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iamladyp · 1 month ago

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be my Venus of the stars | general marcus acacius

Summary | He's been visiting you for months, fresh off the battlefield, to be cleaned and reborn, but this time, something is different, this time, he might finally touch you back.

Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.8K

Warnings | Set in a bath-house, it is suggested that reader is a sex worker, The General™️ is dirty and needs a bath, as historically accurate as I could make it, use of Latin terms of endearment, explicit smut, handjob, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected PiV, creampie, marking during sex, mention of ancient roman methods of.... not getting pregnant, no use of y/n, reader is a blank slate but does wear a dress.

Authors Note | Listen, I know we know literally nothing about this man, but what I do know is that he looks like a needs a bath and a nice lady to help him destress... so here we are. Leave it to the archaeologist to fall head over heels for the roman general, right? Whilst my ancient archaeological interest has always been Greece, you best believe this is right up my street. We won't talk about the amount of academic papers I read to make this as historically accurate as possible. I hope you love this, and if you do, please consider reblogging, commenting and screaming with me in my ask box!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

He’s weary, his body drooped from the weight of his armour, but you suspect there are other things that are weighing him down too.

He’s been gone a while, sent away to some far-fought battle, never knowing if the view of his back when he leaves will be the last you ever see of him or not.

As he always does, he drops a coin purse onto the table, sliding it across to the bathhouse owner, before he turns, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Always you, only you, he’s never paid attention to anyone else in this damned place and he never will. His face is covered in dust, dirt and grime, his clothes in no better shape - you know you have your work cut out for you, but you find that when it’s him, you don’t mind at all.

It’s a familiar dance, how he follows a few steps behind you, the clinking of armour filling the hallway as you lead him to the private bath. You do as you always do, and open the door, letting him move inside as you let the door click shut behind you.

The hour is late, candles the only source of light, the sounds from the street below filling the silence as you ready the water for him. Warmed already, you drop a few rose petals into the water and pick out the oil you know he likes. It strikes you then that he’s not undressing, something he normally does himself. Instead, he stands at the window, staring out into the darkness.

“It is ready, sir.” You speak softly, motioning your hand to the bath when he turns around.

“Come,” he all but whispers, “Help me.”

You step closer, following his lead as he starts to undo whatever straps keep his heavy armour in place, dropping his hands when he knows you’ve got the hang of it. You take it off, piece by piece, setting it gently on the ground until he’s just in the under layers he wears.

Night is falling, and the candles in the room and the orange light from outside bathe him in gold as he motions for you to do the rest. Your hands, trailing up his body, lifting the tunic he’s wearing under his armour, over his head. There’s a hiss of pain as he lifts his arm, then a sigh of relief his tunic is gone, and it’s at this moment, that you realise he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

This man, born and bred for the fight, with brown eyes softer than you’ve ever seen staring down at you as you undress him.

“You can touch me.” You offer.

You look at him, eyes through eyelashes, as his roam across your body, draped in cotton and pinned in just the right place to accentuate every inch of you - it was a gift from a wealthy customer many years ago, a traveller who had taken to you, promised to take you with him but left you with nothing but a nice dress.

He goes to reach out, but stops short of touching the material, “It is such a pretty dress,” he muses, stepping back from you to let the final garment he’s wearing drop to the floor, “I must bathe first.’

You aren’t shy in the way you look at him, you’ve seen him without clothes more times than you care to admit, you’ve touched him, made him sigh, made him cum more than once, but he’s never once reached out to you. But there’s something different tonight, something charged, and as he walks towards the bath, muscles in his back rippling as he does, you wonder if tonight might be the night you finally know what it is to be touched by him.

He lowers himself into the warm water, groaning as he settles his back against the metal, warm from the water and from the fire lit to keep it that way.

You do as always and kneel beside it, picking up the small bowl on the table next to you. You scoop some water into it and let it drain across his curls, his head tipped back because he knows this dance. Fingers run through his wet hair, freeing his locks from the weeks of dirt and sand and blood and fight, until the water runs clear.

Then, you move onto his body. It’s arguably your favourite part, letting your hands run across his skin. He rests his arms on the lip of the bath, a well-rehearsed dance now, and lets your pour the scented oil onto his skin. You massage it in, thumbs digging in where his armour has left marks, easing weeks of tension with firm presses. You use the strigel to scrape the oil and the dirt off until his skin is clean.

Only once you have used your hands to rinse him off do you consider moving lower. You always do, run oil soaked hands up and down his legs under the water, feel his muscles tighten when you drag them higher, which is how it always ends up with your firm hand wrapped around his cock. Your fingers dip below the water but his strong fingers grip at your wrist as they go to drift lower to his legs.

You let him guide your hand, your eyes meeting his own chocolate-brown orbs, which are blown wide and dark, as he shows you what he really wants. No preamble this time, as your fingers meet the skin of his semi-hard length.

“I haven’t finished.” You purr at him, letting your fingers close around him anyway.

“I find I don’t care,” He speaks back, tone low, “I have been gone for weeks, this is all I want.”

You watch as his head tips back and his body lowers into the water when you start the languid pumps of your hand up and down his cock, gripping tighter when you reach the tip, loosening when you move down. You’ve seen him for years, you know how he likes it, slow to start with, faster to bring him over the edge.

There’s something different this time though, of all the years he’s seen you, he’s never once touched you, only ever a tight grip on your arm as he comes, or a drag of his thumb across your cheek when he leaves. His grip tightens around your wrist enough to still your movements, then, he’s dragging your hand away. You wonder for a moment if you’ve done something wrong, until he shifts and stands.

You’ve seen him without his clothes enough times to know every dip of his body, ever mark and scar that he’s accumulated, but as he stands now, water dripping from his skin, cock hard and heavy in front of you, he looks nothing short of God-like. All the statues in all of Rome could never compare to this man in front of you.

