he purred; there’s a keening whimper in his throat, like his love is scratching at his words. “One more for me. Please?”
“Mhm.”
“Words.”
“Yeah. Yes.” You rocked your hips to meet his unforgiving thrusts. His cock pushed deliciously into your g-spot. Your cunt was drooling down his dick. Loud, squelching sounds followed each blissful slide of his dick against your walls. That familiar heat built in the pit of your stomach, coiling between your hips and choking up your lungs. Pitiful, thin moans left your mouth. Chris pulled his arms higher, taking you with the movement, and he chased your cunt with even stronger snaps of his pelvis.
“Please,” Chris spoke again. This time, his desperation was clearer. Ever the perfect gentleman, Chris wasn’t going to come until you did. No matter how much it ached through his veins. “Give it to me. Please .”
“Trying,” came your whiny mumble. Your eyesight was blurry, spots floating through your view of the ceiling. You squeezed your eyelids shut. Teeth baring, you focused only on the slick noises, the smell of sex, the hot warmth of Chris’ cock stretching you full.
Chris let one of his arms drop. The trigger-rough pads of his fingers slipped against your clit, begging wordlessly, needing it as bad as you did. You wailed out, head thrown back. Luckily, Chris still had his other hand on the back of your skull and kept you from breaking his nose.
“God, there you go, there it is .” The last word was snarled out, and Chris followed you quickly. His hips pumped roughly as he filled your puffy cunt with his come. The thrusts quickly became shallow, cock barely dipping inside as he finished. Come leaked from him and you in tandem, a warm, sticky mess. Sweat had built over both of you in a sheen. Chris dropped his palms down to your chest. He felt your heaving breaths mirror his own, each sucking inhale moving your body against him.
You finally convinced your limbs to obey you again; you slid onto your side, groaning as you thumped onto the mattress. Chris stayed where he was. One hand reached over and patted the top of your head before sliding down to follow the bumps and ridges of your spine.
“What happened to ‘we have all day’?” you croaked out, reaching for your phone. It was an anchor, keeping your mind off the way your pussy still clenched against nothing.
Chris laughed. His voice was equally raspy; he rolled closer. He trailed a set of kisses along the top of your shoulder. His hand, still following your back, kept going. Chris cupped his palm against the curve of your ass and pressed, urging you onto your belly. “You started it.”
You hummed; you obeyed the insistent touch and flopped onto your stomach. Chris dug his fingers into the waistband of your boxers and pulled them the rest of the way down until he could toss them away. “No good deed, huh?” you teased him, as if you weren’t parting your thighs for him at this very moment, as if your pulse wasn’t quickening as Chris settled against you one more time.
“I guess not.”