Archive of Our Own

Dick Grayson had a reputation; everyone knew it. Few people cared, though. In fact, most of the girls on campus still threw themselves at him despite him being known as a womanizer.

Those who didn't immediately cave, still gave in eventually. Sometimes he had to make up a lie or two, pretend his non-existent dog died or his grandmother was sick and he needed comfort which only they could provide. Still, no matter the girl, he could always find a way to get them into bed. Always. Until he met you.

"So, do you have an early class in the morning?" Dick asked as he brought the car to a stop at a red light.

You'd had exactly one cup of beer at a party tonight and he insisted on driving you home.

"No," you responded succinctly, glancing out of the window of his car, reading the street name off the sign. You weren't that far from your apartment, thank God.

"Then why'd you want to leave the party so early?" He questioned, trying his best to get you to mutter more than a few words at a time.

This wasn't your first interaction, not by a long shot. He'd approached you when he first saw you, and you'd shot him down faster than any woman in his entire life had. Since then, you refused him repeatedly. Said multiple times that you had a boyfriend and to be honest, he didn't believe it at first. He never saw you around any guys, flirting, dancing or doing anything otherwise couple like.

He, frankly, assumed you were lying. Until he saw a guy kiss you when you were in the quad outside of the philosophy building one day. The gesture was quick as though repetitive, more of a chore than an enjoyable moment. He found it almost pathetic and found himself thinking he'd never kiss you so weakly.

You just shrugged. "Wasn't having a good time." You liked a party every once in a while, as long as they were good. This one was boring, with bad music and awful drinks.

Dick hummed thoughtfully, drumming his hands on the wheel. "Got it," he noted, quickly glancing at you and back at the road.

Normally, he never got hung up on girls. Then again, most never took this long to seduce. His usual plays hadn't worked with you and it was starting to piss him off. He loved a challenge, sure. But you weren't just a puzzle, you were the world's largest rubix cube.

"Take a right," You abruptly told him. "It's faster that way."

He gave a brief nod and turned, even though he knew it wasn't actually faster. He had never been to your apartment, but he knew the area immediately when you told him where your building was. It was next to a restaurant he frequented, and he knew which way was quickest way there.

Still, he obliged to make you happy. Dick was nice, he was charming, never came onto you too strong and still you pushed him away, saying over and over that you weren't interested, that you had a boyfriend. He knew you did, even if he'd only seen the guy once and didn't even know his name.

But where the hell was your boyfriend tonight? When you were all alone at yet another party, with a red cup in your hand and pretty skirt on with a matching blouse that he was dying to unbutton.

"Can I ask you something?" Dick questioned, turning to you for a second. When you didn't respond, he asked anyway. "What's your boyfriend like?"

You frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Your boyfriend," he repeated. "What's the guy like? Is he like a study freak or something? Is that why he never goes with you to parties?"

He noticed the hesitation on your response. "He's busy, that's all," you told him. "Parties are loud."

Dick knew he was just trying to sleep with you and forget about you. You knew he was just making small talk to try to get into your pants. He knew you knew that was his plan.

Suddenly taking a turn too quickly, you both tilted slightly in your seats and he instinctively put his hand out in front of you when you jostled forward, your seatbelt pulled taute.

As the car straightened out, his hand dropped, gently resting on top of your thigh. He saw you glance down at his hand, before scowling at him.

"Relax," he muttered, looking back at the street. "I'm not hitting on you, just making sure you don't get whiplash."

"Pretty sure you don't need to squeeze my thigh to make sure my neck is okay," you retorted, rubbing the slight pain in your neck for a moment.

"Oh, please, I wasn't squeezing," Dick remarked, firmly grasping your leg with his hand, making you jump. "That's squeezing."

You took a deep breath, trying desperately not to smack him for that. He was, after all, driving the car. And it probably wasn't smart to antagonize any man driving a three thousand pound machine. Besides, you were sure he'd get sick of coming onto you eventually.

"Really?" You questioned in disbelief at his brazen nature.

Dick shrugged. "What? Is your boyfriend that insecure that he would feel threatened by another guy just squeezing your leg?" He asked.

It was somewhat a genuine question. You hadn't answered his last one, so he had to assume your boyfriend was the meek type.

"No," you responded, almost too quickly, clearly defensive over him. For what reason, you weren't sure. "It's just disrespectful to do something like this when you know I'm not single or interested in you."

He hummed again, nodding slightly. "Well don't worry, we're almost at your apartment and you can tell him all about this using some colorful phrases," he joked.

In truth, he wasn't sure if he had ever actually heard you swear or not. He didn't know if you were the type. You had a bit of an attitude, but somehow still remained almost posh. As if that kind of language was beneath you. You were an enigma, that much he knew.

"We don't live together," you grumbled, instantly grimacing that you gave him more ammunition to use. "Yet," you clarified quickly. "We don't live together yet."

Dick didn't say anything for a bit, but a small smirk tugged at his lips as he ran a red light that turned when you drove under it. You didn't live together. How committed could you really be to this guy? After all, he didn't bother showing up at parties with you and he wasn't the one driving you home. Whatever relationship you had couldn't be that serious.

"How long have you been together?" He asked after a while, his hand still resting on your thigh, as if afraid to move it an inch, in case you slapped his hand away.

You didn't know what the point of all his questions were. His curiosity with your relationship couldn't lead to anything good, but you still answered, just to get him to back off. "A year and a half,"

Dick's eyes widened a little. "A year and a half?" He repeated. "Don't most couples live together by then? Especially broke college students trying to save money on rent."

"I'm not broke," you said. "I don't need someone to help me with rent."

"So, you just don't love him that much," he commented, just trying to rile you up at this point. You wouldn't give him a straight answer about your relationship and it was driving him crazy.

You stared at him, dumbfounded by the conclusion he had drawn. It wasn't true. You did love your boyfriend. So what if you didn't live together? That didn't mean you weren't committed to each other.

"That's not true," you stated with a bit less confidence than you hoped for.

"Really?" Dick questioned skeptically, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt. "Why haven't you pushed my hand away yet?"

"..."

You didn't say anything and he was pretty sure it was the first time you were speechless. Usually, you at least rebuked him or shot him down in some way. Now, you were completely silent.

"C'mon," he goaded a little, slipping his hand under your skirt, feeling the warmth of your leg under his fingertips. "Tell me to stop."

He glanced at you, a little unnerved by your silence, but he wasn't going to question it. A part of him wanted to see how far he could go until you pushed him away.

Slowly, he ran his hand higher up your leg, feeling it twitch slightly under his touch. Keeping his eyes on the road, it took most of his focus to stare at the street and not think about how soft your skin felt.

He drew little circles on your leg, brushing the back of his knuckles up and down, occasionally glancing over to see if you'd had enough. He couldn't read the expression on your face in the dark well enough to tell if you were scowling or actually enjoying the way he was caressing your skin.

Dick was certainly enjoying it, and part of him wanted to know if any part of what he was doing was making you feel even the slightest bit wet. He hoped it did.

A little higher his hand crept until finally it met the band of underwear, he heard you inhale sharply in the silence and he slid his fingers over the top of the fabric, hooking his fingers under the elastic and snapping it against your skin.

"Seriously?" You questioned, a little peeved, finally breaking your silence. Though mostly, your voice just sounded incredulous, as though you couldn't believe he'd just done that.

"Why aren't you stopping me?" Dick asked in response, turning to look at you, while fiddling with the band of your underwear.

Thank God you had worn a skirt tonight.

"I-" you couldn't think of an immediate answer.

The truth sounded so pitiful, after all. Telling anyone, especially someone like Dick Grayson that your boyfriend wasn't pleasing you in bed sounded pathetic.

"What?" He wondered, genuinely curious. Despite the fun he was having, he did really want to know why you were letting him get away with this when you usually refused him if he so much as smirked at you wrong.

"Nothing, watch the road," you said, realizing he'd been looking at you longer than the road. If he veered any further, you'd be on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, yeah," Dick turned the steering wheel with one hand, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment, his hand still under your skirt.

Putting the car in park, he sat back in his chair, finally focusing on you the way he'd wanted to do during the entire drive.

"Thanks for the ride," you mumbled, only half sincerely, unbuckling your seat belt.

Before you could reach to open the door, he squeezed your thigh again, tighter than both previous times. Again, you inhaled, this time clenching your legs together, trapping part of his hand between them.

You looked down at where his hand disappeared under your skirt and glanced back up at him. He wasn't acting like usual and you couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Slowly, you unclenched your legs, but he didn't pull his hand away yet.

"Why?" He repeated. "Why haven't you stopped me?"

You reminded him during every single interaction the two of you had that you had a boyfriend. You didn't really even seem to love him that much, but you were defensive over him and the relationship anyway. He couldn't understand why.

Again you tried and failed to answer him. "I just- you were driving," you replied weakly, as though that was an excuse.

You could have left by now, opened the door and gone inside. You didn't. Why didn't you? What was making it so damn hard to leave the car? You didn't quite know.

A moment of silence passed and Dick once again started rubbing small circles on your thighs with his thumb, almost absentmindedly while in thought.

"Does he make you happy?" He eventually asked.

You were caught off guard by the question, but nodded. "Yeah," you murmured softly, in a tone that wasn't quite believable.

Another beat passed.

"Does he make you feel good?" Dick questioned.

Your eyes shot up immediately at the highly inappropriate question, which was somehow more abhorrent than him having his hand up your skirt.

"I- yeah, yes, obviously," you told him instantly, now shoving his hand away.

You should have done that from the beginning, but you just couldn't do it any sooner. It was too damn soothing, and the warmth of his hand felt good for some reason

He nodded skeptically, letting you push him away. He wasn't a complete asshole. He wanted to sleep with you, yes. And he wasn't above using certain tactics to get you interested in him. But he wanted you to want it too. He'd never force himself on you, or do anything that might make you uncomfortable.

Although he supposed you did look a little uncomfortable right now. That hadn't been his intention and he felt a little bad about it. But mostly, he was just curious. A girl like you shouldn't just have a boyfriend clinging to her every second of everyday, he should also make you feel wanted and desired.

He didn't do commitment, he didn't want anything from you aside from sex. But he'd still take care of you, even if just for a short while.

"Wow," he said, unbuckling his own seatbelt to get more comfortable. "That's gotta be the biggest lie I've heard in a while." You rolled your eyes but he continued. "No, I mean it. He clearly leaves you unsatisfied."

"No, he doesn't," you remarked, trying to think back to what possessed you to agree to let him drive you home in the first place. What a stupid decision that had been.