Standing from your place on your knees, you watch as he steps from the bath, water pooling on the floor as he walks towards you. He lets a hand drape across your waist, palm flat against your back as he pulls your body to his own, wet skin against dry garments, head dipped so his mouth is a whisper away from your own.

“Tell me I can,” He asks, “I want to kiss you.”

You let your hands entwine at the back of his neck, wet curls locked between fingers, so you can drag him closer to you. When his lips finally meet yours, all the years of wondering what it was like prove worth it. They’re chapped, dry from whatever battlefield he’s been within, but it’s perfect, as they slant across yours and he pulls your body tighter to his own. He’s gentle, unlike other men, his tongue is tentative as it drags across your bottom lip, mouth opening against your own as his tongue melds with yours behind your teeth.

There is movement that you only register at the last moment, when the backs of your knees hit the bed in the corner of your room. You tumble down upon it, lying and watching as he watches you, fist tight around his own cock as you start to undrape your dress from your skin. His eyes rove across your body when you finally reveal yourself to him, spreading your legs for him, letting your hands cup your breasts.

“You do this for everyone?” He asks quietly, settling himself between your open legs, his cock resting against your mound.

“Maybe,” You respond, “But you’re the only person I want to do this for.”

“Do they treat you well?” He murmurs, laying his body across your own, the weight on him on top of you making your cunt pulse.

“Some do, some don’t.” You shrug, cupping his face with your hands.

“Any of them make you come?”

You shake your head against the bed, “They come here for their own pleasure, sir.”

“My pleasure is your pleasure,” He whispers against your ear, “Tell me, has anyone ever kissed you here?”

One of his hands drags down your body, his hips lifted enough to let his hand cover your cunt.

“N-no,” You choke, the heat of his hand stifling against you, “They h-haven’t.”

“Would you let me?”

You nod, words failing you, as he lets his mouth drag down the naked skin of your body until his broad shoulders are settled between your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading you obscenely wide for himself.

His mouth is hot as it kisses the skin of your pussy, soft feather-light touches to every inch of skin. His thumbs pull your folds apart, baring every intimate inch of you to him, and then it’s all ecstasy as that wonderful mouth clasps around the bundle of nerves that you know so intimately of yourself, but others seem to forget.

It makes you buck your hips into his mouth, pressing further into the feeling of absolute bliss as the tip of his tongue flicks fast and then slow across it in undeterminable patterns. One of his hands splays across your stomach to keep you still, as he switches from the tip of his tongue to the flat. You can hear the slurping from between your legs, can feel your slick leaking from your cunt at his ministrations, the moans he lets out when his tongue dips lower to taste you - he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, a man committed to making you feel good before anything else.

There a knots twisting in your stomach, a fire that you know only from your own hand spreading across your lower body, you’re close, and you think he knows it too.

He brings his mouth back to your clit, lips enveloping it whole as he sucks it into his mouth, rolling his tongue across it as you feel two of his fingers slip inside your wet cunt, curling upwards almost immediately.

“Gods,” you breathe out, letting fingers tangle in his quickly drying hair, “I’m- oh fuck - so close.”

He continues just as he is as your body starts to convulse. Your eyes clamped shut, sweat pooling in crevices you didn’t know you had, until his tongue flicks just right and you’re snapping, coming undone. Body arched into his mouth as your cunt clamps tight around his fingers, as pleasure bursts across every inch of your skin. His tongue doesn’t let up until you whimper quietly that it’s too much, chest heaving and vision blurry.

His body clambers atop yours once more, hot skin against hot skin, his lips at your neck as he fumbles between your bodies, hand guiding his heavy, hard cock to nudge at your leaking centre.

“Tell me it’s okay,” he breathes against your skin, “Tell me I can have you like this.”

You moan, hips moving upwards into his own, heavy arms wrapping around his neck, “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you whine, feeling the tip of his cock right where you want it, “Please,” you beg, “Please, put me out of my misery.”

One of his hands grips your chin, turns your face to his. He’s so close, his eyes burning with lust you’ve never seen before, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Look at me,” he begs, shaking your head a little when you close your eyes at the feeling of him starting to push inside, “I want to see you when I do this.”

So you do, eyes open and boring into his own as he slips his cock into you. He’s big, bigger than you think you’ve had before, your mouth drops open as he slowly feeds every inch of himself into your cunt, stilling and sucking in his breath when he can go no further.

“I have dreamt of this,” he speaks softly as he drags himself out of you, “Wondered what you would feel like,” then he pushes back in, all at once this time, “It is nothing like I imagined.”

His face is buried in the crook of your neck now, his hips pulling back only to push back in again, tip of his cock brushing against that spot inside you that makes you keen, fingernails digging into his arms as you hold on.

“Is it better, General?” You ask in his ear, “Am I all your dreams come true?”

He answers with a hard thrust of his cock, causing a shrill shriek from your throat as the tip bruises at the very depths of you.

“It is everything I wanted and more, carrisima.”

He pushes himself back from you, cock still buried deep, and gathers your legs, hooking them over his arms before he presses forward again, bending your body in a way you know will make you ache tomorrow.

His hips pull back, before the slam back into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, as he sets a pace that you’re not even sure the God’s could keep up with. The room filled with nothing but the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, the wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in on every thrust, and the hot pants and moans from the two of you.

You let your arms reach around, palms against the toned muscles of his ass. You squeeze and dig fingernails into skin on each bruising thrust, head thrown back to let him press forward enough to suck at your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. No-one but him would get away with marking you.

“I’m close,” he manages to choke out, “Tell me I can fill you.”