"He must," Dick insisted, resting his elbow on the armrest in between the seats, leaning a little closer to you. "Otherwise you'd never let another man touch you like that."

"That was not cheating," you stated firmly.

You knew what cheating was. Cheating was finding your boyfriend in bed with another girl. Cheating was seeing seeing him kiss someone you had a class with. Twice, he'd cheated. Twice you'd taken him back. A third time, you'd break up with him. That's what you told him, and yourself. Deep down you both knew it wasn't true. You liked the stability of always having him there, even if some nights he was in a different woman's bed.

He held up his hands in surrender. "I never said it was cheating," he responded, leaning closer. "But I'm right, aren't I?" He questioned. "He's bad in bed."

"No, he's not," you exclaimed a little louder. "He's just..." You trailed off in frustration. "...he likes to keep things simple."

You couldn't believe you'd just admitted that. To him, of all people. God, what were you thinking?

Dick nodded. "He's boring?" He reiterated, his voice lacking it's previous snark. "He says the same things, does the same stuff. Never tried anything new."

You huffed at his words. That was putting it mildly. You were an affectionate person, the kind of girl who wanted to give and receive attention, cuddle, hold hands, be pressed against someone without anything in the way.

Your boyfriend was the kind of guy who liked a dark room and kept his shirt on the entire time, then rolled over and fell asleep. He'd even put a pillow in-between the two of you if you accidentally reached for him in the night. He just didn't like physical contact like that. You knew it. You didn't get upset about it. It didn't stop you from craving it.

"It's not boring, it's consistent," you clarified, not even believing yourself at this point.

He felt almost bad for you. Even though you kept denying it, he knew the reason you didn't push him away was because you liked what he was doing, even if you knew it was wrong. Yeah, you had a boyfriend. But he clearly wasn't a good one. At least not when it came to intimacy.

Dick reached over and you frowned as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face far more gently than you were expecting. It was oddly tender, the silence getting tense for a moment.

He didn't quite know why he'd done that, but that he knew one thing- this was the opening he'd been looking for. He finally saw his chance to sleep with you, he just had to play hid cards right. Then, tomorrow, he could officially put you behind him and move on to the next girl that caught his eye. He had a short attention span, after all. His interest in you would never last.

"It's not wrong to want to be satisfied," he told you quietly, running the back of his knuckles down the side of your arm, feeling the soft fabric.

You didn't say anything and he leaned in closer, his eyes fleeting between your lips and your neck. He couldn't decide which he wanted to kiss more.

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were satisfied, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell another lie and you let your lips fall shut, glancing away from him.

Dick gently tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, shove him off, or tell him no. You never did.

A second later, his lips touched yours and your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his hand slide up your cheek, pulling you closer. He'd wondered for a while what your lips tasted like and now he knew.

It was a mix of something fruity, the flavor of your lipgloss which had soaked into your lips, but left a faint flavor behind and the hard candies you were constantly sucking on for some reason.

What kind, he didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care either. They were sweet. They made you taste good. He quite liked it.

Without warning, you abruptly pulled away, wiping your mouth and shaking your head as if you'd suddenly come to your senses.

"No," you said. "No, I'm not a cheater."

"Hey, relax." He tried to squeeze your arm reassuringly but you pushed his hand away.

"I'm such a hypocrite," you muttered to yourself. "I tell him to break it off with his side chicks and then I go and kiss-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Dick stopped you before you could finish your sentence. "Hypocrite? Did your boyfriend kiss someone else, too?" He questioned in nothing short of shock.

Obviously, he had no interest in anything serious with you, but even he knew better than to date multiple women at once or cheat his partner. That's why he never commited to anyone. It wasn't infidelity if he wasn't in a relationship.

You couldn't believe you'd said that loud enough that he could hear it. "He doesn't, anymore," you clarified.

"But he has, right? He's kissed other people?" Dick asked, pausing after a second and asking, a little worried. "Done more than that with other people?"

You nodded weakly, glancing at the door of your apartment building, wishing you were already inside. There was really no reason to deny it. You'd already accidentally said as much. He wouldn't believe you if you said no.

He scoffed, sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms. He looked surprised, almost pissed by the revelation. He was. How could any guy cheat on a girl as pretty as you? Your boyfriend couldn't have done anything but downgrade. And honestly, the fact that you were still with him, still loyal and claiming to love him was just ridiculous.

"I don't get it," he said bluntly, turning his head to you. "He cheated on you, leaves you unsatisfied, and you're still trying to stay loyal to him. Why?"

"..." You didn't answer.

"No, really," he continued. "You clearly liked the way I was touching your leg, the way I kissed you. You want more." It was a fact and you both knew it. "I want more too," he admitted. "I'd leave you a hell of a lot more satisfied than him."

He wanted to sleep with you. It wasn't a secret. He hadn't outright said it until this moment but he knew you were a smart girl. He was aware that you knew this was his goal. Yet, for some reason, there was a hint of sincerity in his voice. Like he genuinely wanted to treat you better.

Even though it was just his competitive nature, his desire to sleep with whoever caught his attention, and prove he could get any girl he wanted, he still wanted to leave you satisfied for some reason. He wanted it badly.

You swallowed, his words, which came out rather hash, hit you harder than expected. He was right, after all. Your boyfriend had cheated, twice. Maybe this was just a way to level the playing field and make things a bit more even.

"He really is a good guy," you told him, still defending your decision to be with your boyfriend to him.

Dick scoffed. "Sure," he pretended to agree.

"He is," you insisted.

"So, you didn't like what I was doing all?" He questioned condescendingly, tilting his head a bit and raising an eyebrow. "You didn't enjoy being touched? You didn't like being kissed?"

You did. He knew you did. He had been around enough women to know when one was and wasn't interested. And you were interested. You were just too damn loyal to that boyfriend of yours to accept or admit it.

"..." You stayed silent again, swallowing harshly.

Dick scoffed in frustration, turning the ignition off and fully facing you again. "Say it," he urged. "Tell me you love him, you want him. Tell me you have absolutely no desire to kiss me again."

Just to solidify his point, he laid his hand back on your thigh, rubbing it up and down the soft fabric.

You hesitated, before whispering quietly: "I love him."

That was all you could say. You couldn't say you wanted your boyfriend or didn't want Dick. Neither were quite true.

"And the rest?" He prompted, clearly agitated.

He hated how this was getting to him. How hearing you say you loved another guy was making him feel... jealous. He didn't get jealous. Especially not of assholes who cheated on their pretty girlfriends.

"I can't," you whispered softly, the realization hitting you as the words left your lips.

His eyes dropped to your lips again as silence settled over the car and he had to restrain himself from doing something he would regret, like kiss you again and try to find out if the candy you'd been sucking on was strawberry or cherry.

Luckily for him, you were pretty good at regrets. You had a lot of them and didn't mind adding to the list. He watched as you slowly put your hand over his, stopping him from stroking your leg. But it wasn't a annoyed or upset motion. It was slow and deliberate.

You glanced back up at him, and without saying a word you leaned in, dangerously close to him, brushing your lips against his in something that wasn't quite a kiss. His breath hitched and without warning reached up, tangling his other hand in your hair and kissing you again.

The first time, he'd seen how hesitant you were. He'd been slow, careful not to startle you out of fear you'd refuse him yet again. But he was never one for self restraint. He wanted you. More than that, he wanted to prove to you that he did. That all his flirting wasn't just arrogance, but that he really could make you feel good. Better than your boyfriend.

The kiss wasn't nearly as slow or as tantalizing as the first one. His grip on your hair tightened a bit as your noses smashed together, teeth scraping while he squeezed your thigh harshly, sliding his hand up to your waist.

You pulled away again, turning your head to the side to breath for a moment. He could tell you were still struggling with the idea of being a cheater. That it was weighing on your conscious. "Don't... don't tell him," you whispered, practically begged him.

Dick resisted a scoff. As if he'd ever go around blabbing about this to anyone. "I won't," he murmured, tugging your hair, capturing your lips again.

As his nails dug into your waist through your blouse, you leaned over the arm rest until the seatbelt was jabbing into your abdomen and made a strangled sound of discomfort. With a huff of frustration, you crawled over to his seat, straddling his lap to get more comfortable.

He let out an involuntary groan as you sat on him and his hand fell from your hair, sliding down your hips, gripping them tightly while he kissed you.

"I'm not a cheater," you mumbled in between kisses, more so to yourself than to him, trying to make yourself feel better.

Dick nodded, pausing to reassure you. "No, you're not," he agreed, trying to clear your head of those thoughts and keep you from doing the right thing, which would be leaving. "You're not doing anything wrong, sweetheart," he promised, tucking another lose strand of hair behind your ear.

You let out a small squeak, your stomach flipping at the term of endearment. It was quiet but between the silence of the car and the proximity between you two, he heard it.

His forehead crinkled slightly, wondering why you'd made that sound. Not that he didn't like it. It was a rather cute squeak, almost like a mouse. "What?" He wondered, his hands slipping back under your skirt caressing the soft skin of your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "I'm just not used to pet names," you muttered.

He couldn't help but smirk a little. "You gonna squeak again if I keep calling you sweetheart?" He asked, mostly as a joke, but noticed the way your stomach muscles tightened at the nickname.

God, he liked that.

Squeezing your hips, he rolled them forward against his leg listening to you hum softly in enjoyment. That was an equally pleasant sound to his ears. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear a lot more than that, actually.

"Just like that," he told you, his grip tightening as you felt the friction of jeans against the thin material of your underwear.

Call him voyeuristic, but there was something so damn hot about having a woman on top of him, watching you grind yourself against his leg. He had been right earlier, thinking his soft touches made you wet. You were soaking his pants with a damp spot. He could feel it. And yes, he was unashamed of the fact that it was making him extremely hard.

Still, even though you were clearly getting caught up in the moment, bit by bit losing the inhibitions that he'd come to associate with you, you were still so quiet. Your breathing had gotten heavier and you occasionally groaned a little against his lips to drown the sound out, but you were no where near as loud as he had hoped.

"C'mon sweetheart," he goaded. "You can do better than that. Let me hear you."

He couldn't help it. He was a sucker for a vocal woman and the fact that you were so damn quiet was a bit frustrating.

But it wasn't quite your fault. He didn't know it, but you were used to quiet intimacy. Your boyfriend hated talking and was paranoid about the neighbors over hearing. He'd cover your mouth when you got too loud and you learned not to be as vocal as you once were. It was easier that way.

Rubbing yourself against him, your hands, which were previously resting on his chest wrapped around him and you nuzzled your face against his neck, hiding the sounds leaving your mouth.