You’ve waited too long to feel him like this to deny him. You would go to the healer in the morning for a cyreniac balm, but all you wanted right now was to feel him claim you, to make you his in every possible sense.

“Fill me, General,” you moan, “Let me feel you, please.”

It does take long, his hips faltering, stilling into your on one final thrust. He growls into the night air, his cock throbbing within you, the feeling of his seed painting your walls makes you hungry for more. He collapses on top of you, softening cock still deep inside you, as you wrap your arms around him, run comforting fingers through his hair as he recovers his breath.

Finally, he slips himself from your heat and rolls onto his back, dragging you with him to drape across his chest, one hand on your lower back, the other placed atop yours on his chest.

“I go back to war soon,” he speaks quietly, mouth pressed to your forehead, “I-“ he stutters for a moment, “I’m not sure I will make it back this time.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his jaw, “You are lucky, Sir,” you speak, “I think the Gods look upon you.”

“I feel a premonition,” he explains, “I couldn’t go back without knowing what it was to have you.”

You move the hand you have on his chest to entwine your fingers with his own, “You must come back, I cannot live without you now I know you like this.”

He smiles a little, shifts the two of you so you are both led on your sides looking at each other. His big palm traces down your side, resting at your hip.

“I will try, mea columba,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose, “But for now,” he rolls you gently to your back, fingers trailing back through your folds, slipping inside you, gathering his come and your slick on his fingers, dragging it up to circle your clit softly, “We must make the most of the time we have left together.”

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iamladyp · 3 months ago

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🫠🫠🫠🫠 help...

Power Play

Chapter 1 Breaking the Ice

Description: Behind her guarded exterior, a powerful woman finds herself falling for the one man she swore to resist. She's afraid of love, and he's determined to show her what she's been missing.

Pairing: Reader / Harry Castillo

Tags ⚠️: Adult Content, MDNI,enemies-to-lovers, power play, oral sex (m/f), PinV, deep penetration, grinding, rough sex, possessive sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, aftercare, teasing, praise, just lot of sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, fluff, angst, SMUT.

Word count: 4,2k

Note: Hey, you lovely weirdos 💜

Seriously, 300 followers? You guys are the best! Thanks for sticking around while I write about filthy smut and kinda romance. I'm trying my best.

So, this story? Yeah, it's gonna be a wild ride. Think: Bosses behaving badly. *Elevators being used for totally inappropriate activities. * A whole lot of 'I hate you... but also, please?' vibes. And enough smut to make devil blush.

Enjoy the chaos! And thanks again for being awesome!

Your friendly Jazzy smut writer. 😈💜🖤

Boardroom was filled with a tension thicker than the smoke from the dealers' cigars. It was a high-stakes meeting, a deal that could redefine the market, and they'd laid down the terms: your companies, yours and Castillo's, would collaborate, or neither of you would get the contract. A forced alliance, a bitter pill for both of you to swallow. From the moment he'd entered, Harry was a storm cloud, grumpy and tense, his gaze flicking to you with barely concealed irritation. You knew he resented you, your power, your position. Yet, beneath the surface of his animosity, you sensed a different kind of heat, a possessive hunger.

The meeting adjourned, the dealers filing out with satisfied smirks, leaving you alone in the opulent room. Harry remained, leaning against the mahogany table, his jaw tight. "This is... inconvenient," he ground out, his voice low and clipped. "But, I suppose we'll make it work." A flicker of something, a hint of dark amusement, crossed his eyes. "Though I admit, working with you... it has a certain appeal."

"Don't delude yourself, Castillo," you retorted, your voice sharp. "This is strictly business. And don't think for a second I don't know you're seething."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound and despite your attempts to remain unaffected. "Seething? Hardly," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you with a predatory gleam. "Intrigued, perhaps. And maybe a little... challenged."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Challenged? By me, Castillo?" you purred, knowing you were playing a dangerous game, but unable to resist the urge to tease him.

You knew his reputation. A playboy, a connoisseur of fleeting pleasures. He surrounded himself with beautiful women, showering them with gifts, but never offering his heart. He was a sugar daddy, a collector of trophies, and you were determined not to become one of them.

And yet, you couldn't deny the pull, the undeniable spark that ignited whenever we were in the same room. You, too, were a prisoner of your own making, a fortress of ice built around your heart. You were a workaholic, a woman who had sacrificed everything for success, afraid to let anyone get too close.

"Let's just say," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've always enjoyed a... complicated partnership. And you, my dear, are the epitome of complicated." He pushed himself off the table, taking a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Besides, who knows what we might discover when we're forced to work together? Maybe we'll find we have more... interesting ways to collaborate."

"Don't hold your breath, Castillo," you said, your voice laced with a cool disdain that belied the flutter in your stomach. "This partnership is temporary. And when it's over, we'll go back to being rivals. As it should be." You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

"Are you always this guarded?" he asked, his voice laced with something that sounded suspiciously like genuine curiosity, and a hint of something darker. "Or do you just reserve that for the men who... interest you?"

You paused, your back to him, the unspoken question hanging in the air. "It's just you, Castillo," you said, your voice flat. "It's always been just you." You left the room, leaving him standing there, his expression unreadable. But you knew, deep down, that you had just thrown down the gauntlet. And the game had begun..

You'd been working together for days, a forced partnership that was starting to feel less like a chore and more like... something else. You couldn't deny the pull you were beginning to feel towards him. He was undeniably professional, remarkably good at his job, and infuriatingly efficient. But God, he was so handsome. His large hands, those warm brown eyes, and that gorgeous, infuriating smile teased at something deep within you.

Some days, he was charming, almost disarmingly so. Other days, he was a storm cloud, rough and harsh, his words cutting like shards of ice. You'd clashed over strategy, argued over deadlines, and bickered over the smallest details.

* "That's not how we're doing it, Castillo," you'd stated firmly, pointing to the figures on the screen. "My way is more efficient."

* "Efficient?" he'd scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. "Your way is reckless. You're risking everything."

* "I'm risking success," you'd countered, meeting his gaze. "Something you seem afraid of."

* Or another time, "You're being unreasonable," he'd said, his voice tight. "This is a waste of time."

* "And you're being stubborn," you'd replied, your voice cool. "As usual. My analysis is correct, and you know it."

* He'd glared, "You think you're always right, don't you?"

* "Usually, yes." You answered.

And, inevitably, you'd been right. It always irritated him, the way you could outmaneuver him, the way your logic always prevailed. But you'd seen a flicker of something else in his eyes, a grudging respect, perhaps even a hint of... admiration? But you will find out soon.

The doors slid open, and you stepped into the elevator. The silence was thick, charged with the unspoken tension that always crackled between you two. Harry, ever the provocateur, broke it with a low chuckle. "So," he murmured, his eyes flickering over you, "this should be... interesting. Just the two of us."

"Don't get your hopes up, Castillo," you retorted, pressing the button for the ground floor. "I've endured worse."

"Oh, I'm sure you have," he said, his voice laced with a playful smirk. "But have you ever been trapped in a confined space with me?" He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, his posture radiating a casual confidence that infuriated you.

"I can't imagine it would be any different from being in a boardroom with you," you replied, your voice cool. "Suffocating."

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that echoed in the small space. "Touché," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But I think we both know there's a certain... electricity between us. A spark that can't be denied."

"Delusions of grandeur, Castillo," you said, your voice dismissive, though your heart pounded a little faster. "That's all it is."

"Is it?" he challenged, taking a step closer. "Or are you just afraid to admit what you feel?"

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I'm not afraid of anything, Castillo," you said, your voice steady. "Especially not you."

Just as the elevator doors were about to open onto the ground floor, the lights flickered, then died, plunging the small space into darkness. The elevator shuddered to a halt, the sudden silence punctuated by the faint hum of the emergency lights flickering on.

"Well, well," Harry murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like we're stuck."

A string of curses escaped your lips, the words echoing in the sudden darkness. Harry, however, seemed unfazed, a slow, infuriatingly smug smile spreading across his face. "Having a bad day, darling?" he purred, his voice laced with amusement.

You ignored him, pulling out your phone, the faint glow of the screen illuminating your frustrated expression. You were going to be late. Very late. You'd been looking forward to this date, a rare moment of respite from the relentless demands of your career. Now, thanks to a malfunctioning elevator and your infuriating rival, it was ruined.

"Damn it," you muttered, tapping furiously at the screen, trying to get a signal. "I'm going to be late."

"Late for what?" Harry asked, his voice laced with a curious edge. "A meeting? A... rendezvous?"

"That's none of your business, Castillo," you snapped, shoving your phone back into your purse.

"Oh, come now," he teased, taking a step closer. "Don't be shy. Tell me, who's the lucky man?"

"It's a date," you said, your voice tight. "And it's none of your concern."

"A date?" he repeated, his smile widening. "With who? Some poor, unsuspecting soul you're planning to intimidate with your business acumen?"

"He's a perfectly nice man," you retorted, your voice laced with a hint of defensiveness. "And he's nothing like you."

"Oh, I'm sure he's very nice," Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Probably a bit... dull. Unlike me."

"He's not dull," you said, your voice rising. "He's... normal."

"Normal?" Harry scoffed. "How utterly boring. You deserve someone who challenges you, someone who can keep up with your sharp mind. Someone... like me."

He leaned closer, his hand reaching out to rest against the cool, mirrored wall right next to your head, effectively trapping you. The faint emergency lights cast his features in sharp relief, highlighting the predatory gleam in his eyes. "So," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "a date. Pity. You're missing out on a much more interesting evening."

You couldn't help but smile, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Interesting? With you, Castillo? I doubt it."

"Oh, I think I could surprise you," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I have a few... hidden talents."

"I don't think you could handle a woman like me, Castillo," you countered, your voice laced with a playful challenge. "I'm a lot to handle."

He moved even closer, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Darling," he whispered, his voice a low growl, "I specialize in handling women who think they're too much. Especially when they're begging me to ruin them."

"You laughed, a low, breathy sound that vibrated against his lips. "Ruin me?" you teased, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Is that the best you've got, Castillo?"

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. He nipped at your lower lip, a playful bite "Oh, I have much more," he murmured against your mouth, his voice a low growl. "But I like to start slow. Build the anticipation."

His hands moved over your body, tracing the curves beneath your expensive clothes, lingering on the sensitive skin of your neck and the swell of your breasts. You arched against him, your own hands exploring the taut muscles of his back, the hard line of his jaw.

"Anticipation?" you whispered, your voice husky. "Or are you just afraid to admit you don't know what to do with me?"

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through your body. "Afraid? Darling, I'm going to show you exactly what I can do." He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire, and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers lingering on the exposed skin beneath. "We're trapped, you know," he murmured, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "No one to interrupt us. No rules."

"Rules are meant to be broken," you retorted, your own fingers working on the buttons of his shirt. "Especially when they're boring."

He groaned as you freed his chest from the confines of his shirt, his skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. "You're playing a dangerous game," he whispered, his eyes fixed on yours.

"I like dangerous games," you replied, your voice a low purr. "Especially when I win."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "We'll see who wins this one," he murmured, his voice a promise and a threat. "We'll see." His hand slid down to the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up, revealing the lace of your stockings. "And I always play to win."

His hand slid down to the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up, revealing the lace of your stockings. "And I always play to win. I always take what I want."