"Can I..." You swallowed, pressing a soft kiss to his neck as your hands threaded through his hair, tugging on it when his thigh clenched under you. "I wanna leave a mark."

Dick, who had been resting his head back comfortably, watching you, stiffened a little, glancing at you. You looked up, your hips, still rolling against him but slowing down.

"You want to leave a mark?" he repeated in the form of a whispered question.

You nodded hesitantly and he could have died on the spot seeing how shy you looked all of a sudden. The girl who was always annoyed at him, always refusing his advances, being as stand offish as possible, was asking for permission to leave a hickey on his neck. It felt like he won.

Your hips had all but stopped and for some reason he really hated how still you'd become. "Yeah," he told you softly, grinding you against him once again. "Go for it, sweetheart."

The name elicited another small squeak, even quieter than the last and pursed your lips tightly trying not to moan at the friction. Burying you head in his neck, you kissed his carotid, peppering kisses up and down his skin before sucking a dark mark that wouldn't fade for days.

Dick groaned, leaning his head back. Every once in a while, when his leg bounced below you, a louder sound of pleasure rang out in the otherwise quiet car and your grip on his hair would tighten each time.

You let go of his locks, running your nails up and down his head, scratching his scalp while sucking his neck, leaving yet another bruise.

"Fuuuck," he whispered, digging his nails into your hips. "Are you trying to kill me?" He teased.

You made a sound of disagreement as his one of his hands slid down to your thigh and the other to the small of your back. "Sorry," you murmured, pausing to groan into his neck. "My boyfriend never lets me do this," you told him, out of breath, feeling slightly dizzy.

That caught Dick off guard. For a moment, he had almost forgotten the fact that you were dating someone. Then, he was simply shocked to know that the cheating bastard you were seemingly in love with didn't let you do this to him?

What the hell was wrong with the guy? So much, obviously.

"You're kidding," he remarked, his eyes closed, still relaxed by your actions even if the mention of your boyfriend made things a little tense.

You shook your head, lips brushing back and forth against his neck as you confirmed. "No, he...mmm," he bounced his leg a little, sending a jolt through your body. "...he hates it," you breathed.

Dick let out a small scoff of disbelief, running his hand up and down your back.

"How could he not want this?" He genuinely wondered, opening his eyes, watching the way you pushed yourself further down on his leg and the way you shivered when his hand trailed up your spine. "You're so damn responsive," he said, a little out of breath. "Such a good girl."

Most women wanted to be taken care of or used in some way or another and he never minded giving them what they needed. But so few ever tried to please him, especially without him asking for it. This was new, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying every second of it.

You bit his neck a little, whimpering at the comment. It was the first time he'd heard you do that. Shy as you seemed, up until now you were still relativity composed, groaning, humming, sighing and otherwise trying to keep your sounds of enjoyment to yourself.

"Did you like that?" He asked, tangling his hand in your hair, tugging your lips away from his sensitive neck and kissing your jaw. It was only fair he left a few marks since you had given him so many.

He tried to make his voice sound teasing, but it came out a rather genuine question. He really hoped you enjoyed it. He sure as hell did. He loved flattering the women he was with. He loved it even more when they liked and responded well to it.

"Uh huh," you fumfered a little. He'd slowed the roll of your hips to an agonizingly slow pace, and you couldn't quite think straight. "He...mm, doesn't say stuff like that."

Oh, this boyfriend of yours kept getting worse the more and more Dick heard about him. For some reason that really pissed him off.

He abruptly stopped kissing your neck, tugging your hair a little, making you face him. His expression was a mix of confusion and vexation. "He doesn't call you that?" He asked, searching your eyes for any sign that you were kidding. He couldn't find any.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Maybe you should stop finding ways to bring up your boyfriend while you were currently kissing another guy, lewdy rubbing yourself against him.

You shook your head slightly, as much as you could given the fact that his grip on you hair was tight enough to cause a little pain. "He thinks it's ridiculous to seek that kind of reassurance," you elaborated.

Dick's frown deepened. Your clarification had just made your boyfriend sound like even more of a prick than he already was.

"What kind of guy wouldn't want to call the girl he's with a 'good girl'?" He asked rhetorically, slowly letting go of your hair and running his hand down your side, pulling you closer. "It's simple, basic, praise," he muttered bitterly, pissed that you had been putting up with someone who wasn't even willing to compliment you.

You swallowed, your throat feeling dry. A simple shrug was all you could muster. You knew your boyfriend was less physically affectionate than most, but you were used to it. It didn't quite bother you like it once did.

Dick looked you up and down. Originally, he just wanted to sleep with you. And he still did. But now, he was more concerned with seeing just how many of those stupid habits your boyfriend instilled in you he could break in a single night.

"You said you and your boyfriend don't live together, right?" He double checked, soothing the messy strands of your hair that had become a little unruly during the fun.

You nodded. "Right," you whispered, out of breath as he pushed your stray hairs back into place gently.

"Good," Dick noted, his tone entirely different. No longer frustrated or angry, merely...opportunistic. "Because it would be a shame if he came home and saw us in bed together while I treat you the way he's supposed to."

A part of you wanted to know what he meant by that. 'How he's supposed to'. To try to yet again, defend your boyfriend in some way. Tell Dick that he was a good guy. Punctual and good at remembering details. But that sounded pathetic. And, you really didn't care about boasting about him right now. You just wanted the friction back, some semblance of the pleasure you previously had a moment ago now that he was holding your hips so tightly that even attempting to move them wouldn't do a damn thing.

You were suddenly very aware of what you'd been doing, maybe even a little self conscious of it, still thinking somewhere in the back of your mind that you were horrible for this. He tried to soothe you, say you weren't cheating to make you feel better or maybe make you more likely to sleep with him.

But you were a cheater now, he'd made you one. And that title wouldn't go away anytime soon, so you figured you might as well go as far as you wanted to.

Cupping your cheek, Dick leaned in, kissing you softly to break up the thoughts he could see tumbling around in your mind. "You wanna show me that apartment of yours?" he whispered against your lips.

You nodded slightly, reluctantly dragging your fingers out of his hair without saying anything. He wondered where the annoyance and nonchalant attitude had gone, or the lustful behavior. You were oddly meek.

He thought it was cute, how bashful you were. He also knew he had every intention of making you open up, he was planning on pulling every sweet, obscene sound he could from your lips, even if it took all damn night to make you lose that composure you pretended to have so well.

Letting go of you, he let you slide back into the passenger seat of his car and he got out while you sat there for a moment and scrubbed your face trying to talk yourself out of letting him come upstairs with you. It wouldn't end well, you kept telling yourself. But when he opened your side of the door, his hair was a little ruffled from your hands and saw several of the dark marks you left on his neck now visible in the moonlight, you knew there was no use trying to fight it.

You wanted him. He was just so okay with your affection, your kisses, and your nails scratching his scalp. All the things your boyfriend refused to let you do.

He held out his hand expectantly and you grabbed your bag off the seat before taking it, letting him close the car door behind you.

Still holding your hand, he tugged you towards the door of the building and you followed, realizing he had no idea where he was going. He didn't show it though, he acted like he had been to your apartment a dozen times before and knew exactly where to go. You weren't sure if that was confidence or arrogance but it didn't matter either way.

In the elevator, Dick once again slipped his hands under your shirt, feeling your bare waist as he pressed you against the door that would open at any second, kissing you.

"There's...cameras...in here," you told him in between the messy kisses, threading your hands back through his hair.

Despite protesting, you were still kissing him back and he thought that was a good sign.

As the bell dinged, he abruptly pulled away before the door opened and he took a second to appreciate how red and puffy your lips had gotten from all the making out. It was much prettier than whatever lipgloss you had on previously.

"Which way?" He wondered breathlessly, a little too eager to get your clothes off.

You led him down the hallway, towards your apartment and kept his hand around your waist the entire time, trying to maintain contact.

He wasn't usually this perky, like a puppy drooling. He was calm, collected, and in control. Smooth, some even said. But the second you unlocked the door, he was dragging you through it.

The lights were still off, the door clicking shut as he pushed you up against it, his hands sliding your shirt up higher as he felt for more skin.

You had let out a strangled sound of surprise and Dick found it oddly satisfying to have caught you off guard. He slid his hand around to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

"Bedroom," you murmured into his lips. "That way."

Dick smirked, feeling a little of his control coming back to him. Impromptu make outs in an elevator, and letting someone grind on his thigh in his car weren't his typical thing. In fact, this was the first time either had happened. But beds, and taking women to them, he knew very well.

Gripping your waist tight, he lifted you off the floor like you weighed practically nothing and frankly, to him, you did. He lifted often enough and with enough weight that he could dead lift practically anyone. You were like a feather.

Maybe he didn't know exactly which way you were pointing when you told him where your room was, but left felt like the right way. And it was.

You had left the light on the nightstand on by mistake, keeping the room bright enough to see and he practically tossed you on the bed eliciting a small squeak which turned into a light giggle.

Dick froze, listening to the melody of your laugh for a second. He had never heard it before. You were usually so busy brooding you couldn't even crack a smile, let alone laugh. A real laugh, too, not one of those fake, polite ones.

You raked your teeth over your bottom lip, trying to contain the little sound while staring up at him, blowing a stand of hair out of your face.

Normally, you never had sex in with the lights on. Your boyfriend claimed it was too awkward and claimed that the darkness was more intimate. But you didn't think this was awkward, in fact, it felt pretty damn intimate to you.

He pulled his shirt off, dropping it on the the floor by the bed before crawling on top of you, looking at you intently, noticing the way your pupils were completely blown.

Without saying anything, he began unbuttoning your blouse one button at a time, revealing more and more skin. He could see the way your breathing had changed, the way your chest rose and fell a bit quicker in anticipation. He quite liked seeing the effect he was having on you. But it also made him wonder what kind of love life you had that you were excited by him simply taking your shirt off.

"Your boyfriend doesn't know a good thing when it's right in front of him, does he?" He mumbled, his eyes glued to your cleavage as he kept unbuttoning your shirt.

You weren't sure if it was the AC or his words giving you goosebumps, but either way, you had them, along with a warm, gooey feeling in your stomach that you hadn't felt in a very long time.

Undoing the last button, Dick opened the material a little more and dragged his hands up and down your bare side for a moment, before leaning down and kissing your collarbone, sucking a dark bruise on it.

He could feel your hands in his hair, not just letting him, but encouraging him to mark your skin. You either enjoyed the feeling of it, or liked the idea of having hickeys. Either way, he was happy to give you more.