You laughed, a low, breathy sound that vibrated against his lips. "Try me, Castillo," you breathed, your eyes locking with his. "I dare you."

You reached for his belt buckle, your fingers working quickly, your eyes fixed on his. "Let's see just how much of a 'challenge' you can handle," you murmured, unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling down the zipper of his pants. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, already glistening with pre-cum. "God, you're huge," you breathed, your voice laced with a mixture of awe and lust. "Just how I like it. Ready to fuck me, Mr Castillo?"

He groaned, his eyes darkening with desire. "You have no idea," he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

He pushed you against the mirrored wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. With a swift, brutal motion, he ripped your panties, the thin fabric tearing. He grabbed you by the waist, his hands strong and possessive, and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his hips. With a hard, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. "Fuck," he growled, his voice thick with lust, "you're so wet, so hot. Just how I imagined."

You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his back, as he began to move, his thrusts deep and relentless. He kissed you roughly, his tongue plunging into your mouth, "You're mine now," he growled against your lips. "And I'm going to fuck you until you can't even remember your own name."

He started to fuck you harder and faster, his hands gripping your hips, guiding the relentless rhythm. His cock slammed against your sensitive spot, each thrust sending waves of pure, raw pleasure through your body. You felt so full, so stretched, so utterly consumed by the sensation.

"Goddamn, you feel so good," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So tight, so wet for me. I'm going to win you, darling," he hissed, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "I will own you."

"Own me?" you teased, your voice breathy. "Honey, I own myself."

"Not for long," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Not when I'm done with you." His thrusts grew deeper, harder, his cock pounding against your core, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "You will be mine, understand? Mine to fuck, mine to break, mine to claim."

He leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, then lower, to the swell of your breasts. He suckled on your nipple, his teeth nipping and tugging, leaving a dark, throbbing mark. "Fuck," you gasped, your voice laced with a mixture of pain and pleasure. "That's it. Rough. I like it rough. I like it when you're in control."

"I know," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. "I knew the moment I saw you. You crave this. You crave me. You crave being taken."

He started to move faster, his every thrust pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "You're going to come for me, baby," he rasped, his voice raw with desire. "You're going to scream my name when you do. You're going to come so hard for me."

Your pussy clenched around his cock, squeezing him tight, milking him with your juices. He groaned, his pleasure evident in every thrust, every ragged breath. His cock was slick with your wetness, and he was burying himself inside you with every hard thrust.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his curly hair, pulling him closer. You kissed him roughly, biting his lip, drawing a thin line of blood. The metallic taste mingled with the heat of your passion, sending a jolt of adrenaline through you. He smiled, a dark, predatory grin, as he tasted the blood, his eyes burning with desire. "That's it," he whispered, "fight me. I like it when you fight."

You came undone, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over you. Moans ripped from your throat, gasps for air mingling with the rhythmic thud of his hips against yours. Your body clenched around his cock, milking him dry, your juices slicking his shaft. You squirted, a hot, pulsing stream that coated his length, dripping down his balls, staining his expensive trousers.

The force of your orgasm left you breathless, your legs trembling, your body a raw, aching pleasure. "Harry!" you screamed, his name a raw, desperate plea, your moans echoing in the confined space. "Oh god, Harry, it's so good... so fucking good," you gasped, the pleasure unlike anything you'd ever experienced. "Fuck me, Harry! I want you deeper! I want you to fill me! Make me scream!"

He smiled, a dark, possessive grin, his eyes raking over your flushed, sated face. "That's it, darling," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Squeeze me tight. Soak me with your filth. You feel so good wrapped around me."

The sight of you, a beautiful, trembling mess, made him happy, filled him with a primal satisfaction. He wanted more. He always wanted more. He wanted to brand you as his, to own you body and soul. "You're mine, and I'll make sure you never forget it." He paused, his gaze softening slightly, a flicker of something almost tender in his eyes. "And, darling, you're so beautiful when you come for me."

He thrust deeper, harder, his cock burying itself to the hilt, each stroke a desperate, primal claim. He was a man possessed, driven by a need to brand you as his, to fill you until you overflowed. His thrusts became frantic, desperate, a whirlwind of raw, untamed desire.

Then, he came, a guttural growl erupting from his throat, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. His cum spilled into you, a hot, thick tide that filled you completely, stretching you, branding you from the inside out.

He placed his right hand on your jaw, his fingers almost cupping your entire face, and kissed you hard, his tongue plunging into your mouth, claiming you as his. "You're mine now," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with possessive triumph. "Mine to use, mine to keep. I knew I'd have you screaming my name eventually. You're a dirty, delicious thing, and I'm going to make you beg for my cock."

"Oh, am I?" you purred, your voice laced with a playful smirk, even as your body throbbed with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Because I seem to remember you begging just a few moments ago, Castillo."

He remained inside you, his cock still throbbing, his movements slow and deliberate, a final, lingering caress. You could feel the slick heat of his cum mixing with your own juices, the sensation both intimate and possessive. As he slowly withdrew, a thick trail of his semen dripped down your inner thigh, a visible testament to his claim. "Look at you," he murmured, his eyes raking over your flushed, sated face, a predatory gleam in their depths. "A fucking mess, all mine. I like the way you look when you're used. When you're ruined for anyone else."

"Used?" you scoffed, your voice laced with a dark amusement. "Honey, I used you. And I'll use you again. Whenever I want." You reached down, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, then lower, to the damp stain on his trousers. "You're wearing my mark now, Castillo. Just like I'm wearing yours."

He leaned down and kissed you, a quick, hard press of his lips against yours, a silent 'see you later.' Just as he pulled away, the clanking metal and muffled voices told you the elevator was being fixed.

"Our little break's over," you said, smoothing your skirt, the lingering scent of sex and his cologne still hanging in the air.

He nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Back to business, then. Though, I gotta admit, this was a much better kind of business. I liked the way you screamed my name, by the way. Very...enthusiastic."

You both quickly straightened your clothes, the lingering scent of sex and sweat a dead giveaway. You fixed your jacket, he straightened his tie, and you tried to look like you hadn't just used the elevator for...other purposes.

The doors slid open, revealing two maintenance guys, their faces a little red. They glanced at you, then away, way too quickly.

"Everything good?" one asked, his voice a bit tight.

"Yeah, all good," you said, trying to sound normal. "Just a little hiccup."

Harry gave them a nod. "Thanks for getting us out," he said, sounding perfectly smooth. "You saved us from a very... boring ride."

They nodded, clearly wanting to leave, and disappeared. The doors closed, and you were alone again.

"Well," Harry said, shrugging, "that was... something." He looked at you, a gleam in his eyes. "We'll be doing that again. And I'll be doing it better."

"I'm sure we will," you said, smirking. "You seem addicted."

He grinned. "Addicted? You were the one begging for my cock, darling. But yeah," he admitted, his voice dropping, "I'm down for a repeat performance. Or several. I want to hear you scream my name again. I want to feel you wrapped around me like that again. I want more."

He took your hand, pulling you closer. "Come to my place tonight," he murmured. "Skip your date. We'll pick up where we left off. I'll show you just how much I enjoyed fucking you against that wall."

"I need to go. I'm late," you said, pulling your hand away. "See you at the meeting."

His face tightened. He wanted more. He'd get more. The look in his eyes said he wasn't letting this go. "Just a moment of weakness, Castillo," you said, your voice cool, though a tremor ran through you. "A moment of passion. Nothing more. Don't read too much into it."

Even as you said the words, you knew they were a lie. It was more. It was always going to be more. And he knew it too. He knew he'd found a weakness, and he'd exploit it. "A moment of weakness?" he echoed, his voice laced with amusement. "Darling, I'm going to make you weak every time I see you."

He was standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"I told you you'd be begging for me," you said, a triumphant smile playing on your lips. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the elevator, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Before you go," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence of the hallway, "just remember... I always get what I want. And what I want, is you. Tonight, tomorrow, and every night after. You'll be thinking about this, darling. Every time you close your eyes, you'll see me inside you. And you'll crave it. I'll make sure of it."

"Oh, I'm sure I won't forget," you purred, turning back to face him, a wicked glint in your eyes. "Especially the way you looked when I had you inside me, your expensive suit crumpled, your tie undone, your face flushed with pleasure, begging me to come harder. You looked positively… wrecked. And I liked it. I liked it a lot." He laughed, a low, husky sound tll, you turned and walked away.

The date was...meh, really boring.

Nice guy, sure. Younger, like, your age. But you kept thinking about Harry. Like, really thinking about Harry. Not the boardroom Harry, the elevator Harry. Big difference.

This guy was talking about his gap year in Thailand, or whatever, and you were just...not there. Your brain was stuck on Harry's hands, the way he'd shoved you against the wall, the sound he made when he came inside you. It was like a movie playing on repeat. A dirty movie.

He was all polite and charming, and you were just wondering if Harry's tie was still stained. It probably was. This guy was talking wine, and you were remembering Harry's teeth on your neck.

You wanted to be home. Alone. Thinking about Harry. Maybe touching yourself. Definitely thinking about Harry.

"Two days. Two long days. And then, there he was, across the boardroom table, his eyes locked on yours. Not the professional gaze, not the rival's stare. This was something else entirely. This was the look of a man who knew exactly what you'd felt in that elevator, a look that promised a repeat performance. You knew what he was thinking: I want you again.

When the meeting finally concluded, and the last of the attendees filed out, he lingered. He locked the door, the click echoing in the suddenly silent room, and then he moved towards you, a slow, deliberate stride that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Missed me?" he purred, his voice low and husky, the question laced with a confident smirk. He didn't wait for an answer. "Because I've been thinking about you. Non-stop. Especially about the way you sounded when I filled you in that elevator."

"Thinking about me?" you echoed, your voice laced with a playful bite. "Or thinking about how you practically begged me to come harder?" You stepped closer, your eyes locking with his. "You looked so desperate, Castillo. It was almost...pathetic." You reached out, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, your touch light but firm. "Or perhaps you're just addicted to the way I make you feel? The way I make you lose control?"

He sank into the chair opposite yours, his gaze never leaving your face. "Addicted?" he murmured, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips. "Perhaps. But I prefer to think of it as a mutual craving. A craving for the way your pussy clenches around me, the way you scream my name when I fuck you senseless. A craving for the way your juices taste on my lips."

You moved closer, your legs and the sharp heels of your shoes parting his. You leaned in, placing your hands on his shoulders, your breath ghosting over his ear. With your left hand, you traced the prominent bulge in his pants, feeling the heat radiating from him. "Begging?" you whispered, your fingers toying with his tie. "Is that what you're doing, Castillo? Because it sounds suspiciously like begging."

"Goddamn it," he cursed, his voice thick with lust, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. "Take me. Now. Please. I need you."

You told him, your voice a low purr, "I do like the way you beg, Castillo. It's quite...becoming." You paused, your eyes locking with his. "Tell me, what exactly were you thinking when you were giving me that look during the meeting?"

"I was thinking about fucking you on this table, darling," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Right here, right now. I was imagining your legs spread wide, your wet cunt glistening under the boardroom lights, your screams echoing through this empty room. I was thinking about how much I wanted to hear you beg for my cock."

You smiled, a slow, predatory grin, and knelt before him, your fingers working quickly to unbuckle his belt. You pulled his cock free, the thick, throbbing length already glistening with pre-cum. "So eager," you murmured, your eyes fixed on his. "Just how I like it. Ready for me to swallow you whole?"