"Does he do this?" He couldn't help him but ask, murmuring his question quietly while leaving wet kisses on your neck, marking your skin with bruises and bite marks. "Does he leave you with pretty bruises so everyone can see that you're his?"

You sighed, somehow out of breath. "No," you told him, angling your neck so he would have an easier time sucking on it.

"But you like them," Dick said simply, not as a question, but as a statement. He knew you did. He could tell by how you were reacting. He pulled his lips away from your neck, admiring his work. "You look beautiful with them."

A faint peep came from your lips and he smiled faintly. A few simple words of praise and you were making all sorts of little sounds that he liked.

He just wished they were a little louder.

"Take this off for me?" He asked sweetly, fiddling with the hem of your unbuttoned blouse.

He had almost resigned himself to the fact that you would never accept his advances, that you would turn him down over and over until he eventually got bored and gave up.

But here you were, doing everything he asked.

He got off of you, standing back up for a moment as he watched you intently.

You sat up a little and he slowly unbuckled his belt, trying to ignore the stiffness he felt with how tight they'd become while watching you shrug the material off of your body and discard it on the floor before laying back on the pillows comfortably.

You stared at his hands, or more so the veins in them, your eyes glued to them. "Are you gonna...?" The question hung in the air, the slightest hint of enthusiasm coming through in your voice.

Of course he was going to take his pants off, you weren't stupid. You were just astounded by how easy it was for him to undress in front of you and how on top of that, he even seemed to enjoy it a bit. It shouldn't have been surprising that he was an exhibitionist.

He nodded. "Mhm," he hummed slightly and undid the button on his jeans as a slower than normal pace which was clearly agonizing for both of you.

But as badly as he wanted to get them off as quick as possible, it was just too damn fun to see how eager your eyes were as he unzipped his pants.

Some people might call Dick cruel for it, but he couldn't help it with how much he was enjoying how harshly you swallowed when you saw the bulge in his boxers as he pulled his jeans off.

Kicking them towards where you'd dropped your shirt, he put his knee on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he bent down over you again, kissing you. It was soft, but lingered for a while, longer than it probably should have coming from two people who were only interested in a casual hookup.

Dick ran his finger under the strap of your bra, snapping it against your skin lightly. He was enjoying this, how pliable you were under him.

"I'm going to take this off now, too," he told you, urging you to arch your back. He ran his hands up your back, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting you lay flat against the blankets again.

Wetting his lips, he slowly slid it off your shoulders, pulling it free from your body, and dropped it to the ground next to your shirt.

He paused for a moment, and looked down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, as he slowly took you in.

"God, you are gorgeous..." He breathed out, as his hands gently caressed your bare shoulders.

His hands continued to move down slowly moving down from your shoulders to your chest, groping the soft flesh gently while he kissed your neck.

His palms were warm against your skin as he slid his hand down your stomach, stopping to trace little circles before lowering it down to skirt and running his fingers under the waistband.

You whimpered again as his spare hand pinched one of your breasts and he had almost forgotten how sweet that sound was. How badly he wanted to hear it again.

Lifting your hips, you were silently begging him to take your skirt off and he obliged, pulling the fabric down from your hips and throwing it on the floor with the rest of the clothes which were slowly accumulating into a pile.

Your hands, which were still tangled in his hair, began to absentmindedly scrach his scalp again, your sharp nails sending a shiver down his back.

He let out a low groan, shutting his eyes and tilting his head into your hands, enjoying the sensation. "God, you should work at a spa," he quipped.

You huffed a light laugh, not even realizing what you were doing. You did that from time to time and usually stopped the second your boyfriend pointed it out, but Dick seemed to actually like it. And you, quite frankly liked seeing that you were making him happy. It made you feel like you were doing something right.

"I'm serious," he told you, opening his eyes, looking a little hazy. "Your nails feel incredible," he said, reaching up and tugging one of your hands down to kiss the top of it.

He liked giving compliments. He always had. He especially liked giving them to beautiful women and watching them blush. He loved the way your cheeks turned even redder in the dim lighting.

It wasn't hard to tell you had an obvious praise kink. One that had been severely neglected by your boyfriend. He'd have to fix that.

"You know what I think would feel better?" He suddenly asked, pausing to lean in closer to your ear, as he whispered lowly. "The feeling of them raking against my back."

Dick pulled back to see your reaction and he certainly wasn't disappointed when he saw your breath hitch, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

You knew your nails were sharp, you had cut your boyfriend plenty with them by accident and could easily make Dick's back bleed. But you'd never thought anyone would ever actually want that on purpose.

"You a masochist?" You questioned after a moment, mostly teasing.

To your surprise he didn't immediately tell you no. Instead, he gave a light shrug, dropping your hand and pinching your breast again.

"A little pain can be fun," Dick responded, watching you bite your lips in pain, suppressing another whine. "So can a little volume," he added, leaning back down to kiss your neck as you scratched his scalp. "You don't need to be quiet for me."

You smiled faintly, letting out a breathy sigh in response. You were used to being quiet, only let a few moans or whines slip past your lips. You liked the idea of not needing filter yourself for him.

He was somehow managing to turn you on more with his words than your boyfriend did the entire time you were sleeping together.

"Are you sure?" You asked, a little hesitant, slowly dragging your nails down his shoulders gently, just lightly scratching them, making him shudder. "I get pretty loud."

Dick grinned against your neck, nodding as he nuzzled your skin. "So do I," he promised as one of his hands ran over your bare skin, squeezing your waist a little.

He had a bit of an auditory kink and wasn't ashamed of it. It was easy for him to get off to the sound of another person moaning, groaning, whimpering, or whining. Most likely, he thought it was probably because of the ego boost it brought him knowing he was responsible for it.

But he wouldn't admit that last part to anyone.

You were getting impatient and he could tell from the way your hips kept moving ever so slightly against his leg that was nestled in between your thighs. He'd be lying if he said a part of him didn't want to keep teasing you just to see how far he could push it before you started to plead for more. But he could tell you weren't quite used to the satisfaction he wanted to give you and any teasing wouldn't be as well received because of it.

"Can I...?" His hand slid down to the waistband of your underwear, tugging at it and you nodded so quickly he had to suppress a laugh as he dragged them down past your thighs until they were off completely. "So much better like that," he murmured, gently prying your legs open.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched intently while he stared down at you and subconsciously, you began to hold your breath, forgetting for a moment how to breathe correctly.

Dick ran his hand up the inside of your thighs, a small appreciative look sprawled across his face. He was going to enjoy you, he could tell just by seeing how your once heaving chest had fully calmed in anticipation.

"Breathe," he reminded you softly, his fingers dipping in between your legs, running through your folds.

You gasped, finally breathing, closing your eyes for a moment as you felt his fingertips rubbing circles over your clit. "Shit," you whispered, pushing your head back further into the pillow as you felt him push two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes were glued to you, his Adams apple bobbing slightly while watching his fingers pump in and out of you. That was the first time he'd ever heard you swear before, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time.

"Look at me," Dick said, keeping a steady rhythm while massaging your thigh with his other hand. "I have a question."

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling for a second, trying to collect yourself enough to look him in the eye. He repeated himself and finally you lifted your head, locking eyes with him.

"Question?" You repeated, your breaths quickening a little.

He nodded, his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease. He caught your eyes fleeting downward, watching how well you were taking them.

"I want to know something about your boyfriend," he confessed.

He had wanted to put the guy out of his head all together, but he couldn't seem to. Questions kept nagging at him, comparisons kept running through his mind. He wanted to know exactly what your boyfriend like so he could be better than him in every way.

You stumbled over your words a bit, asking: "What about him?"

"It's a simple question," Dick assured you with a slight shrug, pinching the soft skin on your thigh while he rubbed it. "I just want to know how many times he makes you come."

The question made your brain malfunction. He could see it in the way you froze, swallowing harshly. You were already a little hazy, just from a little fingering, but he thought you should still be able to form fill sentences for now. Maybe he underestimated just how badly you needed this.

"C'mon," he goaded sweetly, adding third finger, stretching you out further. "How many rounds sweetheart? Three? Four?"

Deep in the back of his mind he felt he already knew the answer, but he was silently hoping, practically begging in his own way for you not to say it.

"Just- just one round," you eventually answered, clenching the blankets a little harsher. Ten minutes, maybe a little more or less, then you fell asleep.

He wasn't sure if he felt bad for you, or angry at your boyfriend for that. One wasn't what you deserved. He couldn't imagine what kind of man would be content after just one round. Certainly not one with an ounce of self respect.

Your hips twitched slightly and his shifted his hand from your thigh to your waist, pinning you down as he plunged his fingers in and out of you a little faster.

Dick leaned a little closer to you, kissing every inch of your stomach. "You're not getting off that easily tonight," he swore. "I'm gonna make you work for it, alright?" He sucked a dark mark on your abdomen. "I wanna see just how badly your boyfriend is screwing up, not taking full advantage of having such an eager, responsive, girlfriend at his disposal."

He wasn't sure if you were even aware of the fact that you'd just nodded. It seemed more like you'd just done it to answer as fast as possible before laying your head back on the pillow, eyes closed tightly.

That was fine. He didn't need to see your eyes to appreciate the rest of you, the way you were all sprawled out for him, hips squirming even though he'd barely even touched you. If his fingers got this reaction from you, he couldn't wait to see what you'd do when he finally tasted you.

Removing his fingers, he heard the immediate whimper leave your lips, disappointed by the lack of contact when you were clearly getting close to coming. He was glad to see you were finally done hiding those little sounds.

He lifted you hips, propping your leg onto his shoulder, kissing the inside of your thighs, earning a low groan of content as your eyes fluttered open again. You watched as he sucked and bit the sensitive skin. It seemed to take him forever to get all the way to the top, but he just wanted to enjoy this. After all, he'd been thinking about it for so long he wanted to savor every second of it.

Blowing a cold breath against you, he saw the slight shudder crawl down your back before he finally tasted you, licking a long stripe through your slick, eliciting a sweet moan from you.

You slapped your hand over your mouth, muffling the sound and a tinge of irritation crossed his face that it had been cut off.

"Don't do that," he urged, pausing to snake his hand up from your him, dragging your hand away from your mouth. "Let me hear you."

It took you a second, he could see how rigid you were, still unsure if he meant what he said. When he went back to eating you out, instead of covering your mouth you bit your lip. But there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, saying you should stop and let him have what he wanted.

Dick's nose bumped your clit and finally you ran your lip through your teeth, moaning loudly at the sudden, accidental contact. "Fuuuck,"

"That's it," he whispered, sucking on your clit, gladly shoving his face further into your puffy lips. "Let go," he urged. "Don't think about anything else."