You leaned down and kissed the tip, your tongue tracing the sensitive ridge, then slowly began to suck, teasing him with the tip of your tongue and swirling around the head. He groaned, his hands gently cradling your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, pulling you closer. "God, yes," he moaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Just like that. You feel so good. Swallow me, baby. Take it all."

You continued to suck him, your lips working magic, your tongue swirling and teasing, drawing out every moan, every shudder of pleasure from him. God, he was enjoying this. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his breathing heavy, his curls falling across his forehead. He was a picture of pure, unadulterated lust.

You pulled away, leaving him gasping, his eyes snapping open, locking with yours. You lifted your black dress, sliding your panties down your legs, and tossed them at his face. "I'm gonna keep these," he growled, a predatory grin spreading across his lips, the silk fabric clinging to his cheek.

You straddled him on the chair, your wet heat hovering just above his throbbing cock. "Ready for the main event, Castillo?" you purred, your voice laced with a wicked amusement.

"Ready?" he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "Darling, I've been ready since the moment I saw you walk into this room. Now, get on my cock."

He grabbed your waist, his hands strong and possessive, lifting your dress higher, revealing the slick, glistening entrance to your core. He watched, his eyes dark with desire, as you guided his cock to your dripping pussy. He was so impatient, so desperate for you, his eagerness a palpable thing.

As you slowly lowered yourself onto him, his cock sliding deep inside you, he let out a loud, guttural moan, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

You teased him, moving slowly, swirling your hips, savoring the way he writhed beneath you. Then, you began to ride him harder, faster, grinding your wet heat against his length. "God, you feel so good," you groaned, your voice thick with lust. "So fucking good. I want to feel you come inside me again and again."

He buried his head in your chest, his teeth nipping at your skin, his hands tearing at the top of your dress, exposing your breasts. He sucked on your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peaks, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. "You're mine," he growled against your skin, his voice rough and possessive. "All mine. Baby, you like this cock, don't you? You need me."

"Yes, Harry," you whispered back, your voice thick with lust, your body arching against his. "I need you. I need your cock. Fuck!"

He gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly, and placed you on the polished surface of the boardroom table. His cock slipped out, the wet sound echoing in the room, and you gasped, a mixture of surprise and anticipation. God, he was strong, and you loved the raw power in his touch. The way he moved, so rough, so passionate, it ignited a fire within you.

He thrust back inside you, burying himself deep, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He leaned down and kissed you, hard and possessive, his lips bruising yours, the force of the kiss almost painful, but in a good way. He took your hands, pinning them above your head, and fucked you like a wild animal, his thrusts deep and relentless.

The table screeched with each thrust, the sound a counterpoint to your moans. Damn, I hope we don't break this thing, you thought, but the thought was fleeting, quickly replaced by the raw, animalistic pleasure of his cock inside you. This man was giving you the best fuck of your life.

He gripped your hands tighter, his knuckles white, and whispered in your ear, his voice a low growl, "Did your date fuck you like this?"

"No," you gasped, your voice thick with lust. "He didn't have a chance."

"I knew it, darling," he growled, his voice possessive. "You're mine, even if you don't want to admit it. The moment my cock slipped inside you, you became mine. And nobody else's."

He pulled back slightly, his right hand sliding down to your clit, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive nub. "Come for me," he hissed, his eyes dark with desire. "Scream my name. Just for me." His thrusts grew harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tightened, your muscles clenching, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo.

Then, it happened. You came apart, a wave of pure, raw pleasure washing over you, your juices squirting, milking his cock. He watched, his eyes burning with lust, as you came undone, his own release building within him. He thrust deep one last time, his cum spilling inside you, a hot, thick tide that filled you completely. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice rough, but with a surprising tenderness. "And I... I like this. I like us." He paused, his thumb still circling your clit, his eyes searching yours. "And you, darling, you're so beautiful when you come for me. So incredibly beautiful." He watched the mix of his cum and your fluids spill from you, and smiled gently.

"And you," you whispered back, your voice still thick with the aftershocks of your orgasm, "you're a complete and utter mess. But... I wouldn't have it any other way."

He untied his tie, the silk fabric a stark contrast to the raw passion that had just consumed you both, and gently cleaned you, wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure. "You've ruined another tie, darling," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You smiled, a slow, teasing grin spreading across your lips. "You got the money, you can gwt new one.," you purred, your voice thick with the afterglow of your orgasm.

After you both dressed, he moved closer, his touch gentle, and kissed you softly, a tender contrast to the earlier ferocity. "You're going to dinner with me tonight," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Be ready at 7 pm."

"Dinner?" you asked, a mixture of surprise and nervous excitement bubbling within you. "Tonight?"

"I need to take care of my lady," he insisted, his voice laced with a surprising tenderness, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

"Your lady?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, surprised by the possessive term, yet a warmth spread through you.

He leaned closer, cupping your face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "Yes, beautiful," he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "You are my lady, from now on." He took your hand, and together, you left the building, the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air. You parted ways, a nervous anticipation building within you. My lady? you thought, a small, delighted smile tugging at your lips.

The afternoon was a blur of nervous energy. You spent hours getting ready, wanting to look your best, the fear of vulnerability battling with the undeniable pull of desire. You knew you wanted him, craved him, needed him.

And then, he arrived. A bouquet of vibrant red roses filled the hallway, and there he stood, his eyes warm, his smile genuine. You kissed him on the cheek, a gesture of affection that felt both natural and exhilarating. "You look beautiful," you whispered, a nervous flutter in your stomach. "And...and these roses are lovely." He was sweet, caring, a stark contrast to the dominant, possessive man he was in the boardroom. And you realized, with a jolt of certainty, that you loved both sides of him.

You entered the restaurant together, and he was so incredibly kind. You realized you had so much in common, your conversations flowing effortlessly. He made you laugh, a genuine, heartfelt laugh that you hadn't experienced in far too long. No man had ever treated you like this, with such gentle adoration, like a queen. "I... I've never been treated like this," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

He took your hand, his eyes locking with yours, and kissed your knuckles, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Darling," he murmured, his voice laced with warmth, "you deserve to be treated like royalty. You deserve the world."

You were surprised, a flutter of happiness blooming in your chest.

Later, you arrived at his penthouse. It was huge, a testament to his wealth, a breathtaking panorama of the city lights sprawling before you. "Wow," you breathed, taking in the sheer scale of the place.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Impressed?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know," you said, turning to face him, "I've never met a man like you. You're like...a fantasy. A rare being. A unicorn."

He laughed, a genuine, delighted sound, and pulled you closer, his body warm against yours. "No, you are," he murmured, his voice husky. "Strong, unique, and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And tonight, you're all mine."

He began to slowly undress you, his fingers teasing the buttons of your dress, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Let me see you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Every inch of you." He slid the dress off your shoulders, revealing the delicate lace of your lingerie. His eyes darkened as he took in your form. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed, his voice laced with awe.

He traced the curve of your hip, his touch lingering on the sensitive skin beneath the lace. "I want to worship you," he murmured, his voice a low growl. He gently pushed you against the wall, his hands tracing the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you, his touch reverent. He leaned in and kissed you, a soft, tender kiss that spoke of affection and desire, a stark contrast to the passionate ferocity you'd shared earlier. "Tonight," he whispered against your lips, "I just want to hold you. To cherish you."

You kissed him harder, your lips meeting his with a newfound urgency, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings blossoming between you.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the plush expanse of his bed. There, his touch was gentle, reverent, a stark contrast to the raw passion you'd shared before. You quickly shed your remaining clothes, the anticipation building with each discarded garment.

And then, you saw him, fully naked, his body a masterpiece of strength and beauty. He was so handsome, his muscles defined, his arms powerful, his broad shoulders casting a comforting shadow over you. He was huge, a magnificent presence beside your own.

He took his time, savoring every inch of you, his lips tracing a path of fire across your skin, his kisses lingering, worshipful. He kissed your neck, your shoulders, your stomach, each touch a silent declaration of his desire. He moved lower, his lips parting your thighs, his tongue swirling and teasing, licking and sucking your clit with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

He didn't stop, didn't relent, until you came undone, your body convulsing around his tongue, your moans echoing in the quiet room. He caught your juices with his tongue, and swallowed them, his eyes locking with yours, a silent promise in their depths. "You taste like heaven, darling," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Like pure, sweet heaven."

"You're...you're so good at this," you whispered, your voice still shaky from your orgasm, a blush creeping up your neck.

He smiled, a gentle, loving smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Only for you, my love," he whispered, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Only for you."

"You're making me blush," you giggled, covering your face with your hands, a wave of shy affection washing over you.

He chuckled, a low, warm sound. "And you look absolutely adorable when you do," he said, gently pulling your hands away from your face and kissing your forehead. "Absolutely adorable."

He entered you again, this time with a slow, deliberate tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. His movements were gentle, reverent, each thrust a silent declaration of his affection. It felt as though your bodies were made for each other, the way his full weight settled upon you, the warmth of his touch, the soft murmur of his words. You wished you could freeze this moment, stay like this forever. He was a master of contrasts, capable of both gentle adoration and raw, passionate intensity. "You feel so good," he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his hands tracing the curves of your body. "So perfectly mine. I love the way you fit against me, the way you wrap your legs around me. You're driving me wild."

As he moved faster, his thrusts deepening, his hand gently rubbing your clit, you came undone, a wave of pleasure washing over you. He followed soon after, his body shuddering with his own release. "God, you're incredible," he groaned, his voice raw with pleasure. "I love the way you come for me."

You lay tangled in the silken sheets, his arm wrapped around your small frame, his lips brushing against your cheek.

"I'm afraid," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Afraid of love. Afraid of losing this."

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, his voice warm and reassuring, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your hip. "I love you. I love the way you feel in my arms, you make me feel like I’m finally home. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm not letting you go."

The words echoed in your ears, shocking you with their sincerity. Is it possible? you wondered, your eyes searching his. This gorgeous man loves me? Wants only me? "You love me?" you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

He responded with a flurry of sweet, tender words, his voice laced with affection. "More than anything, darling," he murmured, his eyes filled with unwavering devotion. "More than I ever thought possible. Now sleep," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "You need to rest. Tomorrow, Saturday night, you're going with me to a wedding party."

"Isn't this all a bit fast?" you asked, surprised by his eagerness to show you off. "You want to be seen with me, together?"

"Yes," he said, his voice firm, his eyes filled with unwavering certainty. "I want you now and forever, darling. I want the world to know you're mine. I want to build a life with you. I love the way you feel with me, and I want to feel you with me forever." He hugged you closer, his warm body a comforting presence against yours.

You teased him with a soft kiss, murmuring, "Maybe...maybe I love you too, my rival, my sir." He smiled, his lips brushing against yours, his teeth gently nipping your lower lip. "Maybe?" he questioned playfully. "I know you do. And I know you're mine. And I'm yours."

You drifted off to sleep, the warmth of his body and the sincerity of his words wrapping you in a sense of peace you hadn't known you were missing. It felt like heaven.

Thanks for the reading 💜

Tags: @joelmillerisapunk @probablyreadinsmut @toomanystoriessolittletime @iheartoldermem @jolapeno @iamladyp @itwasntimethatdidit40

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