He knew he wouldn't. Not a single other thought was in his head aside from you and the different ways you were filling his senses. How warm your legs were around his head, how pretty his name sounded falling from your lips, how salty you tasted on his tongue.

He could see you starting to physically relax, your previously stiff body now melting into the mattress. "Good girl," he praised again, noticing the way your lips twitched into a small smile at his words.

He'd gladly keep sweet talking you all night if you kept acting like this.

Dick could feel your legs tighten around his head, squeezing him harder as you clawed the bed sheets a little tighter. How you weren't ripping them with your nails, he wasn't sure.

Another strand of curses fell from your lips and found himself smirking as slipped his fingers back inside you again, hearing another loud moan bounce off the walls.

"Oh, God," you hissed as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, licking the arousal that was still leaking from you as he ate. If you let him, he'd keep going for a long time.

"Better hope he's not watching," Dick teased, feeling your hands thread through his hair, tugging on his locks making him groan, the sound of his voice vibrating against your cunt.

It hurt, yes, feeling you yank so hard. But as you pointed out earlier, he was indeed a bit of a masochist and he didn't really care how hard you pulled as long you weren't pushing him away.

"C'mon," he encouraged, keeping your squirming hips pinned to the mattress while you tried to lift them, tried to move, to do anything aside from just laying there and take it. "You can do it."

There was a tightening in your stomach, another loud moan escaping your lips that made you wonder if your neighbors had heard it. His fingers curled inside you and even as he held you down your back still arched, lifting off the mattress slightly as you came, your grip on his hair and the sheets tightening even more until your knuckles were practically white.

Dick hummed in content, a sound he was sure you couldn't hear with how disoriented you sunk back into the pillows, your eyes closed, your breasts rising and falling as you panted. He was sure he saw just the littlest bit of sweat starting to form on your forehead.

Your legs loosened around his neck in exhaustion and he slowly stopped pumping his fingers, pulling them out and licking them clean before reaching up to drag your hand from his hair.

Dick took your hand intertwining your fingers with his as he slowly, gently licked up as much of your come as he could, getting it on his nose and chin.

Running his other hand up your sides, caressing the warm skin a bit, another soft whine came from you as you slowly opened your eyes, watching as you realized you realized he was still down there, enjoying himself greatly.

You squeezed his hand as he sucked the sensitive skin, not trying to rile you up, merely soothing any residual arousal you may have had while also getting to taste you for a little bit longer.

Not long enough though, he thought to himself.

You blinked a few times, your eyes still fuzzy from squeezing them shut so tightly. Once your vision cleared up, the only thing you could stare at was him- the way he was staring back, his gaze locked on you while he was finishing up.

God, you looked pretty with your hair all frizzy and your and chest covered in hickeys. He finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

In a quick second his face was near yours again, simply looking at you and your blown pupils. He could see how puffy your lips were from all the kissing and how hard you'd been biting them while trying to stay quiet before giving up on censoring yourself.

"You did so good for me," he murmured quietly, brushing the hair out of your face his hand trailing down your neck, lightly brushing over the bruises he left.

You cheeks heated slightly at his words, but thankfully they were already so red he didn't notice, bringing his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth with no resistance. You hummed, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Dick pulled back, his hard erection rubbing against your leg as he nuzzled your neck slightly. "You gonna take care of me now?" He asked, eliciting a small sound of agreement.

"Mhm," you nodded immediately, your free hand fiddling with the waistband of his boxers, impatiently waiting for him to take them off.

Normally, Dick didn't give a shit about letting a girl please him. He'd derive his pleasure from them one way or another, but he couldn't shake the feeling that you wanted, maybe even needed to feel like you were participating. Like you were something right, making him happy.

He had a feeling your boyfriend wasn't very good at letting you take care of him, even though you clearly liked it.

He moved the hair away from your neck and pressed his lips to it softly, peppering light kisses along it. "You want to make me feel good right?" He whispered in your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. "That makes you happy?"

You felt your chest tighten as he let go of your hand and gingerly trailed the back of knuckles over your collarbone until he started massaging your breasts again.

"Uh huh," You felt your stomach start to heat up again, your cunt getting wet as if you didn't just come a minute or two ago.

You'd always wondered what it was about him that made girls fall at his feet so easily and had them begging for him to take them home when they were drunk or hell, sometimes stone cold sober.

Now you knew.

It was like every single thing he did seemed to turn you on, from his words, to his gentle touch, the feeling of his breath on your neck and the smell of his cologne. What the hell kind of magic made him so damn addictive to be around.

"How happy, I wonder," Dick mumbled, a mix of teasing and curiosity in his voice as trailed his down your stomach slowly, his fingers slipping back in-between your folds, met with nothing but arousal. "Very, it seems."

God, you were eager to please him.

You inhaled, taking a deep breath, your chest hitting his as he rubbed tight circles over your already sensitive clit, causing you to close your eyes, pursing your lips tightly.

"Shit," you sucked in even more air through your teeth, making a slight hiss. "Please," you whispered, meeting his eyes. "Please just-" your hips lifted slightly. "-just like that."

He could tell it hurt more than anything else, the nerves in your body hadn't settled yet. But there was also a feeling of enjoyment behind it. That masochism kind of pain that he knew all too well and had a feeling you were starting to realize you liked as well.

Dick grinned a little in satisfaction, proud that he clearly knew you better than your own man did. "Mmm... See, you know what you like. Why doesn't your boyfriend?" He asked, still mumbling into your ear, as he pressed himself against you a little harder, creating a bit more friction. Not enough.

It wasn't what he wanted. You were. To feel how wet you were, the texture of your walls, the way you clenched him tightly. Just imagining it made him lose it a little more.

You gave a light shrug, finally exhaling once you knew he wouldn't stop. He was having fun, clearly. But it wasn't quite a game to him the way you always thought it was to him.

Women were his conquest but he wasn't treating you like another notch on his belt. He was treating you like a person, a prize, even. It was oddly satisfying.

You let out another low moan, this one far softer than you'd been a minute ago and kept your eyes trained on the massive bulge in grey boxer- the way it pressed against the fabric, precum dampening it while he grinded slightly on your leg, still nuzzling your neck, toying with you hair.

Dick was practically denying himself what he wanted all because it was too much fun to keep whispering in your ear, trailing his fingertips across your shoulders making you shiver.

The realization of how much of his control was slipping, how badly he wanted you coming across with his ragged breaths were becoming as he breathed down your neck was driving you crazy, making it hard not to want to please him in some way.

"What do you want?" He asked, pulling away from your neck to look at you again as his fingers slipped up and down through your cunt a few times in between rubbing your clit again. "Want me to stop?"

He didn't want to and he didn't think you wanted him too either, but he knew you weren't used to coming multiple times in the same night and he was still planning to fuck you senseless at some point tonight. He didn't want to wear you out before he even got to be inside of you.

You shook your head a little, your panting getting heavier again. "No," you whispered, swallowing dryly. "Please don't."

Dick loved how you kept saying please, not quite begging but still asking, reminding him he was in control. He couldn't get enough of that feeling, even if he tried.

"Okay," he agreed, a little out of breath himself as he kept rubbing his erection against your leg, trying to get some form of relief from it.

The only thing it was doing was making it harder for him to keep his cool while also trying to please you. But he still couldn't bring himself to stop, he would practically be in pain if he did.

When he slipped his fingers back inside you, a loud moan broke up the comfortable monotony of what you were doing and he cut you off with a kiss, muffling your sound with his mouth.

He wanted to hear the end of it, truly, but the swelling of your lips had gotten significantly less noticeable and he hated to see it. You were just so close, so kissable. It wasn't his fault.

Dick rested his forehead against yours, the sound of your moans and his groans were filling the room and yet it felt like they were contained to the space between you, the little bubble you'd created for yourselves.

Your neighbors probably didn't feel the same way though. But you didn't particularly care much. They were kind of assholes anyway, always using the blender at six am.

His fingers curled inside you and you swore again, feeling the muscles in your abdomen tightening again, your breaths quickening even faster

"You're almost there," Dick muttered, swallowing. His throat felt dry, his panting growing heavier. "I know you are." You had to be.

He wasn't cruel enough to pull his fingers out of you before you came, not when you were this close. But he also couldn't keep himself together for much longer, he was too damn desperate to feel you from the inside.

You let out another loud moan, your nails dragging across his shoulder as threaded his free hand through your hair, tugging on it, pulling your head back to kiss the front of your neck.

Dick hissed in pain but he didn't really give a shit. Not when it felt so good after the burning subsided. He wouldn't be surprised if you breaking skin, pricking blood. He'd worry about that later. Or not.

"Fuck, Dick," You moaned his name and his cock twitched at the mere sound of your voice.

He yanked your hair a little harder, admiring how messy your makeup looked in this lighting as you tried and failed to keep your eyes open. "I'm trying," he murmured.

Boy, was he trying. But he knew you needed to come one more time before you were relaxed and stretched enough to let him inside of you. Besides, the more sensitive, the better. You'd be even more responsive, if that was possible. Maybe he'd even get to hear you beg.

With a shaky breath, he wrapped his fingers around your hand, which was gripping the back of his neck, holding him against you. He slowly moved your hand down, trailing it in between the two of you until it was directly over your heat.

Dick pressed your fingers down, guiding them in little circles over your clit while he looked down, in between, watching for a second before looking back up at you. "Just like that," he breathed with a small nod. "You gonna get yourself there while I help?"

He had no doubt that you were used to getting yourself off, probably late at night after your boyfriend left you unsatisfied or right before he came home in hopes that it would make you more sensitive so the experience would be better. Or maybe that's just what he liked to imagine.

You nodded, your eyes locked with his while panting, your mouth dropped open in the shape of an O. You had touched yourself, sure. What girl hadn't at some point? But never like this. Not with someone watching. And so eagerly too.

Feeling his fingers inside of you, now mixed with the sensations of your own hand, pushed you over the edge and your head fell against the pillow as you moaned, unable to watch him watching you, even as hot as it was. Damn him for turning you into an exhibitionist in under a few hours.

Your back arched and you felt the warmth of his chest as it pressed against yours, his ragged breaths and gutteral groans that were groaning in volume both drowned out by you. Which he didn't mind in the slightest.

Dick breathed heavily, trying to keep his eyes on you while still rubbing his clothed erection against your leg, not creating nearly enough friction to keep himself satisfied.

"I need you to come," he muttered, dropping his face into the crook of your neck, unable to hold his head up much longer. "I need to be inside you. I can't do that until you finish." His voice was raspy and desperate while mumbling into ear as he sucked on your skin.

His teeth scraped against your neck his free hand massaging one of your breasts while he trailed sloppy kisses down your flesh, swirling his tongue around your nipple before his mouth latched onto one of them, sucking at it, teasing it in-between his teeth.

He knew that having them bit and tugged likely hurt with how sensitive they were, but it also seemed to be that last missing piece of stimulation you needed to finally come again. Your back arched further and he nearly came himself listening to how loudly you moaned his name.

"Shit," you swore, falling back down, hitting the mattress with a light bounce.

Dick could see the light sheen of sweat on your forehead getting worse, the way your body was obviously tired, not used to so many different sensations at once and in a row.

As he pulled his fingers out of you, he could see the way your hips flinched in pain and he knew it would hurt like hell when he finally slid inside of you. For you, at least. He was sure he'd enjoy it greatly.

Dick managed to stop himself from grinding against you just long enough to regain a little of his composure. Your eyes were still closed, exhausted. He gently tapped your cheek with his hand. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice quiet but still out of breath.

It took a few seconds for you to open your eyes, which felt longer than they were with how much pain he was in. He wanted to be sweet, to take a moment and make sure you were okay. Maybe even ask if you wanted some water the way he'd occasionally do if a woman looked like she was close to tapping out. But he was so damn impatient it was taking every ounce of self control he had not to simply flip you over and have you then and there the way he wanted to.

You didn't say anything when you finally managed to open your eyes, at least partially to look at him. "Hhhm.." a slight hum left your lips.

"Open," he said simply, gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger with one of his hands. You squinted in confusion, still disoriented, but listened anyway, parting your lips for him to slide two of his fingers, covered in come, into your mouth. "Suck."

The familiar salty taste made your eyes snap open, and you looked up at him as he nodded slightly, encouraging you to do as he asked. Maybe it was how hazy you still were, or the conviction he said it with, but you did as he said, the way you'd been doing all night.

Sucking his fingers clean, he hummed in approval. "So submissive for me," he murmured, his fingers still in your mouth. "You gonna stay this way all night, right?" He asked.

You nodded weakly, making a sound of agreement, almost gagging as he pushed your tongue down slightly.

Dick suppressed a groan that threatened to escape him. He loved how damn willing you were. It wasn't some facade of obedience the way he was used to girls giving him. They were almost too eager, if possible. They did too much, tried too hard to be what they thought he wanted and ended up compromising what they actually liked.

But this wasn't an act, he could tell. You liked this.

"You gonna let me do whatever I want?" He asked suggestively. "Anything?"

You nodded again, tired and your skin sticky, still craving him close to you. After making you come like that, not once but twice, anything he wanted, you'd give him if possible. No matter how tired you were or how bad you hurt.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, running his thumb over your bottom lip before pressing a soft kiss against them. He kissed your lips, then your cheek and your jaw before pulling away.

"Good," Dick whispered, fixing some of the lose strands of your hair. "Because I need to be inside of you. Do you understand that? I need you." He sounded practically desperate and the funny thing is, he didn't care. "But it'll probably hurt after that second round."

You reached down, running your fingers across the elastic of his boxer briefs, the tight material clearly causing him discomfort. "Okay," you agreed without hesitation. Maybe there was something to this masochism thing after all.

"Okay," he repeated quietly, internally relieved you hadn't said you were too tired or sore to actually take him. He wasn't sure if he could handle that. "Do you want me to wear a condom?"

Dick always gave any partner he was with a choice. He had some on him, for obvious reasons, and she might too, if her boyfriend had been over recently. What an awful thought to have right before he fucked her, he thought to himself.

You didn't think about it very long before shaking your head. "No," you breathed, your hands holding his shoulders stiffly, wanting him closer. Was it bad that you wanted him to crush you completely?

He admittedly caught off guard by that. Most, almost all women, even the ones on birth control wanted him to wear a condom and as uncomfortable as they were, he obliged. But he wasn't going to question your reasons for saying no, he was glad you did.

You had been fiddling the waistband of his boxer briefs and even just feeling the tips of your fingers sliding under the elastic made him feel desperate for you.

"Can I...?" Your unfinished question lingered and a small smile pulled at his lips as he nodded, encouraging you to take them off.

Tugging at them for a second, you took them off, at least enough for him to do the rest and watched as he threw them somewhere presumably close to the rest of your combined clothes, maybe further.

That didn't really matter right now though, not when he was entirely naked in front of you and you couldn't stop staring, admittedly slightly intimidated.

If your mouth wasn't so damn dry you might have started salivating, watching as he wrapped his hand around his cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip. His head fell back slightly, a groan of contentment leaving his throat.

You suddenly rather selfish, realizing how damn hard he'd been. You knew it was bad, you'd felt him seeking some form of relief by grinding against you, but you were so caught up in the feeling of his hands and his mouth to think about stopping to take care of him.

You were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts as you felt Dick's hand on your thigh, a look of contemplation crossing his face for a second. "I can't decide if I want to see your pretty face," he murmured, his breathing picking up. "Or if I wanna flip you over."

He seemed to make up his mind by himself and you watched as he pushed your legs further apart, lining himself up with your entrance. He ran his cock through your slick folds for a second, eliciting a pained gasp from you. You were so damn sensitive it hurt, but you knew-or at least hoped-it would fade once he was inside.

Dick inhaled sharply, his hands gripping your hips extremely hard, digging into your flesh as he pushed himself into your cunt, feeling the warmth of your walls which were already clenching, making things difficult. You would have been squirming had it not been for how hard he was holding you down.

He took a ragged breath and leaned down whisper in your ear. "I need you to relax," he spoke softly, his grip on you getting slightly softer. He wet his bottom lip. "Unclench sweetheart."

You exhaled, closing your eyes, trying to make it easier for him. With how impatient he seemed you would have assumed he'd just shove himself in regardless of how it felt for you. But he didn't.

Gently, he pushed his cock deeper into you, stretching you more. The stinging was sure to cause pain tomorrow, but for now you didn't mind, trying to focus on keeping from clenching.

"Good girl," Dick praised, his voice gravely. "Just like that...you can take me."

A small whimper left your lips and he bit his lip harder, every extra inch of himself he pressed into you was swallowed and unrestrained by a condom, he could feel it all.

It had been so long since someone had let him do this raw, he'd nearly forgotten how much better it felt. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd been deprived for so long or if you truly just felt better than the other women he'd been with, but either way, it felt incredible.

Dick was pure bliss as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours. His eyes fluttered open, looking at you and he could tell you were trying to get used to how he felt, memorize his ridges and how full you were. It was attractive.

"Fuuuck," he leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his, staying that way for a moment. "You feel so warm."

A slight blush spread across your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him. His grip on your hips tightened as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, slowly pulling out, immediately causing you to hiss in pain.

"You're okay," he mumbled against your lips, pushing the entire length of his cock back inside of you again, a bit quicker this time. "You're making me feel so good." Dick kissed you again, bottoming out for the second time with a groan. He dropped his head. "So fucking good," he whispered to himself.

It hadn't exactly been a long time since he'd had sex, but being inside of you felt like a clean slate of sorts for some reason. By now, he was usually comparing the woman he was with to the ones he'd been with. But for some reason, he couldn't envision the face of any other woman he'd slept with, even if he tried. Trying to recall how they'd felt around him was futile while he was in you.

After a second, he lifted his head again, exhaling heavily before pulling out, this time watching as your cunt swallowed his length making him shudder. He hummed, his voice getting caught in his throat as he watched. "Look at how well I fit inside you," he demanded. "See how good you take me?"

Your eyes were glued to the scene, watching him pump his cock in and out of you. You were sure his question was rhetorical but you nodded anyway, starting to lose your breath.

His lips found the side of your neck, as if they needed to do something and if it wasn't your lips he was going to kiss it had to be your neck. He sucked wet, sloppy hickeys on your skin, darkening the already bruised skin just to make sure they didn't fade too soon.

Dick nuzzled your neck with his nose. "You expecting me to pull out?" He wondered, his voice low as he tried to hold it together long enough to hear your answer.

It would take more effort and self control on his part to stay in the right frame of mind. But if that's what you wanted, he'd do it. You'd still need to take a pill the next morning either way and he'd of course pay for that, but some girls felt like it was safer if he came on them instead of in them.

You shook your head, moaning again, before make a sound of disagreement. "Nuh uh," you tried to swallow but your throat was too dry. "No...no," another moan left your lips, hips trying to squirm even through he wouldn't let them. "Don't... please don't..."

Fuck. She was going to be the death of him if she kept letting him do whatever he what. But God, was he now looking forward to coming inside her.

Pumping in and out of your cunt, Dick's breaths becoming more and more erratic as he found a pace he liked. Now that he had your permission to lose himself entirely, he wouldn't stop for anything short of a goddamn natural disaster.

It was satisfying, in a way, just to watch how well you took him, in and out, over and over, causing him to slowly come undone.

The pain that you'd felt when he first entered you was slowly dying down, replaced by the overwhelming desire to have more of him. Every time he pulled out, even though it was only for a second made you feel empty, almost hollow.

"I-" Dick swallowed, his head resting in the crook of your neck, as he hovered over you, his body rocking back and forth as he slammed into you. "Shiiit," he swore, his breath hot against your skin. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured through ragged breaths as one of his hands went from pinning your hips down to right beside your face, trying to keep from collapsing on you.

His words made something in your chest swell with...what? Pride, maybe? Happiness? You weren't sure. Whatever it was, it felt good. He felt good.

Gripping his back harshly, your fingertips dug into his shoulder blades, your moans drowning out the sound of hus skin slapping against yours. "F- faster," you told him, even though you didn't really need to. He already knew what you needed better than you did.

Or maybe he knew what he needed and your needs just happened to align at the moment, either way, his pace quickened and he let go of your hip with one of his hands, using it to lift your leg, wrapping it around him slightly. That alone, caused a deep moan from him. You loved that sound. Loved hearing how good he felt, how much he was enjoying your body.

"I'm so close," Dick mumbled into your neck, barely loud enough for you to hear it. "You're doing so well."

You whimpered something and frankly, neither of you heard what it was. It was quiet, illegible, he was too busy pounding in and out of you to pay attention to anything else and your mind was so fuzzy you didn't even know you were talking as strands of curses fell from your lips along with his name over and over. That he did hear. That, he loved.

Every time you said his name he could feel the pit in his stomach coiling, getting tighter and tighter as you babbled mindlessly- loudly. Loud enough to drown out his own sounds, which was no small feat since he was known to be vocal. He brought his hand down, sliding his palm over your chest, watching you wither under his touch as he pinched and pulled at the sensitive skin.

Dick could have finished by now and he was close to doing it even if he didn't want to, but he was trying to last a little longer, to enjoy how warm you felt around him, how perfect he seemed to fit inside you. He was known for always being the best at everything, winning every first prize possible. But as a general rule, in bed, he always finished last. Always.

"You gonna come for me again?" He asked, out of breath and barely able to form full sentences. You were as close as him, he knew. Barely holding on for some reason he wasn't quite sure of.

You babbled something he couldn't make out in return and he smiled faintly against your skin, kissing it harshly, nipping your neck as you nodded. "Uh huh," you whined, tilting your head back further, hoping he'd kiss your neck more, the wetness from his mouth on your skin driving you closer to the edge. "Please..." You panted, your back arching. "...Please..."

"I need to feel it, sweetheart," he added, swallowing, lacing his hand in your hair, tugging on it. "I need to feel you come with me in you." He groaned. "Fuuck... Please come for me," he said, desperate to know how it would feel.

He bit your shoulder, probably hard enough to leave teeth marks, trying to suppress another loud moan. He'd feel bad for your neighbors if he wasn't enjoying himself so much. Pulling away, he soothed the mark with his tongue, pressing it to your skin where he'd bit.

Dick's words did something to you and you dug your fingers into his shoulder blades even harder. Your nails drew blood, the pain causing a loud, deep moan to leave the back of his throat.

It hurt like hell and knew that sting would last, but the irrational part of his brain loved it, knowing there would be marks in the morning. Proof that he'd finally had you, and properly too, not in his car or as a quickly in a bathroom. But here, in your bed.

As his hips met yours again, you gasped, the heat flooding through your body as you came for the third time that night. Clutching him tighter, you squeezed your eyes shut harder, getting lightheaded from the feeling.

"God damnit," he hissed in pain, another deep, pained, nearly pornographic moan leaving his mouth as you dragged your nails down his back surely leaving a trail of blood as you clawed at his skin.

Dick's thrusts got sloppier, unable to keep it together any longer as he felt your walls clenching around him, squeezing his cock as it started to twitch, the coil in his stomach becoming unbearable.

He came seconds later, his mind a hazy mess as he gripped you even tighter, causing small bruises to start forming on your hips while he made a few more lazy thrusts as he worked himself through his orgasm.

He dropped his head, resting it on your shoulder, the light sheen of sweat on his skin nothing in comparison to how wet his forehead was. His breathing was a mess, his chest heaving and his arms tired, practically numb, somehow still holding himself up even though he couldn't quite feel them anymore.

Your grip on his back loosened as you laid there, your hands falling from holding him to resting on the sheets of the mattress. He didn't realize it for a while, unable to think straight as the burning in his back started to take over. God, it had hurt. But it had been so worth it.

Dick took a few deep breaths, trying to collect himself. He was still inside of you and he could feel how your walls still fluttered, occasionally clamping down on him every few seconds. He hated to think about how hard he was getting even after just coming.

Lifting his head, he gazed at you, or more accurately, how utterly spent you looked. Absolutely, completely exhausted.

The worst part was, Dick wasn't.

He was a bit worn out, sure, but he was mostly just riled up.

Dick's grip on your hip loosened, running it up and down your side gently. Bringing it up, he cupped your breast slightly, causing a small hum from you. He trailed his hand up to your face, stroking your cheek for a moment, trying to get you to open your eyes as you rested.

"Your boyfriend is a fucking moron," he mumbled, tracing your jaw, and running his thumb over your bottom lip. You opened your eyes. "He has such a pretty girl, such an enthusiastic one... doesn't even realize how good she feels."

You hummed and shifted slightly under him and he didn't know if it was on purpose or on accident, either way, the movement caused him to groan. He ran his hand back down to your waist, then your upper thigh.

"God," he rasped, looking down staring at the bulge he left in your stomach while remaining in you. "You're so damn beautiful," he breathed.

He thought you were absolutely gorgeous, even dripping in sweat with your hair messed up. No, actually. Especially like this. With your chest heaving up and down and your pupils blown wide open.

It stirred something in him, seeing himself still inside you seeing how fatigued you were. To say nothing of the feeling of his come seeping out of your cunt, sliding down your leg. It turned him on all over again.

Dick was trying to control himself, truly, he was. He knew you were tired and he wanted to respect that. But when you leaned down, capturing his lips in a soft, passionate kiss, the blood rushes south again.

His other hookups didn't kiss him like this. They wanted fast and aggressive, not slow and sensual or meaningful. This was.... different, nice. He slid his tongue in your mouth, feeling your hand wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Can you-" he cut off the kiss for a second to breath. "-Fuck-" he swore under his breath, trying to calm himself down. "-Can you go again, sweetheart?" He finally asked, a little hesitant.

He didn't want you to feel like you had to say yes, but at the same time, there was a pleading in his voice and eyes and you could tell he wasn't as relaxed or tired as you.

"I-" your breath caught in your throat. You really weren't sure. You were sore, nearly to the point of pain. Exhausted and wanting sleep more than anything. But he looked so cute, his hair fluffed and his skin soaked in sweat. "I don't know," you admitted quietly, cupping his cheek.

Dick leaned into it. "Try?" He whispered, feeling the tension in his body building again, the urge to just fuck the stress out of his body. "Please."

At his request, you had no choice but to give in. You nodded, nuzzling your nose against his. "Okay," you agreed.

Immediately the stress dissipated from his shoulders. Dick slid out of you, slowly sliding his hand under your side. He kissed you, before flipping you over so you were on your stomach.

His hand immediately went to your hair, running his hands through it calmly, pushing it to the side to better see your face as it pressed into the pillow. He wanted to give you a few seconds, just to breathe. Even if he didn't need that time, he assumed you did. You looked tired.

Part of him wondered what happened after this, when the pleasant hormones in your head all faded and the realization that you'd slept with someone other than your boyfriend, become a cheater in the span of a few hours kicked in. Would you throw him out immediately? Let him stay a little while? Longer than a little while?

He wasn't sure and honestly, he wasn't looking forward to finding out. He just wanted to stay in this moment, where you were in front of him, sprawled out, your hand loosely clutching your pillow in anticipation as he messed with your hair, gently running his finger through it. It was sticky from sweat, tangled from all the movement. You'd need to wash it. Wash your sheets too, and your clothes if you didn't want any remnants of his cologne to linger.

Dick couldn't be patient any longer. He was fully hard again and you were simply laying there. He ran his hand up the inside of your thigh, through your come, mixed with his, and carefully spread your legs further apart eliciting a little whine from you. 

He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Just tell me if it's too much," he promised. "I'll stop."

You nodded, or tried to, as best as you could with your face against the pillow. You felt his lips on your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to the skin, sucking a few hickeys on your skin.

Dick traced your shoulder blades with his fingers, trying to distract you from any pain you may have felt as he slipped back inside of you causing a sharp inhale from you and a deep exhale from him.

He hummed softly, mostly to himself, still tracing soothing circles on your back. He wet his lip, trying not to get carried away too fast. He pressed another kiss to your back, unable to help himself.

"I think—" he whispered, slowly starting to pump in and out of you. "—that if you were my girl, I'd take far better care of you."

Dick wasn't a girlfriend kind of girl, he had just wanted to get laid, to conquer you like every other woman on campus. But the thought of letting your boyfriend have you back after he'd been so deep in you, felt how good you squeezed him, heard how pretty your voice sounded when you moaned his name...he was dreading it.

He placed his hands firmly on the back of your shoulders, steadying himself as he slowly rocked back and forth. "Treat you like this every night...hell, every morning..." He groaned slightly, the tension leaving his body as you pulled it from him. "...whenever you wanted it."

He thought of all the places he could have fucked you if you were his- over the kitchen counter, on the sofa, in the shower. Maybe, just maybe he'd even take you in the back of his car. It was his prized possession which he'd never ever risk staining. He didn't even let his friends eat in it. But for you? He didn't mind staying in between your legs for a few hours in the backseat.

"You've been so perfect," he mumbled, the relief flooding his body as his hips slowly kept meeting yours. "Doing everything I ask."

He would bet that he could get you to do almost anything, he wouldn't even have to try. You'd just want to. You were kinky, he could tell. He was just dying to know how kinky.  

Praise kink, certainly. Masochism was becoming more and more apparent. And you were still letting him touch you even though every touch felt like your nerves were burning, which made him think overstimulation was a turn on. Or maybe just compersion and the desire to make him happy drove you to do anything he asked. You could be submissive, clearly and you probably would have let him fuck you in his car had he not asked to come inside, so it wasn't a leap to assume you could have exhibitionist tendencies. 

A small, pained whimper fell from your mouth as you bit your lip. He could tell you were overstimulated, that you should tap out. But you weren't. That pretty much confirmed his suspicion about that particular kink. 

Dick reluctantly paused for a moment, his hips stuttering before stopping. He ran his hand through your hair, jostling it gently again trying to draw your attention elsewhere. "Need me to stop?" He asked quietly, really hoping you said no.

"S'fine," you murmured, taking a breath, the ache between your legs growing. It would feel good again you reminded yourself, you just had to wait.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo. "Okay," he replied softly, pulling back out, his movements slow and deliberate as he snaked his hand under your stomach, gently lifting your hips so they were slightly further in the air. "Stay like that for me, yeah?" he mutter softly, running the back of his knuckles across your spine. "So I can see you at a different angle."

He dipped his head, quiet for a moment while appreciating the shape of your back and your ass,  groping the soft flesh, the pretty contours of your sides, noting and the way your shoulder blades kept twitching with every soft touch as his fingertips floated across your skin gently.

Again you made a sound resembling one of agreement, gripping your pillow harder as you felt him enter you again, this time while your ass was in the air. It felt far less personal, a lot more like what you had first expected. Doubts began to creep into your mind, wondering if this might have been his plan the entire time— to make you trust him and wear you out until he could take you however he wanted to without having you stop him. 

Then you felt as his fingers pried at your grip, getting it to loosen on the pillow and hold his hand instead and the thought left your mind as quickly as it had entered. 

You could feel the heat from Dick's back as he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck while finding a steady rhythm, the kind that would build his climax slowly and let him enjoy every single deep, hard thrust. 

Dick gripped our hand tighter and held your hip with his other, his fingers digging into it as he slowly pumped his cock into you, feeling your walls flutter around him in sensitivity every once in a while. His breaths got a bit ragged as he watched the arch of your back deepen. He wasn't sure if you had done it on purpose or by mistake, but either way, it felt good. It gave him a straight shot of your ass, which he couldn't help but grope at least a little. 

A few content sighs left your lips, each getting a little longer and a little louder than the last. He knew whatever pain you had been feeling a second ago was rapidly disappearing, replaced by pleasure. 

He let out a strangled groan, trying to keep himself from moving too fast and accidentally hurting you. His hand slid back to your hip, holding it firmly as he hummed. "Good girl," he whispered. "Keep your back arched exactly like that." He intertwined your fingers, his voice taking a slightly teasing tone as he added: "Such a natural." 

He could hear something that sounded like a mix of an amused and skeptical huff, which brought a small, genuine smile to his lips. He was grateful you couldn't see it with how far into the pillow your face was pressed. 

Dick dipped his head and let out a loud sigh, bordering on a moan leaving his lips. As good as this felt, he needed a little more because his current tempo wasn't cutting it anymore. As his thrusts got a little quicker, he heard a soft, muffled moan leave your lips and that grin—the one you'd always called stupid— reappeared. 

His hand slid from your hip to underneath, where your clit was still puffy and throbbing. He ran his thumb over it slightly and your body jerked, the sudden sensation catching you off guard. "Shh," he soothed feeling your grip on his hand tighten. "You're alright, sweetheart," he swore. "I'm just trying to see how sensitive you still are." 

Your eyes, which had been closed, flew open at the motion and you felt your hips jerk making him groan as he teased your lower lips slightly, running his fingers through the outer folds that had been stretched from his cock as it continued to penetrate you. 

"Very," you replied, another moan slipping out of your mouth. "So fucking sensitive..."

Dick nodded even though you couldn't see it, his fingers slowly leaving your folds, brushing over your clit one more time, making your hips jerk again and your walls clench. Maybe it was wrong that he kept doing that, knowing how it felt for you, but he couldn't help but like how your reaction made him feel physically. 

"You...." He cut himself off, moaning loudly when he felt your hips meeting his suddenly. He cursed under his breath. "Shiit," he huffed, gripping your hip harder. "Do that again," he demanded, throwing his head back. 

You did, eliciting another moan from him and one from you as well. This was work, unlike when he'd simply been on top of you while you laid there. You had to physically make your body move, force your hips to meet him and at the right time no less. But God, was it an incredible sensation.

"Just like that," he told you, his words barely making sense to either of you at this point. Mmmm," he stared at your ceiling for a moment, his mouth dropped open in an 'O' shape, allowing every obscene sound to slip out completely uninhibited. "You feel amazing," he praised. 

This time, he could feel it, as that sensation built in his stomach again, that he would be as spent as you were after he finished. If you didn't tap out first, that was. 

"I-I can't—" You were panting heavily, struggling to keep up. "I'm gonna—"

"No," Dick cut you off before you could finish, his thrusts getting even faster, making your knees nearly collapse. "Not yet," he told you. "Not until I say so."

You whimpered, biting the pillow, not to suppress your sounds, but merely to keep from coming as you thought about anything aside from how fucking deep he felt inside of you, how overstimulated you were, how wet your legs still felt. The harder you tried not to think about those things, the easier it became to feel every. single. aspect. 

From the deep rumbling in his throat as he moaned, to the feeling of his hands— the one holding yours and one pinned to your hip, helping pull it towards his own with every slap of skin. You couldn't think straight, couldn't remember your name, but you sure as hell could recall his. 

He could tell, as your knuckles turned white while intertwined with his hand that you were doing everything in your power to keep yourself from coming and for some odd reason it made his chest swell with pride at how damn hard you were trying to keep up, to drag out your time together as long as possible. 

Had he had a different angle, he might have been able to see the tears forming in your eyes, he might have even stopped when he saw them brimming. But he didn't.

Dick leaned forward over your ass, his thrusts not only getting sloppier but also shorter as your teeth sunk into the pillow and he pressed himself as far into you as possible, squeezing his eyes closed as hard as he could, finally getting so fucking overwhelmed he couldn't hold on any longer. "Come," he breathed, raggedly, giving you permission at last. 

Most of his words hadn't made sense in a while, but that one clicked in your head. Or maybe it didn't and you were going to come regardless. It didn't really matter because in the end, you still came, your mouth falling wide open with tears flooding from your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you clenched around him, your legs squeezing tightly. 

You would have collapsed then and there if it wasn't for him somehow holding your hip up, keeping your ass in the air so he could keep pounding into you at the angle he had come to greatly enjoy.  As your walls tightened around him, he found himself coming inside of you for the second time that night, milking himself dry as he pumped ropes of come into you only for it to drip from your cunt, down your leg where remnants of your previous session remained. 

As his thrusts slowed to a stop, he panted heavily, slowly letting go of your hip and lowering you back on the bed while staying inside of you. Dick collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing you into the mattress which he might have realized, had he been in the right frame of mind. His chest pressed against your back, his grip on your hand loosening as last but not letting go just yet. 

Instinctively, as the rush in his head slowly died down, his lips automatically found the back of your shoulder, kissing it a few times. You hummed, exhausted, your eyes still closed and it was only as he heard the slight strain in your breathing did he realize that his entire weight was on you. 

Dick let go of your hand and rolled himself off of your back and to the side, opening his eyes to stare at you. You seemed to breathe easier when he wasn't crushing you, but your breaths were still fast and uneven. He lifted his hand, brushing the hair from your face. Your cheeks were bright red and you were now covered in sweat just like him, but it was weirdly attractive to see you like this. To know he had caused it. 

"Look at me," he murmured, letting his hand fall from your hair to your cheek as he noticed there were tears on them. You reluctantly opened your eyes, gazing back at him. "You were crying," he whispered, feeling guilty for not realizing it at the time. 

Had you said something and he didn't hear you? Was he unknowingly causing you pain? 

You leaned into his hand a little, nodding absentmindedly. "Uh huh," you closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath as your breathing calmed slightly. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asked barely above a whisper. 

Even though you felt too tired to keep your eyes open, you tried to, for him. "No," you promised him. "I'm fine, really," you paused, your gaze flitting to his lips and back up to his eyes. "Better than fine." 

Was that too forward? Would telling him you couldn't think straight because he'd fucked you so hard you couldn't remember your own name for a little while seem too brazen? Surely, he knew. He had to. He was the most smug guy on campus. At least, usually. Right now, he didn't look so smug or irritating like you were used to. You liked this version of him more. A lot more. 

A small smile tugged at his lips but he hid it, not wanting to say or do anything that might remind you that he wasn't the one who was supposed to be in bed with you. The idea of letting your boyfriend have you back was killing him, but he was trying his best not to let it bother him. 

Dick knew he needed to separate himself soon, to leave soon. He had accomplished his goal and convinced you to sleep with him, you'd been fun. A lot of fun. Bu now, he needed to bolt, so he could maintain the façade that he was just a heartless bastard content with being a womanizer.

He never stayed. Not ever. That would ruin his reputation, not to mention give women the impression that he actually cared about them enough to stay or to take care of them or be more than a hook up. He didn't and he wasn't. He wasn't an after care kind of guy, or a breakfast in the morning kind of guy either. He was the guy that snuck out in the middle of the night and gave some bullshit excuse about when if and when confronted about it. 

As you closed your eyes again, you felt the bed dip as he stood up. You could see him start to pull his boxers back up and closed your eyes, trying not to feel disappointed as you heard the bedroom door open. 

It was a one time thing. It had to be. This didn't mean anything. 

But, then again, maybe it had, because a few seconds later you heard the water running in the bathroom. What the hell was he doing? 

A few minutes later he came back, having already made himself rather comfortable in your apartment when searching through multiple of your cabinets and stealing the blankets from the couch in the living room. Your eyes opened again as Dick sat back down on the bed, a small, damp washcloth in his hand. 

"Without saying anything he took your arm, running the cool cloth down your skin, the feeling immediately feeling refreshing. 

"What are you doing?" You mumbled as he wiped your neck and chest, the places he'd sucked, licked, bit, and otherwise marked. 

He trailed it down your stomach, over the bruises forming on your hips. "Just trying to make you comfortable sweetheart," he replied quietly.

The nickname fell from his lips as easily as it had all night, but he didn't say it quite the same. It wasn't sensual or arousing, it was gentle. So was the way he dragged the cloth over the inside of your thigh and the way his thumb ran back and forth over your knee when he reached the sensitive areas that would be sore until morning. 

You hissed in pain and he kissed your forehead as he finished wiping your legs. "Just relax," he muttered, tossing the cloth into the laundry basket in the corner. He tugged the sheets you were under off of you, leaving them on the floor by the bed. 

You couldn't quite sit up, your arms and legs not complying enough to do so, but you tried anyway. "Hey, those are my—" 

"Gross blankets?" Dick finished, nodding in agreement. "Yes, they are," he said, sliding his hand under your side. "Roll on your side for me," he suggested tugging you towards him so he could lay a towel over the damp area of the mattress. 

You huffed, both perplexed and annoyed for a moment until you laid flat again, feeling the clean, dry towel under you. That was rather pleasant, actually. He draped a few of the blankets you had sitting on the back of your sofa over you and you immediately reached for soft material, pulling it closer to you. 

"Hang on," he said, gently grabbing your wrist, keeping you from pulling them all the way up to cover yourself. You frowned in confusion, but let go of them, watching he grabbed his shirt from the floor and tugged it over your head. "There," he remarked, satisfied, crawling back in bed next to you. 

You didn't dare ask why he stayed, let alone did so many little nice things when he could have just left, the way she'd been expecting. Instead, you let him reach across to turn the light off, enjoying the warmth of having his body pressed against yours in the dark as he wrapped his arms around you. 

Shifting, you hooked your leg around his waist and he pulled you closer, if possible. With one hand he gripped your thigh as your bare cunt pressed against his abdomen drawing lazy circles, and his other found its way under his shirt you were wearing. He let out a low hum, tilting his head to look at you in the dark. "Comfy?" he asked, his voice laced with a slight touch of sarcasm. 

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Very," you whispered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. 

You tangled your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp slowly and he groaned, leaning further into your touch. "Ohhh, those damn nails," he muttered quietly, enjoying the sensation. If only you had seen what they did to his back earlier. 

You chuckled lightly, doing it a few more times before letting your hand fall from his hair, wrapping it around him to hold him tightly. Dick laid his cheek on top of your head as you nuzzled your nose into his neck, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses as he closed his eyes, falling asleep next to you.